Rogue Trader: The Great Game

[LeSwordfish]

The Great Game

Prologue

Some men decide the fates of others with a boltgun to their skull, with shells falling around them and mud stinging their eyes. Some do it with a knife in a dark space, their only thought the full wallet and the gold teeth they hope every target to have. Aristos Timon does it in a room of bright lights and soft furnishings, with a mutter to a subordinate and less thought for his victims than for the steaming delicacies being placed in front of him.

The Timon dynasty is not the largest of the trader dynasties in the expanse, but Aristos Timon, its head, is said to have a finger in every pie, an ear on every committee, and a ship in every port. True numbers are hard to come across, but perhaps two hundred ships of frigate-class or larger belong to Timon. It's hard to believe that the wizened old man in front of you could be the most powerful man in the expanse, but Aristos Timon is small and feeble. A cobweb of tubes leads from his veins to a large machine behind him, his moth is covered by a dark breathing mask, and a scent of cloying perfume fails to mask the bile and decay that hangs around him. One of his skeletal hands twitches on a medicator, and the tubes hiss briefly. Several of the other traders around the room shift uneasily in their seats.

You aren't entirely sure why you've been summoned here. You are seated around a round table in the fine quarters of the flagship of Timon's fleet, in orbit around Footfall. A fine meal has been served, conversation has been stilted, and now, as servitors and assorted flunkies clear away empty plates, Timon seems to be coming to the reason you are here. Twelve traders are there in all, each with a group of hangers-on behind them. The other traders around the room seem to be an eclectic group, with none of the other major competitors to Timon present, and several more minor traders like yourself. Genadzy Van Haal, the most major of the group is next to Timon, a line of blank-faced seneschals waiting behind him. The Helligan sisters are there, Markus Valaxus, Lady Brass and her spider-servitors, Larsen of the Belgariad, navigator-captain Peverell, another two traders you don't recognise, one wearing his warrant of trade in a glass box on his barrel chest. And finally there is Josephine Tyle, her bodyguard waiting quietly. Since entering the room, Tyle has not spoken a word to any of your party, and only now that the conversation has died does Tyle look at you at all- a single, icy nod, and then back to Timon, who is beginning to speak, his voice wheezing out of the mask..

"And now, Gentlemen- and ladies, of course- to business. Let us be honest, we all know why we are here. I'm an old man, with no heir. Juvenat treatments have long since ceased to work. Not to impugne on your generosity, but i believe this fact has influenced your decision to meet me here tonight."

"And you are correct to do so. For tonight, i intend to finish this matter once and for all: I shall tell you how i shall choose my heir. Gentlemen, i wish to propose a great game, of sorts."

Here Timon pauses, and is overtaken by a coughing fit. A pair of flunkies lean forward nervously, but he waved them back with a clawed hand. Van Haal leans forward and slaps Timon heavily on the shoulder.

“Do calm yourself, old man. Dying before naming an heir would be tragic. Dying after dropping a hint like that, merely high comedy.” Timon and several members of the assorted company laugh heartily, none louder than Van Haal himself. Timon seems heartened by this, and after another hiss from the medicator, continues.

"On the planet of Marten's Outreach, there exists an archeotech artefact known as the Font. The first person to bring the Font to me will win this great game, and, when i die, shall inherit every penny of my fortune and every item of my capital."

“What say you to that, gentlemen?”

OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=13723615)

[Erik Vale]

Analgor muttered softly amoungst his group.

"Forces a choice on skill. Good thing the **** is fast, we will have the advantage. Hopefuly none turn to millitant.... He probably seeks to watch the outcome as a play."

Analgor stands in full robes of a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Shock stave in hand albeit deactivated. His stance was proud, if you could tell beneath his robes. His face mask, being instead a porcelean like mask that blended in with his face, didn't quite grant his voice the mechanical quality normally found amoungst members of the preisthood.

[Grailkeeper]

Deacon Broderick stared around the room of strange strangers nervously. None of his training with brother Caw-Stellar had prepared him for this. Things out here on the fringes were a little ... looser. And a lot weirder. Still though, no matter how out of place he felt some duties could never be avoided. He raised his voice as he had been trained, so that he could be heard above the multitude.

AS THE EMPEROR SAID, DURING HIS FIRST APPARATION TO THE MEDIANITES, "HE WHO WALKS THE PATH OF RIGHTEOUSNESS SHALL LIVE IN ME ETERNAL. HE WHO WALKS THE PATH OF HERESY SHALL...umm not."

"Tell us of the nature of this artifact so that we may know of it and judge it, um please."

[Erik Vale]

The techpriest's eyes could be seen rolling, and he whispers quitely just enough for it to only be heard in the group.
"Refrain preist. Let those that run the ship handle this, we can deal with the religous details latter, this is an item of archeotech technology, which means even if heretical it must be recovered, for use or destruction withstanding. Besides, there are always other boats to put you out on if you would be inclined not to help."

His head shook within his cowl.
"Besides, even I know varients verse better. I had it recited at me a few times, and you call yourself a member of the Echliesiarchy, does your spine only exist in spirit?"

Analgor obviously couldn't avoid taking digs, but then again, that had already been established.
Honestly, Analgor thought that the trader he served under must find it amusing to watch the two, since they weren't seperated by ship bulkheads.
Fortuneately, other retiunes murmerings should make Analgor's comments stay outside of others hearing.

[Grailkeeper]

Deacon Broderick knows better than to start squabbling in public, so he shoots the tech "Priest" a glare to shut him up. He hopes the cogboy is still human enough to recognise the meaning. He may show the priest his own spine, literally, if forced to.

[ChaoticSky]

Alia leaned in, putting her face directly between the two priests, interposing herself les they continue to squabble like juvvies, and grinned, "Look at the bright side boys, we dont have to get it first... we just need to have it last.". With her two cents added, Alia was content to hang back, she really wasnt worried about angering either of them... no one in the right mind would pick a fight with their own Navigator... and Alia was pretty atypical of her breed even in that sense, a fact attested to by the massive pistol on her hip and the uncovered Eye on her forehead.

Her Warp Eye was closed of course, but her steadfast refusal to cover it with anything more than her own bangs hardly set anyone at ease around her, the idea she could literally blink and kill them never tended to wander far from the minds of those she dealt with.... exactly as she intended.

[Sithis]

Eli

Currently, Eli was simply wishing he hadn't lost his hellpistol on Samson IV the year prior. Sure, he had his sword hidden under his worn yellow greatcoat, but he would have much preferred a firearm of some type. Perhaps he should start looking for a bolt pistol, just something a bit smaller and less conspicuous than his hellgun.

Putting these thoughts aside, Eli glanced around the room once again. He stood at Lord d'Arbanville's left side, ready to interpose himself between his Lord and any danger that might arise. Not that he REALLY expected there to be any danger here, but any that was there would have to get through him first.


Not sure if you want to deal with any rolls just yet, but I'd like to make a Awareness roll if I could, just to see what I notice around the room.

Awareness, Target: 39
[roll0]

[LeSwordfish]

Many of the assembled company have started talking at more or less the same time, but the deacon's intoned sermon cuts through enough for his question to be heard.

"Point." Lady Brass added, in a voice like cogwheels. "What's so important about this font?"

"The font produces water." Timon replied, and choked back another cough. "Clear water, free of contaminants. I discovered it through rumour some time ago and spent considerable resources over a significant period of time to acquire it for shipboard use. It has still eluded me however, and i confess to having a certain... obsession. I have failed once in my life. Before i die, i wish to remedy this."

There is a short pause, then Van Haal speaks. "Well. You can hardly blame a man for his dying wish being an irrational one." and the babble of questions begins again.

[Fearan]

Seating along with his loyal retune, Ethan d'Arbanville didn't differ much from most of the other traders which gathered to play the Game - a young looking man, who was actually approaching his 80-s, coated in ornate red and violet robe. He held his glass of fine amasek with thin fingers of aristocratic hand, contemplating the harmony of lights flickering on both the amasek and gem rings. He looked calm and disinterested in anything but words of Timon and the amasek. That wasn't too far from truth, for Ethan have left the detailed analisis to his men - why'd he need them otherwise. But he did notice of one person in the banquet - of course, no one else thfn Jozefine Tyle. The lady looked far better than last time he saw her - given, that last time he saw her on his ship after monthes of underdeck wars, that wasn,t surprising. "At least this endeavour will be more intresting than I thought first" - he thought. As for the Game itself...
- So, we are to succeed, where even the great Aristos Timon failed - Ethan finally spoke - - that is truly an exiting challenge, responding the spirit of the Warrant. I'm honoured and grateful to be invited to this dinner.It goes without saying, that I will accept the challenge. - Ethan stood up and bowed to their host in respect.

By the way, what's Marten's Outreach?
Common lore (Koronus expance) [roll0] vs 36

[Ghaundan]

Esarhaddon spoke softly to the two priests, not interested in enduring the embarassment of a quarrel infront of their "esteemed" competitors. "Now now my pious priests, perhaps we should wait with debating scripture until time is not such a precious commodity."

He stopped speaking immediately and leaned on his shock staff as his Lord, Ethan d'Arbanville began to speak, eager at the prospect of winning the competition. And if less honorable means had to be used, then so be it.

[Grailkeeper]

YEAGH FOR THE EMPEROR IS THE WATER OF LIFE WITHIN WHICH WE ALL BATHE. IS IT NOT THE CASE THAT THE DEFENDERS OF THE LION GATE WERE REFRESHED BY A MIRACULOUS RAIN OF WATER? SUCH A DEVICE MUST CLEARLY BE BLESSED IN THE SIGHT OF HE WHO IS MOST HOLY"

How shall we know the device when we see it? What did the rumours and your researches divulge? If one with your wisdom and resources cannot find the device then surely it cannot be found.

Lets try and charm some more details out of him [roll0]v 35, Whoo a pass!

[LeSwordfish]

As D'Arbanville stands to bow, one by one the other traders around the room do the same. Van Haal mutters "Too true, too true." as he does so.

"My understanding," Timon began, "Is that the font is a device approximately one meter high, either cuboid or cylindrical. Made of white marble or plastek, with no particular identifying features. Not entirely unlike a font in a cathedral, how it got it's name."


Tyle leans back on her chair. Attention slips to her, and she addresses the group at large for the first time. "Are we to presume violence and bloodshed are allowed?"

The tension in the room ratchets up a notch. More than a few rest their hands on their pistol butts. Lady Brass's servitors clank and rattle with the sound of autoloaders.

[Grailkeeper]

Broderick quitely flicks on the igniter on his flamer whilst quietly repeating the rite of purification by fire to himself. Oh mighty Emperor, if any of these fuggers is going to burn, make sure it isn't me.

[Erik Vale]

Analgor doesn't even bother to respond to the idea of violence. He had already had the idea, the question was if one was prepared to raise it.
He did speak amoungst the group though.

"Where he to forbid it, he still wouldn't stop it."

Without concious thought, he already memorises the discription and actions.

[Space Lawyer]

Vimeon is furiously taking note on his data-slate. He barely even notices weapons being ready. Barbarians. The second the idea of profit is raised, they resort to grunting and clubbing. He leans forward, and whispers into Ethans's ear. My Lord-Captain, shall I order the crew to prepare for departure? I would also like to perhaps arrange for a number of delays to inconvenience our competitors.

[Sithis]

Eli

All it takes is the implication of violence to completely change the character of the room. Eli's right hand comes to rest on the pommel of his sword as he tries to keep watch over everyone in the room.

Eli leans a bit closer to Lord d'Arbanville and speaks more quietly, so that only those immediately around them could hear. "M'Lord, unless there's more questions you'd like to ask, I would suggest that we take our leave and retire to the ship. I can't help but fear that someone here might decide to try something stupid."

[LeSwordfish]

The tension in the room lasts for a few more seconds, and the it is broken by Van Haal's booming laughter. "Gunfire and bloodshed- no way to play the game, gentlemen!" His tone turns a little more serious. "We play this game like gentlemen, like nobles, am i understood?" There is a certain amount of nodding. "I'd like to suggest.. a gentleman's agreement, if you will. No powered weapons. No starship weapons, autoguns, las-weapons, powered blades... nothing that needs a charge or an explosive. Primitive weapons, sure. But we are gentlemen- and ladies- and we will fight like gentlemen- and ladies. The speed of our ships, the steel of our blades, and the content of our minds."

"All in favour?" Timon intones.

One by one, hands around the table rise. Lady Brass, Van Haal and one of the unrecognisable men are the first to vote, with Peverell extending a slender hand moments after. Larsen crosses his arms with a harrumph, and neither the Helligan sisters, Valaxus or the other unrecognisable man raises a hand. Looking around the table, Tyle smiles slightly, before turning to d'Arbanville and, with her eyes locked with his, raises her hand.

"A deadlock, it seems." she says. "Your move, d'Arbanville."

OOC
Yes, you have the deciding vote. And yes, everyone is looking at you. And yes, she did that deliberately.

[Erik Vale]

Analgor speaks more to himself when he wispers, full knowing the room is quiet.

"A choice between being seen as cowards or to use our speed to our full advantage, should they hold to their word."

As he says this, he acts almost like he didn't whisper the words.

[Ghaundan]

Shifting his weight uneasily he concentrated slightly to communicate subtly to his Lord-Captain, not wishing to join the others leaning over his shoulder instead using his psychic abilities to transmit his thoughts, fettering his strenght as not to draw unwanted attension. Nor was more strenght needed over such short distances.


"I trust you do not harbour naive notions that these people will hold true to their word should the need to battle arise, my Lord. Rather, expect them to break it at the most unconvenient of times. And though powered weapons and space ships were not mentioned, psychers like me and other things were not. Things Van Haal probably has to tip things in his favour should we fight.

[Grailkeeper]

Broderick flicked off the igniter and went back to his dinner. His thoughts turned to the font.


If this thing produces water, chances are its near water, possibly a large body of water. It be unfortunate if there is no way of stopping it, or if it turned out to be at the bottom of an ocean of its own creation.

[Fearan]

Silence fell upon the meeteng hall for a few very long moments. It looked like, it was possible to hear the heartbeat of one's neighbour. Then, lord d'Arbanville began to speak. He started in calm, relaxed tone, slowly raising his voice up to the thundering voice of a preacer or battlefield commander.
- It is reasonable to impose such limitations, for we all are servants of the Emperor and there is no need for servants of the Emperor to die at each other hands. It is also noble of lord Van Haal to offer a chance to less successful families - Ethan looked over all, who voted in favor of the ban, stopping her eyes on Jozephyne for a moment - to face not all overwhelming might of his dynasty, but just his swordsmen - which, I'm sure are still exeptional. However - the voice raised - such limitations are born of fear. With all respect to lord Van Haal, I will show no fear neither to him nor to anyone present. And will face any obstacle, like it should be done - with blazing fire and a prayer to the God-Emperor - and Ethan made an Aquila sign - which conviniently enough included crossing of hands

[LeSwordfish]

Those who voted against the ban nod and agree. Jozephyne barely stops a flicker of dissapointment from crossing her face. Van Haal looks like he swallowed a sourfruit whole. "Very well," he snarls.

The appeal to the emperor seems to have had a great effect on the room. While the company is not naturally pious, the message seems to have got through that the noble cause d'Arbanville spoke of would be rather poorly served by a shootout.

"Are there any other matters?" Timon asks the room at large.

[Grailkeeper]

Indeed good Sir, I was wondering if you would be so good as to tell us the source of these rumours?

[LeSwordfish]

"Many locations. Multiple expeditions have found some or other confirmation of its existance. My latest expedition even set eyes on it, though they were unable to return it."

[Sithis]

Eli

Surprising even himself, Eli chooses this moment to speak up. "Lord Timon, have you knowledge of what dangers we may face on Marten's Outreach?" He glances around the room. "Besides each other, that is."

[Ghaundan]

He suddenly felt Timeon was holding something back, but not sure if it was on purpose or merely a lapse in memory. "Yes my lord, if you would be so graceful as to tell me. If your expedition set eyes on this wonderous machine, what or who prevented them from bringing it back?"

[LeSwordfish]

"The expedition had been operating on-planet for a considerable amount of time. Food and other consumables were extremely low, and the planet's... more unusual features... had reduced us to minimal size groups. A single member of our team discovered the font and beamed back pict-images, but we were unable to find the location again."

"As for those unusual features, well. I don't wish to spil the surprise."

"You can't tell us anything?" Van Haal asks, his geniality undermined by a slight growl.

"Oh, no, my friend." Timon responds happily, and coughs for a few seconds. It is, ahem, merely that I won't.

[Erik Vale]

"Would you like anything that remains of your expedition returned, or spoils of salvage?"
It was douptful he wanted it, but there was some measure of politeness Analgor's bones. But he may well want them returned considering he was already sending them to retrieve the font.
"However. Should nothing else way open the minds of those present, I believe it is time for us to wish each other luck, stable paths, and quick engines, and set forth on this task."

Yes, a bickering and seemingly petty preist was capable of presenting a nice face.
The lack of a grill probably helped over his brothers, something that made him a suited explorator, however none would have believed he wanted to get back to monitering their ships engines.

[LeSwordfish]

Timon moves a hand in a small, but unmistakably airy gesture. "Should you find them, you may keep them as salvage: nothing else remains on the planet of interest."

"Is there anything else?"

Nobody else asks a question.

"Then, gentlemen. I wish you good luck. I shall keep you all informed of updates by astropath. May the games begin."

Nobody has the lack of dignity to openly run back to their shuttle.


Nearly twelve hours later, you arrive back at your ship, in one of the massive dockyards on the edge of footfall. The warning you voxed ahead has had a flurry of activity to finish the ship's repairs, and as you approach the final welds are being made on a patch of anti-meteor sheilding. Sparks cascade down the wing of the ship, in a curtain of fire. Silhouetted in front of it is the ship's Master of Whispers, Master Aykin. He always had a flair for the dramatic.

"Ah, m'lord." He says, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake. "I hope the journey were nice. I took the liberty of doing my usual little, ah, digging. And i came up with some extremely choice information. If you'd care to follow me to the strat'garium."

The "Strat'garium" is soundproofed, and none but you and Aykin are inside when he begins to talk, after briefly scanning the room with a bug detector.

"So, my lord, we got a fast ship. We'll have no problem in a straight race to the font. But it aint a straight race, and everyone knows that. Thanks to that gen'lemens agreement not going through, we aint got a hope in hell in a stand-up fight. So we need ter think curvy. This is o'course all subject to what yer lordship thinks, but you know i got a good mind so i'm lettin yer know my thinks."

"Firstly, our opponents. Van Haal, Lady Brass, and Navigator Peverell have all got full-size battleships, and some fleet support. On the plus side, that means they're slow, on the minus side that means they could squash us like a bloodfly. With luck, they'll deal with each other. None of 'em have much reason to worry about anyone else."

"Larsen and Valaxus each have a collection of small ships. They can move fast. Far as i know neither of them has any idea about the outworld. Helligan sisters have a raider each, and are most likely to be working together. Our real threat though, is Tyle. She's outfitted as well as us, but she's likely to be gunning for us in particular. This game is a great opportunity for us to be wiped off the map, no questions asked."

"So. Curvy thinking. I been getting all the information i can on the Outworld. There aint much to be got, but i found three people who can give us a big advantage, if we can get'em on our side."

"Firstly, Navigator Belladon. Back before Timon was the only person interested in the place, Belladon navigated a few expeditions there. He's about the only person in the subsector with much knowledge of the warp around there. If we want to save time on our warp transit, getting his charts or speaking to him will speed us up a lot. He's currently on-station on an imperial ship orbiting the space hulk RTB01, located in the halo of the footfall system."

"Second, Adlai Mordechai. He's an archeotech expert. If anything's known about the font or its surroundings, he'll know it. Codes or special 'quipment might be needed, and if so he could get them for us."

"An' finally. You'll be so proud o'me m'lord, if i do say so meself. I outdone meself this time, if i do say so meself. I found us a member of Timon's survey team. The tracker, the one who found the font itself. 'Er name's Skr'ivva, of nomad clan Taar. A kroot, and you know what they say about Kroot. She's on footfall right now, and all. If anyone can find us the font, she can."

[Erik Vale]

Timon moves a hand in a small, but unmistakably airy gesture. "Should you find them, you may keep them as salvage: nothing else remains on the planet of interest."

"Is there anything else?"

Nobody else asks a question.

"Then, gentlemen. I wish you good luck. I shall keep you all informed of updates by astropath. May the games begin."

Nobody has the lack of dignity to openly run back to their shuttle.


Nearly twelve hours later, you arrive back at your ship, in one of the massive dockyards on the edge of footfall. The warning you voxed ahead has had a flurry of activity to finish the ship's repairs, and as you approach the final welds are being made on a patch of anti-meteor sheilding. Sparks cascade down the wing of the ship, in a curtain of fire. Silhouetted in front of it is the ship's Master of Whispers, Master Aykin. He always had a flair for the dramatic.

"Ah, m'lord." He says, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake. "I hope the journey were nice. I took the liberty of doing my usual little, ah, digging. And i came up with some extremely choice information. If you'd care to follow me to the strat'garium."

The "Strat'garium" is soundproofed, and none but you and Aykin are inside when he begins to talk, after briefly scanning the room with a bug detector.

"So, my lord, we got a fast ship. We'll have no problem in a straight race to the font. But it aint a straight race, and everyone knows that. Thanks to that gen'lemens agreement not going through, we aint got a hope in hell in a stand-up fight. So we need ter think curvy. This is o'course all subject to what yer lordship thinks, but you know i got a good mind so i'm lettin yer know my thinks."

"Firstly, our opponents. Van Haal, Lady Brass, and Navigator Peverell have all got full-size battleships, and some fleet support. On the plus side, that means they're slow, on the minus side that means they could squash us like a bloodfly. With luck, they'll deal with each other. None of 'em have much reason to worry about anyone else."

"Larsen and Valaxus each have a collection of small ships. They can move fast. Far as i know neither of them has any idea about the outworld. Helligan sisters have a raider each, and are most likely to be working together. Our real threat though, is Tyle. She's outfitted as well as us, but she's likely to be gunning for us in particular. This game is a great opportunity for us to be wiped off the map, no questions asked."

"So. Curvy thinking. I been getting all the information i can on the Outworld. There aint much to be got, but i found three people who can give us a big advantage, if we can get'em on our side."

"Firstly, Navigator Belladon. Back before Timon was the only person interested in the place, Belladon navigated a few expeditions there. He's about the only person in the subsector with much knowledge of the warp around there. If we want to save time on our warp transit, getting his charts or speaking to him will speed us up a lot. He's currently on-station on an imperial ship orbiting the space hulk RTB01, located in the halo of the footfall system."

"Second, Adlai Mordechai. He's an archeotech expert. If anything's known about the font or its surroundings, he'll know it. Codes or special 'quipment might be needed, and if so he could get them for us."

"An' finally. You'll be so proud o'me m'lord, if i do say so meself. I outdone meself this time, if i do say so meself. I found us a member of Timon's survey team. The tracker, the one who found the font itself. 'Er name's Skr'ivva, of nomad clan Taar. A kroot, and you know what they say about Kroot. She's on footfall right now, and all. If anyone can find us the font, she can."



"The Navigator Belladon would have to be willing to put up working with ours, but it is always best to enter the warp with a guide who knows the area well. At least, that is my experience, as little as my opinion may matter. With luck, we could get there before the whole thing started and return little after having truly left. However I doubt we will be that lucky. I myself know much of archeotech, but a second opinion is always nice, Adlai Mordechai would simply be that second opinion. As for highering the Kroot, well. If it must be scouted for, a Kroot tracker isn't going to help us more than some highered tracker teams from planets we stop at on the way, the time it would take to find and convince this Xenos would be better spent highering a small horde of trustworthy trackers. But, as I have said, they're many where whose voice carries louder, and my opinion is minute."

((OOC: Voting to pick up the Navigator, Abstaining from the Acheotech Expert, Voting against picking up the kroot (Or at least, any specific one)))

[Sithis]

Eli

Eli stands near the door to the Strat'garium, looking fairly disinterested. After Analgor has his say though, Eli decides to pipe in.

"Gonna have to disagree with your there, Enginseer. We have no idea where on the planet to even BEGIN looking, or what kind of nasty things might be down there. Having someone who's been there and knows what we're looking for would be better than an entire planet of trackers who don't. Now, I don't like the idea of working with Xenos anymore than the next guy, but it sounds like this one might be quite useful.

As far as the other two go, the Navigator sounds useful. Always good to know where you're going. And that other one...Mordechai? Well, he might know something we don't. If we have time to pick them up, we might as well."

[Grailkeeper]

Dealing with Xenos is Dealing in abomination. It is not a step to be taken lightly. I say we find the Archaeotech expert first, then see what needs to be done from there on.

[LeSwordfish]

"We might need a few more hours to prepare for takeoff, M'lord. Hiring the kroot now would save us time. And she is sanctioned. Apparently. If that helps."

[Grailkeeper]

If that is the case then ...umm... that puts a different spin on things. I'll say litanies of devotion and of repugnance for those who will come into contact with it.

[Fearan]

Ethan listende quietly as his trusted companions made their suggestions with a glass of some fine drink in his hand. He nodded? looking pleased as the Master of whispers spoke of rival's strengthes and weaknesses. Lord-Captain was agree with Master Aykin about lady Tyle's being the most problematic of the enemies. Yet, he wasn't worried, he even looked forward to meet her again in battle of ships or wits. As for the notable persons, he mentioned - well there was a lot to think about and a lot was said by the members of his retune. That included some things, he didn't want to hear on his ship.
Ethan coughed, demanding silence, and when his request was fullfilled, began to speak
- I thank the Master of Whispers for the job well done. This will serve greatly to the prosperity of the d'Arbanville, as well as the prospertity of everyone under my flag. I am willing to see those persons to join my cause and build the future of profit and wealth together. Yet, I will not offend house Kaelim by distrusting abilities of Navigator Alia. Our trusted friend and companion has the ship and our lives in her hands every time we wonder in the Unknown and there will be no other Navigator in her place. As for the others
- he continued - we will try to recruit both of them. We need the Xeno to shorten our path, and we need the archeotech expert to be able not to follow the rules blindly, but to get uor grasp onto the fullest of the situation. - Lord-Captain made a pause
- Now, for your assignment for the next few hours. We're leaving Footfall as soon as possible, so I expect maximum perfomance.

Vimeon - as everybody knew, lord d'Arbanville always adressed to his companions by their first name, unless the situation demanded otherwise - you will speak to the kroot. You know Xenos, and I hope, will come to an agreement with the creature. Be wary - as he have allready served to a Rogue Trader, he probably knows the power of our kind and his demands can become... unreasonable. Be wise.
Elijah - I'm sure, that we're not the only ones aware of the Xeno. Pick a squad and two or four murder-servitores and set up an ambush near the kroots location. You are to recover Vimeon if something goes wrong and hopefully, capture the rival's emyssary. Becides - kroots love ambushes, that may impress him.
Deacon Broderick - speak with the priests of the ship. Very soon some of my men will accompany me onto the planet. As there is unknown circumstances, we will not be able too rely on numbers. So you will pick the men which will be honored to go to the turf. As we don't know, what we will be facing, I see reasonable to rely on humanity's best shield aganst the threats beyond - faith. Pick the men, purest in faith and strongest in will, deacon. I don't know, who could do it better then you
Magos Analgore - I will ask you to oversee the ship's preparation for the departure. Seek surprises - I'm pretty much sure, that they are somewhere.

And one more thing. I will recall it only once, so everybody please listen. We operate under the authority of the Trade Warrant. We are blessed with right and burden to venture beyond the borders of Imperium - and that sometimes include the borders of the Imperial Creed. At the edges of the Holy Light of the Astronomical there are Xenos. All of them are despiseable, all of them are foul, but some of them are useful. The Trade Warrant demands not to destroy, but to exploit. I want you to show no disgust to the Xeno we will invite on board, or to any other useful Xeno. We will have to deal with them, for this is our sacred duty, bestowed by the trade warrant. Of course, as soon as the foul ones will outlive their usefulness, they are to be dealt with. With all available cruelty.

I will hear you once agan now, my comrades. Questions, ideas, thoughts - they are all welcome.

[LeSwordfish]

"We don't actually have ter recruit the navigator, per say." Aykin suggests with a scratch of his chin and a glance between the lord-captain and the navigatress. "But he'll have charts, and if we could beg, borrow or cadge them... that'd be useful."

[Sithis]

Eli

Eli cringed a bit at the mention of the murder-servitors. Damn, those things give me the creeps. "The servitors seem a bit much, M'lord. I think Raptor squad should be more than sufficient. Shouldn't take too long to get 'em ready, give me half an hour or so." He turns to address the Master-of-Whispers. "I assume you know where to find the Kroot?"

[Grailkeeper]

Broderick was glad to be away from the constant scrutiny of the others. HE set off to find those more like himself in the ships chapel.

[Erik Vale]

"I shall see to my tasks. I do however, offer support to Aykin's proposal, however I'm douptful towards its success."

Taking a short bow, Analgor leaves the room quitely to oversee the maintainence and repair teams, mostly performing organisation (Like he had to), but he makes sure to walk the areas that are being repaired. It would do no good for a sabatour to have slipped aboard, or for a neglegent crew members.
That, and he enjoys doing some repairs for himself, assisting crews.

[ChaoticSky]

Alia listened to the conversation, a shadow in the background for the most part, her expression visibly clouding over at the mention of another navigator, the navy often employed multiple navigators, but it was given special dispensation for that, and they were always of the same House. Trying to put two different Navigators on the same ship would not have ended well. Fortunately, she was saved from having to point this out by the captain, who was astute as always. The followup notion of simply taking what they needed from the other did suit her just find however, and she gently caressed the grip of her monster pistol as she spoke up "I volenteer to meet with my esteemed colleague and negotiate for his information" she offered, still stroking her gun.

Somehow, she gave off the vibe that the 'negotiations' would not be friendly...

Common Lore Navis to know details of the house?
int 37
[roll0]

*chokes* ouch, roller hate! clearly sexist, or purist, or something! i want a lawyer! wheres a arbite when you need one? :smalltongue:

[LeSwordfish]

"Not... Not as such. I know she lives and spends her time in the Bright-town docks area, an if you ask around there you could find her exactly. In addition, m'lord, kroot can be proud sometimes. Being there yerself could impress her a lot. Organ-grinder not the monkey, so to speak."

Any further questions for Aykin, or shall i split us up and move on? Where will those not specifically ordered go?

I'll admit, i'm looking at Cgrela's post history and wondering if its best to send the one of us that has posted the least into a major scene alone.

[Grailkeeper]

Not feeling too safe in the company of ... eccentrics on board the ship broderick resolved to always wear his Rosarius. Having found a birth in the ships chapel he began hearing ships confessions. Over the coming days he'd keep an eye out for particularly devoute crewmen who would suffice for the Traders intentions.

[Sithis]

Eli

Eli sighs at that. "Yah, I should have known. That would make things too easy." He turns back to Lord d'Arbanville. "I'll go get the men ready sir. Just say the word when whoever ends up going is ready to leave." He bows and then exits the room, heading down to the crew quarters to round up Raptor squad.


Eli is going to be taking his hellgun, meltagun, and mono-sword with him on this trip, as well as 3 reloads for each gun.

Because **** subtle.

[Ghaundan]

Esarhaddon followed, deep in thought, the master of whispers just driving his thoughts deeper.

"I agree with your wise words my lord" He bowed low, holding himself up by the staff "The kroot and xeno archavist will help us survive and retrieve the font. Timing however wll be difficult, arrive early and we can scare away the smaller ships true enough, but can we arrive early enough to be gone by the time Tyle shows up? Arriving at the same time as Tyle will also be bad, even if we survive the ensuing battle we won't be able to fend off Larsen of Valaxus...a difficult choice you're presented with my lord"

He waited respectfully before making his way towards the ship "Unless you need me, I shall retire to my quarters to prepare, but also to be ready to recieve any astropathic communcations. Who knows, maybe some of our competitors want to broker a deal"

[Fearan]

- So be it - d'Arbanville nodded. - Than I will personally oversee the negotiations with the Xeno. I also approve the negotiations with the navigator - we will catch on to the delay it may cause with the sheer speed - luckily, the Libertine is capable of outrunning everything, we can't oungun. As for the rest - Arch-Militant, I put trust in your words. But be prepared - we're dealing with powerful and tricky people. Let us start now - we all have a race to win

[LeSwordfish]

OOC
Firstly, I'm sorry about the delay. This one I have a genuine good reason for: my router died.

Those leaving the ship to find the kroot
A short shuttle ride takes you to bright-town, one of the largest, most bustling rocks that cluster together to make up footfall. Here the buildings are painted reds and golden yellows, a slightly feeble attempt to make the rockcrete habs and markets of rough scaffold frame and dank cloth seem a healthy place to spend one's existence.

No kroot are in evidence, and aykin's suggestion that Skr'ivva might be found in a bar is unhelpful, for every third building is some form or drinking or gambling establishment.

OOC:
To find Skr'ivva, test any relevant skill. (If it's not an interaction skill, explain to me how it's relevant). When you, as a group, have totalled three degrees of success, you'll find her. You can make more than one test each, but if more than your first test each is needed, you'll add one Delay token. Got it? I can explain in OOC.

Those remaining on the ship

Analgor
The ship's repairs are going well. A few problems are in evidence, though. "The plasma generators are running a little sluggish, so I've turned the teleportarium off because that has a massive power drain" Elanor Took, the ship's the ship's pilot and perhaps most senior of the normal crew explains. "Even when it's not running. The internal scanners need their old data flushed: the machine-spirits are grouchy. And crew 43kappa are taking their sweet time fitting the outer shell on the starboard augurs. All of these ate under control, but having the chief enginseer drop in and put the fear of cog into them could only speed things up."

Ooc
Tech-use to help with one of those issues, if you want.

Deacon Broderick
The corridors are crowded with voidsmen, and Broderick moves amongst them like the proverbial shepherd, meting out blessings and prayers as needed. Putting together a team of the faithful is not a difficult job for Broderick, who prides himself on being able to name every man and woman on the vessel. Well. Most of them. One in three, minimum.

OOC
Command or inquiry (or anything else relevant) test at +10 to gather the flock. Each degree of success grants a +5 to all you or D'arbanvilles command tests when leading the flock.

Anyone else
Aside from your normal duties, there is nothing for you to do aboard ship but wait. For the moment.

OOC
Want to do something? Make a test. Otherwise, Sit back and wait for something to happen. And it will. I'd appreciate some kind of post, even if it is "so-and-so takes a nap."

[Grailkeeper]

Broderick mingled with the crewmen, preaching of devotion to the Emperor as best he could. He kept an eye out for those who may be useful and made sure his sermons revolved heavily around praising ability and the imporance of duty when in their presence.

Charm[roll0] v 45

[Sithis]

Eli


Eli stands back, surveying the area. Finding one Kroot in this place...well, I suppose it could be worse. We could be trying to find one HUMAN in this place. He signals to the members of Raptor squad, giving them the signal to fan out before speaking softly into his mirco-bead. "Alright, fan out a little bit, but keep in visual range of me, Lord d'Arbanville, and at least one other trooper. We don't know if there will be hostiles, so until we have some indication weapons are locked."

After finishing his instructions, he turns Lord d'Arbanville. "Well M'Lord, where do you think we should start looking?


Using Awareness, to see if there's anything Eli can see that might point us in the right direction.

Awareness: Target - 39
[roll0]
Edit: Hell yah, a success!

[Erik Vale]

Analgor nods as he listens to Elanor.
"I shall go to the generators first, if those aren't ready by the time we have to leave it wont only be the trip that suffers a hazard. I shall see what I can do to placate the spirits from there, they seem to prefer me there, which is good because I prefer it to."
He shakes his head.
"You should however, have never turned it off, almost, but not all the way, get it warming up but not hot. Internal scan isn't me but if that bastard Harrad hasn't gotton of his arse into gear in time by the time I'm done He'll suffer and we'll do it... I'll drop into crew 43kappa's presence as I head to the generators, the shouldn't take long."

Since I can only actually help with one, I'll use it on the plasma generator:
Roll [roll0] (Int is 53)

[LeSwordfish]

Those on the ship

Broderick
The gathering of the flock is a success, and as Broderick prepares to return to the bridge he hears someone calling his name.

"Deacon! Deacon!" The young man stumbles out of a gap between two armsmen and into a space in the crowd in front of you. He is pale and sweaty, his hair lank and clinging to his head. He pauses for a second to catch his breath, and then continues to speak."Deacon, you must come quickly. It's- it's in the main lift shaft. Gerrick sent me. You need to see this, Deacon. It's, it's,- unholy."

OOC: +15 to command tests.


Analgor
"Enginseer?" Took's voice crackles over the comm-link. "Generator's back to full capacity, i'm restoring power to the disabled systems now. But there's something else. Gerrick was looking for you. He needs you in the main lift shaft. We found something when we flushed the sensors."

Esarhaddon
"Astropath?" The voice of Elanor Took, the ship's pilot and perhaps most senior of the normal crew, crackles over the comm-link. "Gerrick was looking for you. He needs you in the main lift shaft. We flushed the junk data from the internal sensors and rebooted them, and, well, we found something."

Alia
"Milady Navigator?" The voice of Elanor Took, the ship's pilot and perhaps most senior of the normal crew, crackles over the comm-link. "Sorry to bother you. Um, Gerrick was looking for you. He needs you in the main lift shaft. We flushed the junk data from the internal sensors and rebooted them, and, well, we found something. I think we need your expertise."

Everyone aboard ship
"This is the main lift shaft."Gerrick, captain of Kite squad, explains. "We use it to move large machinery to and from the drive room."

The lift shaft is wide and dark. The red light of the drive room casts up from below, and the mesh gantries around the shaft at every floor conspire to create the feeling of a beast's throat. Strip-lights buzz, and make the gloom appear oily and denser. Two other members of Gerrick's squad climb the ladder that leads down the shaft's edge, lit by the torch-beams of one of the murder-servitors, a heavy bolter-pattern that stands aside placidly.

"We only found them by accident. Flushed the old data in the internal scanners and rejiggered them, and four new contacts appeared. Took sent a squad down to check it, and, well. Here they are."

The lift is on the level above you, which means that the corpses that hang down from it are on your level. Five bodies, bound with thin wire and strung by the ankles, necks, and chests in a grisly cluster they sway gently in the draught released by the open doors. Their frames are thin and gentle, the cloaks they wear of delicate manufacture and their skins pale and blemish-free, but each one has been horribly maimed. Dozens of lacerations cover each one's body. Wires twine amongs the muscles on their thin limbs. One has been skinned from the neck up, another gutted, a third sliced open from sternum to stomach with a blade so sharp as to leave him as like an anatomical model: wires hold the would open. One is so thick with gore as for his injuries to be invisible. The final, lowest corpse is female, and has wires hooked through her tongue, leading down to a cluster of small devices below. Blood trickles over faces and chests, and falls into the shaft in gentle drips.


Chapter One

Fear Not The Alien

OOC
Fear (1) test please. If you have it, Forbidden Lore (Xenos), too.

"When we found them we knew you'd want to know." Gerrick offered. "Their weapons are up on the lift platform. Mostly broken."


Those on-planet
For now, waiting for either Fearan or Erik to post. I can hardly blame you for not amassing three degrees of success single-handedly, so if neither of them has posted in another 24 hours, I'll call it a success and move you on.

[Grailkeeper]

Broderick quickly gathers up his things and gestures to the armsmen to follow him.


Umm, what is it my child he says running beside the young man towards the problem Something in need of prayers or a more serious remedy?

[Erik Vale]

Analgor (Ships Main Lift) (WIP)

(Rolls:)

Willpower: [roll0]
Knowledge Xenos: [roll1]
((Large Success Willpower (5/31,) Success Knowledge Xenos (48/51)))

Analgor had seen worse. He stayed in steel eyed an almost uncaring, his voice flat as he spoke.

"."

[Fearan]

What's Ethan never intended to do is to search for the kroot personally trough all of Footafall's filthy den. He got a better idea. The xeno was sanctioned, and that mean, he leaved trace in whatever they use instead of Andministratum here. All he needed is to convince the authorities, they better give the information right now.
OOC: We'll just go and request this information from local officials, preferably, the liege himself. Will take some work, though
Charm test vs 68 after all modifiers [roll0]
Oh, well, a degree. Spending a Fate point to get another one, totalling in 3. BTW, how do we regenerate FP's here?

[LeSwordfish]

Those on-planet

When a direct request from a trader himself is made, the members of the administratum are definitely keen to fulfil it. It takes an itchingly long time, but finally a minor adept arrives with a slew of apologies and the news that Skr'ivva's registered domicile is the bar known as "Mr Stephen's Place", on enterprise square.

Brighttown is a district of colours and shine. Every building is painted a different colour, and footfall's sun shines more brightly here than, it seems, anywhere else. Mr Stephen's place is situated on one edge of a small square, with a fountain-seemingly made of oilcloth and a burst water main- and several dilapidated plastic plants in the middle. Trade is not brisk at the moment, and most stall holders sit with their feet in the fountain, discussing the price of something or other, and keeping children away from their stock with shouts and thrown stones.

Of course the trained eye sees the district as a place for combat. A boarded up transit station at an angle to the bar could make a good place to set up mounted weapons to cover the square. The only entrance to the square could be covered by an ambush on the roof of the low hab-block there.*

Inside the bar it is dark and cool. A small group of clientele are gathered around a grimy bar. Advertisements flicker on a pict-plate, providing almost the only light. Along one wall are a row of booths, and comfortably ensconced in the end one is Skr'ivva.

Like all kroot she is over seven feet tall, seemingly built out of whipcords and fibres. Long cream-brown quills on her head, beady eyes and a heavy beak, a wiry body wrapped in cloths and fabrics that might have once been overalls, arms and legs like saplings with dozens of talismans, and finally long, clawed feet, currently resting on the table. As you approach Skr'ivva eyes you with mild interest and takes another slug of Alcohol, before talking, finally, in heavily accented gothic.

"You must be one of Timon's little cadre. I'm surprised, I was expecting you lot sooner." She laughs, a series of clicks and whistles that shakes her thin chest. "Sit down. Tell me how much you want to pay me, and I'll tell you why I'm worth double that."


Chapter One

Fear Not The Xenos



On the ship


Broderick
"It's horrible, sir. Please, come quickly"

(Now read the "Everybody on the ship" section in th last post)

Forbidden Lore (Xenos) - Success
They are Eldar, the ancient race of sentient Xenos, often known for piratical ability.

Forbidden Lore (Xenos) - One Degree of Sucess
They are Eldar, the ancient race of sentient Xenos, often known for piratical ability. The devices hanging below them appear to be Haywire grenades, known for the great damage they do to tanks and electronics.

Forbidden Lore (Xenos) - Two or more degrees of Success
They are Eldar, the ancient race of sentient Xenos, often known for piratical ability. The devices hanging below them appear to be Haywire grenades, known for the great damage they do to tanks and electronics. Their clothes and garb show them to be those of the "Ranger" subtype, Eldar who travel amongst the stars protecting the Eldar holds from afar.

[Erik Vale]

Analgor (Ships Main Lift)

Analgor had seen worse. He stayed in steel eyed an almost uncaring, his voice flat as he spoke.

"Eldar. Our ship has been infiltrated by Xenos and another faction..."
Those that didn't have a clue now did.
And probably shat themselves.
"I can't remember anything more off the top of my head, but we need to recheck everything and seal the ship. While it was Xenos that were killed, it was no accident of their own while attempting sabotage, and I doubt it was by one of our crew. The ground parties need to be informed and called back."

[Sithis]

Eli


Eli watches the environment as they walk through the square to the bar, trying to decide on troop placement. Eventually, he activates his microbead once again. "Alright, Fireteam 1, take the heavy bolter and set up in that building over there. The...transit station. Try to get the best coverage of the bar and the area in front of it you can. Fireteam 2, you set up on the roof of that hab-block there. The one that overlooks the entrance to the square. We're going into the bar, and I want you to tell me if you see ANYTHING at all the MIGHT be remotely suspicious." He continues walking as he gives the orders, finishing just about the time that he and Lord d'Arbanville walk into the bar.

When they get inside, Eli moves to a spot where he can watch as much of the bar as possible. He doesn't really listen when the xenos talks, he's too busy keeping track of the vox-chatter from Raptor squad. It's up to Lord d'Arbanville to talk the kroot down anyway. For now, Eli watches and waits.

[LeSwordfish]

On board
"Got it." Clacking input-tiles suggested Took was already passing on the commands. "Do you also want me to seal off the lift area, in case it hasn't got far?"

[Ghaundan]

On the ship

"Something that can't be said over vox?" His pace already picked up, not waiting for an answer. It was something to do and he had many ideas as to what. First and foremost, sabotage.

Reaching Gerrick he stops and looks at the grusome scene as the captain speaks
"Emperor preserve...I presume these are our people? Just bring us up to speed captain, the perpetrators might still be on board. However, I hope we all agree we shouldn't alarm the crew uneeded as they are busy preparing the ship for flight."

Test Forbidden lore: Psychers [roll0]

[Erik Vale]

Analgor [Main Lift]

Analgor take a moment to think.
"Given time that Internal scan has been down, who or whatever did this is probably long gone... Reduce the area to restricted access and have the entire ship on the lowest level of Alert we can have without drawing to much attention or creating too many deserters... We're going to have to reconsicrate the lift."

This last thing he says with a slight growl. Wether its anoyance at having to do the ritual or working with the deacon no one could tell. Looking to Esarhaddon, Analgor does the stupid thing of all but outright insulting the Astropath.
Yep, he was annoyed all right.

"If you had bothered to show up, you would know that these corpses are Eldar, which is rather unusual but something major. Now If unless someone has any useful input, this place needs cleaning up and consicration is going to have to wait a short time given the other works neccessary. Took, I presume you have the teleportarium warming up, if not get it done. The Machine Spirit, bless it, is probably sluggish due to some sort of sabatoage, but first the members of the crew that contribute to such acts need to be prodded, even if they are just being lazy. Get additional overseers to meet me in Elevator 6Fgv8, I need to have some strong words with Crew 43kappa, and any others you have noticed in being lax... Also make a note that whoever his running the guard needs to be spoken to by our 'Trader."

It was rare for Analgor to have strong words with the crew, and everyone knew what strong words ment comming from a member of the Machine Cult when he talked about sabotage around 'their' machines. Analgor had barely passed through last time, and his words had probably gone unheaded. If they hadn't improved several fold however, a few workers may well be ending up in medical.

[Ghaundan]

On the ship

It had been a long time since Ershaddon had sounded geniunly surprised, but this was one of them. His empty eye sockets stared at the dead forms, to his psychic eyes they looked like any other dead body. A bit slender perhaps, but nothing else. He returned his gaze to Analgor "They're eldar? This doesn't bode well. Xeno's never do. We must inform Lord Ranath. I know little of Eldar, do they work as mercenaries? Our competitors could have hired them. And I presume searching them for clues is pointless?"

He paced quickly back and forth, pondering the implications of this "Captain, where's the closest lift? I need to inform our Lord of this and I will not have such sensetive information transmitted via vox"

[Erik Vale]

Analgor [Ship main lift]
"Don't Know but it's probable they're mercenaries, I will have to take a few moments latter to run through my memory. Given harm probably pointless to search them.... I'll get a servitor to collect them, then we will pass it of to our medical and weapon techs."

[LeSwordfish]

On Board The Ship
Upon being asked if there is a lift nearby, gerrick considers the question. "There's an auxillary lift thirty-five meters northwest. I think it would be useful if you had a look around, first. Crime scene investigation, sort of thing. We don't know what happened here, so just cutting and running won't help. There's four rifles up on the platform."

OOC
Unless i'm missing something, you can astropathicaly message the ground team from here.

In addition, something's amiss here. Succeed on an intelligence test to find out what (Or just work it out OOC) below:
Four rifles. Four grenades. Four life signals detected.

Five bodies.

[Grailkeeper]

Ship Deacon Broderick turned up at the crime scene, he stood transfixed unable to turn his eyes away from the bodies. It was repugnant.

[ChaoticSky]

super secret on ship message! >_>
Alia was brooding when the call came in, she really had been hoping to meet her esteemed colleague, House Kaelim had its scores to settle, and bagging one would have earned her much respect. But oh well, one of the enemy captains was a navigator, perhaps shed get to kill him before all was said and done.

Cheered by that thought, she was about to return to her alcove and begin plotting the journey ahead when her ear buzzed and the voice of a certain Took started nattering to her. after a moment, she shrugged to herself, and responded "Very well, tell him I am coming., as she pulled a hard right through a corridor and started heading for the main lift.

[LeSwordfish]

Alia
"I'll let him know."

You can/should now read the "Everybody on Board" spoiler, and all the on-board spoilers too.

[Fearan]

*OOC: sorry for keeping it this long. My Internet provider hates me.*
Ethan's search have brought him to the reasonably clean bar somewhere in better sectors of Footfall. Still, he would probably abstain from coming personally, if it wasn't that important. He listened to the "greeting" the xeno gave him with a poker face, yet he had to made a pause before answering, to overcome the urge of answering with the order to the fire-teams.
It is customary to greet your negotiaton partner. I'm to be adressed as Lord-Captain d'Arbanville, and no amount of your usefulness will change that. Is it clear? - apparently the kroot wasn't the only proud being in the inn. - Yet, I'll not require elaborate ceremonies - I do like that you moved straight to business. Still, I don't see the point of making a reasonable offer, if you'll try to double it anyway. So... let's start with *making a commerce check to make an offer, that is at least somewhat reasonable [roll0] vs 48*

[LeSwordfish]

In the bar
There is the slightest of tense silences as skri'vva digests this, and then she nods. "Fair enough. That's a good start, at least. Take a seat, have a drink."

OOC
The Commerce check has got her attention. Intimidate/Barter/Decieve/Charm (Yeah right) tests could cause her to look more favourably on you, as could accepting her offer of a drink. Kroot are not noted for their love of authority, i warn you.

[roll0] Commerce roll to Oppose yours. Failure: You have, for however long, the upper hand.

Eli's comm-bead crackles. "Sir, three approaching the bar. Too nicely dressed to be locals. Two men, one woman. Seem to have a firearm apiece. One of the men also has a chainblade. Requesting orders."

[Sithis]

Eli


"Do not engage, but have a few men move closer and prepare to intervene if necessary." Eli switches channels to Lord d'Arbanville's com-bead and whispers*, M'Lord, we may have company. Any chance we could speed this process up?"


*Basically, trying to keep the kroot from overhearing.

[Fearan]

Bar
Ah, new expirience - with this words Ethan accepted the offered drink. He wasn't fully sincere on that one -he actually had a lot of strange brews in his collection on board of "Libertine", and he actually tried most of them. Yet, he didn't recall drinking in this particular bar, so thaty counted as new. Now, you announced the rules of the game, and right now I'm willing to play along. Your move.
Lord-Captain was suddenly interrupted by the voice in his microbead. He grinned and answered: - Just stick to the schedule. Nothing is out of place - he reaaaally didn't understand why his trusted Arch-militant hestitates instead of following Ethan's orders, but that could wait. He wel deal with the competence issues later.

[Fearan]

Oh, and a charm test. Sorry for double-posting
[roll0] vs 48

[LeSwordfish]

On the planet
"Got it. Maintaining position. Tagged them for the servitors, though."

Skr'ivva has no interest in small talk, and after growling an instruction at the barman she waits for the drink in silence. When the drink arrives she swigs it in a single gulp and, after a choking cough, begins to speak.

"So. This is why you-" The door opens, and the group that you were told about enter. As mentioned there are two men, massive, burly thugs carrying autopistols, and a woman, wearing a chainsword at her hip and a bolt pistol in a sholder holster. All three wear the brass globe pin of Lady Brass. The two men take up positions next to the table, and the woman sits down sharply. The bar's other clientele look around at them suspiciously, but Skr'ivva gives the newcomers a brief, suspicious squint, before seeming to pass them, and waving a "let it go" hand at the other barflies.

"Skr'ivva of Taar." the woman begins. "I am an emissary of Lady Brass. I wish to purchase your services for a period of one month, to assist with an expedition."

Skr'ivva looks from you to the woman and back again. "What have we here? It's a bidding war, my second favourite kind of conflict." She sits back comfortably, with a wide smile. "I'm glad i dont have to say this twice. This is why you want to pay me lots of money to work for you. Number one: I am the only person alive that knows the exact location of the font. That is what you are after, don't pretend otherwise. Don't care what Merrick says, i could find that damn thing with my eyes closed. Number two: it took us two months to find the entrance to the catacombs. That's the price of not having me. And number three: twenty good men died in those catacombs, and i didn't. Again, the price of not having me on board. There's other reasons, but those are the ones i can sum up easily."

She looks between you again, and then names the price you placed earlier. "That is lord d'Arbanville's offer. What do you offer?"
"An additional twenty percent." The woman replies immediately. Clearly she has money to throw around. Skr'ivva's grin widens, and she turns back to you.

To bid for Skr'ivva: Opposed acquisitions check: Your PF vs Lady Brasses, which is unknown but much higher. You add 15 to your PF, for coming in person (+10) and making an effort to charm Skr'ivva (+5). Charm, Commerce, Barter, Carousing, etc, checks can all be made, with each success adding 5 and each failure by more than one Degree of Failure deducting five.

The benefits of Skr'ivva: She's not kidding about being the only person to know where the font is. Without her, you're reliant on, at very least, following someone else. In addition, while Skr'ivva is in the party, all Barter, Survival, Climb, Navigate (surface) and Forbidden Lore (Xenos) tests are at +10

[Erik Vale]

Analgor (Main Lift)

After a time Analgor asks one of the crew still around.

"Pass me a slate, I wan't to look at the scanners readings again."

And then he saw it.
He thumbed the switch on his staff, and it lit up ready to shock. The crewman took a hesitant step back, afraid he was going to be beaten.

"There is one to many bodies here."
Already he was walking towards the corpses, ready to touch one of them with the body of his staff. He was already looking for differences.

[Fearan]

Ethan made a sip of his hideous Footfal drink and interrupted the emyssary's foolish blather with a simple AHEM!. Then, when he caught the attention, he adressed to the woman with cold fury in his eyes and plenty of frost in his voice
It is a pity, that I have to say it twice - it's customary to greet your partners. Is house Brass tries to insult house d'Arbanville? That would be most unfortunate. Next - your offer is void, for ourrespected host had allready requested double from my initial offer. And finally - this is not a bidding war - he made a healthy dramatic pause, and then have put a hand already holding his trusty plasma pistol on the table, yet not aiming at anyone - it's an ambush - and in the next moment to the micro-bead: Eli, what's keeping you so long?

[Ghaundan]

On the ship


"Captain, post guards on the elevator and order another squad to search the immediate area to where it leads, tell them they're looking for a stowaway or somesuch"

He slowly drew his pistol, merely supporting himself on the staff "I noticed the same Analgor. You're the expert on such creatures. Should I inform our Lord or would you like to do some tests first so we have something concrete to show? And do tell if my skills can be of any help, if even just to end these cretin" He nodded at the deacon, agreeing to his reaction, even if he himself had hidden it better.

[LeSwordfish]

On the planet
As soon as Ethan reaches for his weapon, Brass's men do likewise. The massive size of the plasma pistol causes them to hesitate though. The emissary however smoothly swings out her chainsword and draws back from the table into a duelling position. "Should you quarrel, sir, the house of Brass shall meet you."

"Moving up." Albrin announces from outside. "Team one, take the bar. Team two, over watch the street."

Skrivva takes her feet off the table and frowns slightly, as if someone had delivered her the wrong drink. "Ey, ey ey. Keep yourself polite folks. While I'd love to see my first favourite kind of war today as well, here and now is not the place."

Should you press the issue, begin combat time. Skr'ivva, the emissary, and the thugs are all at point blank range. Nobody is surprised. Albrin and his men will enter at the end of the next turn.

On the ship
Gerrick's nods. "Cutting them down now." He motions to one of the servitors, armed with a pair of long mechandrites, and it braced itself with one and extended towards the macabre bundle with the other. The guard next to it brings up his lasgun slowly. "Sir! Something's-"

And then all hell breaks loose. The lights flicker and die, plunging the room into thick black darkness. The guard who had been aiming his lasgun shouted, in shock and fear, and opened fire, semi-automatic fire las bolts streaking across the room. In the strobing blue bursts of the lasgun, a dark shape peels away from the hanging corpses and leaps across to the shouting guardsman, swinging like an ape on the extended mechandrite of the servitor to leap into midair. High above the guardsman's head, the shape draws a pair of bright blades that glitter twice as two bolts streak past it, and then it falls.

With a wet slicing noise, the shouting of the guardsman and the lasfire cuts off short. Others are shouting now. "Contact!" Gerrick yells, "Contact! Mandrake!"


Initiative:
Alia: [roll0]
Analgor: [roll1]
Esarhaddon: [roll2]
Broderick: [roll3]
Gerrick: [roll4]
Guardsmen: [roll5]
Servitors: [roll6]
Mandrake: [roll7]

Surprising no-one, the mandrake is first. Surprising everyone, the servitors and the redshirts are next.

Those of you who passes the intelligence test are not Surprised, otherwise you are. Darkness reduces all BS tests to hit the mandrake by 30, if you can light it up this is removed.*The mandrakes actions for this turn are essentially a charge action.

Combat takes place on three levels, each three meters apart. A ladder leads between the two levels, and for the sake of simplicity I'll say can be treated as six meters of clear terrain to climb, or three meters with a successful agility test.

Level one: three guardsmen, heavy bolter servitor

Level two: you, Gerrick, one guardsman, heavy bolter servitor, hanging corpses

Level three: two guardsmen, two half-guardsman, mandrake, utility servitor, lift.

Full combat maps tomorrow morning: for now treat the mandrake as 10m away.

[Erik Vale]

With a click of fingers a red lance of light flies out from under the sleeves of Analgor's oversized robes where he keeps his hellgun. However all it serves to do is vent panic, frustration, and air from his shirt, as the shot burns into a nearby peice of railing, flying above the mandrakes head.

[Grailkeeper]

Snapping out of his shock Broderick raises his flamer and bathes the shadow thing in purifiying fire.


OOC
[roll0]

[LeSwordfish]

As the mandrake lands, Gerrick, Analgor, and Broderick are already shooting. Analgor's shot pings off a railing harmlessly, and Gerrick's lasbolts burn hot holes in the walls of the lift, but Broderick has more success, hosing the creature down with gouts of holy flame. The mandrake screeches and shies back from the fire, but its clothes don't catch and as the fire touches its skin ist hisses into steam.

Frost is beginning to spread around the chamber. Gerrick growls in fury and begins working at his jammed gun, clearing ice from the interior. A chill wind begins to blow up the shaft.

The mandrake recovers from the flame and leaps towards the servitor reaching out for the corpses, slicing the mechandrite off the servitor and kicking it into the shaft, before moving in to attack the final guardsman on the top level, who raises his bayonet bravely to meet it.

Mandrake: Move, attack.
Guardsmen: Surprised
Servitors: Surprised
Analgor: Logis implant, hellgun miss.
Gerrick: Full Auto: [roll1][roll0] [roll2][roll3][roll4]
Broderick: Successfully does 7 damage to the mandrake.
Esarhaddon: Surprised
Alia: Surprised/didn't post.

As the mandrake's chill aura spreads through the shaft, weapons become more prone to jamming. Any weapon with a chance of jamming doubles that chance.

[Ghaundan]

On the ship


Ershaddon reeled and felt fear grip his heart, concluding he'd only get closer to the thing when it was dead. Not wanting to shoot in case he hit the guardsman he decided to let the Mandrake feel as he did, and tappet into his psychic powers.


Psychic scream:
Willpower:[roll0]
Damage[roll1] Shocking.

[Fearan]

Lord d'Arbanville laughed at the emyssary's empty threat. - Don't try to threaten me with the wrath of your house. Even if it will be willing avenge you, you won't leave to see it. You have insulted me. Apologize and get out of here, or face the consequences of your ill choise. *untrained intimidate check vs 24 [roll0]* - Ethan wasn't really expect the emyssary to leave, he just held his ground until his men enter the bar. As for the words of the Kroot - he had them ignored - it was not for the Xeno to decide, where and when Ethan will fight. And he obviously would hear nothing, the impolite Kroot would tell him about the manners

[Erik Vale]

Analgor [Combat]

Analgor growls. He knows that something might be coming from the lift but he has to kill the current threat. and clicks in quick succession wanting to try and end this quickly.
And a single guard is... No great loss.

However, all the shots miss.

[Grailkeeper]

Raising his flamer higher Broderick sought to combat the ice with flame. He fired the weapon down the tunnel after the alien.

OOC[roll0]

[LeSwordfish]

On-planet
"Sir, I say again..." the emissary begins, and is cut off abruptly as albrin's team one bursts into the bar through the main doors, dropping into position, guns fanned out to cover the room. Five men and a heavy bolter armed servitor.

"Don't move." Albrin shouts. "Weapons on the ground!"

As brass's team comply, stepping into the middle of the room and laying down their pistols, Skr'ivva clears her throat, waits a second for everyone's attention, and then clicks her fingers.

One by one, each of the men by the bar pulls out a heavy pistol from inside coats or jackets. The barman hefts a cut-down bolter from under the bar, and hurls Skr'ivva a heavy crossbow-style weapon, which she ***** menacingly and points directly at you.

"You have one more chance to leave this place." Skr'ivva says. "The deal is most definitely off."


Initiative
Skr'ivva [roll0]+8
Bar thugs[roll1]+3

Eli [roll2]+4
Ethan [roll3]+4
Albrin's men [roll4]+3
Servitor [roll5]+2

Emissary+thugs [roll6]+3

Emissary and thugs move to centre of room and lay down weapons. Skr'ivva readies and aims kroot bow at you. Albrin's team enter and aim at the bar thugs and emissary, skrivaa's thugs aim at albrin's team and you.