"And it would have been quicker had we not bump into those Ashleen jerks." Justine said. "They called us 'outsiders', doesn't seem they like the imperial presence very much."
"Don't let today's events fool you, my dear. Usually it is relatively peaceful here in Port Suffering. Oh, yes there are warlords, but they would never attack here."
"Warlords, you say. Then I gather that there is no central power controlling the planet."
"That may prove a hazard to any mission we shall undertake."
There is a knock at the door to the study. "Excuse me sir, but it seems that one of the group managed to become separated in the crowd and has only now arrived. Should I let him in?" "Of course, Zanthus. We don't want anyone to be left out. Bring him in." "Yes, sir." Soon, the servant returns with Deckard, who you lost sight of shortly after you left the shuttle.
Walking slowly into the room Deckard scans those assembled. At first he seems not to recognize anyone, then after looking each in the eye, he nods slowly and seems to come back to himself. "I apologize for my disappearance. I was distracted by a brief vision of the Golden Throne and lost track of the rest of you." Briefly waiting for any recriminations, he continues, "It shall not happen again. Where do we stand in our mission?"
Ivaanov looked around the room with interest, noting teh architecture and techware the man had aquired. Idly, his hands turned and cleaned the weapon he scrounged from the dead thugs in the alleyway. His mind natrally conducted a survey of teh wepon, couting ammunition, noting teh manufacturers stamp and seeing where he could make modifications to enhance the thing.
When Deckard arrived, the tech looked up and nodded at his explanation. It was only natural to be distracted by such things. He himself had once lost an hour looking over the scrimshaw writings on a head techpriests artificer tools. Such things were not to be taken lighlty, and brought one more in line with the Machine Gods teachings.
He also nodded at Burgos' words. "Perhaps we need to tread lightly on this mission."
"What exactly IS the mission?" Asked Justine.
"Well, let's begin. While I'm certain that the mission briefing you received from our honored master describes in some detail our purpose here, I have had the benifit of of spending a few weeks in this... unfortunate... outpost, and I have not been idle.You see, Iocanthos, for all of its squalor, is near to my heart, The venerable Saint Drusus himself, to whom I have the very great honor of being distant kin, claimed this world for the Imperium, sweeping over the savage peoples and bringing them to the light and glory of the God-Emperor. As you know, the cathedral of Stern Hope is due to be consecrated to this great hero, and I would not see the memory of this Saint diminished by heresy and such a holy purpose subverted by a backwoods witch or some such."
"So. Stern Hope... the information I have been able to discover does seem to suggest some psychic phenomena occurring there. While I can't say, based on the muddled reports we have received, whether this is the result of some reckless, previously undetected psyker or something far darker, the evidence suggests that all such strangeness occurs in or around the new cathedral. Bleeding statues, manifestations, haunting noises, sounds of scratching from the walls..." He trails off and stares distractedly for a moment before retrieving a data-slate from his bag and reading it for a few moments before continuing.
Ah, yes, Stern Hope lies to the north, high in the mountains you may of seen on your way here. On a more civilized world, we could of gone directly to the outpost by air, but that's not possible here so we have to travel by the Pilgrims Road as they call it, a rutted dirt path is more like it. I've managed to secure us transport, an all-terrain flatbed, and I'm hoping one of you drives, as I've never been much of a hand at the wheel. We will pass through the barren shale wastes first though, and this is not a journey to take lightly. The locals claim the wastes have witnessed all of the greatest battles of Iocanthos' long and bloody history and remains to this day a favored battleground of the clans. No one knows for certain, but rumors claim that all manner of terrible things lurk out there, although bandits are the most likely threat, so we ought to be prepared for anything. Any questions?"
"You mention psychic phenomena. Could this be related to cult activities? We did see Ashleen sporting weird tattoos."
"Also, the name 'Crow Father', have you heard of it?"
Walking slowly into the room Deckard scans those assembled. At first he seems not to recognize anyone, then after looking each in the eye, he nods slowly and seems to come back to himself. "I apologize for my disappearance. I was distracted by a brief vision of the Golden Throne and lost track of the rest of you." Briefly waiting for any recriminations, he continues, "It shall not happen again. Where do we stand in our mission?"
"You did miss a firefight."
"You mention psychic phenomena. Could this be related to cult activities? We did see Ashleen sporting weird tattoos."
"Also, the name 'Crow Father', have you heard of it?"
"As I said before, the phenomena could be due to nearly anything, from a single undiscovered psyker to a daemonic incursion. Well, hopefully not the latter. Oh, no need to worry about the Ashleen. They do worship the Emperor, albeit in their own way. Their tattoos are more to ward off evil than to call it forth."
"The Crow Father? Never heard of it. Why do you ask?"
"So these Ashleen believe that their tattoos can ward off evil, eh."
"Oh, just a name I heard spoken at the spaceport. Perhaps, it's nothing."
At the mention of someone driving, Ivaanov sighed inwardly. For some reason, everyone always believed techs could drive as a default. No one seemed to consider the fact that he had spent his entire life cloistered inside a machine cult enclave, staring at obscure tech plates and archo runes.
He waited patiently for someone to ask him the inevitable question.
"Ivaanov, you can pilot the vehicle, correct?"
You've never heard of the Crow Father.
Gaia glances over at Deckard as he returns, giving him a cursory nod before turning her attention back to Aristarchus and listening to his briefing.
"I can drive if you want," she replies. Part of the Imperial training, afterall.
"How long should it take us to reach the cathedral?" Gaia then asks.
"How long should it take us to reach the cathedral?" Gaia then asks.
"It should only take about two days travel."
"Before we depart, is there someone who can look over my bruises to make sure it doesn't get infected or something?" Inquired Justine.
Turning to Justine, Deckard nods and approaches to tend her wounds. He focuses his thoughts and quietly intones an invocation to the Emperor to cleanse his mind.
Willpower Test for Invocation (1d100=8)
Feeling focused he reaches out to the warp and applies his thoughts to bind Justine's wounds.
Psych Test for Healer (1d10+4+4=16)
Damage healed from Healer Power (1d5=5)
Justine moans involuntarily as Deckard's healing power courses through her body and binds her wounds close. When she opens her eyes, she was as good as new.
"Thanks buddy," Justine turns to Deckard, "I'll try to save your life or something next time to make it up to you."
"No thanks are required. I'm sure we shall all be tested before this is over, this is just my part."
Ivaanov looked at Deckard as he asked the question. He thought that of all the people here, the psychic should probably know better, but still there it was.
He was about to reply to the man with a suitably sarcastic statement when the guardsman stepped forward and offered to drive. Will wonders never cease. Ivaanov had been under the impression that all Guardsmen were good for was killing things and getting noisily drunk. Huh! Go figure.
The irony of his own thought patterns were completely lost on the tech.
Watching as Dekard heals the injured Justine, he makes the machine cult sign of warding. "That is a useful talent friend Dekard, but I must say that tapping the warp for such things makes me nervous"
Turning to their host he adds, "If we are to leave for this journey, can you provide us with more supplies? I could use some more ammunition for this weapon. We may need some more micro beads in order to communicate with each other if things go poorly. Body armour or other protective devices. What resources do you have available for us good friend?"
" Oh, and I would terribly like to have a better look at the servitor drone you sent to fetch us. I was fascinated by the antigrav fields used to suspend the thing at a ifxed altitude while navigating such tight turns and avoiding the blast effects of a scattered fragmetnation grenade."
All of this was said in rapid fire, monotonal vox cast from the Techs face plate, yet his face above the machinery certainly seemed interested enough.
"I've already acquired outdoor gear, a vox unit and a lamp pack for each of you. For anything else, well, I suppose you could find what you're looking for in the Pits."
"Oh, feel free to examine the cherub if you wish."
"Aristarchus, we were kinda wondering if you can assist us in acquiring additional gear for this mission. Normally, we would have done that prior to coming but as we said earlier we didn't know the precise nature of the mission, hence, the haphazard preparation. To be precise, and I believe everyone agrees on this matter, we need more firepower. I for one am down to one clip. Not good if we expect a sustained firefight."
"Do you have some cash on you we can use?"
Turning to Justine, Deckard nods and approaches to tend her wounds. He focuses his thoughts and quietly intones an invocation to the Emperor to cleanse his mind.
Willpower Test for Invocation (1d100=8)
Feeling focused he reaches out to the warp and applies his thoughts to bind Justine's wounds.
Psych Test for Healer (1d10+4+4=16)
Damage healed from Healer Power (1d5=5)
"Do you have some cash on you we can use?"
"Well, I suppose I can spare 100 thrones." With a sigh, he places ten ten-throne notes on the table. "So, any last questions?"
"Do you have some cash on you we can use?""Well, I suppose I can spare 100 thrones." With a sigh, he places ten ten-throne notes on the table. "So, any last questions?"
"When do we leave?"
"And thanks very much for this. The Emperor protects."
"When do we leave?"
"And thanks very much for this. The Emperor protects."
"At dawn. Now, if you would all excuse me, I must get to bed. Good night."
"We need autopistol ammo and lasweapon charges. Can you help?"
"Preferably at prices considered at the service of the Imperium."
"Justine, you need a longlas?"
For Davi
"We need autopistol ammo and lasweapon charges. Can you help?"
"Preferably at prices considered at the service of the Imperium."
"Justine, you need a longlas?"
For Davi** spoiler omitted **
After a short period of searching through the crowded market, past the various vendors, you come upon a man who seems to have what you want. "So, you're in need of some weaponry? You've come to the right place, then. So, what do you need?"
"Thanks Burgos, but I prefer a hunting rifle. It pays to diversify you talents a little *wink*. Unfortunately, I am a little short on Thrones. Once this mission is over, maybe I"ll consider blowing my paycheck on one. Thanks for asking anyway." Justine smiles sweetly and bats her eyelashes.
Deckard allows his companions to make their purchases and silently prepares himself for the coming travel. He spends most of his time staring aimlessly into space, his mouth twitching slightly as he recites invocations to the Emperor and ponders the mysteries of the Warp. When the others are ready, he snaps out of his reverie and focuses once again on the present reality.
"The Emperor protect and guide us."
"A lasgun would be useful if we can find one," Gaia comments to Burgos in the market. "If trouble's likely, I'd like something that packs more punch than a pistol and can last a while before running out of juice."
"A lasgun would be useful if we can find one," Gaia comments to Burgos in the market. "If trouble's likely, I'd like something that packs more punch than a pistol and can last a while before running out of juice."
"A lasgun would be useful if we can find one," Gaia comments to Burgos in the market. "If trouble's likely, I'd like something that packs more punch than a pistol and can last a while before running out of juice."
"Not if we pool our resources, perhaps. I have 34 thrones. I would gladly invest in a combat shotgun for you to wield in my defense. The Emperor protects, but a shotgun protects a bit more violently. That is not something I am opposed to. Anyone else care to donate a little?"
"I am willing to contribute the 20 thrones that I have, but I would need it back when our paycheck comes in so I can get a rifle." Justine piped in.
Ivaanov goes along on the shopping trip, picking up some more ammunition for the revolver he scavanged. When Gaia talks of not having enough fire power, he offers her the weapon, "I have no trainaing in this type of device. Feel free to use it, I'm sure in your hands it may bring more of the Omnissiah's light to those who are set against us, than if I were to use it."
"I'll take an extra magazine or two of autopistol ammo."
"I am prepared. Let us proceed."
- Lasgun, -75 Thrones
- 40 Rounds of Revolver ammo, -2 Thrones
- 12 DumDum Rounds, -10 Thrones
- 2 Clips Autopistol Ammo
"Let's buy some scarves. We might need them once we head upcountry."
"Scarves? Why would we need them?"
"Fashion statement comes to mind. And you look very fine in red."
Justin blushes crimson, "Surely you jest..."
"I have around 30 thrones to add to the pot", Gaia adds. "And thanks."
"Thanks, you let me know if you're a little short on something. I don't think I'll be spending the 20 Thrones any time soon."