Sorry, busy week... Zimm took a knee at the side of the fallen Acolyte, muttering a prayer and touching one of the aquilae embossed into her body glove. Then she unceremoniously relived the corpse of its stimm,photo visor
Then, with blade still ready, she waited for the tech-priest to commune with the spirits in the door mechanism...
Zimm rolls to the side to avoid the enforcer's volley, then is on her feet in an instant, charging forward, her mono-bastard sword in hand...
Damage, Tearing: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (6, 10) + 1 = 17 Take highest...Righteous Fury Invoked !
So....11 damage
Zimm runs up to the others, and looks at the burning building for a moment, then back to Havelock and the others, "Subtle...." is all she says. If she sees a target of opportunity ( such as fleeing enforcer ) she will aim and loose and arrow before retreating with the others... Half action: Aim, Half-Action:Shoot
Sorry , got slammed... Zimm holds one of the smaller jumpsuits in front of her and sees that it will be a bit big, but doable. Taking off her combat harness, she puts the miner's coverall on then slides the harness back on, adjusting it to hold the coverall in place so it wouldn't hamper her movement. She tosses the other smaller coveralls to Yeli then gathers up the others, "Now at least some of us will be less conspicuous...Hopefully those boys are behaving..."
Zimm had sat on the truck as it ascended in the lift, her nerves all a jangle, expecting a fusillade of cultist armaments as they crested the lip of the chasm. When nothing happened, she sat puzzled, as the others debated the next move. Her head bouncing loosely as the truck rumbled and bumps along, she raises her head and offers her own opinion, "Yeh, these cultists could have eliminated us easily as we came up that lift...ambush or sabotage of the lift. Why didn't they, yeh? I think it's because they don't care about us...they've either left or their doing something they consider more important...something dangerous, yeh? "
Apologies....having issues with some of my campaign notifications... Zimm watches the interrogation with interest,until it's obvious the man has nothing interesting to divulge. She doesn't bother to watch his execution, instead going an seeing if she can recover either of the two arrows she shot at the miners. Not terribly interested in what the tech priest was upto, she leans against the tunnel wall a bit away from the truck, watching back the way they had come... Perception:41: 1d100 ⇒ 84
With the cultist threat eliminated and the foreman under interrogation, Zimm examines her blade, the miner's blood speckled there. Taking out a odd square of white material, she blots out a few drops of blood from her blade, the crimson liquid drying immediately. Then as she cleans the rest of the blood from the blade, she trots down the tunnel to retrieve her arrow from the miner she killed. She picks up the arrow and gently presses the arrow head against the same white cloth, where the blood immediately dries. She then wipes the remaining blood from the arrow, returning it to her quiver. She casually walks back to where the interrogation was taking place, keeping an eye out for more miners... Perception:41 (+10 for sight/hearing): 1d100 ⇒ 33
Oblivion's Scion wrote: [b]Reloading your bow is a half action, so you would not be able to reload, take an aim action, and fire all in one round. How would you like to adjust your action? Durn it! Forgot about that. Ok, can she reload, then aim and shoot in the next round using that roll? If not, she'll just re-load and shoot...
Zimm smiles as her blessings have the desired effect, the arrow strikes true! She ignores the sizzle and clatter of her companion's less blessed weapons, pulling another arrow. Calmly, she places it upon the bowstring, draws, holds her breath and once again releases it in a near silent prayer, "Interficiam propter verum imperatorem" Half action: Aim, Half-Action:Shoot
So 12 Wounds, 3 penetration....if it hit
Zimm moves slightly for a better angle, then draws an arrow back to her ear , compensating for the movement of the ore cart, aiming at whichever 'miner' is most exposed. As she gently releases the taut bowstring, she whispers , "Interficiam propter verum imperatorem" Moritat Cant:
"Cut True for the Emperor" Half action: Aim, Half-Action:Shoot
So that's 14 Wounds damage, Penetration is 3
Zimm smiles as the expected ambush is sprung, jumping out of the truck and moving to its front to keep it between her and the advancing ore cart full of miners/cultists. As she does so, she pulls her bow from her harness and snaps it open, also pulling an arrow from the nearby quiver and efficiently knocks it on the bow's string. Seeing that the mutant has the foreman in hand, she focuses her attention on the oncoming ore cart... Half action to ready the bow, half to move...
Zimm bends way down to attend to a wayward buckle on her boot. While her head is out of the sight of the foreman, she whispers into her comm, "Yeh, we've got combat knives on some miners and the lift-man has a stubbie...they are not what they seem... she warns on the shared frequency. She then straightens, her attention sharp, watching for the inevitable ambush.. Perception:41, 51 if sight or hearing: 1d100 ⇒ 17
Sorry, got a bit busy there... When Zimm notices that the the destroyed bridge led to new diggings, her curiosity is piqued. She sub-vocalizes on the chosen frequency, "Yeh, noticed a bridge to new diggings was destroyed out by the landing pad..." Later, she hops up on the transport ,keeping alert... Scrutiny:20: 1d100 ⇒ 56
If either of these require Hearing or Sight, her heightented senses add 10
Zimm's eyes narrow as she notices the broken bridge. Still crouched she pulls out her dataslate and compares that bridge with the maps supplied, seeing if they indicated where that bridge previous gave access. Then, seeing the others enter the facility,snaps her bow closed, slaps it back onto her harness and makes her way inside as well.
Zimm is quiet as the lander approaches the planetoid. She's discarded the Hiver clothes, and stands in her body glove, the hard lines of her body revealed...embraced. Liturgies praising the emperor emboss the close fitting armor at all angles. A combat harness across her torso carries two swords, a collapsed bow and a quiver of arrows. No guns can be seen on her person. She grabs a re-breather and straps it to her face, then slides a micro-bead into one of her ears, "I suggest frequency 1.3.33..." she says over the noise of the lander. Those with any ecclesiastical background recognize the numbers as the index number of a hymn titled His Chosen Shall Triumph Always Then, she pulls the bow from her harness, and with a small motion causes it to expand to its full size. Fitting a arrow to its string, she crouches, ready to disembark...
Zimm had been characteristically quiet during the journey, either training hard, or praying on her bunk, or cleaning her blades. When Balthazar calls for prayer, she drops to her knees, her face upturned in zealous worship. When he finishes, she whispers, et in sanguine tuo ex hostibus redempti sumus
Zimm takes a top bunk on the transport, still dressed in Hiver fashion, a worn pack in her hand. For the duration of the voyage to the rendevous with the Rex Orpheus, she pulls out an assortment of blades and begins to clean and inspect them, muttering the whole time "Moritatus effunditur sanguis pro Caesar....Imperatoris gloriam uita et sanguine hostibus suis" She occasionally emerges to grab something to eat in the kitchen, and Naltos notices her watching him train, before she walks away. ---- Acting the bodyguard, after listening to the Visan's spiel, she leans into address Yelisaveta , "Yeh, can't guarantee safety in ship we don't control..."
Zimm had continued to listen to the blather and planning, until finally it seemed that a consensus had been reached...mostly. When the Commissar left, she picked up a dataslate and slaved it to her own, copying the data. Then standing next to Yelisaveta, she shrugged, "None of that is what I do..." she says simply, looking aside to the Noble, "Yeh, so I'm to be yer bodyguard or somesuch? That's fine, I'm really here for when it goes bloody...." Her voice reveals how much she anticipates such an eventuality.
As the discussion turns to matters of ore and factories and nobles and installation importance, Zimm does her best to keep at least a modicum of interest present on her face. Some of her Sisters delve deep into politics and economics and such would be quite interested in all of the details being discussed. But Zimm was not one of those. Operational information was well and good, but all of this extraneous details bored her. Bored her yes, but still she listened...as the others talked and talked and talked...
Zimm feels eyes on her, and turns to meet the gaze of the quiet man in back. Her eyes narrow a bit as she evaluates what she sees...more to him than meets the eye, she thinks, then turns back to the Commissar, glancing sideways at the mechos, Yeh, what's in store for us lot?" she asks, her accent horrible, her Gothic barely passable, identifying her heritage as lower even that that of a Hiver, despite her fashion choices.
Zimm stared at the former Commissar , indulging in a brief fantasy of seeing her punch dagger lodged firmly into his forehead, but discarded it with irritation...despite his bluster, he was an Agent of the Inquisitor. She'd kill him if the Emperor demanded, not on a whim. Another tendril of iho smoke reached her nose, and it was then that Zimm realised why it appealed to her so...it reminded her of the marsh mist back on Dusk, near her home. A small pang of homesickness welled up in her chest, but she brutally pushed it down...that life was gone,now there was only the Emperor's Will.
Zimm inhales the smoke blow at her by the impertinent noble, savoring the acrid burn, returning the woman's half-smile, before turning her attention back to the table. She ignores the Priest's rhetoric, knowing her own service to the Emperor is unsullied, her focus on the Inquisitor's men and their response to the Priest's inquiry.
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