Black Crusade IC

[Henry the 57th]

After the cheering dies down, Akaduros begins speaking again.

"Brothers, I suppose you must be wondering why we hired you for a secretive mission while offering to pay you so well? Well, here is your answer: we have a group of apostate heretics on our hands."

There's actually a mild amount of surprised chatter from the crowd. It's hard to believe any Word Bearer would betray the Legion.

Eventually, Akaduros raises his hands for silence again. "Yes brothers, I know. It shocks me to the core that any would betray the blessed Legion of Lorgar as well. But nonetheless it has happened. The traitors speak unimaginable blasphemies about Holy Lorgar, and about the revered leaders of our Legion, the Dark Council. Thus, we have no choice but to discipline them." He chuckles darkly. "That's where you come in. The renegades are great in number and power, and the Legion does not have enough loyal forces in the area to ensure victory in an acceptable period of time. Thus, we are prepared to pay you well for your assistance in putting down the apostates. As a token of my honesty, after my speech here you may at any time visit cargo bays 3 and 4, where a fine feast of blood and souls await any who desire it. You are free to make use of these facilities at any time throughout our journey. Our journey should take perhaps 4 days. On the third day, you will be called as groups for tactical briefings and assignment. One last thing," he clears his throat "Any questions?"

[watupwithdat]

Setesh had questions. But none he'd ask here among everyone else, as he felt that would diminish knowing the answers. He wondered what the reason for such a large quantity, as it sounded like, would splinter off from the Word Bearers. His mind pondered over possibilities. An artifact? Xenos brainwashing device? Archeotech? Mass reprogramming? Though he did not know of any telepath powerful enough for such a feat, especially not on the fanatical Word Bearers. In any case, it must be something worth knowing. And perhaps possessing. And that made Setesh very interested in lending his powers for this task, as just monetary or material gains seldom convinced him to do so.

[Lucretia]

Zasz had resisted the urge to cheer, to be silent -- all of the impulses that were not his own. He had taken in the information, compiling it in his brain, thinking about the plan at hand. Apostates, they had been called. Questions, though... did the elderly Nurgleim have any questions? None that he could think of at the moment. There would be time enough to ask questions during the 'group' phase in three days. No, for now there was nothing but to see who on the ship knew of him, and who would be willing to offer him bullets. He hadn't brought along any gigantic cases of bullets, much to his chagrin. No, Zasz would need to investigate the armory and the veritable army of traders that could be found in the underbellies of most of these vessels. Flea markets of sorts -- often more literally so when on a vessel belonging to the Grandfather of Plagues -- tended to crop up when so many disparate forces converged.

Zasz made sure Katria was nearby. It wouldn't do to have her get lost or taken.

[Donan]

Katria on the other hand, is transformed into something of a ball of energy at Zasz's side, dancing up and down a little and clapping her hands as she cheers. The movement causes her robe to flow open briefly, revealing carapace armour beneath it, and the hint of a sword on either hip.

She asks no questions, but murmers to Zasz. "It's good for us, yes? Much to see and learn, and gain."

[Elurindel]

Slathissin grins, showing off a set of perfectly white teeth. It seemed it would always be a constant that humanity would fight itself, and where there was fighting there would always be need for fear. He had always despised the Word bearers craving for approval in the eyes of omniscient and ever-absent father figures, but where there was faith there was always somebody with more wealth than they deserved. And here was an excellent opportunity to help them part with it without having to twist their heads off.
He pushed a space clear free of those around him, his camo cowl forming a pool of shadow across his pale Nostraman features.
"The thing of relevance is not how many, but where they are. Name the nest of these maggots that vex you so, great Apostle." he lowers his head respectfully. Even though he had no respect for their insecurity through faith it was wise to keep in the good graces of one's employer.

[Henry the 57th]

Akaduros tilts his head towards Slathissin. "An excellent question, brother. They are based upon a planet discovered and claimed by the Legion. It is called Darvon III."

[Elurindel]

(Assuming we don't have CL: Vortex as standard, and that Slathissin has not heard of the world...)

The Night Lord nods once. "Thank you, Apostle. I would rather not further this congress with additional prattle of the mission..." and not give other, less-deserving heretics more of a fighting chance, he thought to himself. "...so how might we go about collating more information about this world?" he asks. He would learn everything he could about this place and the task at hand, as was their way during the Great Crusade in bringing worlds into compliance, so was their way now.

[Henry the 57th]

"You will be given the information you need to know when the time is... appropriate."

[Elurindel]

He nods, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He did not agree with what he saw as the Apostle's duplicitous nature, nor did he understand why the Legion needed help uprooting a nest of vipers amongst a world it counted as its lambs. Still, a job was a job.
"As you wish, Apostle. Which way to the mortal morsels?" he asked. As soon as he found the table, he would see if any were still living, and check which, if any were natives to Darvon III, so he interrogate some information from them, or if all else failed, he would feast upon their flesh and extract their memories that way.

[Henry the 57th]

Akaduros chuckles darkly and points at a door on the right side. "That way, brother. Feel free to make use of them as soon as we're done here." He looks back towards the crowd. "Any further questions?"

One of the World Eaters, surprisingly enough, speaks up. "You mentioned an "acceptable amount of time". Tell me, what makes a greater amount unacceptable? What are they going to do?"

"We cannot tolerate their heresy to spread to others amongst these stars."

"Very well."

"Anyone else?"

This time it is a member of an unaligned band who steps forward. "And what exactly is this heresy they speak?"

Akaduros' voice noticeably darkens. "That is... A Legion matter. Your only concern tips that we want them dead, and will pay well for it. Anyone else?"

No one speaks up.

"Then dismissed, brothers." He turns around and begins walking back towards the tunnel he came out of.

[watupwithdat]

This was quite uninformative. he thought to himself. The bulk of the information needed were to be had at this "group meeting" in three days, he felt.

As the people in the room seemed to disperse after the Apostle declared the gathering over, Setesh looks down upon Katria. "Where to now little girl?" he asked her, curious as to what kind of reply he'd get. He found her behaviour strangely amusing. Perhaps it was the same reason Zasz seemed to like her so also.

[Donan]

She smiled up at Setesh, tilting her head in thought. "Do you think any of the slaves can run? It's not good if they all just want to sit around. I'm not sure where to go, but I like exploring the ship."

[watupwithdat]

"I am sure the Word Bearers have all their slaves in chains." he replied. "Just like they have chained themselves to their word of Lorgar" he continued with his vox slightly lowered as to not draw attention from too easily offended Word Bearers. He assumed Katria wouldn't understand what exactly he was refering to, as a little girl would probably not know too much about the practices of different Legions. However he felt there was more to this mortal than meets the eye.

"Then shall we explore, Zasz?" now looking at the terminator-clad Death Guard at the side of Katria, who would probably object to Setesh deciding things for his protégé.

[Lucretia]

"I wouldn't dream of stopping little Katria from having her fun. I myself am interested in finding their armories, or perhaps any market. Perhaps I might find them in the underhulls, or about the slavepens."

He stretched a little and looked about for the tiny human before heading to attempt to find the market and slavery.

[Donan]

The little human nods in quiet agreement. "Markets are nice. Lots of things to see and to take." She smiles. "And I'll like talking to the slaves too, they always have lots of stories."

[watupwithdat]

"I doubt whatever market this vessel houses might have a trinket I would be looking for, but I suppose it would not hurt to find out." he said as he slightly moved his hand as to illustrate Zasz or Katria lead the way. It would be more practical for him letting the large one go first and deflect any potential hostilities away from Setesh.

[Elurindel]

Slathissin heads off amidst the hustle and bustle of the crowd, attempting to find the place where the slaves where being found. In doing so, he requests from whomever holds them that he have a slave from Davora III brought to him that he might indulge himself.

(Infamy test for a Slave is normally an Abundant resource at +50. A single slave is +10, and Forsaken add +10 to resources that are Rare or more common. This puts the effective Infamy for the roll at 102, so a roll is not required as it is considered beneath his contempt. Provided this is the case, see below:)

Man, woman or child, it mattered little to him as long as the feckless creature was from the world. He tore the mortal's arm straight from its socket and chewed the bicep while it was still fresh and pumping with blood, listening to its pitiful screams as he chewed thoughtfully, attempting to absorb any information he could about the world below. While the Night Lord was a patient hunter of his foes, his patience ran short when he was caged in a place such as this at the mercy of others. It was not long before he tore into the mewling human's ribcage for the heart to finish them off. So it was he looked about for more noteworthy people heretics to speak to whilst he licked the blood clean from his gauntlets.

[Henry the 57th]

The Word Bearer who seems to be overseeing the slave distribution in Bay 3 replies to Slathissin. "We don't have slaves from Darvon II, brother."

[Elurindel]

He nods his assent. "Very well, brother.". He was fine helping himself to some dead meat without the need for torture just now. Instead he looked about for other, more worthy heretics that might be worth conversing to.

[Henry the 57th]

Throughout the bay there are large numbers of heretics doing various things with slaves. Several World Eaters have actually given some of the more muscular ones weapons, and are attempting to get them to put up a decent fight, with little success so far. There is a sorcerer laughing psychotically while hurling bolts of psychic energy at a terrified slave, apparently for the hell of it. The slave is desperately running for her life. A pair of Nurglite marines are injecting a handful of slaves with various unhealthy-looking syringes and observing the results. There are several human heretic engaged in a little cannibalism. And finally a large assortment of Astartes and humans just chasing slaves around for fun.

[Elurindel]

Looking around he asks for drink of cheap alcohol, not really caring for what manner. Upon finding the bottle he drinks whatever cheap swill contained within and crushes the glass into a pouch, slipping it within the confines of his robes for later.

[watupwithdat]

"Such a waste of human lives." Setesh uttered to his companions "They're all perfectly viable sacrifices! Pft." He finished his sentence feeling scorn toward the khornates and nurgleims' pointless torture and slaughter. Either you extract information from them or save them for rituals, or possibly both, he thought.

[Henry the 57th]

Slathissin receives a bottle of extremely inexpensive alcohol made of gods-know-what, which he drinks before crushing the glass and taking it.

Spoiler

Show

Make a Perception check.

[Elurindel]

Slathissin receives a bottle of extremely inexpensive alcohol made of gods-know-what, which he drinks before crushing the glass and taking it.

Spoiler

Show

Make a Perception check.

Spoiler

Show

(1d100)[32] Basic success

If not interrupted, Slathissin will make his way over to Setesh, not talking at first.

[Henry the 57th]

Slathissin gets to Setesh and the others without m uch difficulty.

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord claps the Sorceror on the pauldron in a comradely way. "These Word Bearers are great lovers of display and theatrics, no? They make the peacocks of Fulgrim look practically humble!" he smiles cheerily.

[watupwithdat]

Setesh was surprised someone there would actually lay a hand on him unprovoked. He faced whoever it was, and saw it was an Astartes with grey hair in the colors of the old Night Lords Legion. Looking at his armour it seemed he hadn't experienced much of the chaotic aspects in the vortex as of yet. But he must be rather fearless or careless to approach Setesh like that, the sorcerer figured. "Yes, quite so. Which might be a reason they would have others handle their dirty work for them, too." he replied. "I would not figure one of your kin", refering to the unknown Astartes' Legion allegiance, "to aid the fanatical Word Bearers."

[Elurindel]

He shrugs at Setesh's comment. "I go where the work is, and it is certainly not with my Legion anymore. Still, don't you find it suspicious that they are unable to contain an uprising of a misbegotten cult within their own borders?" he refrains from mentioning much about faith, since an argument on that would be pointless. Despite no longer feeling like a part of the Night Lords as they were now, he still held true to their lack of allegiance to any being that claimed itself a god.

[Lucretia]

While Slathissin butchered some poor individual, Zasz had walked through the area, perusing the wares. Someone with a few crates of tox rounds had been interested in what Zasz had to offer, but the deal ultimately fell through -- a slight Zasz would remember, had he been the type to hold grudges. The same happened further down the market, where a series of beautiful polished skulls had been stolen out from under him by a dastardly little heretic, who had offered the seller three rare and interesting pieces to Zasz's one.

But then he clapped eyes upon a fellow Astartes, who appeared to have two items in particular that were interesting. One was a beautiful phial of muscle, thick and misshapen, truly a piece of Papa Nurgle made flesh. They floated in an abysmal green liquid, and parts of the muscle were blackened. The other was a piece of thin metal, clearly quite durable, that had been polished to a shine. Brass whorls traced across the top of the small plate without any discernible pattern. Zasz recognized it immediately as cranial armour, a sort of last-resort for head wounds. The Astartes gestured to them.

"I got these off of a Terminator," he said, giving a grin. "Trophies, but useless trophies to a specimen like myself. As for you, perhaps you would be interested in these items? You might otherwise die in the upcoming raid."

Zasz crossed the arms of his armour and tapped, deep in thought. "You will want something in return for these, I am sure."

"Certainly. You have the sprightly look of a neophyte about you. Surely you've no need for some of those old weapons? Hand me the bolter and the chainsword, and we shall have ourselves an accord."

"You think I would simply part with these items? They are my livelihood! You cannot expect--"

"The weapons, or I will take this as an insult. Surely you do not wish for that to be the case."

Zasz sighed and shook his head, unhooking the centuries-unused bolter and chainsword and throwing them to the ground at the feet of the Astartes. "I have no desire to insult you, no. Here, the weapons. I trust that concludes our business?"

The Astartes, in his orange armour with the black rims, nodded. He collected the weapons greedily while Zasz obtained his muscles and skull cap. Leaving, cradling the items in one arm, the Ancient moved to find one of the Word Bearer's medicae. The price would be steep: his bolt pistol. Saying he would return momentarily, Zasz went back to find Katria, presuming she hadn't been following him.

[watupwithdat]

Setesh nodded. "Those are my suspicions too, yes." He looked around for potential eavesdroppers, not liking being overheard when speaking truth. Which was the opposite when he practiced half-truths and deception. "There is obviously something else they're not telling us. Something I expect to find out soon enough."