Dark Heresy: The Emperor Protects; The Assassin's Tale IC

[The Architect]

Dark Heresy:
The Emperor Protects;
The Assassin's Tale


"Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a god," - attributed to Goge Vandire


http://www.fantasyflightgames.com/ffg_content/deathwatch/news/rising-tempest/DW10_2048_Chapter-2-Chapter-Plate_652_ZacharyGraves1.6.png

Gaius, most of all, valued style.

While his future compratriots were pressed into habcells in the mid level of the ship his nobility allowed him to be wined and dined by the Rogue Trader Melorra Jantine. A woman who appeared to be in very early twenties but Gaius had learned that with revivication available a woman's age is never easy to guess within a range of half a century.

He was to be deployed as a preventitive measure. To link up with his team only after he had accomplished his initial objective, his cover being that of an officer of the Imperial guard, a Lieutenant Adrian Thor.

When he left the Talassar's Vigil he had assumed his task would take him only a few days, a quick sorjorn before he finally met the 'team' he would be enduring his sentence with.

Sadly that was not to be.

Not long after insertion, having stored his grav chute, he attempted to locate one of his targets. A noble who had taken up ownership of a place called the 13th Red Hall. He was informed that he was to remove the man so that the base of operations his allies would soon set up would not be located.

Except this noble did not exist. Oh he existed in the records etc, that Gauis was able to dread up during one of his trips into the ruins of the old Arbitrator's precinct but when he went looking for the same proof in the city's old financial records he found that no such House of nobles had ever existed financially. Whoever had bought the 13th Red Hall after the ending of the Haarlock line was a ghost, or fictional.

Normally all this would have meant was that after three weeks of searching Gauis would finally meet his allies, except that night while Gauis slept in one of the apartments he had been slipping between in the abandoned areas of the city he heard something that woke him.

He reached instinctively for his weapon on his bedside table only to see it had been moved to the armchair just out of reach. Terrified he looked to the end of the king sized bed to see a figure in a black cloak with the hood down standing there watching him, in silence.

Gauis had to admit, they had style.

What do you do?

[Destro_Yersul]

Gaius' first thought was that they were here to kill him, that one of his old enemies had caught up to him at last. But surely, were that the case, they could have done it already? Clearly they had moved his weapons, and a sleeping man is an easy target. The assassin rolled out of the bed, already dressed in plain clothes: it was a habit he had taken to, since moving quickly and staying about to throw on clothes were often mutually exclusive.

"Very good," he remarked, leaning casually on the end table. "Though curious. Might I expect an explanation as to why you're here, in my... well, this... room? Or was there something you wanted?"

His weapons were too far away to reach easily and get the first shot. He'd never been trained in basic hand-to-hand, though he knew the basics, of course. Still, better to see what the other man had in mind than it was to overcommit. Dying was so messy.

[The Architect]

"I am John,
your team's contact on this planet,"

http://idesigniphone.net/wallpapers/52214.jpg

She doesn't move but as you inch to the side of the bed you get enough of a view under the shadow of her hood to notice John might be an odd name.


"I wasn't meant to intervene but an hour ago your team mates got into a fire fight with the Mandato, a particular vicious and blood thirsty branch of the local enforcers. I'd been keeping an eye on them but it took me a few days to pin them down.

I need you to do something before you join them. I need you to capture someone and take them to the hall. I have reason to suspect one of the Rag-Kings, the local crimelords of the Undertow, the underworld to you, may have information on General Barbosa's murder. If so you need to locate that Rag-king and find out what he knows.

Actually out of the three who rule the Rag Court the one who might know something is the Rag Queen, Hesul or the Red Queen as she is more commonly known. Your mission is not to locate her but to locate someone who may know her location and take them back to the 13th red hall for Interrogation. Can you handle that?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"My specialities run more along the lines of ending life than preserving it. But then, I would be a rather poor agent if all I knew how to do was kill things. Where should I start? Unless you mean for me to figure that part out myself." While he was talking, Gaius searched his memory for anything about the local underworld. It always paid to be informed, but he hadn't been giving especial attention to the local hierarchy. His initial job hadn't seemed to be tied to it, but now... well, now perhaps an early life spent learning about less than legal pursuits might come in handy.

[roll0] Common Lore: Underworld, vs 31 barring modifiers

[The Architect]

"The Local bars and dives might be helpful in that respect, but yes mostly you will have to do this on your own."

She walks slowly over to the window which you now notice is open

"Anything else of note before I depart?"

Gaius:
Nothing immediately pops to mind for Gaius about this world's specific underworld.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Can't say there is. I'll get to work, then." Gaius sighed at drawing a blank, and went to collect his weapons from the armchair. The nearest dive would have to do for a starting point, but figuring out who to ask would be tricky. It never worked to draw attention you didn't want.

[The Architect]

John nods saying


"imperator protegit,"

in High Gothic, before leaping out the window. You hear a sound like a gun going off but she's gone by the time you reach the window.


--Later, after you've taken the time to ready yourself--

http://www.wildsoundmovies.com/images/star_wars_bar.jpg

You picked the first dive you stumbled on, and oddly enough you got a strange impression from the drunken muscle, smell of urine and violently chaotic atmosphere that you were in the right place.

The Harlequin's Last Laugh, the place seemed to have once been a theatre but the stage is now occupied by woman of more visceral entertainment and the space before the stage is now filled with a haphazard array of metal table, stools and booths.

What do you?

[Destro_Yersul]

Gaius was, once again, glad of his decision to go plainclothes. A noble's garments would stick out in a place like this, but as it was, he just looked like any other patron.

The assassin picked a seat at an unoccupied table, sliding into it and kicking his feet up like he belonged. First rule of blending in: always look like you were supposed to be there. Then, he sat back to observe the other patrons. Sooner or later, someone would give something up.

[The Architect]

As Gaius surveys the scene he notices a few strange characters who stand out;


A large brutish figure, easily seven foot tall. Hidden entirely under a cloack and hunched over drinking with two smaller men dressed in rags.
A lady of the night breathing fire in a booth in the corner to entertain her soon to be customers.
A man with a cybernetic arm, leg, hand and eye drinking alone and obviously depressed at the bar.
A man in a well kept suit and a metallic red hand, playing an electrolute in the opposite corner.
A lone woman in pale, old, white clothing huddled in the corner as if scared.
A man of wealth and taste sipping amasec while lounging in a private booth alone, and unguarded.

Who do you approach?

[Destro_Yersul]

Too many of these people were together. It wouldn't do to approach a group as an initial strategy, and it might not look entirely natural. The noble, if that's what he was, would be unassailable in Gaius' current state of dress, though he did wonder where the man's bodyguards were.

Acting like he wanted to get a drink, Gaius made his way over to the bar and sat down next to the man with the cybernetic arm. "You," he said, "look like a man who has a story to tell."

[The Architect]

The man glances over at you with a furrowed look

"Not unless yeh be fond of monsters and bastards boy, or hearing an old arb' get loose at the mouth, or be wishin' to listen to a poor old bit of gang muscle blather about pass glories."

When you don't leave immediately he grins

"Well if you ain't gonna frak off buy me a pint and say your piece."

He grins again.

[The Architect]

The Forum says you posted after me, but my post with the guy at the bar speaking is the last I'm seeing.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Past glories make for good tales," Giaus said, dropping a few coins on the bar to pay for the man's drink. "Or so I have found."

[The Architect]

He clutches the thrones and flips them between his metallic fingers.


"Fine, I'll give yeh my piece and then we'll be done with. A drink or two for an old man's story it is.

I used to be with the Arbs, till the Inquisition came a year ago. The Arbitrators took a lot of losses and more than a few pieces of me were among them. In the end when those arrogant grox frakkers finally left the Arbs paid for my limbs out of my pension and told me to find work elsewhere. At my age.

I used up what little savings I had quick, bounced around a bit you see. Those Malgrysian heretics who the Inquisitors took down left a lot of carnage in their wake, so the Undertow, the criminal element of our fine city florished as law enforcement was busy.

This woman Hesul, recruited me, she's a Rag Queen, a crime lord to you 'out of towner', they call her the Red Witch but she just likes torture and making people think she's in league with the demons the ecclesiarchy are always screaming about being real.

So that's all I am now, old, worn, half-metal muscle. A short boring story. . ."

As he trails off you get the impression he won't willing give anything else up, but from what he says he knows where Hesul is, the woman you're looking for.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Short, yes." Gaius mused. "You've fallen on hard times, it seems. Like your world. It's unfortunate, really." With a sigh, the assassin leaned on the counter. "I didn't come here expecting to find things quite so bad, you know. I'm something of a traveller, you see, a collector of stories. I thought this might be a good place to hear of the sector's founding, and its past, but it seems I was sorely mistaken."

Waving for the bartender, Gaius mentally tallied the number of thrones he had on him. With any luck, they would be enough to get his new friend drunk out of his skull on cheap rotgut. Drunks were, after all, much easier to manage if it came to a fight.

OOC:
The plan is to spend some coin, and get the fine gentleman with the augmetics completely plastered. Then, Gaius can remove him more safely.

[The Architect]

OOC:
It costs you 12 thrones, I'm being nice and not risking your whole plan on a roll. :smalltongue:

It takes less than you'd expect, much less, but sooner rather than later the man is slumped over the bar mumbling about the better times in his life. Half delirious with drink it seems.

[Destro_Yersul]

Gaius had held off on taking any drinks of his own, musing quietly to himself over a glass of water. Let the rest of the patrons think what they want, he wasn't about to go dulling his senses now.

"I'd say you've had a bit much there, friend. Time to leave, I think." Stepping away from his barstool, Gaius did his level best to help the drunk out the door. Getting away from everyone else without arousing too much suspicion would be the tricky part.

[The Architect]

As you stumble out carrying the man you catch a few stray glances from the other patrons but you try to avoid eye contact as you carry him outside.

You going to try to knock him out before you try to carry him to the hall or what?

Once you've decided head over to the main IC thread, that's Gaius approaching, carrying the guy you met in the bar.

[Destro_Yersul]

With his new friend in tow, the assassin made his way down the street. He debated knocking the man out, but he wasn't the strongest, and the poor fellow wasn't likely to remember much of this anyways. He could knock him out later, or just let him sleep it off. For now, it was best to help him in the right direction and let him carry his own weight...