Haeresis Ex Cathedra Act 1: Dolus Episcopi(Dark Heresy IC)

[Miraqariftsky]

Scowling and creaking,
Inwardly railing
Against
Hospital's long resting
Confessor Infernis
Stomps through the rain
Careful not to let his precious iron
Soak too long yet glad of the weather
He gives his coat a single shrugging shake
As they cross the threshold,
The thick sleeves
Swinging
Empty
As his
Left hand
Delves deep
Into a trouser pocket
For a spot of warmth
But soon enough rests easy
Upon a wooden pistol butt---
---Only released when he meets
Chaplain Martin's greeting challenge...

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TN 25 (1d100)[35]

...and though his battered bones grind
Infernis refuses to give, growling,
"Terra, the sickbed is poison.
Heh-hah-heh-hah..."

[Magni's Hammer]

"Greetings, good sir Martin. I am glad to finally be here."

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Strength 33. Result: (1d100)[49] If success, Mathias speaks confidently, looking him in the eye; if a failure, he lowers his gaze and winces, humbled by the man's strength

[R-Group]

As the Aquilla-Shuttle sweeps in for a landing, even amid the driving rain, Novius scuttles about the cabin compartment gathering his various supplies and pieces of equipment. Stepping outside the open hatches, he draws himself within his heavy robes, thankful for the thick fabric to block the howling winds. Checking that nothing has been damaged under transportation, he shuffles after the other Acolytes under the Ecclesiastic roofing.

As Chaplin Martin steps forward to address his visitors, Novius takes a quick step away, leering back away form the domineering priest who called out into the storm. He lurks near the back of the straggling Acolytes, inwardly nervous of the priest's loud and boisterous nature. However, he maintains a grim expression of seriousness when eventually forced to take the Chaplain's grip. He extends his left hand, keeping the delicate Electoo Inductors tracing his right palm far back and away. His hand thus locked in place, he nods slightly towards the Chaplin, his vox-grilles blaring through the din of the rain.

"Chaplin Martin. It is a pleasure and an honor."

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I suppose I'll try and match his grip too...(1d100)[16]

[Magz81]

Realizing his cell will never see combat or uncover the machinations of chaos, realizing he will never get a chance to chain sword a mutant or purge a witch in cleansing flame. Realizing that the Emperor has turned His face from them, the scion of Decavalcante can stand idle no longer.

Jaq smiles up into the rain, kisses his votive icon one last time.
The autogun kicks like an oiled animal in his hands.
The muzzle flare spits in the rain,muffled by the silencer, taking off the hiver's brain pan and spraying Chaplain Martin with its obscura-tainted contents.