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  1. - Top - End - #1
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    Default Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    "The Emperor has seen fit to grant us a ruin, and I'm hardly one to refuse a gift." -Rogue Trader Tauron Magnus, Lord-Captain of the Blood Money, upon the discovery of unidentified xenos ruins in the Unbeholden Reaches

    "The Kasballica have been making inquiries among the docks and taverns in Footfall, seeking a crew with some discretion to undertake a voyage out into Winterscale’s Realm, possibly the Egarian Dominion. They're promising a significant stake in a vaguely-termed ‘operation’ to interested parties. Ever the quiet ones, aren't they? Prospective hires have been directed to the Kasballica Mission to discuss the details.

    "Considering the Kasballica’s usual interests in the Cold Trade and the likely destination, it is almost certain that the voyage they plan to undertake involves the recovery of xenos artifacts of some kind. This is an opportunity the dynasty cannot afford to ignore. A better working relationship with the Kasballica and the promise of an opportunity to seize xenos relics for sale on the black market is simply too great to pass up when it rears its head, Miss Locke. With your permission, I can contact them to schedule a meeting with a senior representative."
    -Murat Karaic, House Maelius agent in Footfall, in a coded message to Maelius family Adjutant and Seneschal Symonne Locke

    -------------
    The port of Footfall.

    An agglomeration of asteroids bathed in the glaring red light of the star of Furibundus, this port at the rimward end of the Koronus Passage is a filthy morass of vice, crime, and heresy. It is also the first stop for those entering the Koronus Expanse...and the last stop for those looking to leave. Furibundus's form, writhing as though immense beasts fight within, flares, its hate-filled light beating down on any and all travelers wandering within its grip. The outer envelope constantly tears and ripples, throwing off huge flaming masses into the near voids.

    Traffic to the port is constant, and of dubious nature. One transport docks, only for another to leave. Two ships translate to Warpspace at the system's edge, only for two more to arrive from parts unknown. Many of these ships are openly pirate vessels returning from forays into the Maw or the civilized territories of the Calixis Sector, or the deeper Expanse; others are smugglers bound for Imperial space, their holds full of ill-gotten cargo and proscribed items. Shadowplay and intrigue in the port are common, back-alley killings frequent.

    And the business and endeavors of Rogue Traders most certainly welcome.
    -------------

    2230 Hours, Debitum Phantasma Shipboard Time - 135.816.M41 - Inbound to port of Footfall
    447.25 Hours out of Port Wander

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    The shipboard intra-vox transmissions were an electronic chatter filling the corridors as the Debitum Phantasma began its final approach into the docks of Footfall. The bridge and enginarium were in a frenzy of activity, completely at odds with the relative peace and ease of the rest of the ship as the crew went about preparing to wrap up their duties and got ready for some well-deserved shore leave after navigating the Koronus Passage.

    "Plasma drives cycling down to zero."

    "Uh, copy Enginarium, this is maneuvering control. Firing aft thrusters at point-two-one strength, over."

    "Affirmative, maneuvering. Helm, what's it looking like out there?"

    "Approximately 2,000 kilometers out, closing. We're on-target for docking procedures. Maintain steady course."

    "Affirmative, helm, maintaining course."

    "No sign of trouble, I hope."

    "Idiot. You're gonna jinx it."

    "Besides, it's Footfall. There's always trouble."

    "Cut the chatter, both of you. 1,500 kilometers and closing."
    -------------

    The crunch and clang of magnetic docking clamps locking the Debitum Phantasma into place immediately precedes the hiss of the airlock as it equalizes the interior pressure with the exterior atmosphere. The first scent to assault your sense of smell is that of the unclean masses of humanity, as the airlock slides open to reveal the docks of Footfall before you.

    In the distance, neon lighting, signs, advertisements of all types, and the far-off light of Furibundus's star is mixed with the sight of countless scrap-constructions, stonework structures as far as the eye can see, and a dense, haphazard sight of countless buildings of both makes and anything inbetween jammed up against each-other in an urban nightmare that would make any hive-city of the Calixis Sector look like a well-planned pillar of urban development. Beyond the towering, haphazard structures, you can see chains and stonework tunnels tethering other asteroids together with the one upon which your ship has docked, all clustered around a statue of the God-Emperor of Man the size of a battleship in the center.

    The chatter of countless sub-dialects of Low Gothic, uproarious laughter, a bar brawl somewhere off in the distance, periodic gunshots from some turf war or other among the port's various power groups, and music all simultaneously greet your ears as you step off the ship and into the docks. Armsman Dufrane checks the safety on his combat shotgun as he and Armsman Harkin stride out of the airlock first, and he's the first to speak as you all take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the port.

    "Welcome to Footfall, sirs and ladies. Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times."
    Last edited by blackouttwo; 2014-10-19 at 06:22 PM. Reason: OOC thread: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?375739-OOC-RT-Adventures-of-the-Debitum-Phantasma-Closed
    Vespe Ratavo slowly destroys the GRIMDARKNESS of Warhammer 40K

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    Originally Said by Vespe Ratavo

    Stealing romance novels from the tech-priests...we've seriously hit a new low...
    Destro says:
    Ok, it's allowed this once, but only because it gives Vespe the chance to crack awesome jokes

    Vespe says:
    That could really be used to justify anything...

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  2. - Top - End - #2
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    One of the last ones out of the arlock, holding herself in the background, is Shas'ka. The xeno is dressed in her combat armor and is already geared up with all the strange weapons in her arsenal. The pulse rifle held at the ready as she scans the area with her gaze, her face completely hidden by the visor-less helmet. The armor might also havehid her in-humanness if not for her feet which looked more like hooves than human feet and the alien design of it.

    Next to Shas'ka, the drone she simply called "Bork" hoovered. Equipped with a long-range pulse weapon and mechanical sensors that served as her second set of eyes, the device was one of her most valuable assets and the only thing that had survived on the surface of Ravacene besides herself.

    The tau and the drone already looked ready for a fight, the strange flashing lights and the sounds making her weary. But she couldn't slow down, she had to enter this like a fish enters water. Just keep diving until you had fully embraced it and never look back. So she continues forward with the rest of the group even if this flashy and loud Gue'la settlements almost made her nauseous. It was one of the worst one she had seen so far, and that was saying something.

    Still, this should be nothing new after all she had gone through. But she had recently been starting to enjoy the relative quiet and peace of having a room of her own and now she was thrust into reality once, with all it's dangers and sounds washing over her like the inevitable tide after the ebb. Perhaps her time at the Gue'la vessel dulled her instincts somewhat, the lack of other of her people had made it somehow harder to keep up her strict discipline.

    Shas'ka looks unable linger her gaze on anything here for too long with new sensations being thrown at her from every direction. Finally she looked at the one called Maelius, the commander, her new commander, for potential instructions. Though instructions from anyone would do, she felt like she was being thrown into first combat once again here. She needed some orders.
    Last edited by Shadowcaller; 2014-10-14 at 11:32 PM.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Though Naithin, still known to the Tau and the Navigator as Mr. Blank as a transparent refusal to reveal his true last name, put up a resistance when it was revealed that their potential dealings with the Kasballica would likely involve the skin trade, Symonne would recognize it as being token and minimal, as she knows him best. He's well aware of the realities of being an Explorator at the whims of a rogue trader, and is playing his expected part without acting the obvious heretek.

    Though he doesn't relish the opportunity to work on xenotech the way some of the old, strange ones of the disciples of Mars who have trekked this space before did, the chance shall not be wasted and he is certainly the only one he would trust aboard the ship with the responsibility. All too likely that a less precise, sharp mind would go corrupt by the temptation that the blasphemous technology presents.

    And so he steps heavily from the airlock, preceded by his servo-skull which flies high overhead and acts as his eyes, scanning always for opportunities and danger around. He's fully armed, carrying his precious Zepherus cradled in the crook of one arm, and having his much more standard boltgun attached to its weapon mounting and interface on a swivel, menacingly tracking the crowded spacedock based on the data fed to him by his servo-skull. His power axe is clipped and holstered, a more ceremonial weapon than his preferred armament, but one that has seen slight use in a pinch nonetheless.

    He mentally commands the skull down through the MIU uplink, withdrawing his combitool and adjusting its built in auspex carefully to get a more precise reading on the immediate surroundings. He rarely bothers to look up himself, when the skull can do his seeing for him, unless it's time for him to shoot.

    He calibrates it to scan for the number of bio signs and any types of harmful radiation or gas that could be within fifty meters of them, curious as to the first impression of Footfall that his borrowed, enhanced senses can provide.

    "Symonne, I would be grateful if you could look for any Krytron Plasma devices. If you could secure a steady supply, it would make my main duties as an explorator aboard this ship safer and more reliably carried out." Only she and the Lord Captain knew what his prime duties truly entailed, though the Astropath sister may have prized it out of her poncy trader of a brother. More than just techpriest duties, Naithin prides himself in his ability and enthusiasm in the field of overwhelming concussive force exultations and their glorious application in the name of the Emperor.
    Julie, everyone's nth favorite succubus, by Gulaghar.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    The arrival has left Symonne tense, as all involved space manoeuvres did. Even though a shipwreck here would not result in being stranded for months, her fear centres did not seem to believe that. The Lord-Captain hadn't noticed this particular weakness of hers. She hoped he never would.

    Her first action on arrival is to send a message to their contact:

    "The Lord-Captain is in agreement. Please schedule the meeting." -Adjutant Symonne Locke, encoded reply to Murat Karaic, House Maelius agent in Footf1all.

    Her second is to meet Naithan at the airlock. This is their first stop since she'd pulled the necessary strings to get him aboard. Such strings involved putting an employment contract in the middle of a stack of documents requiring the Lord-Captain's signature, then handing them to him while he was drunk. It was likely - even probable - that Timmaeus would have made no objection. But despite Naithan's clear qualifications, Symonne would take no chances with Naithan's future. Timmaeus was impulsive and untrustworty, and perhaps had already settled on another family member or xeno for the job. Or someone he was trying to charm into his bed. There was a story about an underqualified tech-priest who had been hired solely because of her shapely ass.

    At any rate, it is a pleasure now to step onto a new world, reunited with an old friend, after more than a decade apart. "Certainly, Magos Blank," Symonne says*.

    Her own Babel servo-skull floats with her, but just below shoulder level to avoid attention. No sense having it shot at for fear that it has offensive capability. Like the others, Symonne is armed and armoured - xeno-mesh armour under her robes, with her Inferno Pistol at her waist and her Boltgun slung over her back. She deplores having to carry so much weaponry on her person, but it would be foolish not to be prepared for violence.

    Naithan might be struck by how much Salley/Symonne has grown to resemble her mother, Tesa. Though she had years since leaving Haddrack in which her meals were both regular and adequate - both of which were welcome - the months in the Savior Pod had clawed back that gain, leaving her still looking somewhat emaciated. And that haunted expression in her eyes - surely that looked more like Tesa than the irrepressible Salley.

    Though perhaps he won't see the resemblance. Symonne is dressed like a woman of affluence, her hands are steady, and her eyes unclouded by drugs or amasec.

    "How do you find your facilities?" Symonne asks.




    Notes:
    1. HT needs to know what a Krytron Plasma Device is.
    2. Blackouttwo, can you add a link to the OOC thread to the OP?

    Last edited by happyturtle; 2014-10-15 at 01:51 PM.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    The next out of the Airlock is the crew's Abnormally Large Pug. The fawn-furred dog barks and yowls happily before turning around to yap at his owner, encouraging her to come on out. When she does, the Astropath has to suppress a shudder. "Do we have to get off the ship?" She asks wearily, shaking her head. "Don't like cities even if I like the fresh air."

    Shera Maelius, despite being the Captain's younger sister, is hard to recognize her as such. She's quite short, not even 5ft tall, with skin so pale it could be translucent and braided hip-length hair that has turned gray from both stress and the horrors she's endured. Perhaps most disturbingly is that instead of a normal face, half of it has been replaced by a steel plate fused to her flesh. The stainless steel covers her forehead and eyes, moving around her nose before covering part of her cheeks. The steel is completely unadorned, making it hard to focus on any part of her face that it obscures. Despite all sense pointing otherwise, her sight seems to remain good enough for her to be able to walk freely and even read when she wishes.

    Currently she's dressed in slim green and purple robes, having chosen to go unarmored for now. She's far from a complete idiot though and is still armed with her stub-auto on her right thigh. Her main weapon, her mind, is always at the ready however.

    Despite her misgivings about getting off the ship, the woman is obviously willing to do so, even going so far as to smiling slightly as she stretches her legs. "Oh well, there are always worse stops and at least here we're supposed to be fairly safe. Just warn me if you see one of my colleagues roaming about. Such encounters are not likely to end favorably."
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    "You needn't worry yourself, sister. Footfall hasn't had fresh air since the galaxy was young, and our beloved Saint Drusus's litanies of hatred consisted solely of 'goo goo, ba ba, burn the heretic.'" Timaeus jovially remarks, striding out of the vessel with his usual cocksure attitude and self-important smirk. Always best that people know a Rogue Trader when they see one, and Timaeus wasn't about to let untold ages of history down by not playing the role, of course. That he had a hangover roughly the size of that statue of the Emperor he was currently bowing to for luck...well, these things happen, and you can't let them get in the way of a job done right.

    "Before we go to work, perhaps a reminder of our circumstances are in order, cogboys and girls. And xenos, of course. We are, ahem, presently on Footfall, and as with all ports, watch for cutpurses and thieves. You have your own salaries and wages, and are free to spend them, time permitting, but none go back to the ship less valuable than they came off of it. We don't set anything or anyone on fire unless it is absolutely necessary, to be determined at your discretion, and we add nobody to the crew unless they are of obvious and immediate utility."

    "Adjutant Locke, you-" the Lord Captain starts, in a tone that suggests that she's been deemed the individual most likely to make such changes to the crew list.

    "-and I already know all there is to know of these Kasballica Mission individuals we will be meeting with, but if you would be so kind as to inform the rest of the team what to expect from our upcoming meeting?" It's phrased as a humble request, but is most certainly anything but. Of course, that bit about already knowing about the Kasballicas is complete hogwash, too. Up until just a few weeks ago, the Lord Captain assumed the Cold Trade was the exchange of illegal cryogenic technology; there's no way he knows half as much as he says.
    Last edited by Lord Magtok; 2014-10-15 at 12:54 PM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Sola, the ships navigator, remains silent as she steps down onto footfall. She's an average height woman with a wiry build hidden by her voluminous blue robes, which mark her out as a navigator if her mutations didn't. She wears her mesh armor underneath, just in case - a long sleeved black shirt that one can only see the wrists of with the robe on. She keeps her hood up, partially obscuring her face, as a simple courtesy to those that don't really wish to look at her warp eye. She has it closed, but she knows she can be offputting to some. She has left the silk scarf off of her eye, however, just in case she needs to utilize it. At her belt is a pistol, and one that Naithin has probably attempted to tinker with in the past; an archeotech laspistol, a family heirloom.

    Sola herself has pale skin and a crooked grin. Unsettling, however, is that her teeth are sharpened like needles, though that appears to be a mutation rather than intentional change. Even worse, her eyes are pitch black, seeming to lack an iris or sclera; one could imagine the warp eye to be the same, if not for the fact that looking into it causes you to see the warp instead.

    Being led by a chain in her left hand is her 'dog'. Brutus is, quite simply, monstrous. A creature covered in shaggy gray fure, it's essentially a tightly wound bundle of muscle, teeth, and anger that could intimidate a squig. For all that he seems tense, however, his mistress' hand seems to sooth him, and he doesn't lash out any anyone if they don't get too close. Of course, as a war hound, he'd be the first into combat were it to happen, but still.

    Sola's reasoning for coming off the ship was simple; she just wants to stretch her legs, and take Brutus for a walk outside of the corridors of the ship. So, for now, she's following the others rather than going anywhere herself.
    Last edited by Halae; 2014-10-15 at 01:57 PM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Armsman Harkin spits on the ground. "Well, long as we're not waiting 'round here, I don't care much about no business, Cap'n. Hate the smell of this place already. Let's do what we came for and be done with it, yeah?"

    "Oi." Dufrane glares at Harkin, his Footfall-scummer accent coming to the fore immediately. He's always tried to suppress the accent for the sake of dealing with the rest of the crew, and he doesn't much care for slights against his birthplace. "Footfall smells, but she patches up our boat just fine and the food's to die for. You shut your mouth, Harkin."

    Harkin grunts. "Aye, Dufrane."

    "Miss Locke, if you'd be so kind?" The slighted security trooper hoists his shotgun, keeping it aimed upward in case 'something' gives him an itchy trigger finger in an unwarranted way. On a nearby landing pad, a bulk cargo lifter takes off, carrying a hold full of cargo, and the bustle of the port docks proceeds without interruption or incident. This is not a place that cares for the likes of those who come here, and it's beginning to show.

    Spoiler: Symonne
    Show
    CL Underworld: The Kasballica is a well-known alliance and shadow-conclave of prominent crime lords and illegal syndicates along the Drusus Marches with significant interests in the wider Koronus Expanse and Calixis Sector. The Cold Trade, the business of dealing in xenos artifacts and technology, is their primary business, with artifacts and materials from the dead worlds of the Egarian Dominion being a particular specialty. Their influence spreads from the Koronus Passage to run throughout the neighboring Calixis Sector, with buyers and dealers on countless worlds and outposts, including among the nobility of the Calixis Sector capital world of Scintilla. The Kasballica send trusted agents and representatives into the Expanse and to their base of operations in Footfall, the Kasballica Mission.

    They do this to cultivate dealings with Rogue Traders heading into the Expanse, and attempt to purchase any alien artifacts or technologies Rogue Traders might come across, offering to handle the distribution of the artifacts to buyers and end-users in the Calixis Sector in exchange for a (usually significant) cut of any proceeds from the sales. The Kasballica Mission in Footfall consists of skilled negotiators, ruthless enforcers, and merchants of countless forbidden goods and services. If the price is right they can provide, purchase, or arrange transport for almost anything.

    Their private army usually consists of well-trained and well-equipped professional mercenaries, including ex-Imperial Guard veterans and former Stormtroopers with high-end equipment, and their negotiators command a high price for deigning to do business with any Rogue Traders that come to bargain with them. While most arrangements are beneficial, it's a safe bet that the Kasballica will demand a large slice of the pie, but the price for attempting to work around them may be higher due to the risks of attempting to sell xenotech in the Calixis Sector through one's own network of contacts, and the possibility of the Kasballica 'taking offense' at trying to circumvent them - at least in Footfall. They're not omniscient by any means, but overall profit and risk at the end of any dealings in the Cold Trade are almost universally a better option if they're being done through the Kasballica Mission.

    To that end, the Kasballica Mission sponsors a number of xeno-archaeological expeditions, and offers work to Rogue Traders to transport, lead and defend any expeditionary personnel heading into the Expanse for this purpose. Their representative on Footfall is a man by the name of Vladaym Tocara, and by all accounts, he's a humorless, perpetually grim and unhappy man with a no-nonsense mentality.

    Awareness: The crowd seems to be a motley collection of longshoremen, assorted scum, labor-servitors, armed guards, mercenaries, and personnel from various docked vessels on shore leave or business of some kind. The smell is disgusting, and the sights common to any major port. Beyond the usual of packing and unpacking crates, and one or more lifting cargo shuttles in the distance, there doesn't seem to be much of note here.


    Spoiler: Naithin
    Show
    Awareness: The crowd before you is the usual, and you saw it countless times in your days as an Explorator. Albeit with far more machine-like precision and coordination. The loading and unloading of provisions and munitions, the scent of sacred machine-oils applied to the sound of launching spacecraft, the thunder and rumble of massive plasma drives in the distance as countless ships launch for parts unknown or dock for repairs after a battle in the darkness of the void. The armaments you see among the crowd are almost universally battered, ill-cared for, and almost certainly malfunctioning in minor ways. The machine spirits in this place, one and all, cry out for aid, and you are in no place to help them.

    Tech-Use: [SCANNING SYSTEMS ENGAGED]

    [AVE OMNISSIAH]

    [SCANNING...PLEASE WAIT...]

    [NO HAZARDOUS MATERIALS; BACKGROUND RADIATION AT ACCEPTABLE LEVELS - BIO-SIGNS DETECTED - APPROXIMATELY 10,000+ BIO-SIGNS DETECTED, PREDOMINANTLY HUMAN - SMALL COLLECTION OF BEASTS AT FAR END OF OUTER PERIMETER, WEST]

    [SCANS INDICATE LARGE NUMBERS OF PERSONAL WEAPONRY AMONG LOCAL POPULATION; NONE ACTIVE AT THIS TIME]

    [ADVISE CAUTION]


    Spoiler: Shera
    Show
    Awareness: The masses of humanity before you seem to mostly be going about their business; nobody's paid the new arrivals any heed. A Halo Barge launches from a nearby landing pad, its hold laden with what looks like crates full of hastily-packed weaponry. Assault lasguns bound for some warzone further into the Koronus Expanse, most likely. There doesn't seem to be any kind of immediate danger, but Footfall is prone to bursts of sudden violence. Proceeding cautiously would be wise.

    Pug Awareness: *snortsnortsnort* There's THINGS and SMELLS and PEOPLE, LOTS OF PEOPLE, LOTS OF PEOPLE, some of the people have GUNS and KNIVES and SWORDS and SMELL FUNNY. LOTS OF FUNNY SMELLS- FOOD. FOOD. FOOD. FOOD. FOOD.


    Spoiler: Shas'ka
    Show
    Awareness: The crowd is full of human men and women of varying shapes and sizes openly wearing weapons and battle-scars of countless varieties. The neon signs assault your senses, the music off in the distance is strange and hard on your hearing even through the noises of the crowd, and everything carries an inherent sense of anarchy. There's no true unity here - you can smell it in the air. Only paranoia, wariness, and itchy trigger fingers, many of them replacements warranted by injury and battle-damage, most likely from among their peers and fellows.

    The only thing you see and hear is one simple fact: You're a long way from home. And on some level, you are alone.

    Drone Awareness: [PROCESSING...TARGET PRIORITIZATION COMPLETE]

    [MULTIPLE WEAPONS, CLOSE-ASSAULT WEAPON, CONCEALED, DESIGNATION 'CHAIN KNIFE' - DIRECTED ENERGY RIFLE, DESIGNATION 'LASCARBINE' - DIRECTED ENERGY SIDEARM, DESIGNATION 'LASPISTOL' - SOLID-PROJECTILE SIDEARM, DESIGNATION 'STUB-AUTO' - 'STUB-REVOLVER' - SOLID-PROJECTILE CLOSE-ASSAULT SYSTEM, DESIGNATION 'COMBAT SHOTGUN']

    [ALARM]

    [MULTIPLE DETECTED WEAPONS OF VARYING UNIDENTIFIED CLASSES - SENSORS INDICATE COMMONALITIES OF- PROCESSING]

    [PROCESSING]

    [PROCESSING]

    [NO WEAPONS IN IMMEDIATE VICINITY ARE ACTIVE OR READY TO FIRE]

    [PERIMETER SECURE; ADVISE CAUTION]


    Spoiler: Sola
    Show
    Awareness: Even in a hive, you never saw quite this much activity. And even the underhive didn't smell so terrible. The noise and bustle of the port is unusual to your ears; the underhive was always more quiet, until the gangs started fighting, as a result of the countless denizens trying to stay out of sight, whether for the purposes of hunting or hiding. The shriek of a hunting beast at the far end of the chamber reaches your ears, and you realize this is but the first of alien suns under which you will stride as a Navigator. For some reason, that fact gives you some sense of satisfaction. This is the sort of place you were meant to come to, one day.

    Psyniscience: Your psychic senses give you a sight of a constant haze, stretching from one end of the docking chamber to the other. The life-auras of the countless people in this room overlap, swirl, and make it nigh-impossible for you to pick out anyone of note. If there are psykers in the room, you can't see them, but the enormity of this port hits you like a ton of rockcrete.

    Brutus: Grrrrrrrrrr. People.
    Last edited by blackouttwo; 2014-10-15 at 03:26 PM.
    Vespe Ratavo slowly destroys the GRIMDARKNESS of Warhammer 40K

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    Originally Said by Vespe Ratavo

    Stealing romance novels from the tech-priests...we've seriously hit a new low...
    Destro says:
    Ok, it's allowed this once, but only because it gives Vespe the chance to crack awesome jokes

    Vespe says:
    That could really be used to justify anything...

    Destro says:
    You may NOT have a Titan




    Let's Play Space Empires V

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    "Perhaps, brother, but I still insist that we do not stay long. Places like this only bear ill-tidings for honest people like us." Shera explains with a wry smile before reaching down to pet her dog. "We'll find food soon, promise." She swears to him before looking around at the others. "Give me a few moments to try and see if there are any prying eyes." Shera suggests as she steps forward in front of everyone. Unless stopped from doing so, she reaches out with her mind in an attempt to sense any psyker presences around her.

    As she concentrates, everyone around her will see thin copper lines begin to form on her faceplate, spreading into a highly detailed version of her true face. The eyes even move and dart around as she looks about her and the lines forming her brow furrow in concentration.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Shas'ka stares at the information coming up on her helmets screen and then at her commander as he talks. Now more than anything else all these Gue'la felt like strangers to her. Here in her suit she was somehow separated from them at much more than a mere physical level. Which brought both a feeling of safety, but also loneliness.
    The as always the best way to fight this was to focus on her duties. She steps forward towards Timaeus, taking a deep breath as she braces herself to try to communicate in their language. Repeating the words over and over in her head as she walked until she was sure she was able to put them right. She takes the opportunity when Shera scans the area to ask her question.

    "Commander, do you... have any special orders for me?" She asked, hoping she wasn't making a fool of herself again. A warrior was generally supposed to know what to do without having to ask.
    Last edited by Shadowcaller; 2014-10-16 at 07:59 AM.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    [AVE OMNISSIAH] Naithin responds through the MIU uplink before letting go of the servoskull and allowing it to wheel upwards and resume its scouting.

    "There are inhuman beasts to the west, fifty meters out, may be slaves, pets, or beasts of war. May simply be cattle. I am not particularly interested in finding out which." But it bears saying, in case their presence was of interest to the rest of the landing party. Naithin lets the others assume that anything else he didn't mention wasn't worth mentioning.
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    "The Kasballica Mission is a confederacy of underworld syndicates-" Symonne doesn't say the word 'crime'. To her, it's only crime if you get caught. "-who control the Cold Trade in the Koronus Passage and Calixis Sector. Buying, selling, archeo-expeditions, you name it. They'll expect to be involved and to take their cut. To enforce this, they have a well-equipped mercenary army, many of them ex-Imperial Guard and former Stormtroopers. Basically, you do not **** with them. Their mission in Footfall is headed by a man named Vladaym Tocara, who is a serious, no-nonsense person. They often seek out Rogue Traders to work with, and it'd be in our interest to create a cordial working relationship with them, both for its own sake, but also to put us in a position to out-manoeuvre our rivals."

    "Our contact is arranging an appointment with the Mission. I recommend the meeting be limited to the Lord-Captain, myself, and the Magos, along with Harkin and Dufrane as an honour guard. No need to force the rest of you to undergo the tedium of trading negotiations, and you can enjoy some much needed r&r. Incidentally, Dufrane, I'd be delighted to learn where Footfall's best food might be found-my treat, of course."

    Symonne hopes her gambit works - changing the subject immediately after her suggestion that the most misfit members of their group be left behind. She can trust Naithan to advise her properly on the technical aspect of the deal, and the Lord-Captain, for all his faults, is at least highly personable when he chooses to be and isn't completely wasted.

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    Symonne will get a knowing look from Sola, perceptive as the navigator is. Sola could say something about having a navigator present can warn the group of potential warp mishaps and areas where warp storms are likely to occur, but she doesn't. Symonne's an intelligent woman, and has likely already considered that particular aspect of this agreement. Further, Sola is a bit overwhelmed by the situation here - she's used to the sparsely populated underhive of Hive Sarvin where she was raised, and ships, not open air markets. This place is new and interesting to her, and while Brutus isn't particularly happy with going into crowds of people, he's also a loyal creature at heart, and will stay by Sola's side through thick and thin.

    So, while she could bring up a valid point for her to attend, Sola just nods in affirmation. Rather than sitting in on a trade agreement, she can examine the local shops, perhaps buy something for her fuzzy mutt. She's also never been comfortable with official meetings, feeling much more at home plying the warp or in the combat she learned against other kids in the hive. Strong, fast, and clever she may be, but she knows she's no speaker, and the obvious mutations she bears don't help.

    "I'm going to shop around a bit, maybe get a meal for myself and treats for Brutus. If you need me, I have my comm-bead." she says, and without further ado, intends to walk off. someone could either stop her or join her easily enough. Her intention is mostly to browse; there's nothing in particular she really wants, per se, but certainly there's things she could use, even if it's just for her own vanity. Maybe a dress...
    Last edited by Halae; 2014-10-16 at 04:20 AM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    "I'm afraid Symonne's right," Timaeus pauses, unsure whether to follow that with 'Xenos', 'Shas'ka', or some crude and insulting nickname invented on the spot. Both his sister and Symonne are present, after all. One would frown very strongly on displaying anything but righteous fury towards the alien, and the other considers the xenos a friend. One has reputedly murdered his uncle, and the other is an astropath who could call mom and tell her of some of the habits he's acquired since leaving home for the great expanses of space.

    "-Shas'ka. No place for a Tau at the negotiation table. They'd see you as a commodity; insist on making you a security deposit, or something along those lines. Shera and the Navigator could use an escort, however. A large firearm might dissuade any unscrupulous ruffians that would dare take advantage of innocent maidens wandering strange markets and unfamiliar streets.

    Or it might not. I'm putting them in your care regardless,"
    the Lord Captain says with a smile, patting the Tau girl's helmet. More likely than not, anyone who dared trouble either Shera or Sola would wind up brutalized to the warp and back by their respective powers, and if they were left alive, the encounter with those 'innocent maidens' would haunt them for the rest of their days. Still, let the xenos think she's being given a big responsibility. It's good to let people think you trust them; they're more likely to trust you when you do so.

    "Everyone keep your comm-beads open. We'll meet back at the ship when business is adjourned, provided everything goes well. Emperor bless," he says, with a sort of lazy half-salute, before gathering up his team to go attend that meeting.
    Last edited by Lord Magtok; 2014-10-16 at 02:22 PM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Shas'ka doesn't move an inch as Timaeus pats her helmet. She wasn't sure what it meant, but she was pretty sure he never done anything like that with the other Gue'la. It was probably a humiliating gesture of some kind, but why? Was it simply this human empire's general distrust of anything other than their own kin or something else? Nothing could be gained from going these things over in her head though. She had to focus.

    "Rodger that Commander." The fire warrior steps back and then turns to her new charges. Ready to go wherever they might lead.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Dufrane watches the Navigator as she and the Tau leave, her familiar at her side, and he shakes his head, turning to look at the rest of you. "Leaving the alien to guard two of the most important people on the ship strikes me as a bad move, sir, but I can't argue against it. The Tau can at least shoot straight."

    Harkin just snorts. "I'm more worried for anyone who decides to tangle with a Navigator and an Astropath. Or those little...animals they keep with them. Never sat easy with me, those things. Not one bit." The fact that Brutus is almost certainly touched by the Ruinous Powers and the astropath's pug has a track record of telekinetic activity probably doesn't help. "They'll be fine, Dufrane, mark my words."

    Dufrane shrugs. "Long as they come back alive, I don't much mind what happens. We're dead in the water if we lose our Navigator, and losin' the astropath would be inconvenient, after all. Let's get moving. The Kasballica rep's probably expectin' us. The Mission isn't hard to find; I'll take point." With that, the armsman takes the lead through the crowd. Seeing the nature of the individuals with him, and their fine clothing and weaponry, the crowd seems to part, most not wanting to risk crossing a Rogue Trader. Others take no notice at all and go on about their business, nevertheless out of the way. The armsman leads the way to what appears to be a small collection of battered skimmer-taxis sitting at the far end of the docks, looking to pick up passengers, and waves to one of the drivers. "Oi, mate!"

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Naithin hangs back as the other four head on, momentarily debating the merits of arguing his position in the negotiations. He's well aware that he's a hard man to like, abrasive and direct at the best of times, but it seems his expertise is needed.

    He'll open a channel on his comm bead directly to the Tau, though, subvocalizing into it with careful modulation of his vox unit, *ksht*I would make you aware, Shas'ka of the Tau, I think our Lord Captain has taken a liking to you. *ksht* Let her puzzle out whether he's joking or not. Assuming she's even aware that humans are capable of such jocularity, let alone in such an even, low monotone.

    Meanwhile, the servo-skull will hover up ahead, matching pace with Dufrane and hovering just behind his shoulder, carefully within his peripheral vision. The harsh tones of Magos Blank issue forth from it, "You had best hope they come back not only alive, but pristine armsman. I would mind very much anything happening to them that could foster contempt to the crew or our Lord Captain, and make them unlikely to do their very vital jobs. The flesh of men is weak, and the flesh of a mind can hide many scars." Something he is unlikely to ever forget, with what he's seen done to people of the Imperium in the guise of progress, and the reactions of their relatives when the truth and horror was unveiled.

    So if he must give the armsmen a harsh reminder of the realities of dealing with the Warp, then so be it. He can afford to be ill-thought-of in the stead of the absent members of the landing party.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    The Freaks

    "We're safe to continue. No prying minds."
    Shera says as the facial expressions on her fade back to the normal brushed steel. As the others head off, she gives a sigh and reaches down to pat her dog's head. "Go with them. Protect." She commands before letting him go with a bark. Symonne will see that the pug sticks right next to her, having marked her out as the weakest of those heading towards the meeting.

    She turns to walk along with the Navigator and Tau for a bit before giving another sigh. "And here I thought being a Navigator or Astropath garnered a measure of respect. If they didn't want us along because of what we are, they should at least be up front about it." She adds bitterly before looking up at the Tau. "Thank you for coming with us. There is nothing in particular we're looking for except possibly some charts, so if there is anything you'd desire, simply speak up."
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    The Weirdos

    "I was going to speak with her about it when we got back to the ship. I won't deny her logic on the matter, but I won't sit on my hands about this. You might have more clout, given your the Captain's sister, but one of us should do it," Sola shrugs, stepping in the direction of the markets. She looks around everywhere, taking in the sights like a tourist that knows how not to gawk. She passes through crowds with practiced ease, however, and may at some points leave the other behind, only to wait for them a little ways away.

    "What should we look for? I was thinking I might want to get some more clothes, try out some local food. Maybe freak out some locals when a trio of women that are obviously unusual walk into their shop," She smiles. It had always been fun as a mutant kid to go with the other mutant children to a higher up hive layer to scare shopkeepers, "You know, enjoy the day."
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    The Unusual's

    The fire warrior instinctively stopped as she heard her comm-link go on, listening closely for potential orders. What she got was something quite else.
    She recognized the voice of the yet-to-be-named earth caste Gue'la on-board the vessel that just had left with the other group. While he was obviously very intelligent and ingenious to be able to serve so close to the Commander, she hadn't thought about him much until just now.

    She isn't sure how to reply to that, if it was another web of Gue'la interaction she yet had to understand. "Hold a moment." Shas'ka replies into the comm, not even sure if he still heard her or not. Others were talking to her after all, causing her once again to search for words.
    "Umm... I don't think I need anything Or'es Shera. I'm here to escort you and Sola, nothing else." She nods respectfully at the two ladies. "I will follow wherever you lead." She had to ask Or'es Shera what a pat on the head meant later though, Mr. Blanks word had made her reconsider the gesture. Had the Commander really come to respect her?
    Last edited by Shadowcaller; 2014-10-17 at 06:56 PM.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    The First of Many Exploits of the Fearless, Gallant, Honorable Lord Captain Timaeus Maelius, and A Somewhat Forgettable Entourage Hardly Worth Mentioning Here

    Oops, forgot to describe what our Lord Captain actually looks like. You'll have to forgive me, folks. I've been writing that same robot man day after day after day, I forgot that characters sometimes need actual physical descriptions. Hahaha, so used to playing someone so iconic that nobody ever bothers asking what he looks like, y'know? #shamelesshumblebrag

    Anyways, Timaeus Maelius, the hungover hero of our sorry story. I suppose the first thing that would jump at you as unusual is how thin he is. I mean, not to an unhealthy extreme, but aren't Rogue Traders generally larger gentlemen? Not obese (although that in itself is quite common too, with their massive feasts and endless hedonism), but massive, herculean characters with barrel chests and limbs like well-muscled tree trunks. A Rogue Trader is supposed to be an imposing, devastating figure, who towers over the impoverished masses with his noble physique. The sort of man who can accurately fires a massive boltgun with one hand behind his back, and hardly needs a Power Fist at all to shatter ork jaws and beat full-grown Carnifexes into submission.

    No, instead Timaeus Maelius barely has any shoulders at all, nothing at all that you could put an decently sized set of pauldrons on. He's a slender fellow, more of a branch or a twig than the aforementioned tree trunk, with what might have been a slate blue naval officer's uniform stretched thin over his lanky frame and barely concealed carapace armor armor, lightly decorated with three or four purity seals and the sigil of his kind, overlain with a suitably ostentatious and violet greatcoat, left hanging open and concealing Throne only knows what in its sleeves and within its pockets. He wears no extravagant hat over his shortly cropped mess of brown hair, no monocle over his pale blue eyes, and his pale, youthful complexion (What is he, thirty-something? Really? There's no way he's left his twenties, not unless he started rejuvenant treatments exceptionally early) and prominent cheekbones bear not even the slightest touch of bronze or iron augmentations. In short, he may very well be a legend in the making, but if so, with very much emphasis on the 'in the making' part, and not so much on the legend.

    "Ugh, have you no guile in your heart, Dufrane? No duplicity? The alien isn't guarding the girls, armsman. The girls are watching the alien. She was craving purpose, and I provided. Social interactions with a superior species will do her good, far more than wasting away in the gilded cage that is her ship quarters. Besides, with the girls present, we need not worry about the xenos being poached out from under us by some enterprising street ganger wishing to curry favor with the Kasballica, do we? No, we need only sound sufficiently apologetic when we arrive to find a small hill of shattered, disembodied skulls, where any number of lowborn brutes had once stood." Timaeus explains, more than confident that his sister can handle herself without the other half of the team present. Or maybe he's just saying that because the psychic pug is walking alongside them and Shera can hear every word, I'm not sure.
    Last edited by Lord Magtok; 2014-10-17 at 10:45 PM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    "Lord Captain, may I remind you not to accept the first deal they offer." Symonne says to Timaeus. She pays no attention to the pug at her feet, nor spares any worry about how the other women on the ship feel about her excluding them from the negotiation. To her, it was merely good sense to avoid complicating any potential negotiations by leaving out unqualified crew members. Whether she is judging them unfairly isn't a question that occurs to her. She is a product of her culture, and such notions as equal rights and respect for diversity are not ideas she's ever encountered.

    Besides, that mutant really disgusts/terrifies her.
    Last edited by happyturtle; 2014-10-18 at 05:57 AM.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    "All due respect Cap'n, Magos? Long as it's not my job to take the lasround, I don't much care. OI!"

    Dufrane waves a hand as the captain prattles on about psykers protecting the Tau and such, before returning his attention to the taxi driver once more as he continued to lead the way through the crowd. Waving and jumping up and down to get his attention, Dufrane yelled a bit more loudly. "OI, MATE!" That seems to get the driver's attention, and the short, elderly man with a shaved head and more wrinkles than a filthy bedsheet turns his head to look in Dufrane's - and your - general direction. "FIVE PASSENGERS, ONE PET, ONE SERVO-SKULL! GIVE US A RIDE, YEAH?!"

    The driver seems to hear that and turns to climb into his skimmer-taxi, warming up the engines and thrusters immediately. As you finally approach, the skimmer distinctly reeks of cheap rotgut booze and lho-stick smoke. The driver opens a small glovebox and pulls out a pack of said lho-sticks, not a brand any of you recognize, before tossing it into the backseat, apparently for all of you to share.

    "Where to?"

    Dufrane grunts as he slides into the back window seat, shotgun resting in his lap. "Kasballica Mission."

    The skimmer's engines pitch up to a shrill whine as the rest of you pile in, and takes off, soaring into the scrap-filled agglomeration of Footfall.

    -------
    2245 Hours, Footfall Local Time - 135.816.M41 - Kasballica Mission

    The Kasballica Mission at first seems unassuming, aside from the heavy fortifications and the fact that it's a veritable fortress compared to many of the surrounding structures amidst Footfall's vast urban decay. The skimmer-taxi pulls up out in front, being tracked by numerous heavy-bolter turrets. The structure itself is imposing, vast stone fortifications carved out of the asteroid's rock, and towering, well-crafted metal gates almost certainly made of the kind of materials used to make starship hulls. The fortifications and gates are completely bare of any sort of insignia or mark of ownership, but it's not hard to see the wealth and influence behind the extensive armaments of the dozens of mercenary guards atop its battlements.

    As your skimmer touches down, three guards approach, two bearing hellguns and their connected backpack power-capacitors, the last armed with what seems to be an autopistol in a hip holster. Every single one of the guards is wearing a suit of glossy, black flak armor with a carapace chestplate. The guard with the autopistol draws a handheld auspex from his belt and begins to adjust its settings as you draw near, his lower face concealed by a compact gas mask, only revealing his eyes. The other two guards accompanying him both have compact, protruding visors, polarized to prevent you from seeing their faces. You can't see it, but it's very likely those helmets have integrated autosenses, preysense-optics and probably at least one targeter system.

    The guard with the auspex snaps at you as you step out of the skimmer, running his auspex over each of you in turn, starting with Dufrane. "Stand still!"
    -------
    2245 Hours, Footfall Local Time - 135.816.M41 - Dock 17-B Bazaar

    The crowds of the marketplace seem even more packed than the dockyard proper, jostling and shoving past each-other on their way to whatever business or stall the people of Footfall have decided to visit on this fine Furibundus day. Criers call out for buyers and Footfallen denizens to come to their employers' stall, countless hole-in-the-wall bars and 'restaurants' can be seen dug into the rock of the asteroid, and pict-casters displaying news-tickers and local broadcasts of every stripe can be overheard, intermingled with the sounds of business, 'itinerant preachers', and the occasional back-alley mugging.

    "-Wrapping up financial news, the Lucin's Breath nephium routes report a significant decrease in pirate activity over the last month, indicating the success of several pirate-hunting operations over the last fiscal year in Winterscale's Realm-"

    "Chainswords, high-quality chainswords, right here! Used by the armsmen of House Winterscale itself, they are! Quality pattern chainswords!"

    "Mysterious xenos artifacts from the Unbeholden Reaches! Gaze into the mysterious spheres of the Savages of Orn! Marvel at the crystalline wonders of the Egarian Dominion!"

    "-bounties paid on destroyed Rak'Gol vessels have dropped sharply in the last fiscal year, indicating a drop in xenos sightings around the Accursed Demesne and Winterscale's Realm. House Winterscale has confirmed it will continue to pay the bounty for any ships reported, however Calligos Winterscale himself has stated-"

    "Do you love the sight of blood?! Do you have a taste for violence?! Do you like it when wild xenos beasts rip and tear?! Come to the Gore Pit and watch creatures from across the Expanse slaughter each-other like the wild animals they are! It's all for YOUR amusement, so buy a ticket today and come on down! Those of you sitting in the front row WILL get wet!"

    "-AND SO THE EMPEROR ALWAYS PROTECTS THE FAITHFUL AGAINST THE FOUL DESIGNS OF THE XENOS AND HERETICS AMIDST THE VAST DARKNESS OF THE HALO STARS-"

    "See, you pull this little lever all the way back, and the reserve load drops into the plasma flask. That'll give you another two to six shots. Just don't go on maximal mode and it'll get you out of the fight alive, long as you shoot straight. Nine-hundred thrones. Well don't give me that look. It's a plasma weapon. You knew the price would be high."

    Stalls line the streets, countless buyers and sellers sample, examine, and chatter about their wares, and street performers put on a show of swordfighting for the amusement of passers-by, set to the clanging of blades as they parry and swing, hats laid out to collect a proper payment for their hard work.

    Welcome to the Dock 17-B Bazaar.
    Last edited by blackouttwo; 2014-10-18 at 12:17 PM.
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    [The Bazaar]

    Sola frowns at the mention of bloodsports - they're not a particularly lovely part of this or any other world, and for a moment she puts a hand on Brutus' neck, aware that if she hadn't been the one to raise him he probably would have ended up in a beast pet somewhere, trained for fighting other animals. Being a guard dog at least wasn't the madness of an arena.

    Sola will pull his chain towards one of the stalls. Really, the chain leash and thick collar were unnecessary, but he's almost four hundred pounds of dog, with teeth large enough to tear a grox in half; it makes people feel safer when a beast like that maintains the illusion of being controlled. Her first stop is to get a large amount of raw meat for the dog straight from a butcher. Even if there's bones still in the meat, he'll chew right through them in several solid crunches. The only time he's really happy is during feeding time, and Shas'ka and Shera will see her doting on the animal, going "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are!" while scratching him behind the ears.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Kasballica Mission

    Naithin, who has resolved himself to be as silent as possible during the meeting unless Timaeus or Symonne expressly request his input, nonetheless is considering the consequences of shooting out the knees of the flippant Dufrane idly, with no real intention of doing so. He's sure he'd say something pithy while doing so, such as "Well, so long as you're alive, you shouldn't give a damn about your condition." But in the end, wild bursts of barely justified violence are better left to those with explosives in hand.

    And he has sadly had no time to prepare any, having spent most of it since being hired acquainting himself with the ship and its scientific facilities, which were amply supplied if for frivolous and salacious reasons.

    With those malicious, well organized thoughts in the back of his mind, he autopilots his way forwards at the back of the negotiations party. Perhaps he'll have a word with Symonne, without the oblique threats he tossed at the armsman, about the tactful treatment of those under your command who are in positions to leave you stranded in the warp or dead from insanity. He's aware of the likely causes of her dismissal.

    He'd likely get farther talking to the pair of psykers directly to explain for his friend's behavior, though that may be a violation of her secrecy if he says too much. Bah, why does he insist on wasting time on the frivolities of the flesh. Naithin would feel better if he'd left himself in the Laboratorium with some highly reactive compounds in his hands.

    When they do get to the guards and the Auspex, he stands steady with his servo-skull hovering at his shoulder. His weapons, all three of them, are on full display, and his armor is hardly hidden under his red robes.
    Last edited by Slii Arhem; 2014-10-18 at 09:41 PM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Kasballica Mission

    Quote Originally Posted by happyturtle View Post
    "Lord Captain, may I remind you not to accept the first deal they offer." Symonne says to Timaeus.
    Timaeus studiously chooses to ignore Symonne's remark. If he's going to cut her rations, it should be for a much more presumptuous remark than that, otherwise he'll just look petty and childish, too quick to anger and the product of all of that noble heritage spoiling him rotten. No, he was still absolutely spoiled rotten, but he's professional now. He has a career now; he has the family dynasty's image to uphold and elevate to the farthest reaches of space. It would be beneath him, to waste his energies trading barbs or reducing rations over minor slights against his honor from his own entourage. If anyone asks, he was lost in thought, and never heard her at all.

    "Armsmen, when we step inside, I want the two of you on either side of the rest of us, your footfalls perfectly synchronized with my own until I come to a stop. Locke and Locke, do the same, but in the two spaces between myself and the armsmen on either side, slightly behind myself. Symonne on the right, Naithin on the left. Fluffles, you can of course go at your own pace. " Timaeus instructs, with the overall goal to present the group in something sorta resembling a lowercase 'w.' I honestly don't see the point of any of this either, but you guys should probably go along with it anyways. I'm sure there will be time during the approach to get a feel for the Lord Captain's pace. Time enough to figure it out so you don't have to stare at his feet the entire approach and look like an idiot.
    Last edited by Lord Magtok; 2014-10-18 at 11:21 PM.
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Kasballica Mission

    "...."
    is the first part of Symonne's reaction to Timaeus's marching orders. It's likely to look stupid anyway, but it'll look very stupid if they get it wrong, and since they've never practiced, they're certain to get it wrong. She catches Naithan's gaze and rolls her eyes in Timaeus's direction. Just as frivolous as his Uncle Laban, just in his own completely special way.

    Finally she says, "Understood, Lord-Captain." in a voice almost entirely stripped of sarcasm.

    Just in time to hear the order to stand still. So she does that.

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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    Kasballica Mission

    Symonne's response is a silent, more than slightly angry glare at the back of the lord captain's head. She may remember the reason for his caution in concealing his true last name, even though the trader clearly didn't. Still, this event was relatively harmless, as the Kasballica is very unlikely to be dealing directly with the Ecclesiarchy, so the information will do them less good than it would another organization.

    Of course, if the Captain did remember Naithin's warnings and was just doing this out of some ill-conceived spite, that would be another matter entirely.
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    The Bizarre

    "You're a member of the crew now, and a valuable one even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes."
    Shera tells the Tau as her gaze moves over the items for sale. "You shouldn't follow all the time. Sometimes you should take command of a situation and lead when you know best. You should also do things for yourself from time to time. It'll make you feel better. Do you think you can do that for me?" The Astropath asks the Tau before heading over to the stalls selling Xeno-Tech. "Also, let's ignore the blood sports. We're more than likely going to see enough blood in the future."
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    Default Re: Rogue Trader: Debitum Phantasma - The Weaver's Locus

    [The Bazaar]

    As the 'dog' of Sola's tore into the meat Shas'ka couldn't help but to be reminded of a Kroothound. They didn't seem that common around here though, but perhaps there were more of them in that bloodsports arena. It sounded like a very foul place.
    But she turns to focus on Shera again. "I can take actions on my own Or'es Shera." She replies with a nod. "But the Commander ordered me to watch you and I was being honest when I said there probably isn't much that would interest me out here. All of this seems alien and crude to me. No offense to your kin of course, I simply do not understand them." But despite her words her eyes were drawn to the xeno-tech stalls Shera was walking towards. Perhaps she could find some relic of her people here?

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