Heretics and Traitors (Black Crusade IC)

[Maugan Ra]

The audience chamber, if you can call it that, is little more than an observation deck with a few extra chairs and a holo-projector table thrown into the centre of it. There is no ornamentation, no elaborate murals in dedication to the dark gods or decadent pleasure facilities for honoured guests to take their leave. It is a pattern that seems to hold true throughout the majority of the Glory of Gethemane, a Lunar class cruiser long since captured and turned to the service of the dark gods. Even standing here, in this chamber, you can still see the occasional piece of imperial iconography left over from the ship's loyalist past and never removed.

Still, there is little doubting the sincerity of the captain's beliefs - the full squad of Alpha Legion Astartes standing guard around the perimeter of the room guarantee at least that much. None of them have answered any questions you might have posed to them since you came aboard - nor have the teeming thousands of mortal crew, for that matter, no matter how insistent or persuasive you might otherwise have been.

Forbidden Lore (Psykers) +10 or Psyniscience +20 or Scrutiny +10

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The mortals, at least, appear to be under psychic compulsion to avoid doing so. The Astartes are just stubborn.

Still, at least now you look as though you might be about to get some answers, as you've been asked (politely) to attend this briefing with your fellow prospective agents. Your employer hasn't arrived yet, though, leaving you time to consider your situation and maybe introduce yourselves to those who you may be working alongside soon enough.

General notes:

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I leave it to you to decide why you're here, on a captured Imperial ship floating in an out-of-the-way star system on the edges of the Calixis sector. The only common thread is that you've been invited here by a man called Nicodemus Tyllerton, with an offer of a useful partnership. Exactly how he persuaded you to attend, and whether you know (or know of) the others here already is again up to you.

Notes on your employer:

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General Knowledge (Everyone knows this):

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Nicodemus Tyllerton is a known champion of Chaos operating out of the Screaming Vortex. He's a mortal human, with prodigious psychic abilities, but generally prefers to work through intermediaries and the like rather than take to the field himself.

Common Lore (Imperium) +10

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Nicodemus displays a knowledge of Imperial procedures and facilities in his work that can only have come through first hand experience. He's evidently a defector, and a reasonably high ranking one.

Forbidden Lore (Psykers) +10

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Tyllerton is known for being a telepath of monstrous skill and power. More than that, he displays knowledge and experience of the Imperial Conditioning process that strongly suggests he went through it himself - likely he was a sanctioned psyker before he turned traitor.

Forbidden Lore (Daemonology or Warp) +0

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Tyllerton is known to be favoured by Tzeentch - some say he bears the God's Mark, but that is not known for sure.

[Henry the 57th]

Estas Therash enters, as ever, in full battle plate and jump pack, loaded with numerous weapons and other useful items. His dull grey armor with hazard stripes betrays his heritage as a son of Perturabo, but beyond that shows nothing of him. He eyes the surrounding warriors of the Alpha Legion warily, calculating his odds if it comes to a fight. Not good. his mind tells him.

He has arrived for the purpose of finding work against the Imperium. Since his exile from his own warband, he has been wandering from place to place, serving employers and seeking to prove himself to the Dark Gods. Nicodemus Tyllerton's offer seems to be at least worth investigating, as Estas is eager to show the effectiveness of his methods. The fact that no one is answering anything doesn't portend well, though. Trap? Estas considers the possibility. But who? And why? Or... he thinks some more, Secret mission? Again, why me?

He gives another glance around the room, searching for anything out of place.

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Awareness: (1d100)[84] vs. 38

[Glarx]

Lounging in one of the chairs in a well-tailored dress, flanked on either side by her trusty minions Hector and Horatio, Vivienne was the picture of nonchalance. Examining her manicured nails, she betrayed no tension or concern.

She was here for the simple reason of boredom. It was something to do between planets, and the Glory of Gethemene was warp-capable. It could get her to where she needed to go next. And that was all she needed out of it. With her fortune still thriving and growing, a thousand different aliases providing her with unadulterated access to it on any planet with a banking system, Verata existed only to please herself and her Lord. The tattoo she'd had put above her breasts was the same shade of pinkish purple as the sigil that was emblazoned on her soul, although the tattoo wasn't particularly representative of Lord Slaanesh. No, the unholy icon she wore above the tattoo was more than enough to declare her allegiances.

One of her fingers split in half and a thin, serrated blade came out of it. She examined the blade carefully before returning it to its sheath, the subtle construction of such refinement that it would be nearly impossible to determine that the blades were there at all. With a gesture, Vivienne summoned Horatio over to her. He presented her with a glass of some liquor, which she drank, and stepped back.

Tyllerton had requested that she be here. She was here. Where was he? Her Slaaneshi-blessed senses tingled as she pondered the question.

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Horatio Awareness Test: (1d100)[25] v. 55
Hector Awareness Test: (1d100)[81] v. 55

[Emperor Ing]

Not far behind Estas is another Astartes. Truth be told it's difficult to tell. His massive grey cloak conceals everything on him, the two elaborate power swords at his side, the massive Flamer weapon held in his hands, his iconography, except his helmet, which holds the characteristic black color and brass trimmings that at least suggest him to be a second Iron Warrior. The ornadmental horns on either side more than give away his being one of Khorne's chosen. Scrutiny towards his legs when he walks and one can take just a quick glance at his vambraces displaying the characteristic hazard stripes that all but confirm his being an Iron Warrior.

Cacaus didn't like this one bit. Although he is willing to at least tolerate working for a cowardly psyker, it's the sheer cowardice of this whole situation that leaves him unnerved. Or at least as unnerved as an Astartes whose whole body is roughly 75% metal can be. A psyker, a craven coward who fights from afar, is using the Sons of Perturabo to fight on his behalf. Furthermore, the mortals on this cruiser seem...off, but the Berzerker just can't explain why. At least the Alpha Legionnaires seem normal. Or as close to normal as Alpha Legionnaires can be. He can sense the wariness of his longtime Brother, but he doesn't anticipate a trap, or betrayal. At least not yet, or else he wouldn't be speaking. He was also concerned over the lack of Chaos iconography. Surely this ship couldn't be too fresh a capture could it?

Just in case, he makes a quick glance around the room, mentally calculating the firing vectors of the Alpha Legionnaires should this indeed be a trap and how best to attack them.

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Awareness Target 60
(1d100)[47]

[Glarx]

"Incoming," Horatio said as he observed the two new Astartes. With languid easiness, Vivienne gave them a wave.

"Newcomers to the barren observation room. Welcome, you two."

[Henry the 57th]

Estas' gaze shifts from the viewport to a small woman in a chair, accompanied by two servitors. Her devotion to the Dark Prince is obvious. What is less obvious is why such a small, physically weak creature is here at all, and not cowering before the surrounding Astartes. She isn't even wearing any protective armor. Estas observes Just a dress meant to show off her physique. Estas himself hasn't been subject to those desires since his time as a young man on Olympia, and still less so since his entire body has become machine. Perhaps some sort of force field? He mentally shrugs. I'll learn in time, I suspect. But what is she doing here? How could she be of use? Psyker, perhaps? he muses.

After a moment, a low, mechanical hiss emerges from his helmet's grille. "And you are?"

[Glarx]

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Don't forget, Mister, you don't have Cold Hearted. You're technically just as susceptible to wily womanly ways as anyone.

Supposedly the Tome of Excess is going to have information for interaction tests against player characters. I look forward to that book a very great deal!

"Sort of rude not to introduce yourself first." Vivienne yawned and stretched. "Presumably you've been summoned by Mr. Tyllerton as well."

[Emperor Ing]

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((Trust me, in any game where the player uses Diplomacy checks against players, it never ends well. In other words, don't even think about it.))

Tell me something. The cloaked Warrior behind Estas states. He can already tell just by looking at her, but looks are all-too-often deceiving. And if there is something he simply cannot stand is deception. Do you fight from the front or fight from the back?

[Henry the 57th]

"Astartes do not answer to mortal protocol. Tell me your designation." Estas says, mechanical hiss not altering a mite.

[Glarx]

"I don't fight. That's why you two are here, I'm guessing. I'm the Voice. You two are the muscle. These two," she gestured to Horatio and Hector, "are there to make sure I don't need to fight in case we all get separated due to the twists of chaos. You still haven't introduced yourselves."

((I may have missed Henry's post, oops!))

If Vivienne had heard the obstinate one, she didn't give any indication of it.

[Emperor Ing]

The Berzerker scowls invisibly under his helmet at this coward's response. Our time together will be short indeed. My Brother deems you unworthy of his name, and I pass such judgment upon you as well. I only address myself to warriors.

[Glarx]

She made a dismissive wave at them. "Very well then, this is going to be a stellar example of teamwork and efficiency. I thought we had one more Astartes joining us for this little tete-a-tete. I suppose I was mistaken." Another yawn.

[Henry the 57th]

Estas simply walks over to the small woman, towering over her in his menacing armor, his hand a mere fraction away from his bolt pistol. "Tell me your designation, "Voice", and perhaps I will give you mine." he says in his mechanical tone.

[Maugan Ra]

"Please, children, behave yourselves."

The man walking in through the door now does not look especially impressive. He's reasonably handsome, with sharp blue eyes in a weather-worn face, and there's a certain grace to his movements that speaks of some form of combat training, but nothing truly legendary. His attire is likewise understated, a simple long coat over what appears to be an armoured body glove, a slender sword holstered at his waist.

Still, his gait is confident, and as he enters the various Alpha Legion Astartes around the room incline their heads fractionally in his direction. "Nicodemus Tyllerton. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

[Glarx]

Vivienne's laughter rang out around the hall. "I'm guessing our benefactor wouldn't care for you to put a bolt round through my skull, but if you're willing to face down his wrath, go right ahead. I wonder if the Alpha Legionnaires would sit back idly or if they'd intervene... that actually might be worth the experiment. They've been rather silent since I came in. Got bored of them rather quickly. Not you, though, you've got something going on in your head. Either I'm an affront to you, because I'm not cowering before you, or I'm a curiosity, for the same reason.

"But anyways, Mr. Tyllerton is here, so I suppose we'll have to test fate some other time." Vivienne turned her attention to the Tzeentchian psyker and inclined her head too. "Thank you for hosting us, although I'm a little surprised by the decor. There's even some chips of the old Fifteen Imperials Saints Martyred Against the Fifth Hive Fleet mural hanging from over there."

[Henry the 57th]

Estas obverses the little man for a moment. I wonder what protections he might have? he thinks to himself. "Estas Therash, son of Peturabo." he finally says.

[Emperor Ing]

This human and her arrogance was beginning to grind on the Berzerker. Fortunately he is content to know that as with all things in Chaos, the Blood God will have her blood and her skull soon enough.

However the OTHER human, despite being a sorcerous coward, evoked a different reaction in his mind. There was something about him that Cacaus couldn't help but admire. Of course just then and there he realized he might be under some sort of warp sorcery that's clouding his mind, but nevertheless, this boldness, confidence, the respect garnered from the other Astartes, and practiced step that at least gave some hint of warrior skill is enough to pass the Berzerker's test. Besides, the Blood God will have his skull soon enough.

He nods to the human. Cacaus Marz, Swordsman of Khorne of the Iron Warriors.

[Maugan Ra]

Vivienne's laughter rang out around the hall. "I'm guessing our benefactor wouldn't care for you to put a bolt round through my skull, but if you're willing to face down his wrath, go right ahead. I wonder if the Alpha Legionnaires would sit back idly or if they'd intervene... that actually might be worth the experiment. They've been rather silent since I came in. Got bored of them rather quickly. Not you, though, you've got something going on in your head. Either I'm an affront to you, because I'm not cowering before you, or I'm a curiosity, for the same reason.

"But anyways, Mr. Tyllerton is here, so I suppose we'll have to test fate some other time." Vivienne turned her attention to the Tzeentchian psyker and inclined her head too. "Thank you for hosting us, although I'm a little surprised by the decor. There's even some chips of the old Fifteen Imperials Saints Martyred Against the Fifth Hive Fleet mural hanging from over there."

"My pleasure, of course. And I apologise for the decor. Rather drab, I know, but I've never really concerned myself all that much with aesthetic concerns. I have little talent for it, and why embarrass oneself desperately attempting to pass the mediocre off as groundbreaking?"

He smiles thinly. "And you are quite correct. No violence here, please. It would set an unfortunate precedent, and I'd be forced to retaliate or lose face. And then things would just get messy."

The psyker glances between the two Astartes. "A pair of Iron Warriors. How interesting. And one sworn to the Blood God beyond that... not my preferred sort of accomplices, but one makes do."

[Emperor Ing]

Do not mistake my intent. Whatever opportunity you would present surely possesses a far greater opportunity for far more slaughter than anything I may be able to accomplish now. It is a mutually beneficial relationship, one I would be irrational to not take advantage of.

[Glarx]

"I'm sure you're already aware, but I am Vivienne Verata, a little Slaaneshi cultist you invited to your lovely Lunar cruiser," she said in High Gothic. In Low Gothic she added, "How lovely, our Khornate is rational. That's refreshing."

[Henry the 57th]

"Now that we are acquainted, perhaps we might get down to the reason you summoned us. You mentioned an offer."

[Maugan Ra]

Tyllerton waves a hand at the holo-projector in the centre of the chamber, and it activates with a faint whine, displaying a galactic map that rapidly narrows itself down to focus on a single star system. "This is the Tyrell system, in the Malfian subsector. A quite little place, for the most part - peaceful, pays it's tithes on time, no known ideological deviation beyond sector norms, mostly self sufficient. In it's own right, it's really not all that interesting, save for a single factor - House Krin, one of the wealthiest institutions in the sector, has made a surprising number of investments here. If it were to be destabilized, a large proportion of the sector economy would be thrown off balance, which would benefit a number of my other operations elsewhere."

The psyker shrugs. "The precise technicalities are complex and, I suspect, more than a little boring for most people. So we won't bother with them for this meeting. Sufficed to say, I want this system disrupted - corrupted, butchered, sacrificed en masse, rendered down into hallucinogens... the precise details are irrelevant. And to that end, I'm willing to provide you with resources and logistical support to make sure it happens."

[Henry the 57th]

If Estas had any eyebrows left to raise, he'd do so. Since he does not, he simply asks, "Three against a planet? And not even from the Alpha Legion," he gestures at the Astartes, "But two Iron Warriors and an arrogant human female who are unacquainted? Why?"

[Glarx]

"Do we have logistics on their defensive capabilities? Having an Ultramarine company waiting in the wings, or a private residence of an Inquisitor, or thirty thousand baneblades, or whatever the case may be -- any hidden threats like that would certainly put a damper on things."

She looked up at Estas. "You two seem acquainted, and logically speaking my sphere of influence isn't going to overlap with yours. If the planet is brittle, we can be the toffee hammer to break the whole thing. The big issue, as you correctly pointed out, is the sheer number of enemies against us. I can sway a ship, but a whole planet simultaneously... I'll need a bigger laud hailer."

[Maugan Ra]

Tyllerton rubs one temple in the signs of a mild headache. "I would prefer to use my own forces, or at least a more cohesive group of long-term allies. Sadly, some of my patrons have other ideas."

He smiles wryly, as though amused. "It was... suggested to me by certain powerful and influential daemons that I send you on this task. And I have not made it as far as I have by disregarding pointed remarks from things like that simply because it might be inconvenient. So I will do the next best thing, and see what support I can provide to ensure success."

"You either have allies or enemies in the warp. Perhaps both."

[Henry the 57th]

Estas actually shrugs a little. "It isn't as though I haven't shot my fair share of daemons over the years. It's truly inconvenient when they go around killing workers and disrupting production schedules."

[Emperor Ing]

I require a dossier on this system's worlds. I do not wish to go about them blind. He pauses for a moment. And information on other players in this game. House Krin must have enemies, allies, or externalities that may come into play. Inquisition, Mechanicus, Imperial Army, perhaps even Legio Custodes. The more thorough the better.

[Seanfall]

The door to the meeting room opens once again, A stream of acrid smoke billowing in first, as the Garishly dressed Bacchus finally walks in. His bright magenta colored armor almost glowing in the dark room and a stark contrast to the Alpha Legions. The symbol of Slaanesh is displayed prominently on his chest armor, and the buckle and belt holding the chain loinguard in place further cements his allegiance being covered in craven carnal images. A Thousand pardons my gracious host. Bacchus exhaled blowing a cloud of smoke from a large lit Lho Stick. It seems my accommodations were a little too comfortable. Ah! the others have arrived good, Allow me to introduce myself.

Bacchus smiles widely a sweeping gesture and bowing as low as a man of his size in that armor could, Bacchus, Noise Marine of Slaanesh of the Emperor's Children.

[Glarx]

"Finally, someone I can relate to. A noise marine! It seems we have something to balance out the influence of the Iron Warriors and Khorne now. All we need is a Nurgle worshiper and we'd have the whole set." Vivienne looked over at Bacchus and permitted herself a little smirk. "It's good to meet another disciple of the Prince of Pleasures. Vivienne Verata, pleasure cultist."

[Henry the 57th]

Estas observes the far more flamboyant marine. Perhaps this one will instill in her a respect for the Astartes. Though, knowing the blinding egotism of Slaaneshi cultists, probably not.

"Estas Therash," he tells the new arrival in his emotionless mechanical hiss. "Son of Peturabo." he says. Whom your primarch betrayed. he adds, mentally. "Greetings."