At dawn, you all meet Aristarchus at the entrance to the town. Your vehicle for this trip is an old flatbed truck with no cab or roof except for a tarp that seems to be from a tent. With that, you all climb in and head into the Barrens.
If nothing else, the Barrens live up to their name. There's brown as far as the eye can see, only broken up by the occasional crater or ruined settlement. Occasionally you pass a skeleton, Ghostfire blossoms poking out between its shattered bones. However, don't let this description fool you, the trip is hot, bumpy and generally miserable. However, there may be something worse than the sun, and that's the wind. It seems to come from all directions at once, carrying the scent of death and iron.
Justine scans the barren shale wastes, the wind whipping her hair into a golden mess. "If this is the Pilgrim Road," she mutters, "I can't wait to see the cathedral."
"So, any of you know anything about the battles of Iocanthos'?"
Deckard surveys the desolate landscape, furrowing his brow against the hot winds, "I sometimes wonder if humanities desire to settle on places like this is the ultimate example of our need to conquer. Why else would anyone want to live here, except to say that they did?"
"I know little of the battle that raged here, save that knowledge which was provided us in our brief, little as it was."
Justine scans the barren shale wastes, the wind whipping her hair into a golden mess. "If this is the Pilgrim Road," she mutters, "I can't wait to see the cathedral."
"So, any of you know anything about the battles of Iocanthos'?"
Burgos points at Aristarchus, "Ask 'im."
"I'm sure he'd be more than happy to oblige you."
"So, any of you know anything about the battles of Iocanthos'?"
"Really, you would be better off asking about periods of peace here on Iocanthos. Those are rare enough I could actually tell you about all of them during this trip. The warlords roam the land, find Ghostfire blossoms, kill each other over who gets to harvest the pollen, then they leave to find more Ghostfire. It's a cycle that will never end, as long as Ghostfire is still needed."
The truck passes the corpse of a cow being picked at by several bird-like creatures. Now that you think about it, they're the only other living thing you've seen today.
Justine's eyes sparkled at the news of potential financial gain, "Tell me more of this...Ghostfire. Is it some kind of plant? What uses are its pollen for? How are they harvested and processed? What much are the final products worth?"
It didn't take too long for Gaia to become familiar with the flatbed's controls. It was beaten up and exposed, but she had driven far worse before. The roads were quiet anyway. Not to mention mind-numbingly boring. The guard wished that there was something to look at that was more interesting than yet another brown rock cluster.
As they pass by the dead cow, Gaia remarks dryly, "Here I was beginning to think there was nothing alive out here at all."
Justine's eyes sparkled at the news of potential financial gain, "Tell me more of this...Ghostfire. Is it some kind of plant? What uses are its pollen for? How are they harvested and processed? What much are the final products worth?"
"We passed a patch of them a few hours ago. The pollen's used to produce combat drugs for the penal legions. The armies pick every blossom they can find, haul it back to Port Suffering, where it's processed and sent as the planet's tithe. Who knows what would happen to the Imperium if the pollen flow stopped. Does that answer your questions?"
As they pass by the dead cow, Gaia remarks dryly, "Here I was beginning to think there was nothing alive out here at all."
"Ah, the shale crows. Dreadful little creatures, they're more feathered reptiles than bird once you get close. Sharp beaks, too. Local myth has all sorts of unpleasant legends about them. Not surprising, really. They eat more than carrion; they'll attack anything, if it's wounded or weak. That includes humans. No eyes in the damn things, no eyes at all..."
Justine makes a mental note to find out more of these precious pollens when she has a chance. For now, she's content to enjoy the rest of the ride.
"Ah, the shale crows. Dreadful little creatures, they're more feathered reptiles than bird once you get close. Sharp beaks, too. Local myth has all sorts of unpleasant legends about them. Not surprising, really. They eat more than carrion; they'll attack anything, if it's wounded or weak. That includes humans. No eyes in the damn things, no eyes at all..."
"Shale crows? Are they somehow related to an entity called 'Crow Father'?"
"Shale crows? Are they somehow related to an entity called 'Crow Father'?"
"The Crow Father? It sounds familiar, but there are so many myths about the crows here that the details start to run together. Any reason for asking?"
"I saw a man recently. He kept repeating that name: 'Crow Father'. I know it is highly improbable that this 'Crow Father' would have any connection with the weird happenings here. But I am a man of faith. Stranger things have happened for which reason and logic cannot provide an explanation."
"The man also said something about the Crow Father having two faces. Any legends on that in particular?"
"The man also said something about the Crow Father having two faces. Any legends on that in particular?"
"I'm truly sorry, but I just don't remember anything about any Crow Father other than the vague fact that he's part of local myth."
After a few minutes of silence, Aristarchus takes an ornate ivory set of cards from his pocket and gazes at them longingly.
"The cards help you relax, don't they, Aristarchus?"
"What do they depict?"
Ivaanov perked up at the cards. The trip had been amazingly dull for the tech so far, with no machinery or even interesting life forms to study. He had gone so far as to wind down his power output and become a little introspective, thinking over the schema he was working on for the antigrav engine he'd looked at on the cherub servitor.
However, the tarot cards brought him back to reality, and he leaned in closer as the others talked about them.
Justine tries to get a peek behind everyone's shoulders, "Are they playing cards or tarot cards?"
Justine tries to get a peek behind everyone's shoulders, "Are they playing cards or tarot cards?"
"The Imperial Tarot, to be exact. They were a gift from Abbot Skae, although I don't deserve as fine a gift as this..."
You continue to travel on through the barrens, the sun going ever closer to the horizon. Eventually, Aristarchus motions to Gaia to pull over. "Well, it's getting late, we should make camp. There should be some firewood in the back.", he says wearily.
"Shall we do 5 even watches or 3 watches of 2:2:1?"
Regardless of the order, Justine wishes to do first watch.
"I must rest. If there are no objections, I will stand the last watch."
Gaia nods to Aristartius and slows the flatbed to a halt. After the vehicle has come to a standstill, she hops out and begins to help setting up the camp for the night.
After building the fire and setting a watch schedule, you all settle in for the long, dark night.
Gaia:
Some time into her watch, something catches the guard's attention. Slowly, she reaches for her lasgun and rises to her feet, checking that the gun is armed and ready as she does so. She then points it towards the focus of her attention and calls "Halt! Who goes there!?"
Some time into her watch, something catches the guard's attention. Slowly, she reaches for her lasgun and rises to her feet, checking that the gun is armed and ready as she does so. She then points it towards the focus of her attention and calls "Halt! Who goes there!?"
The figure continues to approach.
"Is that you, mommy?" Burgos asks in his sleep.
Aristarchus continues to fitfully sleep.
Gaia feels a pang of fear grip her heart as the figure continues to move closer, but she shakes it off.
Just who was this? Gaia thought to herself. Something wasn't right here, she could feel it.
"I said halt!" she calls again, this time backing it up with a warning shot over the figure's head.
"What the frak?!"
Burgos wakes up and rapidly pulls his autopistol from its holster. Noticing Gaia's smoking gun, Burgos looks into the direction where Gaia is looking at.
Ivaanov's eyes snap open as the dreams of great cogs and the wheels of the machine god vanish from his mind. Something loud had drawn him from his slumber and it took a moment for him to realsie it was a shot from a lasgun.
He quickly extricated himself from his sleeping gear and stood, looking around his camp area for his las carbine.
"For the sake of the Golden Throne, can't anything go right?" Thought Justine as she rolls out of her sleeping bag to get behind the nearest cover. She then draws her las pistol and peek out to see what the commotion is about.
Just who was this? Gaia thought to herself. Something wasn't right here, she could feel it.
"I said halt!" she calls again, this time backing it up with a warning shot over the figure's head.
The figure crumples to the ground.
Justine will stay behind the cover with her pistol drawn, scanning into the darkness for other hidden dangers. She will let the others take care of the crumpled figure.
Deckard, awoken by the gunfire and hurried exclamations, observes the figure collapse. He scans the rest of the campsite's borders for any others.
Ivaanov stands and moves slowly towards the falled figure. "Make sure you cover me please. It would be ingomious indeed for this unit to be decomishioned as a consequense of stepping out of his sleeping bag to inspect a dead body".
As he moves his las carbine never wavers from pointing at the fallen person, but his eyes dart furtively about teh darkness looking for signs of trouble.
"Don't touch it!" Burgos warns as he moves to support Gaia.
Burgos kicks the body turn it over and look at it.
Burgos kicks the body turn it over and look at it.
Burgos is greeted by a grisly sight. The corpse of an Ashleen is lying in front of you, a large gash across his collerbone, going up into his neck. He has been dead for quite some time, as evidenced by both the stench and the fact that most of the softer exposed portions have been pecked out. (eyes, tongue, etc.)
Gaia nods to Ivaanov and Burgos as she moves forward to cover them, her eyes searching for any signs of further hostiles nearby.
As the ecclesiarch moves the fallen body, the guard's gaze falls upon it momentarily.
"By the Emperor.." she exclaims. There was something very, very wrong out here and she didn't like it one bit.