| Latest revision |
Your text |
| Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| | [[Between_the_Darkness|Back to Between the Darkness]] | | [[Between_the_Darkness|Back to Between the Darkness]] |
| − | ==[[Atella Ummidia]]'s Introduction== | + | ==Atella Ummidia's Introduction== |
| − | ''Tylorva'' There has been an utterly WILD party to celebrate someone's promotion to Proctor.
| |
| − | How much does Atella drink?
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' probably quite a lot
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' bad memories and all that
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' first there was dancing
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' then drinking
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' she vaguely remembers 'stripsearching' a man and two women
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' doing bodyshots off... two? people
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' spanking... someone? maybe?
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' kissing people?
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' it's all a blur
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' there was a LOT of drinking
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' so probably a lot more happened
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' she just doesn't remember
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' So the usual party activities keep Atella busy for quite some time.
| |
| − | For as much as she can remember anyway. The morning after comes.
| |
| − | Only something immediately feels off. You open your eyes to find yourself in a dark room with a single bright light shining down straight at you.
| |
| − | When you try to move you can't - you're strapped down to the table.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Hey! What's this? This isn't funny! Gaia? Is this your idea of a joke?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' There is no response.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Come on, guys! I'm sorry for whatever I did last night!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' The silence continues for the next hour or so...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' gives up yelling after about 15 minutes
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' struggles a few times, but if it's obvious she's not going anywhere,
| |
| − | she'll stop that too
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' Eventually the door slides open, and a figure slides in.
| |
| − | It looks like some kind of tech-adept but is draped in black robes rather than the standard red ones.
| |
| − | A vicious-looking mechadendrite hovers over its head as it approaches the table.
| |
| − | ++ Identify ++ it says in a mechanical voice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I am regulator Ummidia of the Emperor's Arbites.
| |
| − | Whoever you are, you are making a BIG mistake keeping me here like this!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Release me at once!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ We know ho you are ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Then why have you tied me up here?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ Why not? ++ The mechandendrite hovers over your body holding a very sharp-looking needle.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "If you do anything to me, the Emperor's wrath will rain down on you! My friends are probably looking for me already!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ They are not. ++ The tech-adept buzzes for a moment. ++ You are in the hands of the Inquisition. Compliance is recommended. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "What?! Why?! Is this that piece of drek Adexa's doing?! I have done nothing wrong!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ Everyone is guilty of something. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Okay, so I've bent procedure here and there, but it was all for the emperor! I never broke the Lex Imperialis!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ The Inquisition is unconcerned with such matters. Speak of the man at the party. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Man? What man? Enforcer Barak?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ No. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Who then? Seriously, you're going to have to help me out here. Everyone knows I forget when I drink, and I drank a lot"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ Your mind will be unlocked. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "That sounds... ominous"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ And then it will be cleansed. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "What? I have done *nothing* wrong!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I am not some heretic criminal!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ That is for us to judge. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Are you even really the inquisition?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' The tech-adept flips open a panel on its arm and the seal of the Inquisition appears above it glowing brightly. ++ Yes ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Fine, you are one. I still have no idea who you're talking about. Why are you asking me questions about 'a man' at the party?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ He is a heretic ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I still have no idea who you're talking about. Help me out here."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ His name is Janus Sand. He seduced you by showing a seal of the Inquisition. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "What? I don't remember anything like that."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ The amount of intoxication in your blood stream reflects this statement. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "The only men I remember talking to or doing things to, were also arbites... well, and women too"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ So you do remember the events of the party? ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "up until a certain point, yes"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ So how can you say with certainty that this did not happen? ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Well, for one, I really don't like inquisitors, so I doubt I'd have given him the time of day, even if I was intoxicated. No offense."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ This is mere speculation. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Look, if you know who I am, you know my history with inquisitors. You guys are not my favorite people."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ This is irrelevant. You memory will be returned. ++ The needle on the mechadendrite starts zooming closer and closer to your right eye...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' starts screaming and thrashing against her restraints. "Keep that thing away from me! I mean it! I'll shove it where the sun doesn't shine!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella's''' voice cuts off as she almost drowns in her own vomit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ You have no choice... ++
| |
| − | Despite Atella's best efforts, she is firmly strapped down, and she thankfully blanks out as the needle pierces through her eye and into her brain.
| |
| − | When she wakes up an unknown amount of time later, she's has a horribly pounding headache and her eye is completely bloodshot giving her vision a reddish tone,
| |
| − | but she does now remember the events of the party.
| |
| − | She did indeed leave with a man named Janus Sand, who did indeed show an Inquisition seal.
| |
| − | At the time she thought it was ever so funny...
| |
| − | Drink does that to you.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I... remember now... What about him? He was a good lay, then he left..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ He is a heretic. Your body is tainted with the fluids of heresy. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' ...
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "So I'll wash it out or something, take some pills."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ Your presence is completed. Your mind will be cleansed and
| |
| − | re-programmed to the service of the God-Emperor. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "What?! I already serve the god-emperor! You're NOT taking my mind!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ This is not for you to decide. ++
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I'll fight you! Damn you! Let me out of these restraints!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' ++ No. ++ The tech-adept sweeps out of the room, leaving Atella alone again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' screams invective after him
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' There is silence.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' rages on for a while longer, then falls silent.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' tries her bonds once more
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' A good couple of hours pass before the door slides open again.
| |
| − | This time it is three people, all dressed in identical grey robes.
| |
| − | Even you can feel the hum of the warp coming off them. Psykers.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "You stay the hell away from me!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' They all speak, each one saying one word in the sentence and taking turns.
| |
| − | "Judgement" "Has" "Been" "Passed". "Cleansing" "Is" "To" "Begin"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Don't you dare!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' struggles against her bonds again
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "Do" "Not" "Resist". "Resistance" "Is" "Pain".
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Pain? You'll feel real pain when I get out of this!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "You" "Will" "Feel" "Nothing" "After" "This"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Tempting as that sounds, thanks but no thanks!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' They come closer, surrounding her, each placing deathly cold spindly fingers on the side of her head.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' shakes her head
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' screams "don't touch me!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' Their grasp tightens.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Damn you! Let me go! Don't do this!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "You" "Will" "Be" "Silent".
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' You find yourself unable to open your mouth.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Mmmm!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' They return to what they were doing.
| |
| − | Gradually your consciousness flees.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' You awaken, your head pounding.
| |
| − | But your memories seem to be intact.
| |
| − | You are in a different room and are no longer strapped to the table.
| |
| − | Instead you are on a cold rockcrete floor. A tall man in ornate carapace is standing over you.
| |
| − | "It seems it is your lucky day." he says very coldly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "What... Who are you? What happened? I thought you bastards were going to wipe me"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "If you do not want that to happen, I suggest you show some respect. You are currently live on the whim of my mistress only."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "You abduct me out of my bed, leave me strapped to that table for hours, stick stuff in my *brain*, try to wipe my *mind* and you want *respect*?
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Respect is something you earn"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' glares up at the man
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' He scowls. "I am an Interrogator in the Emperor's Holy Inquisition.
| |
| − | Respect is something I get. And if you want to live longer than the next 30 seconds..."
| |
| − | He cocks his bolt pistol, pointing it at your head. "... I suggest you show it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' mutters some not so nice words under her breath
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Fine... sir. Who is your mistress?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "That's better." He lowers his weapon. For now. "My mistress is Inquisitor Vika Shaeye."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' shrugs
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I'm sorry, am I supposed to know who that is?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "Do you have reason to?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "well... she got me here"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "You should thank her for it. If it were up to me, you'd be fully mind-scrubbed by now."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "So... when do I get to meet my benefactor then?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I mean, she 'rescued' me for a reason, right?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "SHE thinks you can be useful to her. Can you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' (Atella knows her intimidation. This is a classic. Atella's not impressed ;)
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' (( He's not even trying, yet. ;) ))
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I dunno, what does she think I can do for her?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I'm assuming she doesn't want me to warm her bed... or does she?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' He cocks his pistol again. This time he looks like he *really* means it.
| |
| − | "You have ten seconds. Nice... eight..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' sighs
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Fine, I'm sorry."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I'm sorry I insulted your inquisitor. I'm sure she's very nice and would never want me to warm her bed"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Just... don't shoot me, okay? She wants me for something, doesn't she?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "Display attitude again I will shoot you." (( You believe him. ))
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Fine, okay, I believe you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "My mistress wants to know what skills you can offer her."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' mutters something that might sound like "didn't she save me because she knew all that already?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' He turns to leave. "The psykers will returns shortly to cleans your mind."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' *louder* "I'm a regulator. I can drive ground vehicles. I can investigate things like no-one else. I can track suspects."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "People like me... well, usually, you don't seem to"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "Your files state that you killed your brother and his wife for being heretics."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "... I did. What of it?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "My Inquisitor commends you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "This is the only reason why your memories are intact."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "Well... I'll thank her when I see her"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "Ensure that you do. Lady Vika Shaeye... is a person to stay on the right side of. If you wish to live, that is."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "So... now what happens?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "can I at least get up off the floor?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' He gives you a long gaze. Then nods.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' clambers to her feet with some difficulty
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "You will not return to the Arbites. Your previous life is over.
| |
| − | You are now in the employ of Inquisitor Vika Shaeye.
| |
| − | Serve her well and your future will be prosperous.
| |
| − | Fail her and you'll seen have a bolt shell in your head.
| |
| − | Do you understand me?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "... yes. Will my friends, my... mother... be notified?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "They will be notified that you will not be returning."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "well, that's something I guess"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "so... are we off to see the lady? Or should I freshen up first?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' "You will be working with others. You will meet them soon.
| |
| − | I suggest you clean yourself up."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Atella'' "I'd love to... where?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' He leads you out of the room and points at another door.
| |
| − | Inside is a small bathroom with a shower.
| |
| − | Inquisition-issue soap is provided.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' takes a relaxing shower, insofar that's possible
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Tylorva'' When you come out, it seems some clean clothes have been provided.
| |
| − | Nothing fancy - just a plain shirt, jacket and breeches.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' dresses
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' looks around
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' thinks "now what"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Atella''' tries the door
| |
| | | | |
| | ==Mercutio Hastus' Introduction== | | ==Mercutio Hastus' Introduction== |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: It's been a normal kind of day-cycle down in the underhives. It's dark, it's grim, you've stumbled across multiple corpses and have shot a couple of mutants. Corpse starch stew for dinner. Suddenly, one of the gang members - a young kid named Rafe comes hurrying in. "There's a bust coming!" he says, pretty much out of breath. "And it's a bad one!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Hastus straightens up, all attention. "How do you know? Are those Enforcers? Looking for something specific?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "Not enforcers..." he says, shuddering. "I... don't know what they are. Want to come see?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Mercution frowns, looking unsure for the moment. "Lead." he finally utters, making sure all the 'ware on him and loaded.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: Rafe leads you into the warrenous tunnels of the underhive and to a known vantage point. There's a huge amount of noise ahead - shouting, shooting, screams. "That way..." says Rafe.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Making sure, that the guy follows - and always stays in sight - Hastus proceeded carefully, trying to stay out of sight and with potential cover at the arms length - if not hugging it tightly.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: You shuffle as close as you dare to see what is going on. And peer over the edge. A large number of a heavily armoured troops seem to be rounding people up, led by a tall man in carapace armour. All of them have a symbol on their armour: =I=
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: The reaction is immediate. Whomever you may be, wherever you grew up, it was not difficult to recognize the symbol. (At least, I assume it to be so) Hastus feels his falm and forehead starting to sweat. Brushed with death every day and night, as hard as it to distinguish between those in the depths of the underhive, would never make a man prepared to see the most ominous of sights.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: Rafe doesn't seem to know what it means. "Who are they? What do they want?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Be silent - and get down." older hiver hisses. For that's exactly, what he is trying to determine. He continues to watch.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: The troopers correl the hapless underhivers into one space and the leaders stalks past, his arms tucked behind his back. "Why are you shielding Kirian?" he asks. "To do so is to bring down your own doom as co-conspirators." You've heard of Kirian. He's a member of your gang, an unsanctioned psyker. But a good man, one devoted to the cause.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Kirian. All of this - for one wyrd? Hastus didn't know, if it was common for Inquisition to arrange such a show for a single psyker - how would anyone know at all such a thing? He tried to remember anything else about Kriran, what could possibly be of interest to the Emperor's Left Hand.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: (That is, what do I know about this one? Was he born there? Escaped from up-hive? Evaded Black Ships intentionaly?)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: (And, last but no least, where he is currently?)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( You know he ran away, evading the Black Ships. He's always refused to speak of his past though, but he speaks with a fairly posh accent. And he's currently back with the rest of your gang. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: Eventually one of the terrified underhivers points in the location of Mercution's gang hideout.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Oh, frak." Hastus backs down from his hiding place. "Run forward" he grabs the kid by the arm. "Make everyone dissapear. Cavern half-way to the Bulge, with the scaly sceleton. Understood?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: Rafe looks up with wide eyes, but seems to understand the severity of the thrat if not the threat itself. He turns without a word and hurries off to carry out the order. Meanwhile the Inquisition force start gunning down the correlled underhivers.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Hastus looks over his shoulder, his eyes wide. "He... He frakking told them! The hell they didn't like?!" he shouted - or he would, if he wasn't afraid of discovery or simply too shocked at the sudden turn of events. It came out barely audible. Spitting on the ground, he darts off to make sure the passages to the meeting place are safe - from mutants or other gangers.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Give me a Silent Move roll with +20 ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: (Considering, I don't have Silent Move and it's Basic, I'll be doing with a 38 target number)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Go for it. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( You were good. They were better. ;) ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: ((Well, they ARE Inquisition))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: Mercution slips away silently, but the leader's head suddenly flips around. "Movement!" he yells. "Track them down!" Suddenly, you have several heavily armed Inquisition troops on your tail...
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: (Well, time for a route change. Can he remember any of the latter mutie activity in the vicinity? Routes frequented by them, to lead pursuers into them? Or just to try and evade them in the caverns? Something to roll for Navigation (Surface) most likely.)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Make a roll. You can have +20 as you known the area. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Ok, now give me an opposed agility roll. You can have +20 due to the succeeded navigation. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: You dart into the tunnels trying desperately to lose your pursuers. You use all your area knowledge to try and surprised them, but it's fruitless. For a moment you think you have shaken them, only to come out of a tunnel straight into a group of them pointing guns at you. "Surrender in the name of the Inquisition."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Hastus stops suddenly, but instead of dropping the weapon or raising hands or any other of the usual acts, demonstrating surrender, he frantically and fearfully looks around - at the dark corners, over his shoulder, twisting as if every shadow is out to get him.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "You don't understand! Mutants are crawling out, twists are following me! They used the chaos to infiltrate the town, surround the commune - all the old tunnels are opened!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: ((Something like Blather test? Or Deceive?))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Either works. Go with what you are best at. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: Several of the troopers seem to fall for it, but the tall man's stony gaze does not break. "Do not try and lie to me," he says. "I am Interrogator Reinhardt. You are under arrest."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Mercution meets the agent's gaze and, after a moment, drops the act. His shotgun falls down, he doesn't bother with autopistol - reaching for it might as well provoke them. Collected and silent, he lifts his hands in the air.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: You are quickly shackled up and dragged away for questioning. Several hours later you find yourself in the Tricorn Palace itself. You are dragged into an interrogation room and chained down into a chair. Interrogator Reinhardt appears soon after. He peers at you. "Name?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: No reason to lie by now. "Mercution Hastus".
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "What is your connection to the heretic known as Kirian?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "To the _ganger_ known as Kirian - he was a mutant killer. Like me." Pitiful words-juggling on his part. Hard to drop the habit.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "What do you know of his past?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Up-hiver? Strange accent." he presumed and explained.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "Why did you protect him?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Underhive. Unless it's a turf war or dire resource shortage, better to rely on people around. And as far as culling twists go, he pulled his weight."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "More than that. Was the only one who could kill twist-wyrds."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "He is a wanted heretic. Each psyker he killed contributed to his unholy goals."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Lack of knowledge is no excuse" repeated, somewhat awkwardly and in his own words, but just a bit to eagerly Mercution. "But had this acutally reached the Underhive, someone would've got him. We have bounty hunters down there."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "We have been tracking him for some time. Unfortunately, your efforts caused him to go into hiding, delaying us significantly. He is still on the loose as we speak. And you are correct. Innocence proves nothing. You are guilty of aiding and abetting a wanted heretic."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Hastus clutched his face and fallen silent. It was, again, pretty much inconsequential, whether he believed the Interrogator or not. There was an ingrained, even in one such as him, an underhiver, idea, that Ordos are without fault, inscrutable and immaculate. Almost omniscient.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: But just recently he saw their forces gunning down the whole population of a small town, the same "disproportional" retaliation.
| |
| − | Tylorva: "However, in light of your record, my mistress has felt beneficent."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: So, it didn't matter that much, whether that one, Kirian, was such innocent or guilty. In a way, Hastus betrayed his own logic on an impulse.
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Hastus remained silent, just his hands on his skull now threatened to squeeze the brains out.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "You are to be given the chance to clean up the mess you have caused. Bring Kirian to us, and you sins will be considered cleansed."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "I..." his voice was rasp. He coughed. "I will do as ordered." He straightened up with a crack and looked clear before him.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: "Good. You will be working with others. They have their own task to complete. Assist them with theirs and they will assist you with yours. Perform well and your future will be a good one. Fail, and your mind will be repurposed for good. Do you understand?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Clearly." He said plainly, supressing the ridiculous "my lord". Quite possibly, the man before him ould read his face as a book - or his mind, as the case may be. He still tried not to show anything, if only for his own comfort.
| |
| | | | |
| | ==Clavis Morden's Introduction== | | ==Clavis Morden's Introduction== |
| Line 649: |
Line 207: |
| | Tylorva: (( Ooh, yeah directly after, but they do remove the psy-blocker. The Interrogator seems to trust that you are not going to explode in daemonhost right now. )) | | Tylorva: (( Ooh, yeah directly after, but they do remove the psy-blocker. The Interrogator seems to trust that you are not going to explode in daemonhost right now. )) |
| | =All together now= | | =All together now= |
| − | Tylorva: Each of you are escorted through the dark halls of the Tricorn, a place that most can only ever have nightmares about let alone the thought of actually walking inside it. You are hurried along until you reach a solid-looking door. The guard pulls open the door and you are thrust into a small dark room. There are no windows. The light comes from a single swinging bulb in the ceiling. A single metal table is bolted in place in the middle of the room, and several metal chairs surround it. The three of you are pushed into here and left to talk.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella looks at the others
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "You all guests of the Lady too?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella shrugs and takes a chair
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden is a young woman of small statue, no more than 1.55m tall, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes behind duralumin-rimmed spectacles. She is clad in worn grey robes and seems to lack somewhere to put her hands, nervously folding one into the other. She has cried just recently and still seems equal parts terrified and determined.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: Mercution sits down, the chair grinds on the floor irritatinly, as underhiver pulls it. He is silent and just a little pale. Finally, he talks. "Guest" is not an... metaphor in your case?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "I ..." Slowly and carefully Clavis sits down. "I have been given a second chance."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella is a striking, tall woman approaching her 30s with long straight black hair and green eyes. She is wearing a plain shirt, jacket and breeches.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well... I'm hers now, apparently. It was either that or a bolt through the head."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella turns to Clavis_Morden
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden nods, lost for a moment in thoughts of what her own fate might have been. Then she shakes her head. "You are ... Regulator Atella Ummidia, I take it?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "You've heard of me?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "What did you do? Sleep with a heretic you shouldn't have?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "What? No!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus coughs somewhat surprised at the question
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden is taken aback at such a strange and insulting question
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Nothing so perverse. I ... failed in my duties." She sighs. "Whether that is better or worse is for Him on Earth to decide, though."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "And yes, I have heard of you. From Interrogator Reinhardt ... and before that, as well."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Oh. Huh. Didn't know I was famous outside the garrison."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: As Mercution never heard of either of the women, he listens, trying to absorb as much as possible, before inevitable introduction follows.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "No, uhh." Clavis blushes slightly. "I spoke to a few enforcers who helped out at an Arbites function."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Oh. Whatever you heard was probably exaggerated."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: Mercution_Hastus: "And you, man? What did you do to end up here?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Didn't know enough", he replies.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella shrugs
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "So we all know who I am. Who are you two?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Probably," Clavis admits. She shakes her head as if to get rid off that thought. "Where are my manners, though?" Hesitatingly as if not believing that Atella will shake it she offers her hand. "My name is Clavis Morden. Rank of Aspirant, Adeptus Astra Telepathica Calixis."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella hesitates a split second, then takes the hand and shakes it.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden looks surprised but then smiles
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Pleasure to meet you, Clavis."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella looks at the man
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Mercution Hastus. Just a..." he hesitates. "From an Underhive. " He isn't sure what to do. Looking at his hands, covered in grime and blood, he prefers not to shake anyone's else. He looks apologetically.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well... the lady's got ecclectic taste, that's for sure."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Or ... or simply knows to pick the right instruments. Ones that are properly motivated."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: She smiles grimly. "I know I am."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Hey, I liked my old life. Sure, it had some stuff I'd rather have changed, but it was *my* life."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella plucks at her nondescript clothes
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: One of Atella's eyes is red with blood.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: (it is)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "I wonder when we'll get to meet our new mistress"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "I have made a mistake. It must be rectified. Even without my ... mind on the line that would be deeply motivating."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well... lucky for you."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden falls silent, giving the other woman a doubtful look
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "I just met the wrong guy, apparently."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "A witch," Clavis nods.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "A heretic, or so they say."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella shrugs
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "I hardly remember."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Didn't, until they did... things"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: raises a hand to her eye and lets it drop again
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "A witch and a heretic..." mused silently Hastus. "Talking about mistakes... "Met the wrong guy". I preached a logic, based all my later years on it - and then I betrayed it on a petty ganger code." he suddenly revealed, bitterly.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden suppresses a shudder. Machines and other techno-sorcery no doubt.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Ganger, huh."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella looks Mercution_Hastus up and down
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden looks at the Underhiver frankly. "What are you going to do about it? Do you have a task as well, a penance?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Should be obvious to you - you are an arbitrator, after all. Are you from here? From up-hive?" he asked, a little more interest in his voice, when he mentioned Adeptus Arbites. "If you like, call it a "penace". But yes, there is something I must do."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Born and raised in the garrison."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Any of you ever heard of our new boss?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden shakes her head. "She must be ... an Inquisitor? Who ever 'hears' of people like that?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well... I punched one in the eye once. Does that count?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Gotta admit I'd never heard of this Vika Shaeye either though"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella shrugs
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "I'm sure we'll meet her soon. I mean, she has to have kept us for *something*, right?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Shaeye." he repeats, then shakes his head. "But from what I gathered, she is... forgiving. Didn't expect."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden just stares as Atella claims to have *punched* an Inquisitor. No, it has to be a tall tale, she decides a moment later. A revenge delusion after being subjected to the machines, yes, that must be it.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella turns to Clavis
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Ah, nothing," she waves one hand and smiles confusedly.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "What, you don't believe me? Ask our new boss. Or that guy that works for her. The one with no sense of humour."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "The one without ... What, they have humour rations over at the Adeptus Arbites?" She raises an eyebrow. "Damn, we must be getting left out again."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: The continues wild claims she politely fails to address.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "What, the Arbites? We're regular party animals. Well, were, I guess."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella pats her non-existent shockmaul at her hip
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Mmmh. That explains why there's nothing left over for the others, I guess." She shrugs. "In any case, I wasn't in the mood for humour at the time so I wouldn't know."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "What, you never got to have fun over where you were?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Ok, that joke fell flat on its face. Too early for jokes, I guess. No. It's just that having no sense of humor is a widespread ailment."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "You do mean Interrogator Reinhardt though, right?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Oh. I'm sorry. I'm still... a bit out of it. I dunno, the guy never told me his name. Tall, wears a carapace, NICE bolter."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Doesn't knock before breaking down the door. That's him, yes."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "That's him, the Interrogator. I'm actually glad, that he was far more perceptive, than his troops. If not for him, they would've never caught me."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden gives the Underhiver a questioning look
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "I don't know about any doors or troops. I was abducted from my bed, and I only saw him when I woke up here for the... second time."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Unlikely I would've been spared otherwise - if they caught me later. And by ending up here, I may not only do their jobs for them - but also got a chance to get out of this hell-hole".
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Well, not this." he looks around, even though there is nothing but gray walls and simplistic furniture. "Underhive, I mean."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Heh. Speaking of hellholes, I wonder where we are."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: Clavis grins, faintly horrified. "The ..." she lowers her voice a little. "Tricorn, I believe."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella goes quiet.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Oh".
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Wonder how long we're supposed to wait here..."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Come to think of it... Maybe I was there before. Not that I'll recognize anything, if that's the case."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden is quiet for a bit
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "So," she says finally. "There's a witch out there, loose somewhere in Hive Sibellus. He needs to be found."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "He does? Huh. Maybe that's why she wants me..."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Finding criminals and heretics is what you do for a living, isn't it?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella sort of, yes
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Do you know the name of the witch? Or his description?" Hastus frowns.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "uh"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "I don't know his name but I know what he looks like."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "If this witch is the same guy I slept with, he told me his name was Janus Sand"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Of course, he also said he was an inquisitor, so..."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus describes the gang-member, he knows as Kirian in a few brief sentences.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: ((what *does* he look like?))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( It doesn't sound like the same person ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden describes the man she met that pretended to be an Interrogator
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Janus Sand / The man Clavis dealt with was short and a bit on the weedy side with a mop of tousled brown hair and a friendly smile. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: describes the 'Inquisitor', in great detail
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Yes, yes, that's him!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Tylorva: (( Kirian is tall, thin, long nose - noble-looking, pale with straggly long black hair. ))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Not that Kirian guy, Sand. He has an inquisition seal of some sort, too. A real one, but it doesn't belong to him."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Huh. So who's the other guy?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Probably took it off the murdered Interrogator Alcoth." Clavis clenches her fists. "I had him, had him secure, and then I let him go. Damn him."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Wanted heretic, from Interrogator's words. I just know, that he is a psyker."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden frowns. "Two rogue psykers? Are they in any way connected?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Don't look at me, I was too drunk to even remember at first"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Another thing, that Reinhardt let slip... or just infromed me. That every psyker this Kirian killed "contributed to his goals." "Unholy goals", even."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella frowns
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "He killed psykers? Imperial, sanctioned psykers? Or other rogues and heretics?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Wyrds, mutants with psyker powers - unsanctioned, naturally. Sure, we could usually drop one if we caight them unaware - but it was his job dealing with them in most skirmishes."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella gets up and starts pacing the room
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden folds her hands a look of concentration now in her eyes. "That is not good ... that is not good at all. Were or are there many such Wyrds? How many did he kill?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "This sounds... bad"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "Of course it is. That there are even enough witches that escape the Adeptus to be known to the gangs and mutants down there is terrible."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella gets defensive
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Hey, we do our best"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "... did, I guess... this is going to take some getting used to"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "I couldn't say, how much we killed during those years, that he was down there. What he was doing and whom he hunted _before_ he got down? I have no idea."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden looks thoughtful. "I wonder what the Astropathicus has been told about my ... situation. If anything."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well... I know my... mother... and friends have been told I wouldn't be coming back"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "That does sound kind of ominous tho"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "It does," Clavis agrees.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "It won't matter though, unless we can answer this question: In either case, how do we find them?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "In Sand's case I know where he was ... several hours ago."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well... we have descriptions. We know where they have been. It's just a question of tracing their paths..."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "So do I... although I have no idea how many hours ago"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Yes, I have something of a trace of Kirian. THe place, where he was supposed to be going - but I doubt he is there anymore. Or even arrived there at all, as was ordered."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Well, that's something."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Of course, the longer they keep us waiting here, the colder the trail gets..."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella kicks the wall
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden sighs. "Even so that's like finding one a white rat in the underdecks."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella shrugs
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "It's what I do"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "All the albino rats your heart desires down there, in the darkness..." Hastus chukled.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "You ... well, if you know how to start, I can show you where."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella bangs on the door
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "Some of the people he was with at the moment - we may talk to them. But that would be the question of finding another bunch of rats, ones supremely skilled at hiding. If any of them are alive, of course."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: ((I don't think we're actually locked in or anything?))
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: (don't want to go walking around outside)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: (I've already been threatened a few times today ;)
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "I guess the question then is ... whom do we look for first? Sand has the shorter lead, we have better chances there, I think."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Yes."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "If we ever get out of here, that is."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella bangs on the door again
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Mercution_Hastus: "But the Kirian's track already gone cold. No loss here, it would seem, if we deal with the Sand first."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clavis_Morden: "It's decided then! Let's go and find the heretic." Clavis stands up, finding new energy despite the hard day.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Atella: "Let's"
| |
