[Black Crusade] Crashing Down

[Gargulec]

Let us get back to the beginnings...

Let us find them first.

What was the first step? What was that little pebble that tumbles down a slope to unleash an avalanche? Where did it all start, how, why?

The moment you chose damnation because it seemed like the only right choice? The moment you earned enough favour and infamy in the eyes of the Ruinous Powers to be forever forbidden the path back to Imperium's embrace? Or maybe earlier still, the moment you were all born into the oppressive tyranny, bound to it? Was it inevitable? Decided upon that day?

What if the sources of heresy run even deeper? Maybe one should blame Horus, and his choice? Seek the reason back in that dark time of the greatest was Imperium had ever gotten through? War that in the eyes of many was not even over yet?

Is that even important? Dwelling on the past seldom helps with resolving the matters of today, and even more rarely does it bring any consolation in face of the days to come, even though the future is not any brighter than the horrors behind. Perhaps the wise choice, the wise answer to the query on origins would be to claim that they are long gone, and matter little, in spite having brought you to this place, this time, and this particular war.

No one really knows what current of Immaterium jettisoned Atanagoras' Marble within the Screaming Vortex, throwing it into a small pocket of calm amidst the roiling energies of the Warp. No one really knows because the same power that ripped it from some faraway corner of the galaxy also did infuse and transfigure it, slaying anything that could had lived on its surface. In fact, no one can be even sure that it used to be a planet once - certainly, some savants claim that the Marble was not changed by the Warp as much as created by it, and only by a freak chance or a design even freakier, it became abandoned in the real-space, outside of the realm it really belonged to.

After all, those scholars claim, even the Warp could not remake a once-living planet into a perfect sphere of translucent crystal sailing through the void alone, without the company of a star, a burning core of swirling energies blazing inside of it, never diminishing or guttering as if frozen into a moment. Indeed, it was easy to reason out the name of this peculiar place upon seeing it, for indeed, it looked almost like a glass marble rolling over the fabric of black, vibrant and pure.

It was impossible to make a landfall onto its crystalline surface - the fire within was not purely ornamental, and the power radiating outwards incinerated even the most resistant substances, turning them into fine ash that did not blemish the clarity of this peculiar space-gem. A once-powerful warlord committed a folly of attempting to extract that might, and was punished by it, as the fires of the planet tore his body and soul asunder - but in a way, he proved successful, for it was his name that baptized Atenagoras' Marble.

And yet, there were reasons aplenty to seek this place out, though even the safest passages leading to it were considered gravely perilous by the warp-sailor of the Screaming Vortex. The lure of the power inside of the crystalline core, the desire to witness the striking beauty of this work of Immaterium - and a visit upon the rusted decks of the Bloodied Lance, an Emperor-class cruiser locked in orbit above the Marble for as long as anyone could remember. The hull of the once-mighty ship bore scars beyond counting of savage void-battles, exposing its interior in a way similar to a gutted beast. Its plasma engines had gone silent and cold millenniums ago, and not a single trace, not a single mark had its original crew left, as if they had vanished, taking anything that could explain the origin of the vessel along with them. A rumour went among those who knew anything about the Marble that the Bloodied Lance had served during the times of Horus, participating in the bombardment of Luna in that glorious, dark time. But it was only an idle speculation, likely tracing back to the followers of Atenagoras who, after his ill-fortuned planet-fall, decided to take the wreck as their own, turning its still formidable structure as a home and a haven for their warband.

They did not last long. Without their ring-leader to hold them together, they soon succumbed to internal squabbles and vagaries of dwelling in such a secluded hermitage. Their remnants, now savage tribes of mutants without a hint of humanity to them, still stalked the most remote corners of the vessel, left alone by the current holders of it.

Augurs of the Marble. Four sorcerers, oracles, divinators and anthropomancers, brought together by their intent on using the powers of the Marble as a focusing lens for their far-sight, letting the iridescent flames inside of it stoke their natural talents high. They and their minions took the Bloodied Lance for themselves several centuries ago, and ever since, their reputation only grew, drawing in many who wanted to see what the future holds not in the dusty prophecies scribbled by half-mad sorcerers on smouldering parchment, but in the auguries cast by the four. Of course, a few attempted to usurp their powers or enslave them, but the Augurs proved to be formidable foes, and by tapping into the might of the Marble, they grew nigh-undebatable. Yet, to the surprise of many familiar with the workings of the Vortex, they did not seek to impose their own will on the others, seemingly content with sometimes summoning damned souls from all over the Vortex to their hidden holding, to reveal to them the glorious - or cursed - future. Such a calling was in equal parts an honour, a burden and a proof of the Ruinous Powers' interest - thus, it was hard to decline.

And, for the sake of the story, that is where the beginnings lie. In four summons to the planet of Kurse, to a small blockade-runner ship helmed by a gnarled man with warp-fire in his eyes, a ship that knew how to cross the most treacherous barriers of the Immaterium to emerge over the Marble and deliver the Heretics aboard to the Augurs who desired to see them.

In the beginning, you disembarked the blockade runners and entered one of the few sealed decks of the Bloodied Lance. Long braids of crimson rust twined through the hangar walls, profane icons nailed to them with an unerring precision and design - existing both as displays of devotion and protective wards in one. A breathable atmosphere was maintained, but stale and heavy on the lungs, with an iron taste to it. No one came out to greet you, but it was obvious that you were observed - the moment you laid you foot on the deck, a sense of presence descended onto you like a sticky filament.

In the dust of the deck, a path was blazed, leading deeper into the bowels of the vessel through a half-opened bulkhead ahead.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

The renegade Imperial Guard stormtrooper in fire-blackened heavy carapace armour displayed no unit patches or identifying marks of any kind. The double-headed Imperial aquila standard had been defaced ritualistically and painted over with matte black vehicle paint. He bore no obvious symbols of his devotion to the Ruinous Powers, if indeed such devotion even existed, but he did tend to run his gloved fingers over a spot on his breastplate every now and then as if to reassure himself something was still there, hanging from his neck underneath the beetle-black shell. He carried a plasma gun cradled in the crook of his right arm that glowed with a soft, azure light, his hand wrapped around the grip with his finger resting casually on the trigger guard. A bolt pistol sat secured in an animal-hide holster on his hip ready for a quick-draw. Most ornamental, however, was the exquisitely crafted chainsword that lay across his back for an overhand draw. Helmeted, he slowly panned glowing, red lenses over the scene as he walked, taking in his companions as well as the iconography on the walls.

If anyone had saw fit to come over to the table where the stormtrooper had been sitting, drinking amasec and scrawling in a heavy annotated guardsman tactics primer, they would have seen him unhelmeted. He looked relatively normal under the armor except for the bloodshot, red eyes. He had close-cropped, black hair, and was heavily scarred from the experience of war. If prompted, he introduced himself simply as "Jaeger, from nowhere important." He was pleasant enough, but tended toward a scowl and liked to curse so he fit in fine with all the degenerates and apostates he had surrounded himself with. He was rather quiet, actually, and tended to act rather than speak overmuch such as when he had slammed an overly aggravating cultist's head into the wall after said cultist had accused him of being the corpse-god's lapdog. He hadn't stopped until there was a bright red stain on that wall and the cultist's head was so much pulp. Then he'd righted his chair, put his feet up, and kept drinking.

Jaeger had given the chaos space marine(s) the most respect, deference, and consequently the most space unless they approached him first. Even now he gave the Black Legionnaire a wide berth, knowing the superhumans' reputation. He walked along, his well-cared for combat boots thumping across the rusting hull plates, and tried to act like he wasn't severely out of his element surrounded by all this sorcery.

[Retrokinesis]

Galivos

The Black Legionnaire strides out of the transport, crimson and gilt cloak trailing behind his immaculately-cared-for power armor, and reaches one hand up to remove his helmet. The face beneath could just as easily belong to a Hive noble as a superhuman warrior, all unblemished skin and perfectly-straight golden hair. An ornate bolt pistol, a long blade humming with power, and an ancient tome rest on his belt. The star of Chaos Undivided hangs from a golden chain around his neck and wreathes him in a field of faintly-glowing energy. Then he smiles an all-too-perfect smile and offers his other armored hand to anyone brave enough to take it.

"I am called Galivos, Librarian of the Black Legion and Disciple of the True Warmaster. I am most honored to make your acquaintances... " A Storm Trooper, a well-armed woman, and a Brother with no legion markings? Interesting. There is great power here, a child could feel that. We shall see what its masters intend towards us.

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos enters the derelict warship with measured stride, hesitating for a moment as he passes the threshold from the Blockade Runner serving as his transport into the venerable Bloodied Lance. As always, the sight of consecrations to the Chaos Gods fill him with momentary indecision and distain, products of old habits dying harder than he would have hoped. Fighting down the inconvenient emotions, Talos returns to his passage into the ship, ornamented Power Sword mag-locked to his back with the hilt over his right shoulder in case it needs to be drawn in battle. His other wargear, including his armour, is battered and mismatched, a horned Mk. V helm mingling with his Mk. VIII breastplate and scavenged gauntlets of indeterminate origin, which combines with the featureless Ceramite-grey of his armour to give him a stark air, though any Tech-adept would no doubt find it rather shabby.

When he encounters the three others called forth to this place, he does not follow suit in removing his helm, simply turning the faint red glow of his helmet-lenses on each in turn. Once gain he is forced to choke down loathing for the Black Legionnaire, reminding himself that treachery is not solely the purview of the Traitor Legions. In response to the Legionary, he grunts and responds. "You may call me Talos. First and only Lord of Ashes. I assume that you are here to answer a summons from the masters of this place." An easy guess, and a chance at learning the intentions of these others at no cost to himself. The Legionary is the obvious threat, should he seek to impede Talos' vengeance, but the Lord of Ashes has learned well that humans do not rise far in the service of the Dark Gods without being dangerous in their own right.

[DrakeRaids]

"Sup."

The pirate, for what else could you call one like her? Not a soldier, she didn't move like one. She had that air of command like an officer, but didn't have the discipline. She was no mere administrator though, that chainsword she had at her back, it was worn in all the subtle fashions that marked it well used, and the way her body was pulled taunt like a wire, well, it suggested that she knew how just how to use the weapon.

She was pretty as well, but in a sharp, weapon like manner, not something soft, but rather like a diamond, shimmering, it drew you in, but it could cut steel if it had to. Her clothing, was haphazard as well. She'd clearly been on the run for some time, and while she wasn't wearing tatters, the light armor she wore was piecemeal, and her clothing just slightly ragged. Little things.

Perhaps most dangerous though, was the bravado in her tone. It didn't display a lack of fear, or respect, but a lack of caring. She was... empty, like a vassal whose contents had been poured on the ground. There was nothing left in her to mark her, no hopes, no dreams, just a quiet, barely noticeable, slow burning rage under the surface, and a more obvious total disregard for her own life.

"I am called Shakisa." She said after a moments pause, and a shrug, she had just a hint of an accent of some strange, long left world. Her skin was dark, but not overly so. Perhaps, her heritage linked back to a desert world of some kind?

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

I just noticed that if you tip the screen back a little, my little avatar up there just becomes two glowing red eyes in the darkness. :smallcool:

"Jaeger Helstrom, from nowhere special." the stormtrooper introduced himself to those he had not already met on the ship, his red helmet lenses lingering on the pirate for a moment before switching back to the sorcerer. Deciding to be the one not to leave Galivos' left hanging, Jaeger took the Black Legionnaire's massive, gauntleted arm in something resembling a warrior's clasp, where each person takes hold of the others' wrist. However, with the sheer size of the chaos space marine, it was a bit difficult to accomplish; their relative arm sizes were like the difference between an adult and a small child. Still, you get points for trying in this sort of situation.

[Gargulec]

'And Augurs of the Marble welcome you, scattered souls' a light voice chimed in the air, delicate and high like the song of some exquisite bird, entirely out of place in this rough-hewn hangar hall. Footsteps of someone frail sounded on the other side of the entryway into the bowels of the ship.

From behind the bulkhead a woman - no, a girl - emerged, her stride marred by a limp on the right leg which an unadorned staff clutched in her small hands barely offset. A heavy robe weighted her down, drawing her into a slight hunch that - if not for her youthful face - would give her a seeming of a crone.

'We are glad that our summons were answered' she announced, tipping her head to you, a motion slightly exaggerated, as if she could not see where precisely you were standing. 'I am haruspex Catalina of the Augurs' she gaited closer, entering a beam of light cast by a sole illuminator still working, revealing a layer of crusted, dry blood covering her fingers and a large medallion of brass dangling from her neck, shaped into an easily recognizable form; a seal of Khorne. In some ways, that sign explained the equally oversized butcher's knife with serrated edge that stuck out from underneath the robe. 'We warn you: you hold potential. We warn you: you will be tested.'

Her stature and stance were both unassuming, and more she talked to you, the more certain you grew that she was in fact blind, or at least feinting blindness in a way only someone deeply familiar with living in the darkness could. And yet, it would be difficult at best to call her weak; the stench in the air would be nauseating if not for who you were, and she reveled in it. That ship was the dominion of the Augurs after all.

'Before we lead you to us, we order you: lay down your weapons' the girl commanded, her head still swaying.

[Retrokinesis]

The sorcerer gives the storm trooper a firm nod and a bright smile. It doesn't leave his face when he turns to the girl. "I am terribly sorry but that will not be occurring. There is no circumstance in which these weapons leave my possession. I would wager a guess that your other guests will answer similarly?". He raises a massive gauntleted hand and sweeps it towards her symbol of Khorne. "Surely, you understand".

Unless she is not truly a Khornate. A haruspex, the blood, the butcher knife... it would fit with the typical worship of Khorne but true divination requires psychic power. Khorne's opinion on the matter was known to be... rather backwards. Maybe these Augurs each served a different Chaos God?

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

"I'm having to agree with the Lord Legionnaire on this one." Helstrom said, reaching up to touch something underneath his carapace breastplate again as he hefted his plasma gun a little tighter. He never liked being disarmed, and avoided it when at all possible. As a follower of Khorne he'd thought that this girl would be like-minded on that subject. "You can't be afraid of any damage just the four of us would do, are you?" he challenged, half-tempted to just shoot her and find out.

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos grunts, taking in the whithered, twisted girl as she makes her entrance and her speeches, and observing the reactions of the rest. It seems that they are not keen to go into a stronghold of Chaos unarmed... Not unreasonable, if nothing else. Still, sometimes sacrifices must be made to achieve a worthy goal...

Finally he leans down to bring himself to something approximating level with the girl and states. "Show some respect, whelp. I had 'potential' before you were born, and it would be less than nothing to cut you down where you stand." Standing straight again, he draws his blade with a sweeping motion, almost seeming ready to cut her down... Before reversing his grip, triggering the weapon's Power Field and driving it six inches into the deckplate, then reaching back to the Bolter slung across his back and hanging it from the now firmly stuck sword's hilt. "These weapons remain here. The third is as much a part of my armour as my armour is of me. I will pass your test, and then you will give me what I want. If my blade has been so much as touched when I return, I will personally throw you from an airlock." Once again he leans down, soulless lenses glaring directly into the Augur's eyes. "Am I clear?"

[DrakeRaids]

The pirate on the other hand, perhaps due to her simple, after mentioned lack of caution and caring, was already beginning to undo her fine chainsword, and setting her pistol aside, then working to remove a handful of other sundry weapons. "Do you all fear these people so much, that you can only wager to enter armed and armored? Pftha." She chortled, if they wanted her dead they'd be welcome to try. Doing it like this seemed foolish though, when they could have been removed a multitude of ways before even entering this chamber.

"Girl! I understand your people can help me towards what I want. If you're not wasting my time, I'll walk in there naked as the day I was born if thats what it takes. If not, tell me ******* now so I can leave this looking glass without wasting more effort."

Ah, that was it. It wasn't that she didn't care about her life here, her problem was just slightly different, though some degree of self preservation was clearly lacking. Rather, something was driving her, to risk her life in such a manner.

Which of course, made sense. Why else would one such as she, be here?

[Gargulec]

The haruspex observed - somehow, even though as she came into the light, you could see that her eyes were removed, leaving gaping, dark-red wholes disfiguring her once-pretty face, left uncovered in some sort of an unspoken challenge, or a declaration made against the world. She observed - and then, she cackled.

It was an infuriatingly pleasant sound, her laughter, one that would fit words such as "velvet" or "silken". But a sneer nonetheless, ridicule aimed at those two who listened and who obeyed the order she gave.

'A slave once, a slave forever?' she asked Talos, bobbing her head at him as if disappointed. 'They say: once a dog, never a wolf. Know this... Space Marine' a title of reverence, a title of hatred. On her lips, an empty figure of speech, hollow and without meaning. 'You serve Chaos now, not some Corpse-God of Terra. You may obey NO-ONE!' she passed into a mighty bellow seamlessly, the thundering sound leaving her lungs as surely as the nightingale's jingle of her previous words. The echoes rang in the empty ship's halls, returning distorted and distant. 'Yes, Legionnaire, we understand and we expected nothing less. And yes, savage. We are not afraid. You may hold potential, but we faced mightier than you.'

She turned her attention to the pirate, and cackled again, her blood-covered hands opening and tightening.

'Bold words!' it was hard to tell whether this was ridicule or genuine commendation. 'Need no weapons to fight, do you! Lord of Skulls prizes those, who spill blood with only their unmailed hands! But if you need them not, then why bedeck yourself in them?' she asked, but without waiting for an answer, she turned away and started moving down the corridor, outside of the hanger and into the vessel proper. 'We shall lead you now.'

There was something dreary about the long passages the girl lead you into. Rust was omnipresent, devouring the ship from inside, filling the air with little motes of red and brown spiraling in the flickering light of the illuminators above. Thick layer of long-undisturbed dust littered the floor, the footprints clearly pressed into it - and at a small number at that. Few treaded those halls anymore. And yet, in the heavy atmosphere, it was hard for you to embrace the sensation of solitude. There seemed to be many more to the deserted ship than you could see, almost as if the specters of its crew still haunted the broken corridors.

Sometimes, the monotony of rusted plasteel was broken by the scorchmarks and dents left by munitions of various kinds and calibers. In others, scribblings were etched in the walls, names and inscriptions, and small tokens of devotion - many-pointed stars of Chaos among signs obscure and hard to recognize.

You emerged onto a catwalk suspended over a large, dark room. Perhaps a mess once, now as abandoned as the rest of the vessel, though hardly as lifeless - there was movement in the shadows, writhing and stumbling, of creatures that maybe had once been human.

'Greetings, aspirants' once again, a voice entirely out of place in this forsaken place sounded - different from Catalina's girlish jingle. Softer, more adult, calmer somehow - deeper. A voice of a woman grown, a mother.

There was a figure standing over the catwalk, barring you passage. A woman clad in a simple white robe, her beauty striking, a scythe held in her hands. She had hair of pure gold, skin as white as porcelain and a face betraying neither youth nor age.

'I am Oracle Thanata' she introduced herself, and you could fight off the feeling that it was a voice somehow familiar. You have heard it before, whispered - even if not to you. 'We are glad that you answered our summons. Before we lead you deeper still, we ask you to accept our kiss.'

She was without blemish, she and her weapon - only in seven placed did specks of rust and filth mar the surface of the blade she bore.

[Retrokinesis]

Galivos ponders that statement for quite a while before responding. It was obviously a test of some kind...

"Before I accept anything, great Oracle, I would ask what the nature of your kiss is. Is it the kiss of Khorne, cold steel on warm flesh? Perhaps Slaanesh, bringing pain and pleasure in equal measure? Nurgle's pestilential lips, so much like the cold kiss of death? Or maybe Tzeentch, unfettered psychic power? Answer this and perhaps I shall accept your gift".

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

Jaeger knew that one or the other, probably the pirate, would go right along with anything that the Oracle suggested just to get things over with. So he remained silent for the moment while the Black Legion Sorcerer's questions hung in the air between them. He'd wait and see what would happen before he made his own decision.

[DrakeRaids]

"A kiss? Weapons I understand even if its stupid, but what is this kiss?" She said, crossing her arms as she looked at the prettier woman with obvious suspicion. She wondered what it would be, what it would signfiy, but really, did it matter? She was damned anyway, who cared how far she would fall, as long as it would bring her to her goal? If chaos whim was to destroy her beforehand, then what else could be said. What occurred would occur. "Give it to me, and lead me deeper then."

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos' anger continues to build at the young Khornate woman's criticisms. Who is she to question his motives, to call him weak for rising to her challenge instead of hedging and prevaricating... For a moment he is almost prepared to raise his hand and put a Bolt through her skull in punishment for her audacity, but in the end he forces down his anger and simply whispers to her, his vox-grille still amplifying it to a muted boom. "Do not push me, worm. My patience is not limitless, and you know nothing of me." He raises his gauntleted right hand, finger pointing at her chest and Bolter at her face. "Do not think I will hesitate to send you to your God. He will welcome your blood as much as any other."

After the introduction of the second Augur he waits, observing the others' reaction to her demand. This Black Legionary seems to be well-versed in the lore of Chaos, much in contrast to Talos' own muted understanding of their ways. He would be a good one to follow where it is necessary to fake devotion to the Dark Gods. He simply stands and waits for an answer to the Legionary's questions, much like the renegade Stormtrooper.

[Gargulec]

The woman in white smiled at Galivos' question - not a wide grin, nor a smirk. Just an easy smile, thin but without sneer. As with everything of her, accepting.

The mutants roiled below - they were devouring one of their own, the sound of their feast reaching up to you. The Oracle looked down onto them, her eyes seeing through darkness, the smile still on her beautiful face.

'Come, then, boldest of four' she beckoned the pirate.

She towered over Shakisa, a head taller, so she had to climb on her toes to reach her lips. The oracle sunk a free hand into her hair, pressing herself closer - a gesture that easily could be sensual, full of passion, but it was too soft for a lover's embrace, too distant, too. Her fingers were cold and delicate, and the taste of the kiss bittersweet. But as it went on - even if it lasted for only a passing moment - the bitterness too eased, decayed, leaving only the maladious sweetness of rot in its wake. It was a plague's caress, traitorous in its pale beauty.

But then, it ended, and Thanata released the pirate, leaving her dizzy and slightly nauseous, but hale still and looking onto her like a grandmother would upon her maturing grand-children.

'There will be gifts given to you' she said lightly, taking back her hand.

Once again, she looked at the self-styled Librarian.

'And what kiss do you think I can grace you with?' she asked instead of answering.

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos stands impassive and watches the woman's kiss. A pointless exercise, one more needless delay in this endeavour. He had expected more of this place; nowhere here is the power to crush armies and topple tyrants. Looking down at the matronly Augur, he simply states. "Do whatever you must. I tire of games and trickery. Simply get this out of the way that we can proceed with more useful pursuits."

[DrakeRaids]

The Pirate staggered just slightly after the kiss was done, and wiped the traces of it from her lips quickly, eyes narrowed. Her breath was coming in quick pants, not from arousal, but a sense of danger just barely dodged, her entire body was tense and primed, fight or flight pumping through her as she moved away from the woman quickly. "Crazy Augurs." She muttered, not looking down at the demons, wanting only to be led deeper at last.

[Retrokinesis]

Galivos shakes his head at the others. Nurgle perhaps? Judging from the way the pirate reacted... "The gifts of the Ruinous Powers are never granted without cause. I have done your master no great service and I expect nothing from him, nor you. I must decline whatever it is that you offer".

The sorcerer's senses are all primed, natural and otherwise, for any hint of reaction from the Auger or her minions below.
Scrutiny test: [roll0] v. 33
Psyniscience test: [roll1] v. 33

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

"Kharnus the Bloody demands we take what we want, not submit to being gifted power. So allow me." the stormtrooper seemed to have had enough bantering back and forth, and took off his helmet -- revealing red, bloodshot eyes and closely shaven black hair. He marched up to the Oracle and grabbed her by the hair, rougher than she had with the pirate, and claimed a kiss as well. It wasn't sensual by any means, but rather almost violent in the way he pressed his lips to hers. It was if he might decide to bite her lower lip off when he was done.

[Gargulec]

To Galivos, the woman in white betrayed no emotion, the same serene expression on her face as he declined her gift. She stepped out of his way, letting him pass, and offered no response to his implied challenge. As far as he could tell, she not bothered nor surprised. It was just how the things are. He joined the pirate on the other side of the catwalk, in the pleasant, deep shadows.

She gave more attention to Talos, though, her smile widening a slightest bit upon hearing his own proclamation.

'What must be done, shall be done' she declared coolly. 'But in time, and in the end. What we do now is just a modest proposal, nothing more. We will do as you ask.'

Just like with the other marine, she allowed freed the way for him, not imposing her will on him. He too joined the three on other side, leaving Jaeger alone.

His bold words seemed to echo in the vast hall, return and distort. Thanata struck no protest against his advance, as he wrung the kiss from her, forcefully and violently. Maybe he saw some reaction in her eyes, a flicker of surprise or perhaps awe, but another sensation overcame him. The taste of ash on his lips, of stale blood and festering flesh. The taste of an old, decayed battlefield, combat unfurling over the soil tainted by the years of constant strife. A taste not that far from familiar. And more he took from her, more he pillaged from the Oracle, the more that taste filled his mouth and hazed his mind.

A cackle followed him as he finally released the woman - Catalina, passive before and just observing from the sidelines laughed loudly and earnestly, without a shred of mirth.

'Ask for nothing and take what you will!' she called to him, coming closer. 'That is the way fitting of the follower of the Blood God, by whatever name you know him.'

Yet, for all the praise, he could not get the taste off his mouth. It was left there, bitter and somehow sweet. The Oracle stepped of his path and let him and Catalina cross and join the others, not turning back.


Chronic Lunacy: Toughness -10 check please. On pass, gain a Corruption Point, on fail get a level of fatigue. And some disease to carry.


Long minutes of walking in silence followed. Catalina guided you through the corridors of the ship ably, even though the paths were often perilous - old machinery gone haywire bathing decks in motes of stray plasma, sections where you could almost hear the hiss of escaping atmosphere - but she allowed you no harm, though sometimes it felt as if she made you brush against those dangers on purpose, the joyless smile on her face going leagues to confirm that suspicion.

One sight in particular stood out. A vast hall, marked by damage of a high-power weapon, likely a lance battery strike, the whole gouged in hull patched only spottily with creaking plates of metal that could give in at any moment. Floor littered with wreckage and strewn with corpses, air dry and almost burning in the lungs, a strange musk hovering in it like a diseased vapour. And in the middle, a pillar half the hall's tall, and on the pillar, a man that was little more than mottled elderly skin wrapped over ancient bones, few silver hair forming a thin, long beard that hung down the pillar as if a banner. He sat with his legs crossed, exposed to all the dangers and all the rot of the ship, an expression of divine ecstasy painted across his gnarled face even as his body deteriorated outside of his mind.

'This one follows a fool's path' Catalina explained, breaking the long quiet. 'A coward's path.'

Neither she or he made you stop by the pillar and the ascetic upon it, instead following even deeper into the bowels of the ship, until finally a gate with a portal fashioned in the likeness of the four Ruinous Powers heralded you arrived at the sanctum of the ship.

The haruspex pushed the massive door open, and let you in.

There was a pillar in the middle, all covered with rusted scrawling in some daemonic script. There was an altar by it, a yellow lamp standing on it, flickering slowly. And there were etchings in the floor, on its entire length, profane and powerful.


Appropriate Forbidden Lore -20 test is required to read the etchings quickly (ie. without ignoring the Augurs for deciphering)


And little beyond it, and little beyond it was needed. Here, the Augurs had all the power they wanted.

Propped against the altar, a man lazily sat on the floor, his face one of a seasoned gambler, scruff and savvy. A brown jacket was on his shoulders, a laspistol tucked underneath it, adding up to the look of an underhive scum cheating at an illegal gambling house.

And he was playing dice with himself, a few simple cubes of what appeared to be plastic scattered before him. You arrived in the middle of his scooping them up back into the mug and throwing them back down, not really bothering with the results.

'Greetings' he called to you in a surprisingly casual tone, grabbing the dice again and standing up, then fishing up an lho-stick from a pocket and lighting it on the altar's lamp. 'I am Visionary of the Augurs. We are pleased to see that you arrived' he struck the hand out for a handshake. 'It was a bit of a wait, but ultimately, we think it should be worth it. But before we proceed... well, we need to ask you. Was there some hidden lesson in what you have seen?' he asked with a smirk, taking a drag from his smoke. 'Or many? Or none?'

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

When he was finished, the stormtrooper let the Oracle go, but it was not without a rather rough pull of her hair to remove her face from his first. He wiped his lips on the back of his glove and donned his helmet and facemask once again, though he looked a little paler now than he had. He stayed quiet the rest of the way, preferring to remain alone with his thoughts while taking in his surroundings.

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos walks confidently through the wreckage, stepping over or kicking aside any rubble blocking his path and soundly ignoring the poor quality of the atmosphere, barely enough to cause mild discomfort to an Astartes. The man and the pillar is of similarly little interest; what these fanatics do with themselves is pointless unless they can fight, and that wretch clearly could not...

Inside the Augurs' inner sanctum, Talos steadies himself for the touch of the Ruinous Powers... A touch he is surprised not to feel. The Lord of Ashes is more than used to the presence of Warpstuff by now, a guarantee for one travelling in the Warp Storm-riddled havens of Chaos, but this place holds none of the raw sorcerous energy he had expected. Or perhaps it is simply too subtle, too ordered, for one such as him to sense. He looks intently down at the dice-rolling man, taking in as many details as he can as quickly as he can, for this is clearly the leader of the Augurs, the one Talos had come to meet. Dismissing the man's physical presence as any sort of threat, it is clear that the man must be a powerful Sorceror to attain such a position of power, someone to be wary of if nothing else. Taking a rare opportunity to indulge in a joke, at least to himself, Talos takes the time to accept the Visionary's handshake, holding one massive gauntleted hand out for the gambler to shake, but waiting for the man to actually finish the process simply to see how he would react; it is, after all, all but impossible for a mere human to properly grasp the hand of a Power Armoured Astartes, and a grave risk of earning a crushed hand.

In response to the Augur's question, he grunts and states. "Three, at least. First, that you wish to see us to war. Which is well, for that is the path I tread. Second, that action is all that matters, both to the Materium and to the Dark Gods. Words are empty nothings, to be examined and discarded, and thoughts less than that. Third..." He pauses for a moment, considering the meetings along the way. "That even a Seer makes errors. You are not infallable." He provides reasons for none of it, allowing the others to work out how he arrived at these conclusions for themselves if they care to. "It may be you intended no message, or many more. It matters not. These are the truths made manifest today."

[Retrokinesis]

Galivos glances at the etchings on the floor quickly; perhaps they would shed some light on the nature of these Augers. He accepts the gambler's handshake freely, attempting not the crush the human's hand.

"Many things to many souls, I would imagine. To my guideless Brother, a set of challenges to be overcome. To the pirate, a series of obstacles to be beaten through. To the soldier, a distraction. And to myself? A test of my knowledge of the Ruinous Powers. I would imagine you had none, or all, of those in mind when you summoned us. Which brings us to the matter at hand quite nicely... "
Does Forbidden Lore (Psykers) work since they're Augers? If so... Forbidden Lore (Psylers):[roll0] v. 29

[DrakeRaids]

"Oh, me? I don't care. I don't care about the lessons, insofar as they give me the strength to murder the ever living **** out of the corpse gods lackies. I really don't. I want to get to that part already, and I'm getting tired of ******* around with augurs whose insist on wasting time speaking in goddamn riddles." The pirate snarled, losing her temper. She wasn't here to talk and be tested, she wasn't interested in that. She would do whatever it took to get to her goal, but this? She couldn't see how it helped.

[Gargulec]

The Augur tried his best to give the Space Marine a handshake, but as Talos predicted, it turned out to be a bit complicated for him, and in the end, he had to settle on shaking three of his fingers instead of entire, gloved hand.

'In this time' he smiled to him lightly, stepping back and nodding quickly to Catalina. The woman murmured something angrily and hurriedly left the sanctum. 'There are many who claim there is naught but war... in one form or another. But those are only words' his smile widened slightly. He seemed impressed. 'And words mean nothing, if you cannot back them up. Only weak are ever afraid of them. Your eyes are open, Marine, and your conviction is strong. That is the path to glory.'

For Galivos, the spirals of etching were making less and less sense as he stared at them; there were some sort of a script he had never seen before in his long service, and even as such, it felt as if it made no sense at all, as if placed there to toy with those arrogant enough to decipher them. Soon, they started to blur before his eyes, rendering all attempts of actually reading them entirely impossible.

And that lead to an epiphany, a sudden flare of understanding. Those marks were not intended to mean anything. They had no meaning, they were a cipher for cipher's sake - and that was their purpose. Creating paths that mislead minds into nowheres, in order to open them to greater pattens underpinning all of reality. They were a mean for the Augurs to lose their minds in the Now and stumble blindly into Tomorrow.

'And you would imagine correctly, Librarian' the Visionary turned to him, dice once again in his hands. He rolled them quickly on the altar's slab, the sound of them turning and falling strangely dry. 'We did not intend any tests, in fact, lessons. But it is a strange growth, the bramble of what occurs, and truths and challenges have a peculiar manner of being manifest. The true difficulty is to see them for what they are, tell them apart from events without meaning... but enough of that, you were invited for a reason.'

The doors to the blasphemous chapel once again screeched open, letting Catalina - not alone. The white-clad seer followed closely, dragging the final guest of the augurs.

A man in his thirties, tall and once grim-faced. Tatters of an Imperial Guard officer uniform were still easily recognizable on him, aquilae and skulls glinting in the pale light of the sanctum. An utter terror was clearly painted across his entire figure.

'Please' he yelped, begging without any hint of pride. 'Please, please... I will serve you... I will serve you... please don't...'

'Commissar' the Visionary greeted him with a smile and a polite bow, observing Catalina silence the man brutally. 'The only reason you ever existed was for you to die on this hour, for the greater glory of the Ruinous Powers.'

'Please, please, I beg... I will bow to your gods just please...' he was crying, actually, which prompted no reaction at all from the gathered Augurs, apart from Catalina who just smashed him in the face to make him quiet again.

'It seems that one of us four is missing still' the Visionary observed, ignoring the sobbing man, turning towards you. 'Would one of you mind to assist us in the ritual?'

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

A vibration went through the stormtrooper, like one had plucked the string on an instrument and sent pure, white-hot rage thrumming through his form. He drew the ornately crafted chainsword that he carried from its sheath, but didn't activate it as he strode quickly over to where the prisoner was being brought in. He didn't say anything before using the spiked grip and pommel of the weapon like a pair of brass knuckles to slam the Imperial across the jaw with a powerful right hook.

"Do you know where I got this, Commissar?" he asked, grabbing the man by the chin and forcing him to look at the toothy blade of the weapon. "I pulled it from the scabbard of a self-righteous dung-pile like you and slaughtered him with it. I can remember the sounds he made...like a stuck grox." he growled and pushed the man backward.

Jaeger turned to the Visionary with murder glowing in the eye lenses of his helmet. "If it involves butchering this mewling coward, I will assist you gladly. I have a special hatred in my heart for the Commissariat." he spat.

Mechanics: All-Out Attack (82):[roll0]
I'll let the GM roll damage since as not sure how much to roll since I'm not giving him the business end of the chainsword.

Also, spending that Infamy point to remove my fatigue.

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos smiles for a moment beneath his horned helm, impressed to some small degree with the seer in front of him. Unlike the other two, the Visionary seems to have both proper respect and the flexibility to see beyond their petty devotion to a God. Certainly, he seems less likely to try the Lord of Ashes' patience as they had. The moment of general satisfaction does not survive the entry of the black-coated prisoner, however, and upon seeing the wretch's pitiful pleas Talos snorts and turns aside. "A broken man, this. I wonder, will that make the Gods more pleased with his death, or less?" He waves the question away, making it clear he expects no answer. "You have your volunteer, Visionary, and an eager one at that. I am curious to see what you have gone to so much effort to show."

[DrakeRaids]

The pirate crossed her arms and watched, silently. His pleas fell on deaf ears though, instead her mind was somewhere else, flashing back to the sight that made her blood boil and her heart burn red. The source of her rage, not a scorched planet, not the billions dead, but a single face.

[Retrokinesis]

The cipher was fascinating. Galivos has to take some substantial effort to pull himself away and observe the spectacle in front him. "Hmm? Ah, a fine example of Imperial courage! Tell me, where is your Corpse God now? Why has he not delivered you from the grip of the Ruinous Powers? The feeling you are experiencing now; savor it. It is what all of the Imperium shall know in their hearts when their rotting bureaucracy is cast down".

He smiles and turns to Jaeger, "Please, continue. Do not allow me to delay you... " They are missing one of their number, hmm? And a sacrifice shall bring him forth? A daemon, perhaps?

[Gargulec]

Jaeger's blow smashed the man's jaw, rendering his pleas for mercy entirely intelligible - a few teeth fell out, too, mixed with blood and drool. Obviously, he screamed like a gutted grox, but thankfully no longer did he talk. There were tears in his eyes, even.

'This is actually interesting' the Visionary observed again, turning towards you and motioning at Catalina to proceed with the ceremony. 'The man that will serve us as the catalyst of the first far-seeing we offer you had not so long ago executed a number of alleged cowards in the regiment he was assigned to' he shook his head slowly, starting to fiddle with dice in his hands again, locking them betwixt his fingers and then swapping their places and order quickly and ably. It was a simple trick, though one that could earn a man a measure of respect in some dusky dice-house. 'His conduct is quite disappointing, having that in mind.'

To the sound of grunts and whines, the khornate woman grabbed the reeling Commissar by his shoulders and smashed him onto the altar's slap, a nasty crunch followed by another distorted cry of pain crowning the process. Apparently some important bone in his body snapped - spine, maybe? It would be oddly fitting. His sobbing became muffled, as if he was struggling to force his vocal chords to even such a paltry effort.

'We think that we should explain to you something' the Visionary remained perfectly deaf for the Imperial. 'The cloak of mystery we like to cloth ourselves into is useful for maintaining the mystique of our practices, but that is meant to obscure our ways from lesser than you. It is ours to try to gleam the futures from gut and blood, through means both arcane and mundane. And, guess what, as of late, we had a lot of you in our visions of the days to come. The Powers took an eye to you, and we do not know why. Thus, we called you in hope that a divination cast in your proximity will reveal to us the reason and the aim.'

'Or perhaps' chill of voice, until now quiet as death, Thanata interrupted, a vague sense of contempt palpable in her words. 'That is all a lie we have made up.'

'Yes' she was met with no objection. 'One way or another, what happens now is the death of this pathetic man and the beginning of our augury. Do the honors, Jaeger' he bowed slightly towards the man, smile not only on his lips, but also in his eyes.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

The stormtrooper revved the chainblade to provoke one last terrified whimper before going to work with obvious relish. With the sacrifice already helpless on the altar, he just swept straight down and cut him in half with a fountain of blood and gore. However, he didn't simply cut horizontally at the waist like most would. Instead, he started at the side of the neck and cut across to the opposite hip in order to spill his innards all over the marble slab. With a final slash he parted the head from the body in worship to the Blood God. The entire time he worked with grim, silent violence; his face set into a rictus of hatred behind the glowing, red lenses of his helmet.

He stepped away from the altar with his carapace armor and buzzing chainsword painted a bright, arterial red.

Not bothering to roll because I don't see the point.

[Gargulec]

As the man's inhuman scream faltered and died, his innards spilled, steaming and stinking, filling the chapel with the unmistakable stench of death, the coppery aroma of blood so pleasant to the Skull Lord.

Without delay, Catalina shifted forth, pushing Jaeger's aside and digging her stained hands into the filth, an insane grin distorting her already unsettling face. Cooling gore flew down, pooling on the sanctuary's floor and seeping into the cracks, the letters of the words of focus cast into the stone filling with red.

'The life of an unworthy' the haruspex intoned a screech, her voice grating metallic, as if a rusted blade was ground against stone. 'Let it flow, let it in the flow' she plunged her fingers deeper still into the guts, tearing and ripping into them with sickening crunching and splashing 'show us, show us...'

There were fragments of organs on her palms, little shards of splintered bones, skin and gore - and she smeared the filth over her face, a mask of a beast or a madwomen, or perhaps both.

'Show us, show us...' the screech lowered to a tingling growl, one guttural enough to send shivers down your spines. 'Show us...'

Silent as a specter, the Visionary neared her, and where he stepped, the blood bubbled in the cracks, becoming purple-dark, lustrous and otherworldly. The stench in the air changed, too, becoming more delicate, more aetheric, as if dispersed... as if a mist embraced it. A weight fell down upon your shoulders, a weight as immaterial as it was tangible. For a moment, the lines around blurred: the silhouettes of things and outlines of concepts alike. Past collapsed into present and presented melded into future. Real was cut from dream's flesh, and dream took on a form and function... In the distance, the wraithly screams that gave the Vortex its name were to be heard, desperate and sad...

Slowly, he landed his hands on her cheeks, forcing meeting her unseeing gaze.

'Show us the path, show us the way...' his raspy notes joined the growl, the voices mingling into one incantation.

'We see...' Catalina's words broke it abruptly, and she was speaking with clarity and anger. 'We see a path set... up and up, down and down, crashing down... fire and strife...

'Steps of the path are known to us...' the other Seer spoke after her, his voice the same - but free of spite, free of emotion. Careful and precise. 'Steps that will take you...'

'That will take you crashing down...' the woman finally released the sacrifice's entrails from her grip.

Something crackled in the air - and then things were again as they were supposed to be. Black once more was black, and white yet again was white. The reality reasserted itself.

'A ship of the Imperium's pathetic Inquisition was drawn into the Vortex by the will of the Ruinous Powers, and crashed on a barren rock known as Orosius' Rest the Visionary uttered, speaking quickly and purposefully, in a tone abiding no interruptions. 'In its cargo holds, a treasure awaits those bold enough to claim it. The treasure is a key, the treasure is the first step on your path to glory. The treasure must be brought here; such decree was revealed to us.'

[DaedalusMkV]

Underneath his impassive helm, Talos's face twists into a definite grin of triumph. He had considered this venture a long-shot to be certain, a last-ditch effort to find a good starting point for a war against the tyrants at the heart of the Imperium, but it would seem that it's paid off after all. His vox-amplified voice is rich with satisfaction as he speaks. "Yes... Perfect. An excellent beginning indeed. It seems the Dark Gods have delivered me exactly what I needed." His right gauntlet clenches into a fist, and he looks at each of the other three who were invited to this foreseeing in turn. "I go now to strike a blow against the hated Inquisition, and take their treasure from them. Will you go with me? I will fight this war alone, but I would not object to allies through the crusade, and if these seers are to be believed your fates are tied to this. I leave the decision to you." The rhetoric isn't necessarily what he would prefer to use, but Talos has never found the forces of Chaos to be motivated well by high ideal. Better to appeal to their greed for glory and destruction.

Returning his inscrutiable gaze to the Visionary, Talos states. "If you have spoken truth, seer, it will be done. The forces of the Inquisition will be crushed, and I will return with the prize if doing so will pave the way for my victory."

[Retrokinesis]

Galivos steeples his armored fingers and ponders the seers' words. "A treasure of the Inquisition, hmm? And the Chaos Gods have revealed it as the first step on my quest to crush the Corpse Emperor's rotting edifice? I would be a fool to refuse so generous an invitation".

He turns to face the Visionary and nods, "Tell me what you know of this treasure. What form does it take? There will surely be many objects of great power on an Inquisition wreck... "

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

The stormtrooper's chainsword still dripped with gore and hummed softly, the sound like the satisfied rumblings of a well-fed predator. He lifted it to his glowing eye lenses, examining the blade again, and then deftly flicked it to the side to clear the worst of the blood. The spatter joined the other sprays on the floor as he returned the now quiet weapon to its place. "If there'll be many more like this in need of killing, then I'm in." he volunteered.

[DrakeRaids]

"Our first step is to bring you treasure? I think I heard a con that started similarly once. Whatever. Spitting in the inquistions eye is its own reward anyway." She wondered, which inquisitor had been on the ship in the first place. It was likely to much to hope it was the bastard who had ended her life, and taken the world from her, but, well, she could hope. Hope and rage was what kept her warm at night.

[Gargulec]

'We are spoken to in images blurry' the Visionary replied. 'There is a treasure, and it is there for you to find; but what it is exactly, we do not know. You will know it, though. It will be well guarded. They will die for it, gladly, and will do all they can to stay it from your hands.'

Catalina cackled again, dryly and maliciously.

'And you will give them such a favour, aspring ones. Spill their blood, let it flow' she urged.

'But before you do so, there is a matter of establishing a way for you to reach the crash site. It is the will of the Ruinous Powers that you will strike a compact between each another and sanctify it in the blood spilled in the name of Chaos Undivided' he announced. 'And it is the true purpose of the summoning. You will set out united, a warband graced by fates.'

'But that demands a leader, an Anointed One' the haruspex added. 'And who will that be?'

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos looks at the oracles for a moment, then at each of the others. When none move to speak immediately, he takes the opportunity. "You ask a group that does not truly exist who is to lead it in the coming battles? Very well. I will. The others would certainly have spoken by now if they intended to take the role, and I doubt any would serve better in it than I." He raises his right gauntlet to his chest, fist clenched tight, the symbolism obvious. "I will ensure that we do not fail, no matter the cost. The Inquisition will be crushed, as they should be."

Looking at each of the other four aspirants in turn, he simply asks. "Do you object? If so, speak now. I will not tolerate challenges after this point."

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

"I have no interest in leading anybody." the stormtrooper said as he lovingly cleaned his chainblade with a dirty oilcloth. "What's more, I doubt either of the Lords space marines would take orders from a lowly turncoat." he shrugged and seemed to be checking the teeth on the chain of his weapon for chips and dents. "Just point me in the direction of the Imperials and let me go." he advised.

[Retrokinesis]

"I certainly have no objections, Brother". Galivos' tone isn't quite mocking but neither is it entirely sincere. "Provided, of course, you heed my counsel and stay true to the path of Chaos. As long as that remains true, I shall offer what guidance I may".

He turns to the rest of the party. "The Inquisition is perhaps the only true danger amongst the Corpse God's rotting Imperium. Their fanaticism is tempered by caution and we will not outnumber them. We must, then, out-think and overpower them. They will not expect the full wrath of the Chaos Gods that we represent".

The sorcerer had no doubt the treasure existed. It was also unlikely the visionaries intended it as a trap; it would be much simpler to ambush them here on their home ground. Still, he paranoid enough to expect a betrayal once they retrieved this unknown treasure. It remained to be seen whether his new companions were as forward-thinking...

[DrakeRaids]

"As long as our paths intersect I have no objection." If he proved to be unworthy of leading, she would immediately stop listening to him of course, but that went without saying. Out here, the strong ruled, the weak perished, that was simply how it went.

[DaedalusMkV]

"Good." Talos' acknowledgement of the others' acceptance is blunt and to the point. "Then we bring the fight to the Imperium. Visionary, you will provide the details of our destination, as many as possible. I assume that we will be able to take advantage of the vessel you pressed to bring us here?" He continues slowly, considering the best course of action. "Sorceror, I will be trusting in your knowledge, to find us a route to our destination and to identify our objective once it is within our grasp. I will not commit to a plan of attack until we know more of our foes, but time is of the essence. The sooner we strike, the less likelyhood that they have found a way to escape or call for aid. Pirate, you seem to know your way around ships. I will rely on your advice if it comes to void-warfare. We will strike hard and fast, for our greatest advantage lies in the initiative." His voice is hard, and the impassive mask of his helm gives away nothing. "I will not coddle you. Succeed and the glory will be yours. Fail and I will not shield you from the consequences. Unless there is anything else, let us be on our way."

[Gargulec]

'Marvelous' the Visionary looked at Talos, a smile playing on his rugged face. 'In the name of the Chaos Undivided, I name you the Anointed One' he gathered a bit of blood from the altar and smeared it on Talos' face (or helmet, if he was wearing one). It dried up almost instantly, and with a nasty, sulfuric stench, smouldered and evaporated, leaving behind a shadow of a trace - subtle enough that if one was not aware of his presence, he'd surely miss it.

'Go now!' the Haruspex commanded, giving into cackling once more. 'The compact is drawn! Go now!'


Compact time!
Scope: Undertaking.
Primary objective: Acquire the treasure in the crashed Imperial ship.
Secondary objectives: 1. Find means of transport to the crash site.
2. Defeat the crash survivors and take control of the wreck.
3. Breach through Inquisitorial hexagramatic wards protecting the ship.
4. Bring the treasure safely back to the Athenagoras' Marble.
Personal objectives: Players are free to come up with them for themselves. Post them officially or via PMs.



~Some time later~

Well within the ring of Gloaming Worlds, no more than a few days of travel from the 13th Station of Passage, a few of the more important trade routes of the Vortex crossed, over an unwelcoming, rocky world known as Zeton's Caravanserai's. Both the sorceror-kings of Q'Sal and tainted Magos of both forges of the Hollows often conducted business there, and a powerful warband of pirates and looters known as The Mirror Bulwark took it for its refuge and a haven, providing the world a measure of safety that few places in the Vortex could boast. Safety mostly enforced by the fact that the factions vying for control over the trade routes were too powerful to engage in an all-out war with each another, but safety still. Of course, that did not mean that weak were allowed to thrive in the crag-towns of the planet and space-stations above it, the opposite. Those who could not secure themselves an existence were made slaves or just killed, their bones serving to excellent armoursmiths that worked there, who enchanted their bone-knives with powerful wards and banes. But instead of the chaotic murders, this weeding was conducted officially, in the feast month of each year, known as the Decimation, during which the tenth of the least prosperous and most troublesome were sacrificed to the Ruinous Powers, strengthening the rest.

It was a cutthroat land, understandably, populated by people used to double-crossing each another at every opportunity, fully aware of the fact that those who were losing the race could just as well never see the chance to reverse their fortunes, thus giving the locals an odd sense of desperate courage when faced with their own failings, and a stubbornness that shot many of them to elevated positions in myriad warbands across the Vortex.

Incidentally, the Zeton's dwellers were also known to perceive most of the off-worlders as either stepping blocks in their own paths to glory or just souls not strengthened by the holy purging of Decimation, and thus an easy prey. Many an unsuspecting traveler or void-caravaner fell to the machinations that ran rampant both on the surface and in the cosmos above. However, if one was careful enough, foresightful enough and resourceful enough, about anything could be acquired there, from petty trinkets like las-weaponry and provisions of all kind to the great wonders of the kind that is seldom seen outside of legends.

A place as good as any to prepare for setting out against the hated Imperium.

The space station on which the newly-forged warband found itself on - an old, re-purposed orbital defence platform, dubbed Zeton's Feast in the memory of the great leader's gorging on the corpses and still living traitors who decided to abandon himself. The broken and tooth-marked bones of those fools were prominently displayed in many shrines across the entire station, and sometimes sold as good luck charms. Lucky few even managed to buy authentic ones, by some miracle.

Apart from the ship that brought them there - and promptly disappeared back into the Warp - a few other void-capable vessels were docked to Zeton's Feast, a few of them openly pirate in nature, while the remaining being a bit more coy and pretending to be trade-ships. However, given how their crews scattered over all the many attractions of the space-port the moment their leaders turned their attention from crews to conducting business, and failed to keep their mouths shut in the ale-houses, holo-theaters, fight-rings and bordellos they plagued, it was a commonly shared secret that not a single legitimate merchant docked. Hardly surprising.

Still, the aura on the station was mostly rowdy in these days, with drunkards and junkies everywhere, all kinds of camp-followers from shady tattoo artists and false prophets to just ordinary prostitutes flaunting their presence and living in a time of windfall. Dice rolled, cards were played, lives were lost - chaos reigned.

A place as good as any to start the preparations...


Okay, if someone wants to use Infamy to acquire stuff or trade, he's free to do so. Also, feel free to do whatever you think is appropriate. There is everything you might need on this station, within reason, so if there are any particular facilities you'd like to visit, just come up with them.

Free time for you before the action!

[Retrokinesis]

Galivos cared not for the bloody cullings of the Zeton's residents. The weak had a place, even if it was as slaves to the strong, and the Decimation was a waste of resources. Besides, he cared not for petty games of control and domination. True power, true mastery, was of the mind and the self. Which he was more than willing to demonstrate if anyone was foolish enough to challenge him.

"We shall have our pick of pirates and scum willing to provide us with transport, no doubt. The trick is to find one brash enough to ferry use to our destination intact but wise enough to know that betraying us is futile. A delicate balance, much like that between the Ruinous Powers themselves".

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

"We should just find and kill a ship captain and force the crew to work for us. This scum only respects strength." Helstrom suggested, idly looking around the starport with crimson lenses. If one wasn't careful, one could find an infinity of possible deaths in this place. One slip was all it could take, even for one of the lords Space Marine. "Maybe we'll get some good cannon fodder out of one of the larger ones..." he trailed off, crossing his arms, the tilt of his head giving away his pondering. Despite his apparent inattention, he still had a hand on his bolt pistol.

[Retrokinesis]

"There is, of course, something to be said for the direct approach. Do any of these ships strike your fancy? The crew is largely irrelevant and can be replaced easily, but a powerful vessel could go far in aiding our machinations... "

[DaedalusMkV]

Talos looks back and forth between Galivos and Jaeger for a moment. "Are you fully adept in the command and control of a voidship? I am not. I would prefer to maintain an... Intact crew, to maximize our combat potential. If we need to take a vessel by force, I expect it would be within our means, but I would rather relegate that to a last resort." He looks out the viewport, examining the ships arrayed around the makeshift starport, evaluating them as best he is able. "I would spread word that we seek a vessel to assault a vulnerable stronghold carrying great wealth, and with notable opportunity to win glory in the name of the Dark Gods. I expect these pirates would leap at such an opportunity, and it is not so far from the truth. Men will fight better for their own gain than they will at threat of death. If that fails, we can always force the matter. What say you?" Best to give them an opportunity to voice opinions now, rather than by means of betrayal later on.

He shows little concern for the theoretical dangers infesting the spaceport. While lesser men might be threatened by the treachery here, it is doubtful in the extreme that any of them are truly capable of harming a Power Armoured Astartes, much less two of them. Which is not to say he doesn't remain vigilant, for Space Marines rarely drop their guard in even the safest environment, but he pays no extraordinary mind to the drunken masses surrounding him.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/8330/owpi.jpg Jaeger Helstrom

"I'm not, no," Jaeger replied to Talos' probably rhetorical question, "but she might be." He thumbed a gloved hand at their very own pirate. "I say we let her do the choosing. I've only ever been on troopships, so I'd probably just choose the one with the biggest guns." he shrugged.