Crusading the Cluster - Black Crusade IC

[ArcturusV]

On Vara:

For long months, well, months to the warped time of the Daemon World, years in the materium proper, Vara has been in turmoil. The low rumbling of warbands and chaos worshipers in fighting amongst one another had turned into loud, open warfare. Betrayals were common place to the point where there were no trace of the original loyalties upon the planet anymore, any given cultist or champion changing their allegiances moment to moment as the tides of battle shifted.

The only stable point in this maelstrom has been the Factory-Stronghold of Magos Tilmar, who has kept his men under his control, and so far has not seen fit to take action in the general warfare going on other than supplying the various warbands with the weapons and tools they needed to fight, and making sure his own personal guard kept the best for themselves.

In this open brawling, the so called Ruler of Vara, sent out a call for those who might be interested in the rewards he can offer. The message has been vague, sent across the fallen worlds, and to the various chaos cults within the Argen Cluster. As the message travels it has been warped and twisted, by both the Immaterium and the nature of second hand informants, various promises made, and requesting everything from heavily armored warriors to cunning manipulators and technological mavericks.

The Magos's Factory-Stronghold is one of the few intact structures across the blasted, ruined landscape. As you draw up before it, for your meeting with Magos Tilmar, the sheer size and power of the structure is striking. Carefully poured Rockcrete, reinforced with armor plating around various defensive gun emplacements in the high walls. The gate is tall enough, and wide enough, that an armored regiment could pass through it 3 abreast quite comfortably, and fit a smaller titan through the archway. Those thick, metallic doors, seemingly made of rusted, pitted metal, were sealed shut tight. To either side of the main gate, were smaller gates, 10' high, 8' wide. The one to the right was open, and currently four large.... creatures... for there wasn't much else you could call them, stood guard over it. Taller and broader than even a terminator armored space marine, they seemed to be an unholy mass of twisted flesh and metal, roughly humanoid shaped, with fanged, twisted, mutated face exposed and staring ahead. Their forearm armor had heavy weapons attached to them, ones they seemed to be able to move around quite easily as if it were little more than a laspistol, heavy lascannons on two of them, heavy storm bolters on the other two. They didn't seem to pay too much attention to you as they stood there, not yet raising their weapons or making a move to block the gate.

[Revanus]

Alpharius examines the perimeter of the fortress, probing for weaknesses and hidden entry points.

A servant's door, a waste chute, a loading dock--any of these could serve to provide fatal chinks to break a siege and bring a fortification to its knees.

The easy route is the path to failure.

And yet, only the foolish start needless wars. Trust well-earned could be more deadly than a cyclonic warhead. Did not Horus teach the galaxy that lesson? Is such not the way of the Hydra?

The Hydra has no one way.

Alpharius finishes scanning the perimeter, and cautiously begins to approach the front gate.

His chamelioline cloak clings to his form, helping to shield him from prying eyes.

Awareness (to scan the perimeter):
[roll0] vs. 55 (45 Per +10 Heightened Senses [sight/sound])

Stealth (as part of movement):
[roll1] vs. 70 (50+20 camo)

[Revanus]

Failing to spot any more compelling alternatives, Alpharius continues to unobtrusively approach the front gate.

Unless he is stopped, he will continue through--as though entering the fortress was a routine affair for him.

[Glarx]

"Come, Kraskics. We don't want to make the Magos wait, they do tend to get touchy." The armoured form of Vivienne Verata stalked across the roads towards the forge-fortress, followed by the strangely disturbing fellow in ill-fitting guardsman armour. Her wings extended to either side of her, bony things without any flesh between the grasping fingers, and flexed now and again as she strode with purpose. The poor guardsman, with a backpack of promethium and a flamer strapped across his front, had to run on occasion to keep up with the greater movements of the power armour clad Vivienne. She surveyed the area, making use of her suit's autosenses to help to that effect. This was a wild world, and Tilmar seemed to be employing the political philosophy of the light touch. One might argue it isn't working, she thought snidely to herself.

As she reached the entrance, Vivienne paused for a moment -- a running Kraskics almost ran into her from the sudden cessation. Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she walked towards the gate, ignoring the four brutes on either side. Kraskics, knowing better than to question his mistress, simply bustled by as well.

The front of her armour was gleaming, a masterpiece from a forge of a bygone era. It had platinum and gold inlay, with a large pink gem in between her breasts that seemed to catch the light just right, regardless of how one looked at it. The armour had a pair of wicked looking claws at the end, nothing like lightning claws -- just twisted fingers that looked ready to go for the eyes. So thin was the suit -- indeed, it clung to her like a second skin -- that one could be forgiven for thinking they were simply Vivienne's fingers.

At her left hip was a small case, a satchel of sorts. No larger than four inches by six inches, it was made of a fine leather. Which beast provided the leather? Indeterminate. But it certainly looked pretty. That was a hallmark of Vivienne's -- she tended to look pretty, at least while she had all her armour on.

Up ahead, Vivienne could see a man walking by the guard-monstrosities beneath a cameleoline cloak. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about him, though. He was probably just a servant of the Magos' who was playing a prank on the guards.

If no one attempted to stop her from passing, she would proceed towards the forge-fortress's entrance proper.

[roll0] v. 60 for Awareness

[Col.Straken]

Athine stalked out of her transport, a goddess of war made flesh, a black chest plate covered her body and a pleated leather skirt protected the top of her legs. Knee high leather wrappings kept her shins from harm while her arms and shoulders were left bare, showing her pale, flawless skin. Four disks were interlinked at her waist creating what appeared to be another layer of protection, cross on her back, handles sitting above her shoulders were her Chainsword and axe. Her black hair was cut to shoulder length and pulled back into a short spikey ponytail leaving the eight pointed star carved into her forehead on show.

Forsaken Throne I despise fortresses she thinks to herself as she makes her way forward ignoring the weapons just as they ignore her. Athine keeps her hands by her side, palms facing forward to show she doesn't have slaughter on her mind.

[ArcturusV]

Alpharius:

As you scan the walls, this place looks quite imposing, a wide variety of weapons, in complementary arcs covering the approaches to the place. It is geared up for a heavy siege, bent to take on armies who came against it, more so than individuals. A lack of guards on patrol, as there seemed not to be any beyond the four creatures near the doorway you approached, might suggest at a weakness for a small, individual strike team, perhaps combined with teleportation to bypass the walls, if not sapping them with demolition charges.

The brutes didn't even twitch as you passed through the gate, opening up into a grand hall.

Vivienne:

The brutes shifted slightly as you passed. It looked for a moment like one was about to raise a storm bolter, that arm coming up just a few inches before it lowered back down. They kept their eyes on you until the moment you passed through the door, their gaze returning forward.

Athine:

As you approached the fortress you noticed the strange.... creature... who just entered before you, along with what seems to be her simpering bodyguard of some sort. Hardly looking all that impressive considering the 'guards' they just passed. But he was still openly armed with his flamer. You saw one of them start to go for the bolt to the face, a momentary impulse that was soon set aside. When you pass between them, you don't even notice that much of a response, either your show of contrition helping or that they just did it behind your back. At the very least there's no explosive pain from a half dozen bolter rounds crashing into the back of your skull.

All:

The Grand Hall, long, impressive work of stone and metal, stretching forward far enough that in the dim light it seemed to just go on for infinity. Works of art, there really wasn't anything else you could call them, lined both sides of the Grand Hall, alcoves modeling armor modifications or high quality weapons on strangely realistic looking dummies, posed in moments of terror and desperate fighting. A human stark raving mad hip firing a strange looking solid projectile heavy weapon, a marine kneeling down and sighting some distant target with a missile launcher, his stance speaking of shaking and unsteady nerves. More and more examples along this went by, everything from feral humans armed with exquisitely crafted blades, to Terminator Armored marines bearing thunder hammers and shields.

It was nearly 500 meters down the Grand Hall that the first doorways appear, mingled in with the pattern of alcoves, started to appear. Heavy, tall, reinforced portals that were big enough to comfortably fit those large brutes from outside the gate. One to the left opened up with a heavy squeal of metal on metal, light flooding into the Grand Hall from this side passage. A small figure, about 5'2" tall, stick thin, you doubted he'd hit over 100 lbs soaking wet, was hunched over. Dressed in almost gaudily bright blue robes, he clutched a data-slate nervously between his fingers, avoiding eye contact with the nondescript marine, the mutated queen of blades, her left hand man, or the warrior-princess. "Yes, yes? You here for offer yes? Bold champions? We been waiting. You are yes? Yes, course you are. No one approach Iron Fortress otherwise. You alive, you here. You must be! Yes!" He nodded furiously at his conclusion, "You come yes? Lots of questions? Wait... wait... you want the boss, right? Course. Course you do. Boss is close. You need guide? No... no... you strong right? Smart? No need guide perhaps?"

[Glarx]

Vivienne took in the sights, keeping her head still and moving her eyes around the HUD of the helmet. It was quite an interesting display. When she arrived with Kraskics to the strange blue man, she watched him meander through Low Gothic for a few moments. Quite the excitable little man. She reached up and removed her helmet, attaching it to the other side of her hip by maglock, and shook the warped hair our from the confines of the armour. Vivienne smiled down at the man, then looked to either side of her at her two new comrades.

"As a matter of fact, I would prefer a guide. That won't be a problem, will it? And remind me, what's your name, little churchmouse?"

[Kaynebot]

Mort stalked towards the gate of the fortress. Fully clad in terminator armor, standing taller than a Chaos Space Marine. His armor was a bloated white color with hints of corruptive green spread throughout. The green was laced throughout going for a plague marine style armor. And top off the Terminator armor was Mort's large twisted blighted horn coming through the headpiece. On his back was his Mort's huge personalized power scythe and on his side was, hanging was his combi-bolter.

Scuttling behind Mort's stomping trod was Giblets, Mort's specialized butler of sorts. Giblets himself was a deformed, disgusting humanoid. He looked as if he crawled out a bubbling pool of pus, disease, and bile, so to Mort he looked liked someone Nurgle would like. Besides a few moldy, rotting rags the only thing Giblets had on him was his own sickly green scythe.

"Let's be on our way Giblets. We 'ave some fun to spread." Mort's voice boomed out, in a deep hearty slang laced with joy that would be extremely off putting for a marine. Mort ended the sentence with a nice cheeky smile that would have been obvious had it not been for the terminator helmet. Giblets replied with his own twisted smile before the two stomped off towards the gates.

Obviously being late for the party, he walked loudly through the halls, trying to make faster pace than usual but his 'larger' body type making that difficult. Seeing others at the end talking, he calls out a deep base voice "I didn't miss anything did I?" Again the jolly attitude seeping through the slightly disturbing bass voice.

[ChaoticSky]

A misshapen creature of writhing green liquid metal lumbered towards the fortress of the Magos, valguely feminine in shape, with a hunched back and lumpy misshapen form. Its gait was slow and casual, in no hurry and not at all intimidated by the towering edifice before it.

As the creature approached the main doors of the fortress, the liquid metal crawled away from its face and head, revealing a woman; with pale, smooth features, dominated by shimmering green eyes, and long dark hair. Clair grinned as she reached the sealed doors, and held out a hand, the metal crawling back to uncover the limb, as she ran her bare fingers over the pitted metal. She turned and made her way towards the man-gate with the guards around it, her eyes halfclosed as she walked, her hand dancing on the surface, as if making a mental map of every pit and flake, every dent and imperfection, a soft smile on her lips.

When she reached the guarded door she inclined her head to the hulking guards, “Hello boys, hope you dont mind if i let myself in~” she asked, a mote of humour in her voice, before walking past them and into the fortress. Inside, Clair found herself standing behind a large space marine, whos aesthetic was clearly that of her patron. Grinning, the Heretek followed behind the Astartes, his follower probably noticed her but she lifted a finger to her lips for silence and winked. She followed him the length of the chamber, wandering to and fro to look at the various pieces on display, particularly those with rare and exotic weapons, but easily keeping up with the Terminator's slow stride.

When she reached the statue of the Terminator with a Thunder hammer she halted, reaching back to the large hump on the back of her armour, which like it had with her face, pulled back. This time it exposed a handle, which she gripped and pulled forth, revealing a hammer of her own, this one wrough of darkened silver with a head of slate-grey stone, a mote of emerald light flickering within its hidden mechanisms. If anyone was watching, they would notice that without the hammer the 'hump' on her back had shrunk to the size of a small backpack, and it was likely that all the shapes the broke up her otherwise human figure were in fact various pieces of gear she had stashed under her.... suit.

She compared hers to the one the marine was holding, though he held his in one hand as terminators tended do to. After a moment, she grinned, “Mines Better.” she gushed to the statue. That vital task completed, she hurred forward, having fallen behind, and arrived at the others at the same time as the large terminator she was stalking, and she casually assumed a position opposite his follower, pretending to be just another minion... atleased until he noticed... or admitted to noticing.

[Revanus]

Alpharius listens and watches as the new arrivals straggle in.

Alpharius makes room for the newcomers, putting distance between himself and the Plague Marine.

Though Alpharius' armor is environmentally sealed, not standing next to the infested seems prudent.

He allows the woman with the strange hair to ask for help. Alpharius remains impassive during the exchange.

Give no indication of a flaw or gap in knowledge.

He then proceeds to carefully study each of the new arrivals, in turn.

Rolls:

Alpharius is looking to glean useful information based on careful study. Presumably he can see everyone--but the goal is to try to glean insight about each of the companions (e.g. for Vivienne-- is Vivienne's armor/gem distinctive of Slaanesh worship, what sort of power armor is she wearing, does she have any distinctive weapons on her, is her hair a distinctive mutation/gift, etc.).

If these rolls aren't allowed, ignore them :). I just find its easier to make more rolls in pbp and have them not count rather than to check for rule clarifications, due to the delayed nature of pbp.

Awareness--hearing (for Clair's comment):
[roll0] vs. 65 (45 base +10 heightened hearing +10 auto senses [autosenses stack with chaos marine abilities]

Awareness--visual (Vivienne+companion):
[roll1] vs. 65

Awareness--visual (Mort+companion):
[roll2] vs. 65

Awareness--visual (Athine):
[roll3] vs. 65

Awareness--visual (Clair):
[roll4] vs. 65

[Col.Straken]

Athine walks the length of the hall looking at each of the "statues" pausing by any which wield a weapon of interest to her. Beyond that she took note of every door, and hallway, quickly forming attack patterns in her mind and quickly dismissing them again for being unsuitable, whoever built this place knew how to prevent an assault.

As she waited with the three who had arrived before her, listening to the diminutive child infront of her she ran her right hand over the handle of her chainsword Soon, we shall have the blood of the traitors running from their bodies. Athine watched as three more appeared all clearly corrupted by disease, and she listened as the woman with unnatural hair asked for a guide Well at least they are not foolish enough to believe they can navigate this place alone.

Nodding she smiled though it appeared more of a wicked grin "Lead on child, I am eager to hear what would require six others to assist me."

[watupwithdat]

It would appear that Moraiik wasn't the only one who had come here in search of whatever rewards that could be offered — though it was unclear what exactly those were. The sorcerer was assuming, perhaps hoping, that they were of arcane nature.

He was unsure who the others had been, but he had been covering the way up to the massive fortress in a more leisurely pace. At the same time his bird familiar, one of the razorwing species converted for the purpose, had gotten a birds-eye view of the area — a view Moraiik had recieved through the psyber-lure inplanted in the creature. The place had looked more intimidating from foot, he thought.

As he was to step through the tall archway the razorwing landed on the sorcerer's shoulder, as to not stay outside. Interestingly, Moraiik had never bothered to give the creature a name, as he didn't see the purpose of it. He had no need to address it. Though he had sometimes noticed that others he had spent time as companions with had.

It seemed like he was the last of the pack, and he actually sped up his walking speed a little going through the long hallways, the tapping sound of his staff increasing in frequency, with his long black and dark greyish robes swaying in the still air.

[ArcturusV]

"Guide? Problem? No. No no no. Guide, I am here to guide," the man nodded, bobbing his head vigorously. He fiddled with the data entry on his slate for a moment, seeming to take notes on each person in order, staring first at Vivienne, then her little left hand man, and down the line until he had recorded something about the approaching psyker.

"Missed? No. No. Nothing missed. Just in time. Come, come, more to see, more to find out," he turned on his heels, leading back to the door that he had stepped out of. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure that the visitors were following him, "Stay close, do not stray, Iron Fortress not safe for wandering, yes? Yes. Close is safe." He flashed them a large, toothy grin.

The corridor he lead you down was fairly sparse, lacking even the decor of the men and weapons that had lined the great hall. Iron walls, lined with small protrusions every 6 inches, along the floor, the walls and the ceiling. Each about an inch and a half in diameter, only raised a quarter of an inch from the surface. The corridor was gently turning to the right, deeper into the fortress, so that there wasn't a straight shot available farther than 20 meters.

"You have questions, yes?" the man asked as he lead on.

[Col.Straken]

Athine followed, though she laughed slightly at the mention of the fortress not being safe. "Nowhere is safe, that doesn't mean that the strong wont survive" and a wicked grin crossed her lips. She ran her fingers over the small bumps as she passed and considered the corridor, perfect for close quarters fighting. "Indulge me, what are these bumps, laser defence grid or toxin emitters?"

[Kaynebot]

Mort stomped after the guide, not really being able to be inconspicuous or quiet in a group of people. He was used to it though, and truth be told he liked the feeling of being....bigger than everyone else. Oddly enough the small protrusions on the wall made Mort's mind wonder more than the any logical questions of the up and coming meeting. "Uh sir...I..I...I think there's...." Giblets trying to inform Mort of the odd lady-like figure following them.

"Shush Giblets. I am thinking." He replied not harshly, just a little sternly. A moment of pause in which another lady asks the same question he was going to ask. "Yes! Yes! Indulge me to. What are those dent-y things? Mort asked puzzled, and intrigued.

[Revanus]

Alpharius calmly follows along, allowing himself to drift towards the tail end of the group.

He eyes the woman in the short leather skirt, armed to the teeth with blades.

This one puts too much faith in the value of strength alone. Paths to victory are as numerous as the heads of the Hydra.

Her blunt manner and simple thinking were mildly irksome. Yet, as Alpharius knew well, strategy could be taught.

As the group continues on, Alpharius merely listens--content to let the others ask his questions.

[ArcturusV]

He looked over his shoulder at Mort and Athine, blinking slowly as his steps faltered. He paused, looking to the wall, then back to the warriors, and back again. He opened his mouth, and paused for three seconds before shutting it. Once more he tried to speak, but no words came out. Finally, he shrugged, "... I don't know. Messy though, last time, very messy... smell lingered for weeks. Wouldn't get clean." He shrugged again, and turned to keep walking.

[Kaynebot]

Had it not been for the helmet again Mort's face would have shown a childishly curious and confused face at the vague answer. Mort thought for a second before speaking his mind. "Giblets go.....nevermind...Yea don't do that Giblets. Mort stuttered for a second before deciding his idea was a bad one. Deciding on a course of action Mort asked "What 'appened 'ere last time?" He feigned innocence in his jolly voice again.

[Col.Straken]

Athine shrugged "It's always messy."

[ArcturusV]

"Oh? Something, yes, big feathery slimy things with blood dripping lobster claws. Smelled bad." He lead on, and the hall split in two, one continuing on the same gentle curve, but angling upwards at about 7 degrees. The other quickly turned backwards, curving in the direction that you came from quite sharply, a set of stairs spiraling downwards, and oddly lacking the protrusions of the hall you were currently in. "No. Never go there. Bad times. No. Very bad." he said, cutting them off as he stood to block the way down, waving them along the path they were currently on. "Boss up ahead. Ready for boss? Got gifts for boss? Should have gifts. Boss likes gifts. Yes. Warboss Utari bring holy toaster from Rial. What you bring him?"

[Revanus]

Alpharius cooly turns his gaze upon the addled minion.

"I was under the impression my gift was already well received."

Deceive:
[roll0] vs. 61 (41+20)

[Glarx]

Vivienne had remained silent during their trek, committing the layout to memory. It was certainly interesting, the design. Although it seemed to have conventional tactics in mind in its construction... she ran a claw through the spines that made up her hair, rustling them almost musically. Questions were asked, answers were... well, not given. The little monster seemed too unsettled to answer questions effectively. But then the unremarkable man said something unremarkable, and Vivienne turned her eyes away from him. She took a moment to look back at the little group, noting the vividly-green-eyed woman following the terminator, the little creature following the terminator, the terminator, the woman with the star carved in her head... what a sight!

"I have a feeling you're a decoy," Vivienne remarked softly, returning her gaze to the little man. "Obfuscating stupidity. But on a serious note, what sort of host invites someone to his abode and then demands gifts?"

[ChaoticSky]

"Someone who wants lots of gifts? Maybe theres another bunch coming tomorrow with more Presents for the Present Throne." Clair suggested with abject innocence. Given that this could well signal her presence to the large marine shed been tailing, she would smile and wave if he noticed her. "Ooh, maybe there will be a dead tree! Wouldnt that be nice?"

Turning her attention on the little guide she tapped her lip and pondered the matter for a moment, "Well, I could give him a most wonderful disease... but people are distressingly unthankful to be infected with a lethal plague. Besides, its not ready yet. Something half-done wont impress Grandfather. What do you think? Will your master like a new strain of the Flu?"

[watupwithdat]

The oddness of the guide had at first slightly annoyed Moraiik, but then he remembered why he was here. And besides, this did seem like an odd gathering in any case. Some of them looked downright dangerous to trifle with, others not so much. For now he held his tongue. Too likely he'd insult someone for whatever reason. There were a lot of them rattling around in his head at the moment.

As they walked the long curve, which obviously was a deathtrap for intruders, the sorcerer eyed the various travellers with him, wondering whose blood might be taste the most to his satisfaction. It was an odd thing to do, admittedly, but he just couldn't help himself. It wasn't that he particularly liked inbibing blood, just that he sometimes craved it. Perhaps even needed it. Though sometimes it did taste really nice.

[Col.Straken]

Athine shrugged again at the mention of gifts "I shall provide the only gift I have of worth that I will part with before I die if I judge our host to be worthy. I do not make habit of offering everything I own to every person I meet, if I did, I would be either very poor or dead, likely both."

Athine cared little for any of the others, they were there to assist in whatever task they were given. Athine was no fool, she knew that while she was capable of detailed conversation she had not the talent to deceive as some, or inspire as others. She had some skill in healing, and armouring, but only in passing. Her talents lay in killing, and she doubted most could match her in that here, perhaps the walking rotting tank, but he is likely slow and she could easily outmaneuver him. Perhaps the rest are hiding their skills, but she let it leave her mind, she had more important matters at hand.

[Kaynebot]

Mort turrned his body when he heard the women speak behind him. Seeing her right behind him surprised him. Connecting Giblets earlier protest with her right now he leans in towards her overshadowing her in his armor. "Who might you be?" The others he could care less with but she seemed different. Still staring at her he speaks to the guide "Why yes! Diseases are great gifts. He can have Giblets arm, I'm sure he has plenty of plagues and such on that."

[Glarx]

"I have a very small notion that Magos Tilmer may interpret the 'gift' of plagues as a biological attack," Vivienne mentioned offhandedly, still looking at the servant-guide. "As for presents for the present throne -- that sounds like a precarious throne to sit upon. Although I suppose that depends both on the box the present is held in and the contents within." She gave a little smile at the thought -- the voice that had suggested the notion was cute. A little obsessed with diseases, but that was Nurgle's shtick. His followers tended to follow suit.

[ArcturusV]

As soon as they were all past the offending staircase he scurried forward ahead of them again, seeming to pant even as he ran up the incline, struggling to keep his heart rate under control and his breathing steady. "Gifts... gifts... yes..." he tried to catch his breath, but it didn't seem to be going well. It wasn't that the incline was necessarily that hard, as long as you were fit, he just seemed ill used to climbing it and perhaps in poor shape in general, perhaps is size had less to do with youth and more to do with malnourishment and a lack of proper exercise?

"You must have sent the Damos Bolt Pistol, right? ... Yes... Must be... Good gift... cute..." he huffed and puffed, at this point you guessed you had to be about 60 feet above ground level, and the curve was tightening to the path, limiting the engagement range to just 5 meters now, the incline steadily steepening to the point where it was no longer an easy walk. The small guide was scrambling, at the point where his hands were starting to come into play as the grade started passing 25 degrees, and a soft light appeared up ahead, suggesting an end to the journey.

The little man scrambled up, hitting a landing at the point where the incline was the steepest. He was panting hard, hands on his knees, doubled over as he looked back down at the guests, it would be a tight, but not impossible fit for the man in the terminator armor, and perhaps a bit humiliating as he had to contort to fit that final gap. The little man stood aside as the guests entered the chamber of Magos Tilmar...

It was... perhaps not the impressive audience chamber that one might have expected. The walls held various plaques, mounted with odd technological baubles, or strange examples of living matter. A well crafted las pistol, spent bolter casings, something that looked like the horn of a Slaaneshi steed, half of a cogitive implant ripped out of some tech priest. None of it seemed particularly valuable, except for a few extraordinarily crafted weapons, but the weapons themselves were generally common, a las pistol, a slug throwing revolver, and hardly the high power, rare trophies one would figure. Even the biological samples tended more towards 'junk', even including a bit of Triax hide from Abnathi, rather than some rare beast's snarling visage. The place was furnished more like a bedroom than an office, a bed along one wall, big dressers along the wall behind the small guide. A low table filled with data slates, and hand written scrolls scattered about haphazardly, the ceiling an open window, exposing the warp storm filled sky of Vara, which provided the pale purplish light that shined through the room. The Magos, the Lord of Vara, was dressed in simple, dark red robes, made of soft, shimmering fabric. It looked more like sleep wear than official dress. He didn't seem to have a weapon upon him, but a swarm of 8 mechadendrites, fitted with small tools writhed from behind his back, seemingly with a mind of their own.

"Reggie... why are you here?" his voice was almost musical, low, lilting, and sounding like he spoke to fit some hidden harmony, completely devoid of mechanical buzzing. In fact he didn't seem to have much in the way of Mechanics to him for a Tech Priest of any sort. Other than the mechadendrite the only sign of metal upon his body was his left eye, a very finely, almost human seeming cybernetic eye. That eye only betrayed it's nature due to the mechanical precision with which it moved... independent of his natural eye. While his natural eye focused on the so called "Reggie", his artificial eye followed the strangers as they entered his chambers, just barely big enough to fit them all on one side without uncomfortable overcrowding... if someone dropped a frag grenade in here, there's little doubt it'd shred everyone.

"... the petitioners, my lord!" Reggie answered, bowing down deeply and inching clearer.

"... oh... that... yes... I suppose that is important..." he straightened his robes, stood tall, and faced them with some semblance of official bearing despite the surroundings. He cleared his throat loudly, "I trust you all know why you are here, right? The message was very explicit."

[Revanus]

Alpharius inclines his head in a gesture of respect to the Magos, before addressing him.

"Honored Magos, even the most explicit of messages have the tendency to get corrupted as they are diffused through the general public. As it is said, "Few are the com channels that are free of static."

Indeed, I have heard five different tales from five different lips, all swearing under the duress of torture that their version was the certain truth.

One claimed you seek valiant warriors for a glory-filled campaign. Another claimed you desired the wisest and most artful of individuals for a quest of galactic importance. One swore by his life that you wished to see the head of Allistair Delos himself laid bare at your feet.

There were but two constancies in each of the five tales. All claimed you sought the most highly skilled servants of chaos. And all claimed you would reward such skilled individuals with both treasure and great favor."

[Glarx]

Vivienne took in the sights, cataloging the gifts he had mounted while the nondescript marine mentioned various possibilities. She'd not been summoned directly, though. There wasn't a message she was familiar with. "You have a problem, and you're looking for solutions that can't be tied directly back to you," she said, tapping the wicked claw against her chin. A little bead of blood formed where the tip hit her flesh. "The instability of Vara is nothing new, but there must be some reason you haven't come in to intervene in the stupidity of those raiders and ravagers outside. They weaken our cause with their infighting. You will have deduced that already, which means there's a reason you haven't stepped in to deal with it.

"So either you don't care about conquering the whole of the sector -- a possibility, although unlikely -- or you have some other reason for not intervening. You've put out the call for remarkable individuals, which indicates that you're taking steps towards some end goal now. Could it be you wish to stop the fighting without weakening your own faction? Maintain the manpower of your private faction while pitting the sorts of people who would assume leadership of the drivel outside against one another?

"Or perhaps, as... I don't know his name, but as he--," Vivienne nodded jinglingly towards Alpharius, spines shifting into each other, "-- just mentioned, it could be that you require something off-world. Again, you need it done without depleting your own resources. By getting people like us off of Vara, you deprive the seething mass of Chaos outside of any catalysts who might change the swirling mob into a directed flood. And if we actually get the job done? It's a win win situation for you. If we die, you win since you've got less people to potentially worry about on Vara. If we don't die, you win since we'll have completed the task you set before us. If we never come back, it's the same as us dying.

"And of course, you can send multiple teams at your leisure towards whatever goal you're seeking, especially if your primary goal isn't the accomplishment of whatever task you have in mind, but the cutting of the tallest poppy." She shrugged and removed her claw from her chin, letting the bead run down and fall against her armour. "Just speculation, though."

[ArcturusV]

"... interesting... a mind more geared for politics and planning than the usual thugs who seek my favor." Magos Tilmar walked over to his table, taking a seat on the edge of it, his manner very informal, right ankle crossed over his left, leaning back with his hands on the table, just barely sitting on the edge of it, his feet still touching the floor.

"I have my goals, of course. I think we all do. Be it some little marvel of sorcery or technology, or some burning desire... or just a really good slice of caramel cheesecake..." he cracked a little smile at that and gave it a shrug, "Doesn't rightly matter. You're still a few pay grades from being privy to my personal goals, whatever they may be. But you've proved yourselves able... you wouldn't be here otherwise."

He looked over his right shoulder momentarily, turning away from the gathered people, his mechadendrites were coming out of a hole in the back of his robes, cut precisely to fit them and not an iota more. He pulled a data slate, and almost carelessly tossed it out towards the group, letting whoever was quick on the uptake catch it, it wasn't exactly thrown hard and lazily spun through the air in such a way even the clumsiest could get it (Read: Whoever feels like grabbing it and posts first). It was a cheap little data slate, the kind that normally would be used for the storage of just a single bit of data, lacking any complex inputs or controls. In this case it was a flickering clip of something, footage captured by someone who wasn't exactly the most stable of pict recorder operators, faint gibbering being more of a dull noise in the background than clear words, in part due to the voice speaking, thick with accent and barely above a whisper, and in part due to the poor quality of the recording.

The loop, barely 12 seconds of footage, focused on one obvious object. It was hard to guess at it's scale, lacking familiar land marks or any sort of measure to compare it to, but there was a sense of mass to it. It had clearly seen better days, partially buried in the blasted, cursed ground. A vehicle of some sort, sleek, curved, colored a dark, deep purple, four heavy mounts on top of it, weapon launchers of some sort most likely. The bunker the thing was in had been in poor condition, bombed, blasted, burned, looking as war torn as the rest of Vara's landscape was... but the vehicle inside was nearly pristine, without obvious marking upon it.

"... that... is what has stirred up the warbands. They trip over themselves to claim possession of it, either in desire to turn it to their own cause, or thinking to curry favor with me. It's been an interesting diversion... but the melee has gone on too long. I don't care how, I don't care why, I don't care except for it being soon... you find a way to either destroy it and bring me the STC for that beast... or you bring me the beast. Clearly no one on this world can be trusted for the competence this task requires... a few of my prior agents have been lured away by promises of little petty warbands. I trust as outsiders you can keep your eye on the prize. Or die." he shrugged at that, "Rather you not. Seem like nice enough fellows." he cracked a little smile, and there was just the brief flash of madness to his eyes, "Simple enough for people of your talents. Any questions?"

[Glarx]

Vivienne caught the dataslate and glanced at it, holding it at arm's length in case anyone else cared to look at it as well. "Why do you presume it's technology of the Imperium?" she asked, handing it to someone after the twelve second loop had played twice. "I'm not altogether familiar with Imperial technology on the whole, but this color doesn't fit with the weapons of war I've seen on the Corpse-God's side."

[ArcturusV]

"I don't," he answered simply, "This world was colonized by men long before the rise of the False God. It comes from the Age of Technology, before the ignorance of the Imperium, I am certain. And thus it has value to someone like myself, who has the skills to truly understand it, and turn it's use to our cause. The rabble out there would be lucky not to blow themselves up, as much as truly unleash it's potential."

[Glarx]

The mutated woman nodded knowingly, clicking her teeth together in thought. "So, stop the squabble on Vara by removing the prize and giving it to you -- simultaneously strengthening you by giving you a new toy to use against those who might oppose you, and also giving you the respect of the warbands. After all, if they're fighting for this device, then whosoever possesses it would be the rightful victor. Well, whoever possesses it and can hold it, I suppose. So they'll view you as their rightful leader yet again, which solidifies your hold on the planet." Vivienne grinned and shrugged. "Do you know where we can start looking for this thing?"

[ArcturusV]

"That, my divine repomen, is part of the problem," the Magos replied, "Originally it was found near the southern pole of the planet, near the ruins of 36-B. Since its, discovery, however, there have been many reports of where it may have been moved to, who currently has it in their hands, and what may have happened to the bunker where it was found. I believe..." he looked over his desk once more, shuffling through the paper scrolls, until he seemingly found the one he was looking for, his finger pacing along the words as he read, "Ah, yes, here... last reports have it either in the hands of Warband Utari... who are keeping it near their fortified city in the equatorial belt, have destroyed the bunker with demolition charges, and destroyed any trace of the device's origins... OR it's in the hands of Warband Reikan... who has holed up in the bunker, fortifying it while they are flying in off world members of the Dark Mechanicus to help decipher it and reawaken the machine spirits... Or there is is a grand melee going on between Warband Highwind and Warband Therat over the machine, trading hands near the shattered plains of Ithal..." he shook his head. "It does go on like that... though those do seem to be the top three. Weak minds in the madness out there are having difficulty separating the truth from the rumor, every petty thug with high ambitions is spreading rumors about who has it, if not themselves, trying to rally the gullible and feeble to their side."

[Col.Straken]

Athine listens to the rumours and considers them all, "There is one last possibility, no-one has it and are still skirmishing over the bunker while trying to distract. Unless you have proof otherwise." she considers more, trying to recall her time fighting within the Guard. "Another is the the person who truly is in control of the device has kept a low profile, with it in a discreet location, waiting for their rivals to weaken each other fighting over rumours and suggestions."

She looks around at the gathered, "Looking around, I cannot believe we are greatly suited to rumour hunting, our skills lie closer to slaughter, and possible intimidation. Do you have other groups that could be spread about to disprove some rumours?"

[watupwithdat]

With how the conversation had started, Moraiik was surprised they managed to get to the point as quickly as they had. Though he was less interested in the matter than he had hoped. It was no artifact of the arcane, nor something that fascinated him much. Sure, great vehicles of old make was impressive — but not in the right kind of way. He'd much rather some old and powerful daemon was bound to the vehicle. Now that would have fascinated the sorcerer. For a moment he considered the possibility of actually binding one to it, but it was likely a task too daunting to attempt. Especially under these circumstances and without a small cult of lesser psykers at his command.

"Does the vehicle function?" Moraiik asked simply, not expecting any good answer considering everything they had heard so far was based on rumours.

[ArcturusV]

"Oh, I believe greatly in the duplication of effort... and the healthy motivation of rivalry... You didn't think you were my only petitioners on this matter? Already there are agents out there, a few select teams who are scouring for the prize... quite a few of them on the same trail as you, some on different trails. I don't mind how you do it... go burn down every possible location if you wish, kill them all. Be as blunt as you want, as long as you do what I want. Methods are entirely up to you, I don't care if you end up purging nearly every soul off this world and dedicating it to your patrons.... long as I get what I want."

He smiled, a crooked, cold smile at the gathered heretics, "My team last reported that it seemed to be in good condition, and should be fit for at least minimal activity, particularly if the Machine Spirit can be awoken, or a suitable work around found."

[Glarx]

"And to be clear: what you want is for us to either bring you the machine, or to destroy it and bring you the template such that you can recreate it?" Vivienne took a moment to look at the psyker -- well, she was just guessing, but by the Gods did he look the part -- who asked the remarkably utilitarian question of whether or not it functioned. That was respectable. She hadn't thought to care about whether or not it worked -- that sort of consideration was small compared to finding the damn thing -- but it wasn't just a valid concern, it might as well be the only concern.

"We'll need to fetch supplies. I didn't bring my war-stomping boots." She wanted to suggest leaving, but the others might have questions -- but sooner or later, they'd need to leave and begin planning. Collecting supplies, determining the best course of action... and gathering information from Tilmar now was a great idea. A pity he seemed stingy with the information he had on the matter.

[ArcturusV]

The Magos nodded at Vivienne, his right hand rubbing along his thigh as he did so, "Find and retrieve... or if you can't, destroy it and bring me the STC information, any available."

[Col.Straken]

Athine nods, she knows they have probably got all the information they are going to get out of the Magos. "Well if that is all we should start. An old friend of mine used to say 'If you start at the beginning you will likely find the end.'" she shrugs "Can't say he was the sharpest tool, but it still holds truth. I say we start at the bunker it was discovered, surely something like that must have left tracks, even if it has been carried."

[Revanus]

Alpharius takes in the others, again.

The woman in the power armor bleeds from a self-inflicted wound on her chin, yet takes no notice.

Perhaps she enjoys the sensation of pain...

Meanwhile, the woman in leathers is all too eager to wet her blade in blood, while the girl near the plague marine seems to share his fetish for disease.

Things were starting to click into place.

"Some of us are more suited for hunting rumors than others, it would seem. Nevertheless, I agree with the notion of starting at the bunker. It will allow us to evaluate the claim of Warband Reikan, who have the most to gain from such a discovery of archeotech."

He turns to the Magos.

"Honored Magos--your interest in the matter is clear. The terms of our service and nature of remuneration, however, remain unsettled. Additionally, should an accord be struck, there remains the issue of provisioning: transport, equipment, and mission-specific armaments..."

[ArcturusV]

The Magos arched an eyebrow at the oddly nondescript plague marine in his terminator armor. "Surely you're not suggesting that you aren't capable of handling this with your own assets, and are dependent on my favor to accomplish such a straight forward, simple task?" That smile was still on his face, his voice light and bordering on mocking as he took in the heretics before him, "Or that you question my favor, and the value of it as a reward for competent tools."

[Revanus]

Alpharius chooses not to answer, allowing the question of the Magos to echo in the chamber.

A simple task that has left numerous other parties in disarray. The favor of a man who cannot quell the war bands under his nominal rule. The rewards of a tech priest who collects junk.

In silence, there is truth...

Deceive roll (to appear harmless):
[roll0] vs. 81

OOC: (Alpharius isn't a plague marine. :smallbiggrin:)

[Revanus]

Fate reroll:
[roll0] vs. 81

[Revanus]

"No. That is not what I was suggesting. In any event, your terms are clear."

Deceive Roll (was it what he was suggesting? Let's see!):
[roll0] vs. 61

[ArcturusV]

The Magos nodded solemnly at Alpharius, a slight frown on his face, a thoughtful gesture rather than one of displeasure it seemed. "Good... good... then you have your task." He flicked the back of his fingers at them, shooing them off, "Go... go... I have much to do and little time to do it with. I hear Warlord Seth is bringing me a genuine pecan pie..."

He smiled at them, "Well? Go. Audience is over. Do hurry before you run into something unsavory. I figure you have...." he paused, mulling it over, "10 minutes to escape."

It had taken you about 15 to walk in, granted, you were following the short man and his short strides and lack of general hustle. But for a mere human it might still be something of a close call.

"Time keeps on slipping..."

He leaned forward, spinning around once, arms wide as he headed back to the bed, "Slipping... slipping..."

He flashed his teeth back at the heretics, "Oh... and do watch out for Utari's messengers... they're lurking outside... somewhere... They have an odd habit of treating people who had an audience with me about this to the heavy end of a power fist... The test starts now."

[Kaynebot]

Oh Gods Mort that as he began to lumber his way out believing what the Magos said. Its not like you can go very fast in terminator armor. "Well folks, looks like we best leave. "

[Glarx]

The little guardsman holstered his flamer and held out his arms, allowing Vivienne to pick him up and put him on her back, in between her wings. He seemed to shrink slightly, taking up the space of perhaps a child -- exacerbating the ill-fitted nature of his armour. Vivienne cracked her neck and grinned at the magos. "Enjoy the pie," she said before turning and sprinting out of the room.

[Revanus]

Wordlessly, Alpharius turns to exit, striding out of the room faster than a human might run--almost as though he had an escape route memorized from the minute he had entered the chambers.

As he crosses the threshold, Alpharius throws his voice to resemble that of the Magos himself. It is not a perfect facsimile, lifted from mere holovids studied months prior, but it will do for the moment.

"Rest easy, Magos. The Alpha Legion is hard to kill."

Assuming his exit is uneventful, Alpharius will wait for the rest of the group a bit outside of the fortress exit.


Stealth:
[roll0] vs. 70 (50+20 for camo cloak)

Awareness:
[roll1] vs. 65 (45 +heightened/auto senses)

[ChaoticSky]

Clair sketched a little bow for the large marine, “My name is Clair Familia, once and future Archmagos of Forge Familia. Its nice to meet you, what might your name be?” she replied, answering his question and asking one in kind.

She followed the others up the inclined steps and into the meeting, listened and saw, and decided to hold her council. Quite frankly, she could think of something shed rather do with the engine, but the priority was in finding the thing first. The Heretek took the opportunity to viewi the video precisely with a eye to remembering all the details, trusting her perfected memory and technical acumen.

And with that, the 'interview was over, and she pouted alittle.... shed have liked to stay for the pie, but he probably wasnt planning on sharing it. Her armour swarmed back up over her face and hands, fully protecting her once more, and with her hammer in her hands, she turned and preceded the heavy terminator out of the room. She didnt out pace him, merely moved in front of him, clearly intent on protecting his limbering self rather than escaping as fast as possible.

[ChaoticSky]

For spotting!
30(Per) -20(Untrained) +20(embedded Auspex) = 30
one reroll, and can 'see' the full scanning range of a asupex, to see through walls 50cm thick or less and things that are otherwise invisible, via thermal, life signs, etc, out to 50m range.

Awareness: [roll0] Vs 30
Reroll if fail: [roll1] Vs 30

[Kaynebot]

Back in the hall when Mort was asked his name by this little....Clair he snorted in an amused manner, surprised at the way she answered. "Name's Mort the Plague Spreader, puny Archmagot" Purposely substituting the 'os' for 'ot' on the end of her name. He wasn't necessarily trying to be demeaning or mean but he thought it was appropriate for her.

Then on his way it almost felt demeaning the way she didn't try and fly out the door like that creepy women in the power armor. "Come on Giblets keep up, we can't 'ave you blown to bits now can we?" He laughs after his comment, something about his little buddy blown to bits seems funny to Mort....maybe its the name?

[Glarx]

Kraskics placed Vivienne's helmet back on her as she ran, allowing her to access her autosenses. She scanned the area as she backtracked, taking the precise same steps in reverse as had been taken on the way up. Plans swirled in her skull, and she tabulated a list of things to potentially obtain. She'd also need to contact the ship and have it come to collect the group. A stop by Vara's sprawling markets -- no doubt flush with new lucre from the war being waged -- and then they could head out to find this trinket. The Compact could be finalized on board her ship. Unless they weren't comfortable coming aboard... the thought made the corners of Vivienne's mouth curl upwards.

[roll0] v. 60 for Awareness. It's the hip new thing everyone's doing, so I might as well get a roll down. :smallbiggrin:

Now watch as I receive a natural 100!

[watupwithdat]

The last bit of conversation, if one could call it that, wasn't very informative — much like the rest had been, but atleast he knew more now than before. That some kind of danger, most likely involving all the strange protrusions in the corridors leading up, was slightly annoying and insulting though. Moraiik had a slight urge to turn the Magos into cinders at that moment, but he managed to hold back the urge and instead turn to escape the place. He had no interest in dying here — he didn't care if it was serious or not. He rarely took such chances if he had an option.

[Col.Straken]

Athine waited for others to leave, while she didn't doubt the Magos' claims she didn't want him to think she cared. What is scarier than a warrior that does not fear death? One that has lost a loved one, and I hold both true. she thought to herself as she turned to leave. She easily kept pace with the hulking plague terminator, and walked beside him for a moment, she could always run the last distance but she did not care to run blindly in a fortress full of traps.

"Are you prepared to make swift exit if there is need? Or will you pray to your god to protect?" she asked with no particular malice, though there was no warmth to her question either.

[Kaynebot]

A retinue of humans walking with him, great He thought still lumbering his way to the exit. Death is apart life. Why would I stoop to pray for my life when death is inevitable? He asked this question with the last time he almost died in mind. He wasn't really comfortable with his pace either but there is not much he could do. He was going as fast as he could.

[Col.Straken]

Athine nodded and smiled, one containing genuine happiness "A man of my own thoughts. I once prayed, for two lives to be spared, the Throne cursed Emperor did not see fit to answer. I have not bent knee since."

She did not move from his side, and walked in silence for a moment. "If you require any aid, do not hesitate to ask. I would... Be disappointed at your loss." With that said she lengthened her stride slightly, but didn't move more than a few metres ahead, easily within earshot.

[ArcturusV]

Vivienne just flew through the corridor, unnatural grace and speed leading her to quickly outpacing people as she went down that strange area with the countless millions of protrusions. First one out, even outpacing the Space Marine Alpharius, nearly thrice as fast as him, even while carrying the little misshapen midget on her shoulders. As she came to the end of the corridor, her senses picked up the faint scraping noises, and the barest hint of a shadow at the end of the corridor suggestion someone, or something, was there, and a bit more ambulatory than the displays of the Alcoves. Apparently, as she detected the presence lurking for her, they discovered her approach, as someone spoke a soft warning, and the sound of weapons being drawn from maglocks and readied for action came to her...

[Glarx]

Vivienne considered her options for a moment before darting back up the ramp, putting the curvature of the central spire between herself and the prospective assailants. "Ready your weapon, Kraskics," she murmured softly, crouching down and preparing to lunge on anyone who might attempt to come up the spiral. "We'll wait for the others. Fighting seems more their milieu, anyhow." The little minion nodded and pulled out his flamer, flicking a rune to ignite the pilot light.

[Revanus]

Alpharius calmly continues down his way. There was no virtue in blundering forward into combat--distance and range have virtues all their own.

As he walks along the hall, he enables his built-in Comm Leach. It was a useful tool, strong enough to tap into any live vox signals and data transmissions. In the heart of the Magos' fortress, Alpharius expected the tool to pick up both bits of the Magos' own communications, as well as any chatter from a potential ambushing party.

Information is power...

[Kaynebot]

Mort lumbering down the hallway still, the warrior-lady's talk of the Corpse-God made him laugh. "Ha! That failure. He is dead and belongs to Nurgle. He failed life's trials. Death should come to him as it does to everyone else." Mort said this with a certain venomous manner that gave the impression that he has contemplated that issue before. Mort flexed his fingers at the thought of ending the Corpse God's life himself. After all where there is life there Must be death he thought with a smile.

[ArcturusV]

A voice called out from around the bend in front of Vivienne, "Come on out little bootlicker... make this one nice and easy... we won't mess up that pretty little face..." the voice was loud, boisterous, and mocking. But so far nothing was shooting at the Childslayer, or her little buddy with the flamer.

The comm traffic Alpharius picked up was... surprising... perhaps. There was no call of tac-squads, combat reports, status checks. No people drawing up plans over comms. There was however someone doing what sounded like announcements. A weather report "... cloudy with a 90% chance of warp storms..." another announcement "... today serving Triax Chili and Flatbread in the commissary..." someone who was probably appropriating their comms for something unapproved as a Slaaneshi Metal Band was jamming out over one frequency, and two people gabbing about what sounded like who was lusting over Miss March.

(1 round down... 6 to go before Alpharius hits the scene for Vivienne due to her backing up and him not picking up the pace)

[Glarx]

"You underestimate me, cur." She cracked her neck and grinned. "Come and chase me, and I'll rip out your entrails and feast upon them as an offering to the Lord of Delight. I'll put the nozzle of a flamer into your ruined eyesocket and roast your brain in promethium. So come on, boys -- chase after me, show me that you're interested!"

[roll0] v. TN 85 for Intimidate, accounting for the -20 Modifier for their obvious advantage. Although it could also be a +10, given their weaker social status...? :smalltongue:

[Revanus]

Alpharius continues on his way down the hall. The comm leach chatter doesn't indicate any particular threats. That being said, only amateurs don't know to stay off the comms before an ambush.

Alpharius keeps up his standard pace--unhurried and unafraid, but ever vigilant.

Awareness (hearing):
[roll0] vs. 65

[ArcturusV]

As your threat echoed down the hallway the answer from... whoever they are... came. A round object, about the size of a brick hitting the wall with a metallic impact, ricocheting off, and coming right for Vivienne and Kraskin. Someone, with a sense of humor seemingly, wrote "Rocking Your World" on the size of the yellow canister as it came to a halt at her feet... A warcry, of "Into the Fray, Into GLORY!" being bellowed out, by three distinct voices you can make out as heavy boots start to storm towards you, three marines, in full armor, power fists and legion bolt pistols in hand as the canister detonated in light and furious sound, one of which you noted appeared a bit more hesitant than his fellows, lingering a step behind them.

Suffice to say, Alpharius heard the warcry, and the explosion as the Stun Grenade went off.

[Col.Straken]

As Athine walked the hall, keeping the walking tank within eyesight she heard a dull thud from infront. Having spent many years in the guard, she knew this sound almost instant, some form of grenade, the hall had caused it to echo almost amplifying the sound. "Hurry up hulk, I hear explosions, I believe the Magos has left us a welcoming party."

With a savage grin she unsheaths her chainsword and chainaxe as she sets off at a sprint. Legs pumping as she powers down the hallway, sword and axe trailing behind her.

[Glarx]

The grenade exploded into a three meter radius of stunning power, but it didn't find Vivienne -- the woman had leaped backwards, frowning underneath her helmet. How remarkably rude, she thought to herself as she took in the sight of three heavily armed (almost absurdly so) Traitor Legionnaires. Wasting no time, she turned and fled right back up the ramp. This is not my milieu at all.

[Revanus]

Continuing down the hallway, Alpharius casually pulls out his plasma pistol and draws his power sword--activating the flickering blade.

The battle-cry echoing across the stone walls was unmistakably amplified by power armor.

He then decides to pick up his pace to combat speed. His companions were unfamiliar and untrusted, but letting them die unnecessarily would be a waste of good resources. Especially since the woman who'd dashed ahead seemed like such a spirited servant of the Dark Prince. Her gratitude might be...useful.

[Kaynebot]

The marching felt continuous and never ending. The explosion though surprised him and then to see the warrior-lady run made Mort extremely jealous. He'd love to swing around the scythe in Grandfather's name. He felt his energy actually start to rise, a fight would be fun. Gathering his voice and lungful full of air he bellows out as loud as he can "You Putrid Maggots! I'll slit your throat and your guts! Then you can wallow in your blood and stomach acid! Ha! Ha!" Mort finishes feeling just a little better, if only he could go faster.


Intimidate :) Str: 50+30(Terminator?)+10(Disturbing Voice): 90? [roll0]

You can disregard this if its doesn't really apply realistically I just wanted to roll some dice.

[watupwithdat]

He hadn't gotten that far running at a somewhat quick speed for his usual self, but Moraiik was way ahead of the slow-moving Terminator-clad marine of Father Nurgle he was pretty sure though. Hearing a fairly low boom coming from ahead made him a little concerned as well as curious. Was it some kind of ambush in addition to the threat of lingering in these strange corridors?

With a thought the razorwing which had up until now been flying within sight of its master suddenly shot away like a projectile to find out what they'd find further toward the exit of the corridor and fortress. As soon as the familiar could see what was happening, so would Moraiik, which would allow him to formulate a plan of approach or, more likely, attack.

With the Razorwing's 48m per round run speed it should probably pass the Alpha quickly and be with the Queen before the Alpha I'd recon.

[ChaoticSky]

Clair continued to move with the terminator marine and began humming merily as they went, almost skipping, and either brazenly or obliviously disregarding the potential danger entirely. To her mind, she was with others, strangers who circumstance had made her allies... and that was certainly better off than she had been when she arrived, so all things considered, she was finally making progress towards her aims once more. "Nurgle stands at the end of every road." she commented, adding her input to the conversation between the plague marine and the other woman, "So why fret? Hurrying will just get us there faster. Better to stop and smell the corpses~"

That said, the boom from further down the way visibly rattled her armour, causing the crawling things in the surface to jump and scatter around, like a pack of startled cockroaches. Clair herself missed a step and almost went tumbling down, but she caught her self at the last moment and pouted; "See what rushing gets you? Someone probably just got splatted all over the walls, that could have been me."

[Revanus]

A frontal assault would be too easy.

Alpharius examines the long and narrow hallway in front of him. An ambush would have a greater psychological and tactical impact on the enemy than a mindless rush into combat.

At worst, some of the other combatants might have a chance to catch up.

Alpharius decides to find ample cover at the rear entrance of the hallway, letting the curvature of the space serve to mask his form.

Actions:

Action: Stop moving forward and find cover. Remain stationary afterwards.

Stealth check for concerted concealment effort:
[roll0] vs. 70

[ArcturusV]

As Vivienne scrambles back down the corridor, towards her companions the heavy crack of bolter fire can be heard, and the impacts of shells on the walls as shells narrowly miss her as she gets the curvature of the walls between her and the marines who are still charging after her. While they are fast, unnaturally so compared to a human, they don't quite match the speed and agility of the Queen of Blades.

In her flight she sees a small Razorwing, a beast who had been with one of the other "petitioners" of Magos Tilmar with her, coming in her direction. Unfortunately she may or may not actually notice the camouflaged form of Alpharius setting up for an ambush, his form melding visually with the wall's almost hypnotically regular patterns.

The sound of the approaching Marines faltered slightly. A misstep as the bellowing voice of the Fat Boy screamed down the corridor. Two were still approaching, and would be in line of sight of Alpharius, and the Razorwing, in 5 seconds. The third seemed to have stopped.

[Kaynebot]

This Arch-Magot Clair was....quite interesting Mort thought as he slowly continued straining to hear if his boisterous call did anything. "You see hurrying lets us make fresh corpses that we can then smell" Mort remarked with a grin, justifying his reasoning for his faster pace. "And while you 'uman-y people get splattered against walls, I like to do the splattering.....not the walking" Mort said the last part with a bit of a depressed sigh imagining his new-found company to be splattering who ever they were facing right now.

[ArcturusV]

They were moving relatively slowly. Then again, what wasn't relatively slowly compared to how Vivienne flew down the corridor? They were walking at an easy pace, holding their bolt pistols lackadaisily, waving them around with a bit of a swagger as they walked in.

"Nice trick with the voice... but you ain't got nowhere to run! Come on out and face your destiny!" called out the one on the left of the formation, as it came into the sight of Alpharius. Neither seemed to have noticed the large, camouflaged marine, for some reason.

"Think she was stupid enough to go down the hatch?" the one on the right mentioned.

"... if she did... she did our job for us."

[Glarx]

Vivienne waved to the psyker when she encountered him, but continued on. It was the Khornate and the lumbering Nurglite she was interested in reaching. When she finally encountered the woman with the star in her forehead, Vivienne began to run with her, matching her pace. She put a hand on Athine's shoulder, trying to stop the woman. If Athine didn't stop, Vivienne would simply speak loudly.

"You may have heard something," Vivienne said, her voice calm and tinny as it was projected through the helmet's external vox. "Something like a grenade. Three loathsome oafs attempted to harm me -- three honorable creatures whose deaths will please the Lord of Skulls. They are overconfident. They believe themselves gifted. You will show them how wrong they are. Break their bones, offer their bodies to the Blood God."

Right then. Full Round Action, Inspire Wrath, Hatred (Warband Utari).

[Col.Straken]

Athine stopped as Vivienne reached her and glared at he for a moment. "I do not fight for the glory of any god" almost spitting the last word, "The Blood God just favours my cause. Show me to these oafs and I shall show them what a woman scorned is like to face."

Action: Full round Frenzy (Next round for the warcry!)

[Revanus]

"...if she did...she did our job for us."

Alpharius draws careful aim at the Marine on the left with his plasma pistol. He holds down the trigger, forcing the weapon to cycle more hydrogen into the chamber to increase the violence of the shot.

They both seem well-informed. It shouldn't matter which I cull first.

With that thought, Alpharius looses two plasma shots at the unlucky, sinister Marine.

Action:

Half Action: Aim
Half Action: Semi Auto Attack
[roll0] vs. 94 (44 + 10 Aim +10 Infamy Point Spent +30 Surprise Round)

Hit 1 (Maximal):
[roll1] Pen 10

Hit 2 (Maximal):
[roll2] Pen 10

Plasma Ammo: 6/12

Next Turn--Initiative Rolls:
[roll3]
[roll4]

[ArcturusV]

The first shot slams into the marine, burning through it's chest armor, and leaving a gaping wound as the blast knocks him on his back. The wound is smoking badly, and you can pick up the scent of burn flesh, bone, and muscle as the wound continues to burn after the initial impact. The second shot burns a hole in his armor near his kidney, boring through the ceramite, and adding an additional scream as the fires consume his body, fed by the unquenchable plasma. Smoke is pouring out of the gaps in the power armor rent by the plasma, and as the scream ends, there's little doubt that he had been killed, burned alive in his own armor.

The other Marine starts to move forward, his bolt pistol strumming out a burst in the general direction of Alpharius. It's hard to tell if he noticed where the shot came from, or not, but there's not exactly a lot of wiggle room for him to miss in the cramped quarters of the corridor. By dint of the fickle luck of the Dark Powers, or the unnatural skills of an Astartes, two of the bolt shells come right for Alpharius, the first coming at his right leg for 20 explosive damage, the second slamming into his left leg for 15 explosive damage.

The third Marine, by witnessing his comrade burned down almost instantly, doesn't seem to be favored by Khorne today, and decides that discretion is the better part of enjoying Slaaneshi's pleasures, the heavy steps of the fleeing marine clear to hear for Alpharius even over the bolter fire and burning corpse.

By now, Moriiak is close enough that given a half move he might get a shot past Alpharius and towards the action, or also be in the line of fire himself. Athine is still a single round out, and Mort and Claire are... well... don't wait up for them.

[Glarx]

"Follow me, then," Vivienne said softly, turning and sprinting back towards the men. The sound of plasma and death filled the air, as did the unmistakable boom of bolt weaponry. Once she was within 20 meters of the man, Vivienne stopped -- and Kraskics opened fire. A gout of purple flame erupted from her shoulder, attempting to engulf the Marine!

So he gets to make a Dodge attempt. If he fails, then he takes [roll0] E Pen 2 damage. Big damage, I know. Also an Challenging +0 agility test to stop from catching on fire afterwards. Hey, he's a lesser minion, what'd'ya expect?

[Col.Straken]

Athine gave a vicious warcry as she charged down the corridor again at full speed now eager to get to grips with their enemies.

Not really much to add, she will make a full move ready for the charge next round (if anyone is left, otherwise she will chase the fleeing Marine)

[Revanus]

Alpharius hardly flinches at the incoming bolt shells. With a swift move, he darts behind the wall.

One shot sails past, exploding some distance behind. The other goes off nearby, and Alpharius feels a bit of vibration and a throb along his left kneepad--nothing serious.

With practiced ease, Alpharius clips his cooling and recharging plasma pistol back to his body. When his hand comes back up, it's holding his legion bolter.

Leaning back around the corner and taking careful aim, Alpharius fires a 3-round burst at the lone Marine.

Actions:
Free Action: Swap Plasma Pistol for Bolter

Half Action: Aim +10
Half Action: Semi-Auto Fire

Attack: [roll0] vs. 64 (44+10 Aim+10 Close Range)

Hits:
Hit 1a: [roll1] Pen 4
Hit 1b: [roll2] Pen 4

Hit 2a: [roll3] Pen 4
Hit 2b: [roll4] Pen 4

Hit 3a: [roll5] Pen 4
Hit 3b: [roll6] Pen 4

Status:
Wounds: 14/17

Ammo--
Bolter: 21/24
Plasma Pistol: 6/12

[watupwithdat]

From what Moraiik had seen through the eyes of his familiar the short time before it turned back to its master, there was two or three Astartes up ahead who had chased the Slaaneshi woman away. He knew there was still one other marine unaccounted for ahead which the familiar hadn't spotted, so he wouldn't be alone if he hurried up. But before he reached somewhere he thought he could get a look at them he heard the sound of plasma and the screams of pain and most likely death, and then return fire — several sources, it seemed like, though he couldn't be sure. It did sound like the missing marine had engaged, them, in any case.

He continued forward and first saw the missing marine, and then an unknown standing beside the smoldering armour of another on the ground. No sign of the third one. He supposed he was still around, probably further up ahead. The way they had to get through, not to get trapped in whatever thing they were in. He had no time to stand around looking, waiting until the marine could take them all out. He was more than capable of doing that himself.

The sorcerer raised both his hands, one of them gripping his staff tightly, as if building up warp energy. And in a way, he was. He was reaching into the warp for pure destructive force, as he had so many times before, gathering up raw hatred and the most concentrated spite. Then he unleashed it a the lone unknown Astartes. His wrath took the form of a skull-like conjuration made of black flame and crimson lightning as it shot out from his raised arms, and headed straight for the marine.


Half Action: Move to get Alph and marine in sight.
Half Action: Unfettered[@PR6] Hellish Blast, +0 Willpower Focus Power Test [roll0] vs 120

Power Range: 180 m
@Target: visible Astartes, a 6 m radius

Psychic Blast with a radius of 6 metres, which deals 3d10 + PR E Damage with a Pen of 10 and the Flame and Tearing Qualities.

Damage: [roll1] + 6 [total: 32] E, Pen 10, Flame, Tearing

[ArcturusV]

The Marine manages to put in a burst of speed as the flaming doom skull comes in, rushing forward, and out of the blast radius of the psychic power as it detonates. The floor, walls, and ceiling where the power detonates seem to drink in the warp flames, the small little "Nubs" and protrusion patterns you noticed before glowing with small, highly detailed sigils in the wake of the explosion.

Suffice to say, Dead Guy McGee, who Alpharius had burned down, didn't exactly dodge the blast, and it slagged his remains even harder.

Shots went wide, buzzing past the Chaos Marine's shoulders and head, his aim thrown off by the sudden burst of speed, because why else would a highly trained Space Marine miss like that, bolter shells slamming into the glowing walls behind the enemy Marine, exploding in crackling displays of light and explosives that left the wall strangely intact, as Athine lets out a loud YIYIYIYIYIYIYI! warble and charges into the fight...

(As the round ends, we are left with the following:

Chaos Space Marine 2, Unharmed so far, the Gods favor him.
Vivienne (And thus Kraskis), and Athine are side by side, 13m away from him (Was 20m, but he dodged forward which carried him to the edge of the hellfire blast, taking up 7m of distance).
Alpharius is barely wounded, at 20m from the Chaos Space Marine (And thus if he wanted to duck out of sight would need to go at least 11m, is also revealed and not Stealthed)
Moraiik, the Exalted One, is at 23m, and behind Alpharius relative to the Chaos Space Marine.
Mort the Fat Boy has likely eaten Claire in desperate hunger as he works off his proper Nurglish Belly trying to run to the front lines.
No one rightly knows right now how far away Chaos Space Marine 3 is... though at least 18m behind the visible one.)

[Glarx]

After a moment's consideration, the hatred in Vivienne won over. Jumping into the air, she flew forward, claws outstretched, intent on clawing at the man who hadn't run when he'd had the chance. Kraskics attacked as well, firing off a gout of the same fire as before.

Aerial charge, Standard Attack. [roll0]. Charge + Higher Ground + Hated + Standard Attack + Ganging Up = Test Number 72.

Also, [roll1] E Pen 2. Wow, many damage, such skill.

She struck his body and grinned underneath her armour. "I told you..."

[ArcturusV]

The little guy lets out a gout of flame, and while the marine's armor seems to hold out just fine against the initial onslaught, but the smoldering coming from within, and the smoke rising seem to tell another story all together, bits of promethium still clinging to and burning the marine alive.

... just as Alpharius hears a menu update for the Cafeteria over Comms about Slow Roasted Flank Steaks and Chilidogs in the commissary today...

Vivienne's flying charge seems to take the Marine by surprise, her claw raking into his chest plate, puncturing through the powered armor, leaving a wide rent in the armor, wounds bleeding profusely underneath, twisted, mutated flesh ripped apart by her claws. He was still on his feet however, and drew back his power fist, about to crack the impudent woman for the pain she brought... when something caught his eye and his mind seemed to slip, unable to focus on what he was doing.

... and Alpharius hears a menu update "Pulled Pork Sandwiches soon available"....

The dead marine continued to smolder and burn as more promethium was poured onto the fires left by Plasma and Sorcery.

(Go ahead Moraiik and company)

[watupwithdat]

The sorcerer had been surprised by the turn of events. Not only that the unknown marine had actually avoided the conjuration of warp fire Moraiik had projected at him, but that the quite eloquent talker with the sidekick had up-and-charged the marine, claws and all. That made things a bit more tricky for him. He could attempt another conjuration, and likely catch the Slaaneshi too and lose a potential powerful resource in the coming task, or use another — more precise — tool.

Moraiik reached out with his mind, attempting to break down the mental defences of the unknown marine, to allow his words to bore down and take hold for just a moment. It was likely all time that was needed, but it still depended on what those words were. He could have him drop his weapons, lay down like a child or even turn his weapon against himself. But there was only so much you could accomplish with an undetailed command.

"Turn that power fist upon yourself." the sorcerer said, loud enough for the unknown astartes to hear, just as the command telepathically reverberated in the man's head.


Half Action: move a little closer
Half Action: Unfettered[@PR6] Compel, -10 Opposed Willpower Focus Power Test [roll0] vs 110 — 8 DoS

Power Range: 30 m
@Target: unknown Astartes

The psyker must nominate a single target within range and line of sight, who may resist with a Willpower Test. If the psyker succeeds, the target must follow his commands. The commands must be simple and achievable within a single round. Some examples include “Flee,” “Fall,” “Attack the closest target,” and so forth. If the command is a potentially suicidal act, the target gets a +20 to his Opposed Willpower Test.

Command: Telling him to attack himself with the power fist on his next turn (assuming he's alive at that point). He gets a +20 on the opposed test because it's potentially suicidal.

Free Action: Unfettered[@PR6] Thought Sending, +40 Opposed Willpower Focus Power Test [roll1] vs 125 — 8 DoS

Telepathically telling him the command. Rolling because it may auto-fail, otherwise it's rather narrative as it's pretty much improbable to resist otherwise.

[Revanus]

A wrinkle in one's plans is simply an opportunity for a more challenging victory...

Alpharius is unbothered by his missed shots. Cooly, he adjusts his aim, refocusing on the large figure of the enemy Marine, despite the added complication of the swirling melee.

As he squeezes the trigger of his bolter, Alpharius cooly calculates that the circumstances of combat have made this burst of bolter fire less likely to land successfully than his last one.

Attack:

Half Action Aim: +10
Half Action Semi-Auto:
[roll0] vs. 44 (44 +10 aim + 10 close range -20 firing into melee)

Damage will be rolled in IC if the shot hits.

Status: Bolter: 18/24
Plasma Pistol 6/12

Wounds: 14/17

[Col.Straken]

Athine saw the rest of the group taking apart the Marine piece by piece, and this only fuelled her anger. "I wanted a fight and you give me THIS"

She charges in swinging her weapons at the Marines body, aiming to chop him in half, finishing the work the others had started.


Beserk Charge swinging for the body, with the Axe.
WS:54+10(hatred)+10(Frenzy)+20(Beserk Charge)+10(Best)-10(Called Shot) =94 [roll0]

[ArcturusV]

In his burning, dazed state, the Marine must have been addled. His reactions were sluggish, and Alpharius's bolt rounds slammed home. The first rocked his leg, the round penetrating his armor and sweeping him off his feet. The second slammed in, and the explosion added to the instability he was suffering, flinging him back down the hallway into the glowing sigils, near where his fallen comrade continued to burn.

The marine's head looked up, past his fallen body... just in time to see a crazed, frothing mad warrior princes with the holy Star of Chaos emblazoned upon her coming in with a large, deadly chain axe.

"... ah crap..."

That was all he could say before the raving madwoman slammed her axe into his leg, cutting through the legionaire's armor like it was crumpled tissue paper. The weapon bit in, cleaving his leg clean off, the brackish, mutated blood of the Astartes champion pumping out hard into open air, soaking the ground within 6m of the body, as she kept hacking away at the removed leg, turning it into so much minced meat and mangled armor in his zealous frenzy, literally beating a dead... well... not horse necessarily.

It was probably on the second swing that Athine felt the heat coming from up under the soles of her boots. The glowing sigils in the wake of the warp fire that Moraiik unleashed pouring energy into her body as she was 5m into the blast radius (7m to get out the other side if you want to go through).

(6 Energy damage x2, one to each leg, armor and toughness not yet applied)

[watupwithdat]

Just a short moment after his telepathic command had taken root in the unknown astartes, he lay on the ground dead or dying. Moraiik could see the blood flowing onto the ground. What a waste. he thought and moved up, to atleast taste it before moving on. He would have that, in the least, since he had mostly been untouched by the warp fire.

He started to hurry forward, his steps seemingly getting more excited as he came closer to the bodies laying on the ground and where the others pretty much had gathered. He had been furthest away, he realised. As he got there, he bent down on one knee and dipped his finger in the pool of blood that had formed and put it to his lips. It tasted... like nothing special. Just astartes. It was not a new taste for him. A hint of something. Perhaps drugs, he did not know. His familiar, the razorwing, flew up to the sorcerer and followed suit, pecking at the blood as birds do when drinking. It was a strange habit of it, mimicing its master when it comes to this particular addiction he had. The sorcerer gathered up a bit more in the cup of his hand, and brought that too to his mouth and imbibed it as he stood up.

"I believe there was one more." he said. He thought he had seen a third through the eyes of his familiar. It was better to assume there still was opposition around. The sigils glowing in front of him were concerning him a little, though. He was unsure what exactly they were or why they had reacted as did they after his conjuration, but such was the situation.

Doing this in narrative as there's no ongoing combat as far as I know. I can remove the post if there's still need for structured and something happens to make the actions irrelevant.

Totally sating his vampiric addiction for blood, by the way.

[Glarx]

"Good work," Vivienne said softly to Athine, watching the woman who was a few meters away and a few meters below her. Then she took off, flying over whatever the trap was and then proceeding after the fleeing Marine at a blistering pace. Kraskics patted her shoulder, letting her know he was still there, still secure on her back.

[Col.Straken]

Athine strode through the sigils and boiling blood, she ignored the others and began to build up momentum again upon hearing of a third. "I am given a downed and injured oaf, and now must hunt a coward, has no-one got a spine?!" she growls almost to herself before running full pelt after the remaining Astartes. She cared not for the rest of the group, they were not her allies or friends, not yet, they could look after themselves.

[ArcturusV]

Vivienne flew out of the corridor, and into the main hall. Looking around, there was no trail of yellow, no giant chicken fleeing in either direction. The statues from before stood as full of panic and fear as before, locked in some silent struggle against some long disappeared foe.

BLAM!

Out of nowhere, a shot, and an impact on Vivienne's spine, right between the wings, a bolter round hitting the unaware Vivienne. One of the "Statues", one bearing markings and armor very similar to the two who were burned down in the corridor, standing there and pointing a bolt pistol at the Childslayer, not 20m away.

(16 Explosive damage to the body, start of a new round, his initiative is 9. Athine, you're 46m out running as straight as you can at him, 36m to get to the end of the corridor and have LoS on him)

[Glarx]

The explosive round collided with her body, and Vivienne ground her teeth at the indignity of it all. In her haste, she hadn't seen the Marine... but now she had. The gout of flame from Kraskics erupted over her shoulder before she flew towards him, claws outstretched, eyes burning underneath her helmet. She was mad. "You should have run when you had the chance!" she screamed through her helmet.

[roll0]. Same deal as before -- Flying Charge Standard Attack with Hatred and Ganging Up. TN 72. I'm guessing this is going to miss, though.

[roll1] E Pen 2 from Kraskics, that lovable little scamp.

[watupwithdat]

As the others rushed ahead, Moraiik went around the edges of where his previous warp manifestation had impacted and reacted with the sigils on the floor. He was not interested in just going straight through like the khornate woman had done, seeing how he did not know the effect upon himself, and he could not fly. His familiar could though, and with a mental command the sorcerer sent it forward to be his eyes as soon as he heard the explosion coming from ahead. Maybe they could take care of themselves, but he had no intention of lingering among the unknown sigils and their inevitable effect. So he kept up the pace, but still cautius as to not get caught unaware until the razorwing had eyes on the situation.

I'm figuring it's possible to go around the sigils on the sides, as the corridor is supposed to be broader than the radius of the hellish blast which reacted with sigils on the ground.

Familiar is going top speed forward (takes him 1 round? I don't know how far it is to the hall), and Moraiik is running behind. Unsure how long it takes him to catch up seeing how he started a little after the rest, and not when the explosion was heard.

[ArcturusV]

Kraskics was on fire... well... not literally, as he engulfed the Marine in a gout of flame that he laughed at, figuring the puny human weapon wasn't really a threat...

... and then the fire caught. Flames burning through his armor, even as he danced out of the way of Vivienne's claws. He brought up his fist for a left hook to the Queen of Blades, but was too slow to tag her, whiffing past Vivienne's right leg as she twisted out of the way.

He squared up as the flames ravaged his body, and judging from the seething noise coming from the marine, sucking in his air through his teeth... it wasn't exactly hurting him too terribly much, quite the opposite.

(Vivienne's turn. Athine is still just 12m out from LoS at the end of the corridor)

[Glarx]

"The gods do not favor you, cur! Your pathetic allies lie dead behind us -- do you feel you will fare any better?" Vivienne swiped again, trying once more to dig her claws into the Traitor Legionnaire.

[roll0]. 62.

[ArcturusV]

Vivienne's claw rips through the armor of the marine, just like his brother. The smoldering flesh beneath being ripped open by her fingers, inflicting a horrible, grievous wound as she raked him, hard. He let out a strangled cry as his lungs were crushed and his flesh charred, falling backwards into the display that he had been hiding in front of... of a little guardsman clutching a flashlight, trembling in fear in his flak jacket, knocking over the display as they fell in a heap.

[Glarx]

Vivienne looked down at him, then to her fingers, and finally landed beside him. She looked back to see if Athine was still running towards her -- and if she was, Vivienne would put up a hand to slow her down. With a motion of her free hand -- her left hand, covered in the blood of her fallen enemy -- Kraskics hopped off and waddled over to him, slowly regaining his normal size. Tenderly, Kraskics began putting the fire out.

[watupwithdat]

Through the razorwing's eyes Moraiik could only see the Slaaneshi woman with the midget on her shoulders standing over a felled foe, and the khornate not engaged with anyone. No other enemies, it seemed. None the creature could see at least. It flew around the hall, circling near the ceiling, before placing itself on one of the many architectual details that would fit and support the bird.

The sorcerer wasn't far away from the hall by now, though his pace had slowed down. He had dealt with many khornates before — hell, he came from a world reeking with such worship — he knew what they were capable in their blood-fuelled frenzies could they not keep a handle on their weak selves. There was no need to go too close or antagonize it, which was easily done just for wielding the powers he did. He kept his mind's eye on the khornate woman by proxy of his familiar. That would do for now.

[Revanus]

Alpharius continues calmly around the hall, passing the corpses of the two enemy marines. He observes the psyker imbibing the blood of the Astartes. The habit is odd for one not possessing an omophagia. Given his own Astartes adaptations, he decides to scoop up some of the blood himself to imbibe for its genetic knowledge, slipping an amount into the food filters of his power armor for easy consumption.

He ignores the lunch updates emanating from his comm leach.

Actions:

Narrative actions: Taste the blood and get some knowledge--ideally what the marines' goals/plans/orders were. Then, continue around the corner until the combat is spotted.

Structured Actions:
Full action: Move 12 meters
(Half action move+half action imbibing blood, if necessary)

Stealth test: [roll0] vs. 70 (50+20)

Awareness: [roll1] vs. 65 (45+20 Heightened/Autosenses)

[ArcturusV]

As Alpharius imbibes the blood, the rush of memories washes over him. The 5 of them on a long journey over the wartorn landscape of Vara, the minor skirmishes on the way. The dive of a place they rested at the end of the day, and a memory about a truly awful, terrible drunken singing by some khornate who had a few too many, followed by the brawl that he started and they finished. Back on the road, traveling in silence as they approached the Fortress of the Magos. Men, and women, who had been ambushed leaving it, 2 here, 3 there, crushed and ripped apart by power fists. Watching the strange gaggle of petitioners entering, planning on an ambush in the close confines where they could keep them from scattering, rather than let them escape into the open, the furious pace of the fight itself.

[Col.Straken]

Athine arrives in the Hall just as in time to watch Vivienne gut the hapless Astartes. "Is this the best they can provide!? The frakking Magos insults us with these pitiful excuses of warriors!"

She walks up to the marine and ignores Vivienne's gesture, too annoyed at the ease of the fights, she needed to test herself, push the limits if she was to kill Regilius. "If these are the Emperors finest, then I do not know why the Imperium has not already fallen. Abaddon must be the weakest and most cowardly of the lot." Athine's eyes almost glowed with her anger as she stalked over, weapons still ready to use by her sides.

OoC
I am guessing it will take Athine a turn to get to the Marine and Vivienne, and I thought I would give her a chance to stop me from chopping him up.

[Glarx]

Vivienne put her left hand on Athine's chest as the woman approached, if the Khornate approached the Marine directly. "You long for worthier foes? People worthy of your blades? Adversaries that will push you to the limit? Then follow me. If nothing else, if I fail to live up the promise, then you have me to fight -- and I believe the carnage today proves I might survive at least a few seconds against you, if nothing else."

Kraskics, having put the fire out, rifled through the Marine's exterior and collected odds and ends, attaching them to Vivienne's armour.

"This Marine is still alive, and I would have words with him. I made him a promise, to feast on his entrails. You will not harm him. Am I clear?"

If Athine hadn't approached such that Vivienne could put her hand on Athine's chest, the Slaaneshi would spread out her wings to form a cordon around the fallen Marine. "Kraskics, disconnect the power supply to his power fist. Mother doesn't need to deal with two threats at once."

[Col.Straken]

Athine walks right up to Vivienne, only stopping at her touch before turning eyes upon her. She stares for a moment, to back down could be seen as weakness or friendship, for a moment she began to snarl before catching herself. Athine took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. When they opened the anger and hate seemed to have melted out of them, returning to their natural colour.

"I seek only one death, and it is not yours. I would enjoy a sparring match with you, but not one to the death." she nodded, before spitting upon the wounded Astartes. Athine turned to walk away and placed her weapons back in their sheaths upon her back. "You can have him to do what you wish. I shall wait while the others arrive and you carry out your mildly disgusting promise."

[watupwithdat]

Moraiik entered the larger hall, and his half running became simple walking. The potential danger of the corridors was over, and he had a bird's eye view of the hall already. There seemed to be some dispute between the rage-filled khornate and the winged one, though it suddenly seemed to be diffused. He couldn't hear all they were saying, and he didn't care very much in particular. He was more interested in why the Magos — because it had to be the Magos — would have just thrown away seemingly capable bodies at them. It didn't seem to serve much of a purpose, unless he really saw his resources as endless. Perhaps it was to show them that, the sorcerer wondered.

He walked closer to the two others, while he looked around the hall and at the statues. He hadn't paid much attention to them on the way in.

"I take it they've perished." he said, unconcerned with the others' status.

[Revanus]

Alpharius continues around the corner, trailing slightly behind Moraiik as he processes the images he received from the Astartes.

Actions:

Awareness (to spot the third marine): [roll0] vs. 65

Glancing at the third marine's collapsed form, he levels his boltgun at the body--poised to fire if there is movement.

[ArcturusV]

As people gather, and Kraskics smothers flames and disables devices, the more eagle eyed among you (Alpharius at the very least) notice that the downed Marine is stirring slightly, and that his hand is slowly going for where his own bolt pistol used to be, grasping at it an empty holster. His eyes are barely open, just barely peeking between the lashes, his breathing slow and steady as he, fairly unsuccessfully, tries to feign still being unconscious.

[Glarx]

"You may yet have your sparring match, Warrior of Khorne. We shall see." The Slaaneshi looked at the Exalted Psyker and raised an eyebrow underneath her armoured helm. "This one isn't quite dead, although he should be unconscious for a little while yet. I intend to question him, and then present him with a choice -- but it is of no consequence. He presents no true threat to us any longer."

Despite her and Kraskics' incredible proximity to the downed Marine, neither realized he was conscious again. The Gods, it would seem, were playing a little prank.

[Revanus]

Alpharius sees the Marine reach for his bolt pistol, and knows instantly that the danger has not yet passed.

Space Marines have an advanced physiology--meant to shrug off blows that would addle or kill lesser beings. Alpharius is not surprised that the woman in power armor failed to dispatch the Utari warrior.

If the task is difficult, rely only on oneself..

Alpharius considers lunging forward to charge the prone Marine. It would be hard for any foe to dodge such an attack.

However, the idea of throwing himself forward to save the fickle skins of the two squabbling females is illogical. Too much risk and minimal reward. Plus, what's to stop either of those two from pouncing on Alpharius' exposed rear? No--better to demonstrate the marine's consciousness from a distance.

With that, Alpharius quickly lowers his bolter and snatches his plasma pistol back into his hand. He takes aim and looses a careful iridescent shot at the prone marine.


Actions:

Free Action: Swap Bolter for Plasma Pistol

Half Action: Aim+10

Attack--Standard: [roll0] vs. 64 (44 +10 Aim+10 Close Range+10 Standard Attack -10 Prone)

Damage:
[roll1] Pen 8

Note: If Alpharius is not within 15 meters of the Marine, treat this as a standard attack from the bolter instead.

[Glarx]

The plasma bolt sailed by her, missing the Marine on the ground. Vivienne turned her eyes to the mysterious plasma-wielding marine, tilting her head to the side. "Rude," she asked quietly, motioning for Kraskics to get back on her. Then she turned to look at the fallen Marine. "If you value your life, stay down."

Looking back at the Mysterious Marine, Vivienne spread her wings again and rolled her head inside her helmet. "Would you please not shoot at my prisoner? I would very much enjoy him retaining his consciousness -- and his life -- for the time being. He could be extremely useful to us alive. Less so dead. And wasting plasma ammunition is never particularly wise."

Intimidation Check on the fallen marine. [roll0].

[ArcturusV]

And as Fire is exchanged, threats, and generally good advice is exchanged, one Fat Boy Mort manages to finally reach the end of the corridor and trundle out into the Great Hall, with Arch Magot Claire, and Giblets close behind. With the last of you out of the Corridor of DOOM, a Laud Hailer near the ceiling over the entrance to the corridor sounds out a little bit of fanfair, trumpets crowing out over your accomplishment, a little banner unfurling from the bottom of the Laud Hailer which stated "Congratulations on Not Dying. Keep it up. ~Tilmar", as the trumpets died off.

The down CSM, for his part, stayed down, either due to his wounds, to the shot flying in front of his face from Alpharius, or the warning threat from Vivienne, it was hard to tell, he wasn't exactly being very talkative at the moment.

[Revanus]

Alpharius is impassive as he stares at Vivienne.

"He was reaching for his weapon. Had I meant to kill him, I would have. Do not make the mistake of assuming a prone Astartes to be neutralized or incapacitated.

Do not delay. Extract your questions, and then put the matter to rest. Or your prisoner will shortly find himself sharing the fate of his two companions."

Action:
Deceive test vs. Vivienne (for harmlessness):
[roll0] vs. 81 (41+20 illusion+20 unremarkable)

(Feel free to toss this test if it doesn't apply)

Alpharius keeps his plasma pistol trained on the Utari warrior.

"Though, when they set out, they numbered five. Correct?"

[Glarx]

Vivienne turned around and loomed over the fallen Marine. "I am Vivienne Verata, Apostate of Slaanesh, the Childslayer, the Queen of Panourgos, the True Heir of the Verata Warrant. I am more powerful than your Clan Utari -- and that's without accounting for the potency of my new allies. So make no mistake, cur -- you are at my mercy, and it is by my benediction alone that you remain alive.

"But I do not seek your death. There are entrails enough in the corpses of your brothers to satisfy whatever craving crosses my mind. So understand this -- I want you to join me. Not to die ignobly here in the fortress of the Lord of Vara, no. Not to die atop a statue of an Imperial Guardsman, no. But to join me, to serve me, and to fight for me. To fight with me. Regain your honor, marine. You will taste the blood of a thousand foes -- or die in a worthy combat -- if you serve me. If not, you will die to a mere human. The Gods will not look so kindly upon such failure."

I choose you, Charm skill!

[roll0]

[Donan]

A quiet thudding sound sounds in the chamber as another presence approaches, one of polished red and black metal and bulky in the way of tech priests. This one, however, is significantly more then the usual sort and no mark of humanity or flesh is visible in the apparent construct.

The voice echoes with quiet amusement as cold, blue eyes regard the group. "Mewling voices tend to warp tales into absurd heights. Perhaps your reputation is a true thing."

It carries weapons on its mechanical body, but has currently empty arms. "It seemed unwise to come nearer during battle, I do not seek to be your enemy. I sense I may be of some worth to you."

The fallen marine is regarded. "More worth then one who'll turn on you if he gains the chance."

[Kaynebot]

Arriving in the hallway, it was a strange sight. He thought, he expected more fireworks as he came down the hall. "Ha! Ha! Ha! That Tilmar has quite the sense of humor!" Mort laughed loudly before clearing his throat. "So, what did you humees run off and find?" he asked in a very serious voice that contrasted sharply with the mood of his last statement. Mort starts lumbering towards the downed marine, taking intrigue that this group has killed two and maimed one.

[ArcturusV]

The marine looks up at Vivienne, raising an eyebrow towards her. "You make a lot of promises, but your words show how ignorant you truly are here. You're out of your depth, what do you know of who I serve? Or why I serve? You don't even know the simple facts of your own surroundings! You don't even realize the depths to which you are at the mercy of powers far beyond your ken. At this very moment Tilmar sends you on a fool's errand, and has you dead to rights, at this very moment, should it not go as his wishes. Walk out of here now, while you can. Doesn't matter what you offer me, I'll never live to see it."


[roll0]

[Col.Straken]

Athine listened to the exchange and frowned, this is not what she agreed to! She spun and stalked towards Vivienne, "I spared him so that you could question him, not recruit him! I trust him less than you all, and I would not have him stand by me. Either ask him your questions or else I shall, and I will not be gentle with his body."

Athine stared at Vivienne ignoring the prone Astartes along with the rest of the group. She had attempted friendship and clearly had made a mistake, next time she would not back down so quickly.

[ArcturusV]

There's a moment that Vivienne notices as she watches the marine. A little bit of body language that came through the armor, an uncomfortable sort of squirm, and his legs and arms coming towards a more guarded posture than they were before. His helmet moved, glancing over down the hall towards Alpharius and Rage Face, before coming back to Vivienne.

"I doubt you could keep your bargain even if you meant it. Clearly you cannot control your cohorts here, they're barely checked raving psychopaths. The only reason you're still standing, is that they haven't decided you're in their way... yet. But it looks like that might be changing. You can't offer me something you can't provide," he replied back to Vivienne. "But I can offer you something in return. Clearly you don't belong with this pack of trigger happy Khornates. We walk out together... and I'll make sure you're capable of walking away."


[roll0]

[Glarx]

"You need to trust me for a little more than thirty seconds, Warrior of Khorne -- I did not survive all this time simply by luck. I know what I am doing. Do not underestimate me." Vivienne said this to Athine, looking over her shoulder. And then the body language spoke to her, loud and clear. The Slaaneshi took off her helmet and looked down at him.

"As for you..." She ran her left hand through the myriad carapaced spines of her hair. "You're hanging on to life by a thread. The only reason you would be capable of stepping out of this hall is because I actively helped you get there. And I want to help you -- and if those behind me disagree, they are free to leave. Nothing binds us together. They are not required to walk near me. I am useful to them, yes, and helpful too. To my friends and allies, I am a boon. To my enemies... I generally gut them. You've experienced that first hand.

"Come, Marine of Utari. You need medical attention. We can discuss your old clansmen and what you know of the Magos on the way. There is no shame in this -- only in dying ignobly." She extended her right hand to him, to help him up on his feet.

Charm again!

[roll0]

[ArcturusV]

A sigh came from the Marine. Slowly he reached up towards his helmet, unfastening it and pulling it off. The man underneath was an odd example of someone who had been in the grips of chaos. No horrible disfigurements, scars, or mutations. Clear mocha colored skin, soft, strong jaw line, black hair about 3 inches long, dark green eyes. His breathing seemed a little shallow as he still had quite a serious chest wound, Marine Toughness or not. His eyes though told the story. It lacked the fire you'd expect out of a warrior in combat. He knew that he was beaten, and had failed badly both on the battlefield and against the will of the woman before him.

[Glarx]

Vivienne continued to extend her hand. "What is your name, Warrior of Utari?"

[ArcturusV]

The marine finally reached up taking Vivienne's offered hand. His grip wasn't very strong at the moment, and he nodded slowly, "... Markus," he replied. He didn't bother to try to pull himself up at first. Be it some shred of pride left, or just weakness, it was hard to tell.

Eventually he levered himself up, with Vivienne's grip and his own arm behind him. The statue he had knocked over in his fall was still there, seemingly undamaged from its rough treatment, having a flaming marine knocked over on it, quite surprising for what looked like a mock up of normal flak armor, lag gun, and simple human stock, some poor, terrified Imperial soldier.

Once on his feet, Markus reached for the hole that Vivienne had ripped in his armor with his left hand, inspecting the damage that the mutant's claw had caused.

[Glarx]

"Lean down for a moment," she commanded in a soft voice, looking up into Markus' face. "You have suffered so much, haven't you? Your candle has guttered, and even one stiff breeze might snuff it out. But you're strong, aren't you, Markus? You're worth protecting. You're worth saving. Come here for a moment. Let me look into your eyes."

Kraskics cracked his little amorphous neck and closed his eyes, focusing. Underneath his armour, a strange discoloration to his skin had taken hold, great ugly splotches. They were a little itchy. In his mind, he was considering potential outcomes for things. Foresight, they called it. The little gremlin was showing foresight.

Once the Marine complied with her wishes, Vivienne ran her right hand across his jaw, examining his physique. "You are mine. And I will protect you as I do my own children. But you are not one of mine. No... not quite... a different mother reared you, a different father sired you. Your birth was no less grueling than any of my children's, but different entirely in kind..." She leaned forward and kissed him. It was a passionate kiss, and Vivienne pulled the Marine in with her wings, embraced him fully. After a moment, she pulled back, staring into his eyes. "Now, let's see about getting you patched up... I have a ship nearby, we can speak there."

Finally, Vivienne looked back at the group, putting her helmet back on. "We do seem to have a new accomplice, don't we? And one who says I mewl! Aren't you a rude one! In the same breath you claim it is unwise to approach us in combat, but you begin by questioning the veracity of my words. Regardless, I have no interest in butchering you. Perhaps our Khornate?" She looked at Athine, with an eyebrow raised. "If you think you have worth, though, do feel free to accompany me to my vessel. But I have no desire to remain in this building any longer. Not until we have something to offer Magos Tilmar, some success to lay at his feet." Looking over at Mort, the Slaaneshi grinned. "I'm pleased to see you hadn't perished in the corridor, Terminator. Your prowess will be remarkably useful in the coming days, of that I've no doubt."

[Kaynebot]

Mort still striding forward undaunted by being left out of the loop said "Now that we are all lovey-dovey" in a jovial mocking tone. " I have skills that are useful now. And you Marine seem to be about as useful as a sterile knife, let Giblets and I patch you up, if your trading 'llegiances that is." Mort laughed at his own small joke. He offered the help because if Nurgle spared this one then why shouldn't Mort.

[Donan]

The mechanoid made a whirling sound. "I made no mention of you in that context, follower of Slannesh. I spoke of the cretins whose words helped me find you and your fellows." A metal clad hand gestured. "I do not give insults to those I seek as allies, I respect those worthy of working alongside."

[Col.Straken]

Athine kept staring at Vivienne, "I have no interest in slaughter for slaughters sake. I do not worship the God of Blood, I am just in his favour for the moment." She turns to them all, and grins "You should all remember that, we are in favor for now. Do not expect it to remain."

Athine then looks at the injured marine, now turned ally. "You shall remain within my sight at all times. I can lend what field medicae I know, though it is not much for the augmented."

[Glarx]

Vivienne smiled at Mort's offer. "I would prefer for Kraskics to take point, if you have no objection. I've more interest in Markus alive than... incapacitated. But any assistance you could render him would be graciously accepted." To the Heretek, she tilted her head to the side. "The implication was clear by the order of the words. If that wasn't your intention, then thank the Dark Gods I'm not a rasher sort, hmm? I do wonder -- would you be willing of repairing the armour? Several of us sustained damage, and our equipment seems worse for it. I have little doubt you can do it -- only curiosity as to whether you'd care to."

Finally, Vivienne turned to Athine. "He shall, shall he?" The amusement in her voice was audible, even through the external vox of her armour. With Kraskics on her back, a hand on Markus', and the beginnings of an ache in her side from where she took one of her new minion's bolt shells forming, Vivienne began to walk towards the exit -- at a brisk enough pace, although one Mort could follow. "We can discuss every manner of your requirements, Favored of Khorne. But not in this hallway. I am taking my leave -- and I do hope you all will follow me."

[Revanus]

Alpharius does not budge from his position and does not lower his plasma pistol.

"You have all been deceived. A lie by omission is no less a deception. The Alpha Legion sees through such ploys. Take no further steps, Warrior of Utari--lest you meet the very death you seek to avoid."

After the slightest of pauses, Alpharius continues.

"You claim loyalty and submission, Warrior of Utari. If such is true, you will have no objection to volunteering information, as evidence of your dedication. Answer the following questions truthfully, or the death that greets you will be unremarkable and swift.

Your warband numbered five--not a mere three. Where are your other two members?

Why have you traveled so far across the wastes to slay petitioners to the Magos?

Towards what end were you and your companions herding us?

And what is your objection and grievance with Tilmar?"

[Kaynebot]

"Ha! You insult me women. I will not be your lackey, so if you would like assistance Giblets can help." Mort chuckled afterword and grinned under the helmet. "Well looks like someone else intends to take charge." Mort said to Alpharius' horde of questions. This group dynamic is getting more and more interesting. Mort thought.

[Donan]

The heretek nods, watching the questioning of the prisoner with a cold gaze and no comment.

"Of course. I will see to your armour, weapons and equipment with all the skill I possess. And that of the allies you have with you here, should they allow it."

[Col.Straken]

Athine smiled, it appeared that the Slaaneshi woman had made few friends this day. "You may believe yourself to be the greatest, but it is a dangerous place to stand. I see that others are not pleased with your new friend, and trust him as little as I."

[Glarx]

The Slaaneshi turned around and looked at the Marine holding a plasma pistol. "If you people keep threatening me and my new friend, I'm going to start taking it the wrong way. If you want to ask him questions, then ask him outside. Or ask him while we're walking outside. But fine, as a show of good faith, Markus, tell us -- quickly, please -- about the other two comrades our 'alpha legionnaire' mysteriously knows about, hmm? And then we can hopefully be done with this."

Looking at Mort and then Athine, Vivienne sighed. "At this point I don't even care to work with the lot of you. Go, do whatever you want then! If you don't see the wisdom in my words, there's no force binding us together. I never said, 'Mort! Do what I say! I am your master!' I said, if you'd like to help, we'd appreciate it. That's not how you talk to a lackey, that's how you talk to an ally. At least, that's how I talk to an ally. You might talk to them in some other way, who the hell knows.

"I don't believe myself to be the greatest, Favored of Khorne. I acknowledge that each of us have our strengths and weaknesses. If anything, the psyker among us might warrant a little more investigation than we're giving him, but that is neither here nor there. I do think I'm equipped to be a leader, though, but that's because of the extreme period of time during which I have been a leader. But if you don't agree with me -- or if you think it's not worth following me, or if you think it's not wise, then don't. Do I have a ship with which to get to the Clan Utari compound? I do. Do I have a person who knows where the Bunker is? Well -- I hope I do, I haven't asked Markus yet. It's safe to assume he'll know.

"I would enjoy sitting down around a table, enjoying a nice glass of amasec and discussing who we are, getting everyone's names, creating some sort of compact for the purposes of succeeding at the task given to us by Magos Tilmar. But all this hostility, all of these attempts to shoot one another or the odd threat of evisceration, that's not conducive to a nice conversation. The power dynamic right now is entirely about might, and in no way about logic or consideration. Do you have a ship we could use? If so, then you don't need me."

Vivienne shrugged again and shook her head. "I'd like to work with you. Honestly, I would. This place doesn't seem like the area to do all this discussing. I had intended to invite you all over and we could have talked in a civilized manner. We were given a time limit to get out of the Magos' fortress. I'd like to meet that deadline."

Hmm... do I need to make a Charm test? Revanus has set the precedent for social tests against other heretics...

[roll0] just in case.

[ArcturusV]

With Vivienne's permission given, more or less, to respond to the violent Marine with bad aim, Markus nodded. He kept walking, slowly, taking point for his new Boss, and a bit gingerly as he still had that massive chest wound, taking slow breaths and speaking slowly to keep his chest wound from flaring up.

"Outside," Markus replied, taking the questions in order. "They are ill suited for combat. They also serve, who stand and wait." Where he busted out this quote, probably no one would know, but he said it in such a way it seemed he was in fact quoting something.

"Those were the orders. 'sides... sounded fun. Has been fun," he smiled, and took a deep, shuddering breath as he recalled some of the past encounters on this mission, cracking people's faces open, the horrible atrocities, the fun loot. Markus looked back over the gathered group, and gave a little chuckle that broke into a hacking, coughing fit. "Got a lot of shinies there... would have been fun... but for a twist of fate."

"No herding. Lady here ran right at us. Figured it'd be nice to take you all down one by one, since you all seemed to be running at us like unorganized gaggle of sheep. Nice and easy..." he shrugged a bit, "Too cocky, forgot to listen to their instincts. Not that I did much better..."

"He's nutters... and I know better than to mess with him directly." Markus shrugged slightly, "I don't care about the politics. I do care about keeping my head on my neck though."

[watupwithdat]

The sorcerer had become uninterested of the squabbling over the fallen enemy, and was instead inspecting the statues and ornaments of the hall. It was a sight, if anything. But the others were loud, perhaps to be expected. If you want information, just rip it out of his mind. Moraiik thought at one point. Of course, he doubted any of them knew how to. None seemed to possess the gifts of Tzeentch.

The razorwing familiar flew down from where it had been perched and sat upon the left shoulder of the sorcerer, as he casually walked down along the statues looking at each of them, the sharp talons of the bird gripping into the reinforced pads underneath his robes. Without that, his shoulder would have been shreds long ago. A while longer, and the group seemed to move. Seemed to be done. It was a temporary grouping, he felt, but a grouping nonetheless. They weren't destroying eachother, for now. And oh, could he destroy others.

"Done I take it?" he rhetorically asked as Vivienne caught up to his position further down the hall.

[Glarx]

"I hope so. Now that the Alpha Legionnaire's battery of questions have been answered, perhaps we can finally leave this potential deathtrap." She smiled under her helmet at the man. "Vivienne Verata. I don't believe I've caught your name yet."

[Col.Straken]

Athine listened, and closed her eyes, she sighed knowing that Vivienne was right. "A ship does sound good, I am tired of walking. Perhaps I was rash in my speech, though I still do not trust the Marine."

She began to follow Vivienne and her minions out and drew her weapons when she heard there were more outside. "We have a few choices, go out together and kill them. Send your new friend out to distract them, or follow hulk here and let him take the shots?"

[Glarx]

"If they aren't suited for combat, Markus might be able to convince them to join us. Or I might be able to as well. Are they servitors, Markus? Are they techpriests? Sycophants? Scribes, scouts?"

Markus shook his head. "Human slaves."

Vivienne turned to look at Athine, smiling still underneath her helmet (not that anyone could see, of course, but still!). "Trust is earned. I don't expect you trust Markus. I especially don't expect you to trust me. I have asked you to lend me some trust, but you seem reserved in that respect. Completely understandable. So perhaps in time you'll see there's a rhyme to my reason. Or not." She shrugged and then considered the slaves outside. "There's really no reason to waste perfectly good chattel..."

[watupwithdat]

"I am Moraiik." the sorcerer replied after Vivienne had introduced herself. "Bound to none of the Ruinous Powers, yet in service to all. Breaker of the veil between the materium and immaterium. Scorcher of bones." Moraiik continued, and was then quiet for a few moments. "And so on." he finally concluded.

[Revanus]

Alpharius nods slightly.

"Very well. Let it be known that I hold no malice against Vivienne of Verata, Apostate of Slaanesh.

However, Warrior of Utari, trust that if we should encounter an ambush upon our exit, you will be the first casualty."

Alpharius will follow the rest of the group out, making a point to bring up the rear. He does not holster his plasma pistol--instead, he swaps his sword for his bolter, keeping both weapons trained at the back of Markus' head.

Actions:

Narrative time movement.

Awareness (hearing--to listen to what Vivienne and Moraiik are talking about):
[roll0] vs. 65

I assume the stealth check from earlier will carry over--otherwise, I'll roll it again.

Additionally, I'm presuming that an ambush round will be preceded by an awareness check to determine if surprise exists. Otherwise, I'll roll that as well in OOC. :)

[Glarx]

"It really is quite nice to meet you, Moraiik the Veil-breaker. The after-effects of your magic was quite a sight! I can't wait to see what other marvels you can produce!" Looking over her shoulder, Vivienne waved at the Alpha Legionnaire. "Nor do I hold any malice towards you. Truly, quite the opposite -- you did save my life, after all. Anyhow, there are other groups interested in killing us. Perhaps we should not shoot my new toy until he's actually guilty of something?"

[Kaynebot]

As everyone starts to walk outside, Mort trundles along with them. Walking up next to Vivienne even if he has to squeeze through a couple people to get there he walks to her side. "Viv, I believe we were at a misunderstanding." Then lowering his voice to a very loud whisper, "It's stressful, I understand the position of power, I'm here for you." Brings a big hand around to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, maybe a little heavily though. His attention then getting distracted at the new member. "So....you like all machine? Or you got nice 'uman-y bits on you still?" Mort asks to the new person thats not the marine.

[watupwithdat]

"The after-effects would have been much more interesting had my conjuration not been evaded." the sorcerer said with a slightly disappointing tone to his voice. "Though there was a strange reaction with the sigils on the floor. Most likely part of the contraption the Magos hinted at."

[Glarx]

A wing wrapped around Mort's waist, and Vivienne's hand rested on his back. "Thank you, Son of Nurgle. Plasma and bolters and new lovers -- you know how it can be. Crazy, hectic, jarring!" She rested an armoured head against his... forearm, probably, not quite his shoulder. "I think we could end up being great friends, famous friends. But we really must do something about the speed issue..." She tapped her free hand against the armour on her thigh, letting the metal ring dully.

Turning her head -- still against Mort's body -- to look at Moraiik, Vivienne suppressed a desire to laugh. "I noticed that as well. I wonder what sort of arcanotechnological defenses exist in this fortress... and I do regret not seeing what happened to a living Marine when properly damaged by that... I'm not sure what to call it. Conjuration seems a little insufficient, considering what it is I witnessed..." She gave a little one-shoulder shrug. "So, I intend to -- barring any additional diversions -- head back to my vessel. If you would care to follow me there, feel free."

[watupwithdat]

"Perhaps you may yet discover that, as I do not have a transport of my own, and would like to take you up on your invitation. I had been walking these areas for days already, before I came upon the fortress." the sorcerer said, but not really expressing any particular mood or state of mind. He just seemed calm and a little distant, perhaps his thoughts were pre-occupied elsewhere.

[Col.Straken]

Athine followed the others as they shared laughter and words. It had been so long since she had had that. She had lost too much to offer friendship and allegiance so quickly. "You are all too friendly, it makes me ill. My feet are tired though, a vessel would be welcome."

[Kaynebot]

Mort was almost confused for a second. Not expecting that reaction. "I like to think slow and steady wins the race" Mort chuckled a little before continuing "But yea, I wouldn't mind if Grandfather blessed me with a vehicle."

[ArcturusV]

Markus took point as you all drew to the end of the Great Hall, passing once more out the gates, and between the large, and mostly impassive, eyes of the large armored figures who had been standing guard during your entrance. Seeing Markus, followed by Vivienne, they seemed to stir slightly, their bodies barely turning towards the procession.

The warp tainted sky overhead seemed to be boiling, ripples and bubbles popping in the upper atmosphere of the swirling vortex that surrounded the Daemon World. Markus glanced skyward, "Incoming storm," he told Vivienne. Anyone who had been on Vara for any particular length of time would have probably seen them, moments where the Immaterium became more unstable than normal. Quick to form, usually short to pass, it created odd effects, minor gibbering warp beasts, strange phenomenon, or even simple weather. Suffice to say, most beings on Vara tended to seek shelter for the duration of storms, some braved it, the crazed used the storms to feed rituals.

[Glarx]

"A storm... hmm..." Vivienne patted Mort on the shoulder and untangled herself from the terminator, beginning to move towards where her ship was. "The port ought to provide enough shelter. Everyone is welcome on my ship, of course. Just do avoid pulling any weapons out? I really am quite protective of my property."

[Revanus]

Alpharius silently follows the group, deliberately occupying the most rearward position as they trudge along.

[watupwithdat]

"Good weather coming." the sorcerer said simply. Of course, it would be surprising if he meant it for any reason other than the implications it would have on warp magicks and rituals. His familiar circled above, giving him a little better view of how far away the storm was.

[Glarx]

Vivienne made her way to the hangar where her ship was being kept. It was an ornate affair, very impractical for the purposes of waging war. There were no gun emplacements at all that could be seen from the outside. The surface was sleek, inspired by but more artistically realized than Imperial starfaring vessels. Across the surface were inlaid bands of gemstones, running in single, solid strips to form decorative patterns. Beautiful platinum plates -- undoubtedly covered in some lacquer to prevent the metal from atomizing in reentry -- formed the rest of the hull, the backdrop to the patterns. What they were conspiring to form as a whole, however, was lost to those who looked upon it. Perhaps the psyber raven would have the proper vantage point, but there wasn't a coherent design -- or, if there was, it was hidden behind insanity.

A group of thirty five individuals, dressed in silk finery -- all androgynous creatures, some willowy, some absurdly fat -- were standing near the access ramp, wringing their hands together and making all manner of noise for the return of Verata. Some cooed softly, others chortled loudly -- all in excess, however, in ways that could only be described as 'oily.' Sycophantic creatures. As Vivienne walked up the access ramp, they ran their hands over her armour, caressing it and uttering nonsense. If anyone cared to look, they might notice that even Kraskics was running his hands over her helmet in response to the gentle wall of positive reinforcement emanating from the group. Markus strode slightly behind his new mistress, and was slightly engulfed by the crowd that formed around Vivienne.

The hall was wide enough for three space marines to walk shoulder to shoulder in comfort. There was rare wood on the floor, hard enough that even Alpharius' and Mort's massive shapes didn't cause it to creak, and the walls were covered in fine velvet wall hangings. Light fixtures were hidden within the folds of the cloth, and provided a nice illumination without being overpowering. The walls themselves were red, and the velvet black, with muted gold for the vaulted ceilings. Doors lined the walls, spaced out reasonably, and there were ornate-looking chaise lounges with lovely patterns in between each pair of doors. Carpet ran down the middle, thick red carpet that sunk over two centimeters when stepped on. Chandeliers also hung from the ceilings, tens of thousands of fine crystals spreading multifaceted light throughout the area. It was beautiful, a true testament to the craftsmanship of the Imperium of Man's storied past. The hallway extended down twelve or so pairs of doors before turning into other corridors.

"Welcome to my little home away from home," the Slaaneshi Apostate said, turning around to look at those other heretics who had followed her. "I trust you'll be comfortable."

[Kaynebot]

As Mort follows Viv, he's surprised by the ship. He certainly wasn't expecting this. It already seems a little too clean for hist taste. As Mort was walking up the ramp, he couldn't help but think of how weird the people were. Almost unnervingly so... As he enters the ship, looking behind to make sure Giblets was still there "Giblets, helmet" Mort said simply. Giblets then preceded to climb up Mort's armor till he could reach the helmet, and as Mort unlocked it, Giblets took the helmet off. For those finally seeing Mort's face it isn't nearly as ugly as a plaguemarine's but it isn't the pinnacle of beauty either. He had short black dirty hair, and rough scarred face with an almost off putting jolliness there as well. Giblets jumped back down off Mort holding his helmet under his arm. "Quite the....home? It looks to clean for me though." Mort just kind of awkwardly standing in the hall. Not quite sure what to do, unsure whether he could sit on one of chaise without breaking it.

[Col.Straken]

Athine followed Vivienne back to her ship, while they may have got off to a bad start she wasn't keen on spending her next few days in the middle of a warp storm again any time soon. She kept her weapons drawn until walking up the crafts ramp, wary of any betrayal or ambush though she did not expect any with the coming storm. Eyeing the trinkets and decorations she smiled slightly, some people were always fond of things that held no meaning. Athine had her own trinkets though they were few, they had all meant something deep to her.

"Pretty little ship you have, can it fly with all these decorations?"

[Glarx]

"My darling sycophants tend to make sure the craft is clean. I simply abhor messes. I trust you will endeavor to keep yourself... contained, Child of Nurgle?" Vivienne strode with purpose, each step causing a little click of armour on wood. "As for the viability of it in travel -- yes, it's perfectly capable of flight. Come! Let's see about getting you all rooms while we wait for this little storm to blow over..."

Vivienne tilted her head to one side and stopped moving. "We need to convene a compact, begin working together in earnest. The fiasco of leaving the Tilmar fortress proves that. Furthermore we need to gather supplies for the mission. I'll speak with Markus and learn what secrets he has in his mind. Soon, Clan Utari's defenses will be known, and we can plan around them. Shall we take an hour for rest before meeting back up?"

[Kaynebot]

As Vivienne was talking, Mort attention was taken by all the extravagances on this ship. He was looking at this or that, not appearing to listening what she said but in reality almost all of his attention was on her words. "We could take that rest if you are tired Viv. But I 'ave actually begin to do anything today. Ha-Ha Ha-ha" He tried to gather himself for a few moments before speaking again. "So you have a room large enough for me-self and Giblets?"

[Glarx]

The Apostate nodded to both statements. "I'm always willing to lie down and writhe with my sycophants... but mostly I wish to hear Markus' words. And I haven't the slightest of whether you all have been active or not prior to our meeting with Tilmar -- I have been awake for some hours. This planet seems quite... fluid in its activity, at any rate. We'll need to wait out the storm regardless.

"As for a room large enough for the both of you -- yes, any of the standard rooms would fit you just fine. Although I do think I'll put you in the storage room. It's grimier there, you may feel more at home. Unless you're simply enjoy a nice bed?" She walked down the hall a few meters before stopping next to a door, gesturing to it. "This room should suit your purposes, if you so desire."

[Kaynebot]

Mort couldn't help but raise an eyebrow to her first statement. She is so weird he couldn't help but think. "Giblets would probably like the storage room. Its too clean around here." Mort thought to himself, "Show me the storage room and then you can be off to do....whatever you like."

[Col.Straken]

Athine shrugged, she didn't really doubt the ships flight ability but she wasn't one for over ornamentation. She followed Vivienne around waiting to be shown her room. "Any room will do me, I have grown used to travelling light and living rough. A nice bed would be welcome though, but please not too soft or filled with slaves and servants."

[Revanus]

Alpharius cautiously makes his way up the ramp. Wary of traps, the Alpha Marine is nevertheless confident that any latent threats that Vivienne might have cooked up were surmountable.

Listening to the chatter of the others, Alpharius is content to wait and listen. However, one comment demands notice.

"I will join you for the interrogation of Markus, Warrior of Clan Utari."

[Glarx]

"That sounded like an order," Vivienne said, raising an eyebrow. "And I will enjoy my little prize alone at first. You can have your turn afterwards. I've always been interested in what you Marines do for fun -- perhaps there's a little of the Prince of Pleasure in you, too?"

[Revanus]

Alpharius impassively returns Vivienne's gaze from beneath his power armor helm.

"You speak of fellowship and working together. In the spirit of alliance and a compact, the interrogation of the Warrior of Utari should be performed openly and freely, so that all who might wish to hear his answers may do so.

To insist on a private interrogation is to give rise to the impression that information is being censored and hidden."

[Glarx]

Vivienne nodded as he spoke. "Interesting point. Sadly, I don't care. You already tried to kill him once. Anyways, if you don't like it, go ahead and turn around, get off my ship. Enjoy the Warp Storm. I mean, if you had asked, I would have said yes. But no, you had to give it in the form of a command. I offered you shelter, transportation, and you can't even have the decency to ask?"

[Revanus]

"One does not ask permission for rights. The freedom to move about the ship and participate in the interrogation of a prisoner were both implied. You see offense where none was intended.

Still, if you would seek to deny such things to members of your 'compact,' there is nothing to differentiate us from the thralls aboard your ship, or the prisoner you are about to interrogate. If servitude is the only vein in which you will interact with others, a compact is impossible."

[Glarx]

The apostate tilted her head, looking at the Marine with some amount of incredulity. "How was participation in my conversation with Markus implied when I offered you the use of my ship? Anyways, it doesn't matter. Offense doesn't need to be intended for it to occur. Until the compact is formed, no one is a member of it. So that argument is moot, too." She rubbed her face, a few red lines following where her claws slid over her flesh, and Vivienne sighed.

"I disagree with Athine because I think this man is more useful alive than dead. I disagree with Mort because I think ornamentation is nice and proper, and enjoy the finer things in life. But you... my disagreements with you seem to be rooted in something far more curious. If you think I'm requiring you to serve me when I offer you things, then I don't think we're ever going to get along. Mort, when I offered you a room, was I attempting to make you into a servant? No? Have our interactions been one of master and slave? Have I secretly been coercing you into accepting a delightful room because of some desire to have you as a servant?

"Anyways, it doesn't matter. If you feel that way, go ahead and leave. Please."

[Revanus]

"Participation in an interrogation with Markus was implied when we, as a group, subdued him, and you--as an individual--suggested that we form a compact. I see no reason why my presence in a joint interrogation should ruffle your feathers.

Our disagreement stems from what you would seek to deny me--namely access to the information held by our prisoner. It is what you seek to withhold--what you fail to offer--that suggests you view our relationship as not one of equals.

It is my desire to participate in the interrogation of the prisoner. When I expressed it, you immediately took affront and sought to exclude me, when you could have just as easily agreed and welcomed my participation.

The nature of our relationship rests in your hands. As of yet, I am not your enemy. One should not make enemies of the Alpha Legion lightly."

[ArcturusV]

Markus, standing behind Vivienne, still open faced since she had removed his helm, smirked at Alpharius. He was hanging a bit too close to Vivienne, as near as he could without actually touching her wings. "We subdued?" he asked, his tone slightly mocking, "She... claimed me... what did you do? Fail badly at trying to shoot a helpless, downed target? A shame to the legend of all of us, and your vaunted legion?" He took a shuddering breath as he breathed deep the scent of Vivienne Verata, letting out a satisfied groan.

[Kaynebot]

Mort sighed at the ensuing confrontation. He was a jolly fellow and all but this infighting was sure getting on his nerves. He turned his head back to Giblets "Helmet" Giblets nodded and then climbed back up and put the helmet on Mort. Mort feeling the terminator suit seal, strode forward with loud heavy thumping. Emphasizing his presence and placing himself before Vivienne and the Alpha Legionnaire. Mort cleared his throat deeply, before speaking in a deep joyless tune. "Hey! Settle down. And you prisoner, are an asset you have no voice here." Mort voice was deep and harsh, "Now if we could act the uncivilized beings we are." Mort tacked a smile onto the last part, after all he can't not be jolly for long. Mort waited to see if either party would concede a little before Mort acted again.

[Revanus]

Alpharius inclines his head towards Mort with respect.

"Aye. Cooler heads should prevail. The prisoner is an asset and a divisive force--nothing more. He should be interrogated openly and soon, so that we all might benefit from his knowledge."

[Glarx]

"The only divisive force I see is you." She turned her head and ran her claw down Markus' armour. "Go with Kraskics, get that wound tended to." Vivienne's eyes turned towards the Alpha Legionnaire. "Unless medical attention is something I should invite everyone to witness?"

[Col.Straken]

Athine was glad of Mort's intervention, she knew any by her would have lead into further division. It was going to be hard to work alongside these two if they didn't settle difference and soon. "So we have agreed to all witness the questioning? I see no need to do it in private, and while you did subdue him, it would be helpful to all our ends if we attempted not to kill each other at every perceived slight."

[Glarx]

"In no way has that been agreed upon at all," Vivienne said, glowering at the Khornate. She put her palm to her face, careful to avoid the claws this time. "At this point I'm more inclined to throw the Alpha Legionnaire off my ship than acquiesce to his logical fallacies. But fine. Markus, let's get these questions out of the way immediately so I can go enjoy you after you're done getting patched up." She turned and looked expectantly at Athine, and then the Alpha Legionnaire.

[ArcturusV]

Markus smiled, not entirely sure what she meant by 'enjoy'... but only imagining that it had to be something quite special. He was split between the idea of having the little amorphous minion patch him up, and the orders to stay here and deal with the Alpha Marine and the others. His eyes shifting from Alpharius to Kraskics and back again as he weighed the pain in his chest and how battered and exhausted he was, versus the need to get this over with.

"What questions, Mistress?" he asked Vivienne softly, deciding that healing could wait.

[Kaynebot]

Mort chuckles. "Thank you Viv. Oh and that storage area you offered me. That isn't where your slaves stay is it?" Mort laughed and shrugged innocently, hopefully showing he was joking.

[Glarx]

Vivienne shrugged, leaning against Markus. "Whatever questions these fine people wanted to ask you. It's obvious they have burning questions in their minds, so I would hate to rob them of the opportunity to ask you whatever it is they're interested in. But answer honestly -- you know I'll be able to tell if you lie. And trust me..." She leaned forward and whispered something in Markus' ear.

"So! Alpha Legionnaire, please, the floor is open. What is it you wish to know from my darling little pet?"

[Revanus]

Alpharius nods to Athine, and then fixes his gaze on Markus.

"Warrior of Utari: What was the nature of your orders--Why did you travel so far across the wastes to attack petitioners to the Magos in his own keep?

Further, what is the nature of Clan Utari's grievance with the Magos and source of their opposition to him?

Additionally, what are the numbers and makeup of Clan Utari's forces and strength? What locations to they protect and hold dear? What are Clan Utari's weaknesses?

Finally, what do you know of the task Magos Tilmar has set before us?"

[Fremen]

The barren rock crunched softly under Alastyre's heavy boot as he reached the summit of the small peak, his ornate ancient bolter held casually in one hand, while in the other he hefted the bloody remains of what had once been an unfortunate human. His winged helmet, sporting polished white jawbones of some feral beast to create a daemon-like visage, was clipped to his belt, and his bald, pale head surveyed the world of Vara. Absent-mindedly he licked his lips, tasting the quickly drying blood and enjoying the calming taste of the last lingering bits of adrenaline. There wasn't much left. It never lasted long, and it had to be tasted quickly after the victim died. Or while they were alive.

With a gentle toss, the Night Lord threw the ruined body, much of its chest cavity little more than an empty shell, off the jagged peak, to fall and roll in the dust below. Alastyre didn't even watch it fall, or see where it landed. He didn't care. His black eyes had found something more interesting in the distance: a ship. And judging by where its crew had come, a ship which could prove useful.

Turning from the outcropping, Alastyre descended the rocks with deft leaps and controlled falls, quickly reaching the bottom. He unclipped his helmet, and donned it again, sealing his ghostly pale face behind the mask of terror. His armour was a walking trophy rack, sporting no less than three humans who had been mutilated and torn apart to create a walking grisly display. He was always careful to recreate his decorations of fear often, and slightly different every time, lest he get bored. Beneath the blood and bone was the deep midnight blue ceramite, cut only by bands of brass or the rare flash of white lightning; only his left pauldron was un-embellished by his fearful markings, instead being an object of fear itself, with a fanged skull screaming silently atop crimson wings.

Hefting his bolter across his chest, Alastyre looked back into the shadows cast by the rocky outcroppings of Vara. "Come Victroven," he said simply before turning back and setting out towards the ship.

[ArcturusV]

Markus had a sneer on his face as Alpharius started to interrogate him. His eyes flashed over towards Vivienne for a brief moment, as if checking the Childslayer for some secret sign before he proceeded.

"Well now... you ask a lot of stupid, and obvious, questions. You sure you need me here? I don't think you really do," he looked over to his Mistress, "... sure there isn't a grown up I can talk to? Someone who's head serves a purpose other than filling his helmet? No?"

Markus shrugged, "Well, your magnificence, your first question answers itself. Did it because that was the orders. Nothing more to it, nothing less. What did you expect? Some sort of grand monologue about how the Magos stole my favorite dancer away and shot my father before my very eyes? You've been watching a bit too many holovids, forgot what it was like operating in a real warband."

He shook his head at he second question, "Same old, same old I imagine. Power, influence, some slight of honor? Who knows. Just about anyone would take a shot at him if given a chance. Hell you can't tell me you all met him and didn't plan on trying to take him down yourself. Just the nature of the game."

At the third? He laughed, openly and hard as he considered it. "Well now apparently our weaknesses are beautiful women blessed with the grace of Slaanesh and the savage strength of Khorne themselves. Seemed like a pretty glaring weakness to me." To the rest he shrugged, "A lot would be the numbers. Not like we do damned roll call every day. People come, people leave, hardened core remains usually. Loyalties shift like the coming storms, plans change, fortunes change. Can't be this intractable, monolithic group like you seem to think we are. New recruit? Barely out of the legions dedicated to the False God? You seem to think like one."

"But in the end, I know you're going to fail most likely. You ain't got the chops for a frontal assault against anyone worth a damned. None of you can work together, you don't know a single thing about operating as an effective band. Hell you can't even manage to relax for 15 minutes without getting into a pissing contest. Any hardened Varian Warband is just gonna chew you up. Mistress is good, but I don't think even she could solo an entire warband on her own. Old Tilmar's got you all worked up, too busy figuring out how to get ahead to actually get anything done."

[Kaynebot]

Mort howled with laughter at the marines cocky answers. "Now we have to keep the kid around." Mort crossed his arms waiting for this show to continue on.

[Glarx]

"He's right," the Apostate said, nodding to Markus. "If we cannot work together we will not succeed. Tilmar is using us, that much is obvious. But sometimes, and it pains me to admit this, but sometimes it's worth it to be used so you get something out of the scenario, too. I don't expect any of you to trust me. Warp, I don't even expect any of you to like me. But I will get us the supplies we need to complete this assignment. That I hope you will trust.

"My ship has been offered to you all. I did that under no duress, without any coercion. It was offered out of a sense of camaraderie. If you don't trust me? If you think I plan to ensnare you, to turn you into slaves? I will endeavor to change that perception. I have no desire to enslave any of you. Well -- strictly speaking that's not true. I would so enjoy seeing a collar around Athine's neck..." Vivienne smiled at the Champion of Khorne for a moment before returning her attention to the matters at hand. "Anyways, let's continue asking the questions. Markus, be respectful. Even if you don't mean it. There's no reason to needlessly antagonize anyone."

[Tychris1]

Today was a glorious morning! Victroven felt like he was a feather, floating carelessly through the wind, at the mercy of air with nothing to stop his ascension! Oh how his heart pounded with excitement, the fresh air flowing through his veins! Victroven outstretched his arms, walking through a beautiful meadow, the woodland creatures gathering about to watch the hulking Night Lord frolic.

"Zip-a-dee-doo-dah! Zip-a-dee-day! My oh my what a wonderful day! Plenty of sunshine headed my way, Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-day!"

The Night Lord paused, looking down at a baby deer, curled up into a ball. The deer looked up at him, whimpering as it tilted its head. Victroven knelt down to the little creature, worried about what had happened to it. Reaching out with one of his lightning claws, he began to pet the woodland animal, cooing softly to it.

"Hey, hey there little fella. What's wrong? Did you lose your mother? Are you lost?"

The deer, heaving slightly, screamed out in the voice of a frightened man, not befitting a young dear.

"LISTEN I ALREADY TOLD YOU I'M NOT A CHILD, PLEASE LET ME GO, PLEASE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT. I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING I JUST WANT TO GO HO-"

Victroven frowned, patting the deer a few more times as his voice changed and mutated, turning into the voice of a scared 7 year old.

"I just want to go home mister. I'm scared."

The smile returned to the Night Lords face as he patted the Deer on the head, clasping both of his hands on its face and playfully smooshing it around.

"Don't you worry one bit, I'll find your mother. I promise. Come along little fella."

And with that the Night Lord picked up the Deer, and on wings of fire he flew into the sky. All the while he hummed, his head bouncing playfully from side to side, his free hand waving hello to the smiling sun who waved back.

"Good morning Victroven!"

"Good morning sun! Rising early for work I see?"

"Better to be early then late!

The two laughed as Victroven flew off, slowly landing back down in a forest clearing. All around the Night Lord was darkness, the shade from the trees casting a penumbra over Victroven and his friend. The deer looked about, afraid of the dark, whimpering all the while, but the Raptor did not share the same feelings.

"Don't worry buddy, there's nothing to fear from the dark. I live in it, and it's a great place. Trust me you'd love it, especially if you have special eyes like me! Hold on, I think I see your mother. Go little friend, go and be free!"

And with that Victroven released the Deer, watching as the furry beast exploded into a host of blue birds who flew into the trees and the forest, scattering to be free and unbound. Smiling, Victroven sat down and began to make a mud cale with some of the left over dirt. He giggled softly, his lightning claws crackling and hardening the mud before crushing it.

"Come Victroven,"

The sound pierced through the air, rumbling through Victroven's head, and reverberating through the land. The forests melted away, the grass withered and died, and the landscape reshaped itself. It was a dark concave, sheltered by the several outcroppings that dotted the landscape. Several stalactites and stalagmites had organs and innards roped around them, connected like a mad game of cats cradle. The blasted remains of a man splattered the rest of the hideaway, with the single figure that was Victroven staying relatively clean compared to his environment. Clutched within his gauntlets was a human head, orchestrated to act like a puppet.

Victroven looked down at the head, back to Alastyre, and then nodded as he tossed the head to the side. Picking himself up, the 4 heads impaled on his trophy rack spoke out in discordant unison, recognizing Alastyre's arrival. Rolling his shoulders, Victroven began to trundle forward.

"What did you find, brother?"

He asked curiously, his mouth still silently humming the tune from before.

"You really need to stop taking Obscura."
"Shut up."
"Fine, fine. Atleast we can get back to work....."

And with that he followed behind Alastyre, occasionally turning on his lightning claws just to listen to the crackle of power at his fingers.

[Fremen]

Victroven was humming. Again. Alastyre sighed softly to himself, but he didn't say anything. It was better than the screaming, or the mad bouts of shouted challenges and raving laughter. Sometimes he wondered what exactly his brother saw, but most of the time he was just thankful when it was quiet enough for him to hear himself think.

"What did you find, brother?" Victroven asked from behind him, his mind apparently focused enough for a question pertaining to the real world.

"A ship," Alastyre said brusquely, not bothering to elaborate. Assuming his company-brother was currently sane enough to handle a complete conversation, it was unlikely any lengthy explanation of what the pair were doing would have any lasting impact on Victroven's thoughts.

So he continued on, winding his way through the barren wasteland of Vara, his heavy tread crushing bones and stones with equal disinterest. Idly he licked his lips, trying in vain to taste any last vestiges of what he craved. Some part of him had hoped that this last victim would have been enough, but he doubted his need would ever really be fulfilled. Only sated from one moment to the next. Somewhere in there was a poetry, Alastyre knew, but he couldn't see the verses.

Glancing back at his mad brother, he wondered why Victroven constantly flicked his claws on and off. Nervous habit? Was it something that Victroven had to do, deep in his own mind? Did he even know what he was doing?

Alastyre sneered beneath his dark helmet. Sometimes he wondered if he should despair for his brother, or try to set him right. And sometimes he watched the carnage Victroven left in his wake, and wondered if sanity mattered at all. It hadn't mattered to their father...

Shaking his winged visage and turning back to the path ahead, Alastyre stepped brazenly from between the rocky pillars and into the clearing where the ship was berthed. There he stood still, in plain view, where anyone in the ship could see him plainly, and where he knew every sensor aboard would see him clearly. He held his bolter across his chest, but made no move to aim it, or to threaten anyone within the vessel.

"Come and stand here, brother. And stand still," Alastyre barked at Victroven over the comm they shared.

[Revanus]

If Alpharius is insulted, it doesn't show. Inclining his head towards Vivienne, he then returns his gaze towards Markus.

"Ignoring your bluster, you failed to answer my first question, Prisoner.

I know that you travelled a great distance, and killed some few petitioners before we arrived. I gleaned this information from the flesh of your dead comrades.

I ask again--what were your orders? Are we to understand that you and your companions were so undervalued as to simply be dispatched to perpetually sit outside of the Magos' fortress, or did your mission have some end or goal in sight?

Additionally, tell us all you know about the power structure of your warband. The commanders' names, histories, strengths, weaknesses--anything of note."

[Tychris1]

Victroven's humming came to an end, his mind wandering off before slamming back into reality, quite literally as he almost walked into Alastyre and has to use his heightened reflexes to backpedal in time and land on his appointed spot. The shock washed over his body, his eyes bouncing between Alastyre and the ship. His eyes began to hone in and focus, his monstrous helmet bobbing this way and that as he analyzed the ship. Eventually he stopped completely, his body focussed entirely on the ship, his hands resting to his sides with his lightning claws off. Quietly, he whispered back into the shared comm.

"Doesn't appear to be a warship of any kind. Not designed properly to be a freighter or cargo ship either. We stealing it to leave the planet or fly off somewhere? Or is it meant to be disguised and hold something important within? Victims to terrorize perhaps, considering there's not much else nearby."

His rational fraction squeezed it's way into the vocal chords, noting anything and everything it could while it still retained control.

"The hull doesn't appear to be too thick or protected, a melta bomb should be enough to get in. You breach the front, I take the top? Fill the control room with bolter rounds and extract what's left...."

His voice trailed off as his mind was chucked back into its corner, his voice losing the tactical edge it once had. He became as quiet as the dead of night, saying nothing, just looking at the ship with hungering eyes, gnashing teeth, and the lip smacking gaze of a predator.

[OOPWER]

The humming engine beneath him, a red armored figure soared over Tara's blasted surface, a servo-arm tucked behind his back. Sighting the docked in front of the Magos Tilmar's Fortress, the jetbike pulled to a halt and Martin Anders carefully pulled his hand off of the throttle and flexed it several times, as though testing it. His servoskull clicked out of its hidden compartment, and he engaged its message protocols.

"To Vivienne, Apostate of Slaanesh, and company. I am, I was Enginseer Martin Anders. Please accept my humble apologies for not approaching you in person, but my physical appearance is often cause for... concern.
By your exemplary demonstration of combat expertise and safe departure from Magos Tilmar's fortress, I feel that I can safely assume that you have knowledge of what he seeks. I would like to extend an offer of comradeship to you and those with you, which of course includes my own knowledge and services should they be required.

Send your reply with this servoskull, if it pleases you and your companions."

With a short burst of binary, Martin sent the servoskull on its way, message contained within its small databanks. Carefully landing his jetbike, he powered it down and carefully began his after flight examinations, muttering to himself, "One of these days I'm going to give you a worthy name."

[ArcturusV]

Oh, the things he might have said. But no. She told him not to. And he was quite beholden to follow her orders, as he always had. Well, always as measured by about the last hour of his life. He shifted his weight to his right foot and stared at Vivienne as if to ask "... really?" but he let out a little sigh and continued onwards with the 'interrogation'.

"To sit out there and put a fist in the face of people coming out of there. That would be our orders, up until people stopped showing up. No big secret to it beyond that. You go there, you do your job, you get your rewards." He smiled a bit at Vivienne as he said that last part.

Markus shrugged, "We're working for some skinny necked twerp out there. Cannot remember his name. Garvin? Melville? Yolonda? Eh... he's new, small guy like that probably won't survive the next storm..." he waved it off as unimportant, "Not much to look at. Think he would rupture a spleen even trying to lift a proper weapon. They say he is some sort of wunderkind. Dunno about that, but good at keeping stuff running. Never really cared to get to know him, long as he kept things flowing and gave us our orders. Very hands off sort of guy."

[Col.Straken]

Athine didn't see much point in Alpharius' questions, they just seemed to go round in circles. Surely there was only one of import, "Does Warband Utari have the device that was found in the polar bunkers?" she said it in an almost unconcerned voice, growing tired of standing around listening to two marines beat about how great they are and how weak others appear.

[ArcturusV]

"I don't think so," he answered Athine, giving her a little wink as someone finally asked a question he thought was worth a damned, "Can't say for certain. But I haven't ever seen it. And if he did have it, doubt he'd go around telling everyone he had it. Probably some game where he's just noting who comes after him. Anyone who does? They don't have it either. Just keep plugging away one by one until he uncovers the right rock. Well that and keep up the fighting so he doesn't end up with a blade in his back."

[Col.Straken]

Athine nods, her mind starting to work tactically again. "Makes sense, why waste manpower searching for something when you can bluff that you have it and see who calls that bluff. So what of Reikan, Highwind and Therat, have they all attempted to claim it from Utari or have one or more abstained from combat so far?" she had a feeling for how this 'interrogation' was going to go, all she had to do was ask the right questions. Finding the right questions was the hard part, and intimidation and threats were not going to work in any way from her guess.

[ArcturusV]

Markus gave Athine a wink and made a clicking noise with his tongue, "Give the girl a prize, we got a smart one here. Good to see your fell patron hasn't turned you into a frothing, mindless mongrel."

"Ain't seen any attacks from them. Haven't heard of any either. They're busy with their own little wars at the moment. You been around here, you know how it is lately. Just about everyone is attacking one of the four of us. If not multiples. My money would be on the plains though. Makes sense to me. Two big warbands are slugging it out with each other, rather than holding tight against the outsiders. Gotta be some reason they're going hard at one another."

[Col.Straken]

Athine rubbed her eyes, the marines constant mocking starting to wear on her, and he only really confirmed what she had already guessed and even stated when they all first met. "I still say that investigating the bunker and Warband Reiken would be the best option, they are either staying quiet as they have something to hide or are waiting for everyone else to weaken themselves. Either way, we either get the Device or disrupt them so they cannot threaten us at a later date."

She then looks at Marcus "I would watch your tone, while you have confirmed my initial thoughts, you haven't provided me with anything new, and it appears that fighting isn't your forte either. Be thankful that the Childslayer sees purpose for you as I cannot see any. finished with her questions, Athine waits to see if any of the others have something to add, perhaps she should introduce herself now they are working together.

[Glarx]

A sycophant came down the hallway and tapped Vivienne's leg. She bent down and listened to his message, before standing tall once more. "It would seem we have... additional company, everyone. My staff tells me there are two Traitor Astartes standing in broad view, and there's a servoskull with a message waiting for us. Now, I'm in favor of postponing the continuation of this group interrogation so we can all go and view these new individuals together. A momentarily delay won't hurt anything -- we have a fair amount of information already to chew on, and Markus can begin to receive rudimentary medicae attention while we take care of this fresh hell."

Vivienne looked around, giving a little smile.

[Col.Straken]

Athine nodded, "I have asked my questions, and received as much in answer as I expected. You can have your measly pet now.

[dupersudi]

A ship.... Interesting. Perhaps a container of valuable knowledge, it does look quite peculiar, especially for one on a Daemon World. "I ought to be careful in approaching this. Discretion is quite a valuable tool." Agamem states to no one in particular. "Am I talking to myself?! This could bode ill for my sanity. Perhaps I would get better if I found someone to talk to. Hrrrm, that settles it then to the ship!" Having declared that he sets off for about a dozen paces before stopping suddenly. "I almost forgot discretion, really now, I need to focus more. If I lose my mental faculties, well, am I still talking to myself!?" He shakes his head in disgust and pulls out his magnoculars from his backpack. Putting them to his eyes he thoroughly scans the hull of the ship and the surrounding area.


Awareness roll, aided by Auspex(+20) and using Magnoculars which don't seem to actually provide a bonus irritatingly.
[roll0] Perception is 30 +20 for Auspex=50



He then opens his mind to the ebb and flow of the Immaterium attempting to detect any fluctuations caused nearby.


Psyniscience check for any disturbances within 3 kilometers.
[roll1] Perception of 30

[Kaynebot]

Mort nodded. The interrogation wasn't as funny as before with Markus' attitude gone, and Mort didn't have anything else to ask. "I believe we should go say hi to these guests. Maybe we can 'ave some fun Giblets." Mort began walking back towards where he entered the ship, whistling an upbeat tune just because he could.

[Fremen]

Alastyre glanced back appreciatively at his brother. He often forgot that it was no mere simpleton trapped in the bone cage of its own skull, but rather a warrior born of Nostramo, every bit his equal. It was in the rare moments of lucidity that he would wonder what could be, if Victroven was of a single, saner mind.

Or if he wasn't cursed with his own hunger.

A hunger that preyed upon him even now. It wasn't his veins that called to him, nor his heart or mind; it was something else, something beyond. Snarling beneath his monstrous helm, Alastyre banished the gently waxing craving, and the introverted thoughts that often came with it.

"No, Victroven, it is more than a warship," he growled, turning back to face the decadent vessel, "More than prey. It is potential - something we could very much make use of."

[dupersudi]

Agamem begins murmuring to himself. "Space Marines. Interesting. I wonder if its their ship? Well only one way to find out." Reaching into the Immaterium he locates the Space Marines Warp Presence, and gently directs a few thoughts towards them.

Roll

Making a Fettered Focus Power Check to use thought sending on the two CSM
[roll0] Difficulty is base 65+40 for it being a simple test+10 for Psy-Focus and +15 for 1/2 Psy-Rating= target of 130...... Wow.


The Message for Night Lord CSMs only

"Hello Space Marines, I am Agamem, I would very much like to have a friendly discussion with you. Would you be so willing, or should I find someone else to speak with? To signal your willingness, please tap the left side of your helmet twice with your right hand."

[Glarx]

Servoskulls, space marines. Vivienne checked her helmet on her belt before walking off of the ship. "Get him repaired!" she shouted at Kraskics, who brought Markus away towards some hidden place in the ship. She strode out, wings extended, and made her way towards the pair of Night Lords. That seemed the wisest place to begin.

"Hello there, gentlemen," she began, "I couldn't help but notice you two out here, right before a Warp Storm began in earnest. That seems rather risky, don't you think? So I thought to myself -- why would two Astartes decide to simply stand in front of my ship, when they could have come around, could have knocked? And so it dawned on me -- you wanted to meet with me! Probably in an area where neither side had the advantage of terrain. Judging by your body language, you're not here to threaten me. Probably not from Utari, then, or any of the other rival clans. That's a great start. So, how can we help you?" She extended her arms out, gesturing to whoever was behind her -- probably Mort and Athine, but who knows?

[Kaynebot]

As Mort strode out, he grinned, wondering who they are were and if he would finally have some fun and "test" some people. Mort took up a position to the right of Viv and just slightly back from her, letting her take the lead. Giblets was standing behind Mort letting his master take the lead.

[Tychris1]

Victroven waa growing bored, a sign that Alastyre knew was never good. His true self began to slip away, desperately clinging to reality as his mouth dribbled on and he began to silently rant to himself.

"Why aren't my fingers in someones eyes right now. Why aren't my fingers in someones eyes right now. Why aren't my fingers in someones eyes right now! I can feel his blood festering on my skin, his scream cutting the air. The waves of the warp toss me about, battering against my mind AGAIN and AGAIN and I just need to learn how to surf!"

His head began to twitch little by little, until finally his attention was drawn to the ship opening up. Suddenly his interest was piqued, his mind wondering what tasty goodies laid within, and his mouth salivated every moment of it. He bobbed his head left and right as he watched two figures exit the ship, and his eyes began to focus on the first one.

"Well then...... That's a sight I could get used to ALL day. Maybe there is more to this ship then I thought."

He thought to himself as he watched Vivienne exit her ship. He raised his hand, slowly scratching the back of his head as his heads began to whisper amongst each other. They listed off a droning category of legions, warbands, and offshoots as he continued to study her. Still taking in his trusted decorations advice he waved a hand earnestly to the Slaaneshi Apostate.

"Hail battle brother! It's good to see a friendly face in this strange world! Though it's odd, I've seen all of the Legions, and yet I haven't met yours! Or maybe I have...... Hmmmm...."
"She's not a Space Marine."

Victroven began to walk forward a few steps, hunching a little as he looked over Vivienne's body. His head twisted this way and that, trying to discern any heraldry or signs on her body. His gaze finally stopped as he noticed her derriere. He slapped his palm against his face as he stood up quickly.

"Luna Wolves! Of course! Silly me. Or do you go by Black Legion? Sons of Horus? Your legion changes names too often. Also too many color changes. Hard to keep it all in my heads. Still always look nice in power armor. Oh, but silly silly me, I should know better!"
"She's NOT a Space Marine."

He waves one of his lightning clawed hands back to Alastyre, turning his head im the process.

"My name's Victroven, and that's Alastyre,"

He begins to turn back to Vivienne as he raises a claw and starts pointing at his trophy rack.

"That's Darius, Atrophos, Dante, Bertiel, and-"

His words suddenly drift away, as if the air was sucked out of his lungs, and his eyes fixate on Mort. He takes a step back, his hands lowered, and head tilted in curiosity. He continues walking back until he's next to Alastyre again, at which point he turns to his fellow Night Lord and "whispers" in what would better be called a low shout (Though he at least raises a hand to cover his mouthpiece between the Night Lords and the strangers).

"Alastyre, why is there a giant walking turtle next to the Luna Wolf. Does he speak?"

He quickly looked at Mort again, noticing Giblets in the process.

"And why does he have a green parakeet?"

He drops his hand, turning his head to Mort, not entirely sure if he can even communicate with the massive turtle and his pet Parakeet.

"Are you a pirate?"

"......... I really hope I don't pop a blood vessel when this all wraps up."

[Fremen]

Alastyre listened to the voice within, and cocked his head slightly, thinking over what was said. Considering his current endeavor, he saw no reason to refuse, and so nonchalantly tapped the side of his helmet twice.

Seeing the ship open and some of its occupants emerge, Alastyre quickly shifted his attentions. He drew a breath to speak, but before he uttered a word Victroven broke his silent sanity and proceeded to chitter madly at the ship's mistress and her hulking companion. Although he didn't shift an inch during the mental tirade, he rolled his black eyes in his helm while idly wondering if he could pinpoint triggers that set his brother off. It would be useful to rein in his madness from time to time. Or unleash it.

With the last outburst spoken, Alastyre took a single step forward, and spoke in his deep, raspy voice, "Hail from the Sons of the VIII Legion. We have watched you come this way from the magos's tower, and know of your task. We have also been sent to pursue the same end."

Beneath his terror mask, Alastyre smiled. "I think we would find each other... useful."

Quicklu and deftly switching from his vox speakers to the internal comms shared by brothers of their company, Alastyre hissed to Victroven, "Brother... shut up!"

[Glarx]

Vivienne watched the man look over her body, grinning as he arrived at various different terms. "Victroven, was it?" He amused her. That was good. Turning her attention to the saner one, Vivienne grinned and gave a little shrug with her wings. "The last time a group of Traitor Astartes tried to intercept us from Magos Tilmar's tower, it ended poorly for them. I prefer this tactic. The helpful tactic. My name is Vivienne Verata, and I agree... Alastyre, was it? I agree with your assessment that we could be useful for one another. But before we get too far into introductions, someone sent me a servoskull. You wouldn't happen to know who he was, would you? I would hate to get shot in the skull by a longlas. How anticlimactic!"

[dupersudi]

Seeing the signal Agamem began approaching the Night Lords, hesitating slightly when the other two power armored figures emerged from the ship. "More than I thought, but with a ship that size it makes sense that there are more than two. Well the more people the more likely they'll know something worth knowing."

He continues his approach until he is within conversing range. "Hello, I am Agamem, I contacted these two briefly and requested a peaceful discussion." He indicates towards the first two Space Marines. "Would any of you happen to have any sources of Sorcerous knowledge I could study? And barring that know where I could find any? And if you are completely clueless as to the location of any Sorcerous knowledge, could you kindly point me towards the nearest settlement." He thinks to himself for a moment. "Or gathering place, I suppose Daemonworlds wouldn't have much in the way of settlements. But imbibing inebriating liquids does seem to be universal in my experience, so surely there should be some sort of bar or tavern somewhere." After saying this he stands there, for a moment seemingly deep in thought.

He suddenly snaps back into reality, his focus narrowing on the female figure in power armor. "You aren't a Space Marine, are you? I was under the impression that it was a bit of a boys club."

[Col.Straken]

Athine had followed Vivienne to see what the new arrivals brought, but abstained from leaving the ship. Instead she stood just in the entrance with arms folded and watched as the Astartes gibbered and the clear Psyker appeared. Did they really need more aid, and by the insane and the Witch, the worst two kinds of people.

She made no effort to hide, but did not join in the conversations. She really should introduce herself, now was the perfect time but instead she just stood and watched.

[Glarx]

The approaching psyker had garnered Vivienne's attention as soon as she saw him. Her muscles tensed, eyes narrowed, but he seemed friendly. Perhaps a friend of Moraiik -- although that psyker seemed to have found his way elsewhere. Perhaps he was more interested in using the Warp Storm to fuel some ritual than he was in working with the warband. From the start of his introductory monologue, Vivienne had the tiny suspicion this one might be the same.

"In reverse order: no, of course I'm not an Astartes, Horus never let me join; the best amasec on this planet is probably found in my ship, although Tilmar might have a private reserve; the nearest settlement is directly--" she pointed towards where Tilmar's fortress was, "-- that way, we just came from there; the best place to study them is unknown to me, although this planet undoubtedly has reserves; yes, I have forbidden knowledge you could study; lovely, Agamen, a delight to meet you."

She looked around and took stock for a moment before returning her attention to the psyker. "Will that be all? Or have you also been sent to look for something by Magos Tilmar?"

[dupersudi]

As the female in power armor responds Agamem turns to face her fully. "This Magos is the fellow who can't manage to send a clear vox message correct? No I tend to avoid contact with most Techpriests, they get upset when I tell them the powers of the Immaterium are substantially more powerful than any mechanical apparatus and the relationship usually devolves from there." He smiles broadly and bows slightly. "The pleasure is mine, madam. I must say it is nice to encounter someone on this planet with manners, though I don't believe you mentioned your name. I would make but a single request of you madam, and that is that I be allowed to study this forbidden knowledge, such is my passion after all. If you would require payment for this, I'm sure we could work out a just recompense." Agamem seems to consider this a perfectly normal request, and shows no sign of fear or worry about the strange situation.

[Revanus]

Alpharius nods towards Athine.

"We needn't have asked the prisoner about the archeotech. It was clear from his answers to my questions that he was a low-level pawn--he didn't know why he was attacking petitioners and he hardly grasps his own warband's command structure. His warband was more of a rabble, and the prisoner wouldn't be privy to much internal information--as a matter of habit, I would have avoided mentioning our goals to him."

After a moment, Alpharius begins again. His tone sounds a bit more relaxed and friendly.

"Nevetheless, you have a good nose for interrogation. It was helpful to confirm that our target lies elseware. On the whole, well done."

After Vivienne leaves, Alpharius nods again to Athine. His voice sounds playful.

"I would hate for the proprietor of this ship to come to any harm. Perhaps we should join her outside--lest she accumulate a veritable coterie of craven Space Marines to do her bidding?"

With that, Alpharius exits the ship to join the discussion outside.

Rolls--Stealth Movement:
[roll0] vs. 70

[Glarx]

"A few things, Agamen. If you claim you wish to study forbidden knowledge, why wouldn't you want to learn more from the techpriests? They have a bevy of knowledge which is proscribed for normal consumption. Furthermore, forbidden by whom? I have little doubt the Great Masters of Chaos wish for us to learn of the past, of the truth. So is that forbidden knowledge any longer? And your single request is of extraordinary size, especially considering I do not possess any tomes of forbidden lore, merely memories of it.

"However, if you were to pledge yourself to the warband of which I am a member, I've no doubt we would be willing to allow you access to everything we come across... and I would happily regale you with whatever memories I could dredge out of my skull. Your thoughts?" She glanced over at the two Night Lords and gave them a smile, to reassure them that she hadn't forgotten about their presence.

[dupersudi]

His smile growing even wider Agamem begins approaching the armored woman, stopping a couple of feet from her and responds. "That sounds like an excellent proposition my dear lady. I accept. As to referring to knowledge of the Warp and Immaterium as forbidden, well honestly it adds a bit to the mystique. I of course don't consider it forbidden, though the majority of humanity probably does. Being the blind and ignorant sheep that they are. Techpriests, even those in the service of Chaos are a difficult sort to interact with. And honestly that Vox call sounded like a trap, if he is such a powerful and learned Heretek, he should be able to compensate for the Daemonworlds interference in his transmissions. And you never did share your name good lady."

[Glarx]

"Not unintentionally," she said with a grin. "As you say, I've no doubt Magos Tilmar could compensate for the disturbances if he so desired. But I think 'trap' is too strong a word -- test seems more fitting. But it's lovely to have you on board, Agamem. I am Lady Vivienne Verata, the Childslayer. There are some other titles that go along but that's mostly for official business."

[Tychris1]

Victroven whimpers slightly as Alastyre reprimands him to shut up as quickly as possible. His inner self is far from unwilling to do this, and the Night Lord drops down onto the ground butt first. Sitting awkwardly, he begins to cross his legs and continues to hum along his tune from before, willing to let Alastyre and the others handle the talking for now. Tracing his claw in the dirt, Victroven begins to draw several crude pictures, some of them odd, some of them childish, many of them violent and sick. Occasionally he crackles his claw, burning a bit of the earth in the process, his head scooting in to get a better look at burnt earth.

Aside from his occasional glance at the Turtle Pirate or Vivienne's posterior, Victroven seems completely detached, lost in his own world as he drifts off and begins mindlessly drawing swirls. He's only brought back to the fray when Vivienne turns to address the Night Lords with a smile, which invoked Victroven's best (Though incredibly awkward and somewhat of a failure) attempt at giving a thumbs up with lightning claws. Though afterwards he returns to his drawings, picking up his dropped song from before, though reciting it at a much lower volume. Almost whispering it.

""Zip-a-dee-doo-dah... Zip-a-dee-day.... My oh my what a wonderful day.... Plenty of sunshine headed my way, Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-day. Mr. Bluebirds on my shoulder........ It's the truth, it's actual. Everything is satisfactual......"

[Fremen]

"Warband," Alastyre mused aloud, ignoring the mutterings of his brother. "I believe I speak for Victroven as well when I stat that I am curious about such a warband."

He surveyed the steadily growing gathering around the ship. "Tell me, are there any others here as well?"

Rolling Awareness: [roll0] vs 70

[Kaynebot]

Mort deciding to make himself known as someone other than the apparent Viv's bodyguard, spoke up. "I am Mort the Plague Spreader!" He announced in a deep booming voice. "Nice to meet you." He said much quieter, and with a very prevalent jolly tone.

[Col.Straken]

Athine decided that now was as good a time as ever to introduce herself. She walked down the ramp and spoke as she approached the group. "I am Athine, I hold no titles and seek none, though some have taken to calling me favoured of Khorne. I hold no allegiance to him though I do not deny that he has smiled upon me as of late."

[Glarx]

"And there are a few more. A marine like yourselves, from the Alpha Legion. My son, Kraskics. My various servants." She cracked her back and smiled. "And we received a servoskull from someone else, so there may be one other. We had a psyker, Moraiik, but he seems to have wandered off. Probably trying to break the veil while the warp storm is happening. And there was a magos who certainly didn't look the part, although I'm unsure where she ended up..." Vivienne tapped a sharp claw against her lips, making sure that was everyone.

A fat little sycophant wobbled out of the ship, carrying the servoskull with him. He handed it to Vivienne and then bobbled back to the ship, unhappy about being in any area with a warp storm brewing. She looked into the skull, pondering for a moment, before replying into it. "To Enginseer Anders -- apology accepted. We can discuss the terms of our comradeship when you arrive. I look forward to it. Sincerely, Vivienne Verata." Then she turned and lobbed the servo-skull several meters into the air, helping it on its way.

[OOPWER]

SK-47 flounced through the air back to Anders, alighting before him and playing the Apostle's response. With a laugh he fired up his bike and gunned the throttle, landing in front of the assembled motley crew of fallen Astartes and falling humans.

Holding out his hands in a show of peace, Anders removed his helmet and revealed his twisted visage: skin the shade of steel and veins that pulsed with eerie and sickly yellow electricity. His left eye had been replaced with a cybernetic auspex, glinting red and blue as it scanned his environs and his right copied it in reverse order.

With a smile that revealed oil-black teeth, he said, "I am Martin Anders, former Enginseer."

[Glarx]

Vivienne smiled at him and bowed her head. "It's pleasant to meet you. Now, we have Agamem, the Psyker," she gestured to the psyker, "Alastyre and Victroven, Night Lords," she gestured to them, "Mort, Athine, and I am Vivienne. Somewhere there's an Alpha Legionnaire, but I'm not sure where he's gotten off to currently. Now, if it's all the same to you, I'd enjoy entering my vessel again before the Warp Storm comes in earnest. It seems wise that we avoid getting caught outdoors in such an event." She turned on her armored heel and proceeded back into the ship, beckoning the prospective warband back in with her. Not a command, just an invitation for shelter.

[Col.Straken]

Athine already at the entrance to the ship was the first to follow Vivienne, "Is it wise to invite a pair of madmen, and the others into your ship, you are too trusting of people. Especial those that claim to be an enemy turned ally."

[Glarx]

"I already let you all on, didn't I?" She laughed, shaking her head. "It isn't wise. You're definitely correct on that front. But it would be foolish to turn them away when we are already hemorrhaging potential allies. I know them just as well as I know any of you, after all. If they will help with the securing of Magos Tilmar's special item, then I welcome their assistance."

[dupersudi]

Looking at Enginseer Anders, Agamem remarks "Well this is a first for me, a Techpriest who looks at least partially Daemonic. I think I'll refer to you as a Daemontek. Are you more willing to accept the superiority of the Warp than your fellows? Or are you also fused to the idea that technology is more powerful?"

Following Vivienne as she moves onto the ship Agamem joins the conversation. "Who said anything about trust? I for one see no reason to begin trusting any of you, and any allegiances that we form will probably prove mercurial. The only thing that will keep us together, and from each others throats is the promise of a greater gain for us all so long as we work together. That or a threat we cannot surmount individually. Or both. And cautious utilization of wisdom is boring, audacity can get you so much more."

[Kaynebot]

Mort followed back up into the ship as well, no use to stand outside in a warp storm. "Well time for us to get all cozy in the ship I suppose." Mort laughed, although not quite as booming as usual, "Wouldn't want each other's throat to be too far away from grasp." His terminator armor stomping up the landing ramp not quiet at all.

[Tychris1]

Victroven looked around, sniffing the air silently as he clawed at the ground. He continued clawing into the ground, digging a small yet sizeable hole, and sticking his face in it. Twisting about, he yanked himself free, and noticed the sudden appearance of new faces. One of which, as he squinted his eyes to check her posterior, was a fellow Night Lord. He scratched his chin softly, quickly glancing back at Alastyre, and then to himself just to be sure. Assured in his deduction skills, he proceeded to raise his clawed foot to his head (An impressive feat of flexibility no doubt), scratch behind the ears before standing up and following the Giant Turtle. He bobbed his head softly, swaying left and right, and occasionally raised a talon as if to say something. Yet each time he remained silent, glancing at his Battle Brother each time. The fourth time he tried to do so, he merely gave up and tapped the Turtle on the shoulder before whispering.

"Do you want to play Tic-tac-toe?"

[Fremen]

Alastyre watched impassively as the congregation grew steadily in size, making mental notes of names, faces, and obvious strengths or flaws. At length he turned to follow the others in boarding the ship, walking purposefully behind his deranged brother. He kept a wary eye out for the Alpha Legionnaire, but failed to spot anything - another fact worth noting (it wasn't easy to hide from a Night Lord).

He overheard Victroven speaking with the plague terminator and rolled his black eyes beneath his lenses. "I wouldn't advise it, Plague Spreader," Alastyre's voice crackled from his grill. "Victroven's concepts of gaming are... irrational."

[Revanus]

Alpharius quietly strides back into the ship at the rear of the party, smiling silently to himself at Athine's comment from behind his power armor.

[Kaynebot]

Mort was going to this Victroven but such a.......odd question threw him off. Then to hear Alastyre, Mort burst out with his true booming bellow. "Everything about the lad seems irrational!" Mort kept chuckling, such an odd duo.

[Tychris1]

Victroven bobbed his head from side to side, humming yet another tune that bounced around in his head like a red rubber ball, and sliding his lightning claws off in the process.

THUD
THUD

He began to rummage through his bed, rather pleased that the Pretty Luna Wolf had managed to get him a room. With 6 walls and everything! The last room he lived in only had 5 walls and smelled like piss (But that was because it was the Black Library disguised as a cardboard box in an alleyway, those Eldar were clever, but not clever enough!). He finally procured what he was looking for, and pulled out three Lho sticks. He began to giggle manically, fiddling with his helmet as he tried to stick one of the sticks into his grill. Failing that, he merely opted to detach his helmet. Pleased, he stuck two of the sticks into his mouth, leaned up against his beanbag (Which for some reason had the label "Promethium" on it, probably a foreign company), and used one of his lightning claws as a lighter. And so he relaxed, slowly drifting away in his room, subsuming and silencing his inner mind and replacing it with a thousand more interesting ones.

"Huh....... Wait a minute..... Something's not right..."

Victroven looked around, trying to figure out what was wrong. Something smelt like it was burning. Looking down, Victroven spotted his own feet, and then noticed something far more sinister.

Someone replaced the floor with Lava.

Ninja flipping into the air, Victroven instinctively grabbed a hold of his two Lightning Claws and clutched them tight. Stowing them away in a safety grill, he darted back down and grabbed his helmet and barrel shaped bean bag chair. His feet positioned themselves against two walls near a corner, keeping him safely away from the Lava Ground. How could someone have stolen the ground from underneath his feet?...... Daemons..... Victroven snarled as he realized he was probably being screwed over by another Daemon. Scooting his way over to the door, he gripped the top of the door frame to keep his body aloft as he entered a kind of planking position to keep steady. Opening the door with one hand, Victroven looked at the ground outside of his room.

Rats, it was ALSO lava. Tilting his head he called out

"Alastyre! Pretty Lady! Green guy! Ugh.... The other green guy! Someone, help!"


1 Lho stick:[roll0] Hours
2nd Lho Stick:[roll1] Hours

[Glarx]

Vivienne's eyes were slightly more glowy (http://api.ning.com/files/sNPQ4igkbo0AQ3R6RzfWrN7wsNdmb2mX4HfBnzv*2dOEJwKdY4 GRC-0AEwLBiQR8DHaIoSBK5qJAdYVvFwHkwVVWteAD7ZhF/Zerg_Kerrigan_by_BlackSheep64.png) than they had been before the Warp Storm had come. Rubbing them with the backs of her clawed hands, the now unarmored apostate slinked through the ship to the screaming Night Lord's room. The door was open. She leaned her head in, looking up at the Space Marine propped up inside her ship.

"If you got stuck up there..."

[Tychris1]

Victroven looked down at Vivienne, tilting his head slightly as he looked into her glowing eyes. He continued to stare at them, entranced by her new shiny appearance and unarmored form. Looking down, he continued staring, though he did notice something interesting.

"The Black Legion really needs to work on their fitness schedule if this is the standard they're setting..."

He whispered to himself, continuing his uncomfortable staring, until finally he noticed the lava was leaking out. Holding out a hand he quickly warned her

"Don't come in!"

He leaned in a little closer as he looked around briefly to reassess his situation.

"The ground is made of lava. It's seeping out of the room and I don't know what to do. I'm not a plumber or a maid."

He looked down to Vivienne's feet and noticed it was getting dangerously close.

"LOOK OUT! Quick, get on my chair!"

And with that he grabbed a hold of his promethium barrel and laid it on the ground, motioning for her to save herself and not die a horrible sexy burning death. Relieved that he had help save a fellow Space Marine, Victroven released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Urgh.... Listen.... To......m-me....."
"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP."

He quickly pacified the irritating Jimminy Cricket that was his mind, and focussed himself back on the REALLY important things.

"Huh..... So...... This uh, big metal thingy is important right?..... Do we know if anyone has it? If I had a big nice metal thing I'd keep it nice and warm and safe..... So I'd eat it, but this thing's too big to be eaten right? So maybe it's in a garage somewhere?"

He scratched his head, trying to think of whether or not a sock drawer is big enough to hold an Archeotech Death Machine. Probably.

"Dumb gangs turned into red jelly before I could ask them about it. They were tasty though. Did you hear anything about it Pretty Lady, or did they turn into red jelly too?"

[Glarx]

To humor the psychotic child, Vivienne took to the air, hovering a few centimeters off the ground. She drifted into the room, wings extended ever so slightly but not actually moving. After all, they weren't exactly capable of getting her airborne! There wasn't any skin between the bony appendages! So she floated into the room, taking note of the barrel of promethium sloshing around. Judging by the rocking of the barrel after Victroven moved it, it probably wasn't a full drum. Those things could carry two hundred ten liters. That would require nearly one hundred sixty two kilograms of promethium, presuming Varan promethium adhered to the Imperial standard and average densities.

In his room, looking up at him stretched across the ceiling, Vivienne tilted her head to one side and sighed. "Thank you for the warning," she said, giving him a smile. "How lucky we are that there isn't any convection! You really saved my toes there. Thank you." He did ask a good question about this strange archeoteceh device that the Magos wanted, though.

"It seems likely that Clan Reikan has the target we're searching for, judging by the shipments of materiel they're currently making. They've ordered tanks from the Dark Mechanicus. Presumably they are doing this to secure an area without need for great maneuverability, removing the common reason that armored warfare isn't used extensively on the planet: namely, the difficult terrain. Digging in around a perimeter while one's explorators attempts to crack the machine spirit of such a mighty engine of ancient war, perhaps?" The apostate shrugged with her wings.

"They turned to red jelly, in a manner of speaking. Although I've got the most distinct feeling that it's a different manner of speaking from you. Did one of my sycophants give you any powders or liquors, by chance?"

[Tychris1]

Victroven shook his head left and right, then paused as he tried to regain his balance from the jerking motion, and swatted away an imaginary fly.

"No, your psychoelephants don't talk to me. It's ok, the light switch talks plenty."

He glared at the light switch in his room, rolling his head in annoyance as it begged for him to turn it on. In the far distance, the light switch in the bathroom began to yell at the first light switch, and a heated debate between the two of them ensued.

"So, they're camping out to dig the shiny thing from the earth? In.... metal boxes? Cowards.... fools... There are probably more of these Clan Reikan then us....."

Victroven held out a hand and began counting, just to be sure.

Six, Q, Seven, Eight. Eight. Eight of us, and probably..... twenty of them. Hmmmm..... If I had to sit down and dig a really shiny thing, I wouldn't move away from it...... Unless someone blew up another of my shiny things,"

And with that Victroven pointed a finger at his explosive bean bag chair

"We find what they really, REALLY, like. We go there, and while they're all busy playing musical chairs in metal boxes...."

Victroven released his grip and acted out someone jumping away from an explosion.

"BOOM TIME!"

THUD

Victroven dropped face first against the ground. He laid still for a moment, and then rapidly spasmed out of control.

"OH GODS I'M DYING! I'm too young to die! I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO DO! I NEVER LEARNED HOW TO KNIT! OR KILL A BLOODTHIRSTER! Urgh.... argh..... tell Alastyre....... to not touch any of my stuff, or I'll haunt him..."

Victroven threw his arms up to the sky, flailing wildly about as he was presumabely being sucked into lava. eventually his flaling stopped, and he laid motionless. Slowly, Victroven turned his head, and then looked at the ground. Wiping his head, he grunted.

"Oh..... It's just quick sand! I'm saved!"

Standing up, Victroven sat down on his bed and seemingly forgot the entire thing.

"Then the Clan has to make a choice. Save the shiny thing we try to take, or stay and protect the shiny thing they try and dig. If they leave, we go in and take it! If they don't leave, we take what we boom boomed, and then go to another shiny thing and try to take it again!"

Victroven raised his hand behind his head and made two bunny ears inbetween his massive bat ears.

"Metal boxes like turtles. Slow, dumb, and shoot fire from eyes. We act like bunny, run around turtle, and murder all the turtles money."

Victroven dropped his hands to his side, shrugging in the process.

"Or we burn turtle with big bomb, scare and scatter the turtles extended family with a firey holocaust, and crash their wedding while punching through the bouncers to get straight to the candy the Magos wants."

[dupersudi]

His research disturbed by Victroven's bellowing, Agamem decides to leave his room and see what it all the noise is about.

Still wearing his light carapace armor he walks to Victroven's room. Stretching out his senses into the warp as he makes the short journey.
Psyniscience

[roll0] Perception of 30

Coming to the room he sees the Night Lord sitting on his bed and Vivienne hovering off the ground as well as the barrel of Promethium rolling about on the floor. "Shouldn't that Promethium be secured before it destroys the ship? And what is with all the shouting Victroven? Is something amiss?" Noticing Vivienne's wings for the first time he moves closer to her staring curiously at them. "Those are some interesting wings Vivienne, one wonders how you acquired them."

[Glarx]

"Taking the promethium away from the slightly delusional Night Lord while I'm not in my armour and he is... that wasn't exactly on my to-do list, no." She turned her attention over to the man, tilting her head the other way. "Nothing is amiss that I can tell, other than his fractured psyche. Apparently the floor was made of lava, or perhaps quicksand. As for your plan, Victroven," Vivienne's head moved over to the Astartes. "It's certainly a working plan. I'm sure the Alpha Legionnaire will be interested in hearing it. Once everyone's returned and woken up, I hope to gather us together and collate our information and efforts. But as a chassis, I think that plan will be more than adequate."

Finally, Vivienne returned her eyes to Agamem. "These old things? They sprouted out of me roughly around the time I was earning my sobriquet."

[dupersudi]

"What interesting gifts, though I imagine it must get quite uncomfortable in armor, as well as making you even more memorable." Agamem Looks at the wings for a few moments longer before turning towards Victroven. "Victroven would you be willing to put the Promethium in a more secure place such as the armory? We wouldn't want you tripping over the barrel after all."

[Col.Straken]

Athine had been walking the halls trying to digest the information she had overheard and coaxed out of people, it was still an open guess for who really had the machine. Focusing her mind she decided that clan Reikan was still the best place to start, shame she couldn't get that Bolter she saw, the damn merchant was more interested in talking about the Clan Wars, not to much end either.

She came across the group gathering at Victroven's room and overheard the discussion about information and promethium "Hmm, that promethium will be useful for raiding the Reikan's base of operations. Which I think is still a place to start looking, they aren't bringing in weapons and troops, which means one of two things... They are trying to stay low profile while they research the object, or they are trying to find out who has the machine. Either way, we can grab the machine, or grab their intelligence."

She completely ignored Agamem and Victroven, not particularly trusting them, even less than Vivienne, who she had a smoldering of respect for.

[Kaynebot]

Mort heard the huge fuss of noise, from presumably Victroven. Stomping up his way to the bedroom, not actually trying to stomp but the tda armor makes it tough to walk quiet. Calling out he yells "What the 'ell is going on up 'ere!?"

[OOPWER]

Leaving his implant to calculate the new ammunition requirements, factoring in his recently "acquired" M-34, Martin reaches the mad Nightlord's room in time to join the discussion.

I've developments of my own. The bunker, based on these poor images I found, is ancient.

Since we already knew that, I did my best to identify the vehicle itself. It is very likely a cousin of the standard Baneblade, and it seems uncorrupted by any fools trying to 'upgrade' its systems.

The knowledge it could contain..." his voice faded a moment before whispering, "priceless."


I edited it to make the color fit properly.

[Glarx]

"What interesting gifts, though I imagine it must get quite uncomfortable in armor, as well as making you even more memorable." Agamem Looks at the wings for a few moments longer before turning towards Victroven. "Victroven would you be willing to put the Promethium in a more secure place such as the armory? We wouldn't want you tripping over the barrel after all."Vivienne smiled and shook her head. "My armour has been made to accommodate me. It's really quite comfortable." She appreciated Agamem's direct approach concerning the promethium. Of course, a psyker might be able to hold his own against a Night Lord. Without her armour on, Vivienne didn't care to take the chance.


Athine had been walking the halls trying to digest the information she had overheard and coaxed out of people, it was still an open guess for who really had the machine. Focusing her mind she decided that clan Reikan was still the best place to start, shame she couldn't get that Bolter she saw, the damn merchant was more interested in talking about the Clan Wars, not to much end either.

She came across the group gathering at Victroven's room and overheard the discussion about information and promethium "Hmm, that promethium will be useful for raiding the Reikan's base of operations. Which I think is still a place to start looking, they aren't bringing in weapons and troops, which means one of two things... They are trying to stay low profile while they research the object, or they are trying to find out who has the machine. Either way, we can grab the machine, or grab their intelligence."

She completely ignored Agamem and Victroven, not particularly trusting them, even less than Vivienne, who she had a smoldering of respect for.I agree with that assessment. It dovetails nicely with what I was able to learn. And the promethium could certainly prove an interesting asset for the raid." Vivienne smiled at the Khornate renegade, mentally measuring Athine's neck circumference.


Mort heard the huge fuss of noise, from presumably Victroven. Stomping up his way to the bedroom, not actually trying to stomp but the tda armor makes it tough to walk quiet. Calling out he yells "What the 'ell is going on up 'ere!?""Nothing much, darling grandson of Nurgle. Merely a bad reaction to some lho sticks. Nothing to worry about. Did you come across any information? At present, the consensus is that Clan Reikan is the most likely holder of the archeotech death machine dearest Magos Tilmar is interested in. Any data that could reaffirm that faith would be quite delectable."


Leaving his implant to calculate the new ammunition requirements, factoring in his recently "acquired" M-34, Martin reaches the mad Nightlord's room in time to join the discussion.

I've developments of my own. The bunker, based on these poor images I found, is ancient.

Since we already knew that, I did my best to identify the vehicle itself. It is very likely a cousin of the standard Baneblade, and it seems uncorrupted by any fools trying to 'upgrade' its systems.

The knowledge it could contain..." his voice faded a moment before whispering, "priceless.""Then it sounds like something the Magos would be interested in -- and something we might wish to study for ourselves before turning it over to the strongest man on Vara. I wonder whether or not we should give him the blueprints to this device... a few alterations might be, how would I put this... prudent? Regardless, such things can be considered if and when we have breached the compound. Has everyone performed all they need to while we're here? If we're ready, I will let my pilots know and we can get underway."

[Tychris1]

Victroven scratched the back of his head, slowly looking to the door as he heard the sound of the Giant Turtle.

"Huh.... Giant Turtle is awake, and so is red lady...... Where's Alastyre?"

Curling up into a ball, he sits in place and listens to the conversation around him. He clutched his head, shaking back and forth as his mind was assaulted with migraines upon migraines. The world around him began to blur and twist, becoming a twisted parody of itself. The bony wings from Viviennes back extended out and encased Victroven in a bird cage. He watched in abject horror as his legs dwindled away and he turned into a bat.

He frantically fluttered about, screeching and pulling on the bars over and over again to no avail. As he stopped his resisting, he rested and looked around him. Snorting and sneering before him was a massive female Bloodthirster, speaking curses in a tongue Victroven could not understand. Behind her was the constantly mutating form of a flamer of tzeentch, cradling his precious barrel bean bag chair in its warp flame infested mouth. The bloodthirster stopped insulting Victroven long enough to turn around and punch the Flamer in the face. Just as she did, a massive turtle snuck around the corner and peered into the room. Upon its head was a long top hat with a monocle attached to it with a gold chain. Flies erupted from his mouth as he spouted out a stream of words so complex and aristocratic as to put any Planetary Governor to shame, his body mutating to look like that of a Plaguebearer. Victroven retreated further and further into his cage, until finally he shut his eyes and covered his face with his wings.

The noise of the violence slowly died down, instead replaced with a massive rumbling sound. Opening his eyes, Victroven looked behind him just in timento see a massive Baneblade smash through the wall. The Daemons turned to it just in time for the Bloodthirster to get shot in the face with a massive shell, and pulverize its way through the rest of them. With soft trodden steps, a shrouded figure wearing a commissar's hat began to walk out of the Baneblade. How a Baneblade had snuck its way behind them all puzzled Victroven, and he screeched out in his high pitched voice to try and get a better look.

"But to do that would take a tactical genius.... Cre-"

And with that he snapped back into reality, dragged into sanity with a montage of images flashing in his head, each of them hammering his brain like a lightning bolt. Pictures of legions, Astartes, grand battles, massive space cruisers, Primarchs, and Baneblades. His head thumped, the earthquake of his mind rumbling his very being, and through it his cage shattered and he crawled out frantically.

Pulling one of his hands free, Victroven stood tall and proud, his demeanor changing in an instant as he suddenly took on a more composed form. He still held his head in one hand, holding it in place as if in pain, and when he spoke it sounded desperate, hurt, and yet well composed and all together more sinister.

"A baneblade? What's such a precious relic like that doing on a planet like this...... Must have been here for ages.... This changes quite a bit....."

He turns his head to Vivienne, rocking back and forth slowly as his right shoulder jerked violently every couple of seconds.

"What if... What if instead of giving it to the Magos we take it for ourselves? We fly in, sneak in, drive in, whatever, doesn't matter. And then we detonate the bomb. Fire, mayhem, pandemonium, complete and utter ANARCHY sets in. Fear spreads throughout the gore soaked field as screams pierce the air like broken and crushed sirens against the crags, such sweet sweet terrorfocus Victroven and in the midst of it all two Night Lords leap and pounce about. Moving quickly, avoiding fights, spreading delightful agony, and detonating any tank that still survives. One little static generator and some more well timed interference and then...."

Victroven stopped jerking his shoulder as he began to get a bit of a grip on himself, instead he began to wheeze softly, fighting to get air as his body actively resisted every word that came out of his mouth, his fractured mind ranting and raging to reclaim what it deserves.

"And then someone like you steps in with someone like her,"

And with that he flicked his head to indicate Athine

"Instill a bit of order, break a few necks, slot a few throats, ooooooh yeeeeess the sweet sweet smell of it allGET BACK INSIDE and you two take command. I've seen your little marine, heard how he acts, break them like you broke him. Their spirits crushed, their morale shattered, their souls shaken. Give them what they crave, pit them against each other and fuel the ROARING BLOODY INFERNO,"

Victroven stopped, clamping his hand harshly against his grill to keep himself quiet. Fighting his left hand with his right hand, he unmuffled himself and continued.

"And then? Oh and then the fun really starts. If this things really so deep and protected, and if its really a Baneblade, then the holding pit for it will be immense. Labyrinthian. We go in, amidst the carnage and chaos, and we get to work. We butcher anyone in there, clean it out, and let those two,"

And with that he playfully tilted his head to indicate Agamen and Martin

"To work on getting our hands on the Baneblade. We buy them time. They may have numbers, but we have a tactical dreadnought. Get him in the facility and occupy key points so that they can't ignore him and bypass him. Boobytrap the whole place with whatever we can, force them to move slowly, cautiously, like mice in a field of rat traps. Pick off and skirmish with any squads sent in, recruit whoever survives. Take the Bane-box and break the Clan with it. Use it to take out the other Clans, and then roll into the techy mans fort and kill him too! AND THEN WE KILL EVERYTHING!"

Victroven began to laugh hysterically as he lost his grip and divulged into mania once again, rocking back and forth as if in a fevered dream, jerking his head around, and only breaking his laughter with a single grumble.

"My brain..... Hurts.... Leave the smarty things.... To Alastyre..."

And with that he rolled himself into his bed, pulled the sheets over his body, and wrapped himself up as best he could.

"I'm a caterpillar, and now I'm a cocoon!"

[dupersudi]

Agamem stares at Victroven, "How interesting, but you never answered me Victroven. Would you mind putting the barrel in a more secure place? As for your plan lets call it plan E, for explosion."

He turns to look at the gathered group. "It seems most of us are now here, I managed little in the time since joining, even on a Daemonworld people aren't overly fond of my kind." He smiles slightly. "But it seems like there are what, four major powers on this planet? Some warbands and the good Magos? And we believe that this Clan Reikan has the Baneblade correct? I think our course of action should be to usurp this warband rather than destroy the warband and steal one tank, no matter how ancient and powerful this tank is."
With this his smile widens to the point you can see the tips of his teeth, and a slight glow emanating from behind them. "After all, if we go and take the Baneblade, and deliver it to the good Magos, what do we get? Trinkets? Ranks in his inner circle? For delivering to him what seems to be the most sought after SYMBOL OF POWER ON THIS PLANET!?"
He takes a moment to compose himself. "My apologies, I do get a little enthusiastic at times. My plan is rather simple, we usurp the leadership of Clan Reikan through guile or the PROPER application of force, absorb the other warbands into it, depose the Magos, seize his facilities, preferably intact, unify this world under us, and then spread our reign throughout the stars. Though of course we would have to change the name, Reikan is just a horrible name. And we should do that right after acquiring it, before it starts to stick."

[Kaynebot]

Mort nods at Viv's explanation, and just kind of stares at the insane Night Lord. Listening to the conversation Mort puts forth his idea, "I 'ave 'eards bits and pieces of info that suggest Clan Reiken has the machine. What else I've 'eard is about our Magos. Simply put, 'es been power for awhile. On a planet thats always at war that means he has some kind of advantage. Taking him out won't be easy, I suggest we rot him from the inside." Mort went silent for a few seconds thinking deeply before waving the idea off, "Anyways I suggest we start our progress to acquiring the machine"

[Revanus]

Victroven's noise draws Alpharius away from the common room and towards the informal congress of heretics.

However, rather than volunteer information, Alpharius is content to simply listen and observe for the moment.

[Col.Straken]

Athine shrugs, ignoring most of the gathered group, "Well I would say it is settled then, we make haste for Clan Riekan and the bunker."

[Glarx]

"It's near the southern magnetic pole of Vara. I don't believe I have the exact coordinates. If everyone is ready?" Vivienne looked around the area, looking at Alpharius. She tilted her head to the side, glowing eyes narrowed.

"What is your name, again?"

[Col.Straken]

"The exact co-ordinates shouldn't be too hard to acquire, we could always make a pass over the rough area before finding a place to set down and approach by land."

[OOPWER]

"I am ready."

[ArcturusV]

Later after Alpharius gives a Fake Name

It wasn't hard to spot the place from low orbit flight and detailed augur scans. Between the information you all got and shared, it seemed obvious. A Dark Mechanicus ship in orbit near the southern pole, the signs of lighters transferring from it down to a fortified area below.

Despite the fact that Tilmar, and others, had called it a "Bunker", when you got eyes on the place it just didn't seem to be a fitting term. The "bunker" was a mammoth sized structure on the face of Vara. It may have at one point been an underground base, from the look of things. The central building was among the remains of what was likely a towering mountain in the ages before, flattened and shattered by a titanic amount of firepower on a scale that was seldom seen in the Imperium, nestled as it was between the scale of Titans and Cyclonic Torpedoes.

The rear half of the bunker was collapsed and damaged in whatever recent bombardment had befallen the area, a scattering of stones and rubble. But even just half intact the bunker looked to measure 4 km, by 6 km, by .5 km, roughly. The around around it had recently been built up, among the shattered remains of the mountain, outside of the ancient fortification was relatively new construction of prefabricated buildings, recently cleared roads and newly constructed, more man sized "bunkers" defending the open approaches to the bunker. Even a few anti-voidcraft defense batteries scattered around the ramshackle camp that had sprung up here.

Your quick spot and survey really shows 3 obvious approaches to take as you map out the area. You could touch down further along the mountain chain, and come in on a rough country path over the peaks to avoid most of the defenses. Or you could try to frontal approach, landing on the lowlands and coming right down the pipe and smash faces. Also the augurs picked up a tunnel network that might provide a back door, though results are inconclusive.

[dupersudi]

Looking at the others gathered. "I believe that at least some of us should attempt a more personable approach from the front. Should that fail however... I believe that going over the mountain peaks would be better than going underground."

Agamem then looks towards the bunker and sends his Psychic senses towards it looking for signs of Psychic activity.

Psyniscience
[roll0] Looking for a 30 or less.

[OOPWER]

Looking through the ship's auspex and his own, Martin tried an admiring whistle.

"Much larger than I'd thought."