IC II: DH The Purity of Sacrifice

[rax]

Up on the landing, Hound waited patiently with Sir Drimmle. He held his silenced pistol in his hand, pressed against his leg so that it wouldn't be immediately visible from below.

"Remember Sir Drimmle, it's up to you to prevent more bloodshed," he reminded the Credit Guilder.

[Bennosuke]

Surveying the scene, with Ser Drimmle surrounded by the intruders, the trio stop about halfway up the walkway. The elder woman steps forward, coming to the shoulder of the towering guardsman, a frown spread across her wrinkled face. Even from outside you can hear her say, "I see we have come too late," her voice high and sharp.

"Do you think it's a trap," the man replies.

But you can't hear the woman's response. Then moments later she calls out, "Ser Drimmle? Ser, if you are safe, why don't you come outside!"

Inside, Ser Drimmle turns to Hound, whom he gives a shrug that says, "what do you want me to do?"

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Hearing those voices now, Marc closed her eyes, inhaled and brought her thoughts under control. Concentrating her psyche, she pushed it out across the web of the local warp in search of any other sentient mind in range...

[rax]

"Tell her that they are indeed too late, but that matters have been resolved and you are well. She may come in or stay outside, it makes no difference to you. In either case, you are terminating your contract with them," Hound whispered to Drimmle.

"Depending on her response, you will voluntarily add the conditions we spoke of earlier to the terms of their severance."

[Bennosuke]

Marcella extends out her consciousness, casting a gaze that allows her to see a network of moving souls all around her. She senses no one else in the mansion, and feels the burning minds of her companions around her. She senses the anger and the fear of the three standing before them in the yard. The old woman in particular has a powerful mind, but none of the three before her have true Psyker level strength.

Beyond this, she senses the web of pedestrians moving to and fro in the streets surrounding the compound, those farthest away almost out of focus as they exist in the periphery of Marcella's extended consciousness.

Nearby, Ser Drimmle gives Hound one more shrug, before stepping forward towards the balcony railing. "I... I am alright," he starts, his voice cracking immediately, "Everything is... is resolved. I am... I am actually done with your services now. Your contract is severed, you can go."

The powerfully built Ex-Guardsman snickers at this. He takes another step towards the entrance but stops to say, "Well then I suppose you will have to pay us the rest of what we are owed. Why don't you... and your new friends come out here with our payment then!"

Ser Drimmle's face goes white and he again turns to Hound, as if he were a teenage boy looking for help speaking to the girl next door.

[Haval]

Orla is slumped against her borrowed gun while she facepalms. 'Maybe we should have cleaned up a bit before they got here' she mutters.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella opened her eyes and exhaled, the warp rescinding from her attention. Swallowing and breathing, Marcella drew her comms in her sleeve to her mouth to speak into it quietly.

"The three at the front door are the only three present; I can't sense any of the others," she said, her soft voice coming in through the comms of everyone else.

[rax]

"Are you sure you work for the Credit Guild? I had supposed that bargaining would be your forte," Hound shot back at Drimmle.

Taking a deep breath, he calls out to the Star Guard members outside. "Sir Drimmle is under our protection now! Your services are no longer needed, but he will pay you what you are owed for the remainder of your contract period. You are welcome to come inside to settle accounts if you wish and no harm will come to you, or you can return to your offices and await the forwarding of your severance pay. The choice on how to proceed is yours, but the decision has already been made."

[Bennosuke]

Ser Drimmle's face is without color, his eyes wide and almost all pupil. But still he manages to hiss back at Hound, "Well these aren't exactly the sorts of situations I am used to. Not really part of the training handbook now is it?"

Hound's reply is met with silence for a long moment. Then the sound of footsteps coming up the stone stairs begins echoing into the landing, growing slowly louder. The shadows of the three Star Guard precede their entrance, long slender black figures that shudder in the artificial lights above. The three enter calmly, but with their weapons readied. The Ex-Guardsman holds a las pistol in each hand, the elder woman has somehow managed to procure a plasma pistol. Serellia in the back however is unarmed, except for a handheld vox device. The man is the first to speak, "I like what you've done with the place," he says, glancing at the damage to the landing and the stains of blood across the floor. He looks up and confirms the bomb is still hanging over their head and scowls.

[Wyndeward]

Ser Drimmle's face is without color, his eyes wide and almost all pupil. But still he manages to hiss back at Hound, "Well these aren't exactly the sorts of situations I am used to. Not really part of the training handbook now is it?"

Hound's reply is met with silence for a long moment. Then the sound of footsteps coming up the stone stairs begins echoing into the landing, growing slowly louder. The shadows of the three Star Guard precede their entrance, long slender black figures that shudder in the artificial lights above. The three enter calmly, but with their weapons readied. The Ex-Guardsman holds a las pistol in each hand, the elder woman has somehow managed to procure a plasma pistol. Serellia in the back however is unarmed, except for a handheld vox device. The man is the first to speak, "I like what you've done with the place," he says, glancing at the damage to the landing and the stains of blood across the floor. He looks up and confirms the bomb is still hanging over their head and scowls.

Arl made a show of lowering his stub automatic to his side and not holstering it, but holding it at his side, much in the fashion of the Star Guard associates. With his free hand, he makes an "after you" gesture and then casually leans up against the door.

"Redecorating is almost always a bit of chore."

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella remained quiet for several long moments as she debated whether to reveal herself or not. Weighing the pros and cons, she settled on honesty being the best policy, as her absence would likely cause suspicion within the guard trio, given how...'close' she had gotten to Serellia last time.

Moving out onto the upper walk way, Marcs shorter, blonde headed figure emerged into view, peering down at the trio who were under what they believed to be an armed explosive. Seeing Serellia brandishing a radio, Marc deducted that the other Star Guard members were within radio distance, and they'd come running if assistance was needed.

[Haval]

Orla had given up trying to hide while holding a very large gun and will hold it loosely in the general direction of the three strangers. 'Alright. Who are you who cares so much about this one? Maybe we should introduce ourselves so we can avoid any misunderstandings.' If she had her way the three would never have known she was here and the thought made her grumpy.

[Bennosuke]

The three scowl as the acolytes appear gathered around them on the balconies above, but make no effort to raise their weapons nor flee. The Ex-Guardsman scowls at Orla and her question and spits back, "I could ask you the same question. If you haven't figured it out, he's our employer, who owes us a bit of money. So I'd prefer he's at least allowed to go get his purse."

[rax]

"Names will not be necessary. If you remain calm and refrain from violence, you will indeed be paid in full and none of us will ever meet again. Sir Drimmle, in what manner did you agree to pay the Star Guard Force? I suspect it wasn't from spare coin in your purse?" Hound interjects.

[Bennosuke]

Ser Drimmle's face still pale, expression soured, replies, "Via credit slate. I owe them each a thousand thrones... little good they've done me." He scowls, turning his dark expression from Hound to the Star Guard below, and back to Hound again. Something like an idea flickers across the man's face for just an instant.

[Haval]

The three scowl as the acolytes appear gathered around them on the balconies above, but make no effort to raise their weapons nor flee. The Ex-Guardsman scowls at Orla and her question and spits back, "I could ask you the same question. If you haven't figured it out, he's our employer, who owes us a bit of money. So I'd prefer he's at least allowed to go get his purse."

Orla grins at the Guardman over the stubber. 'Not one for first names are you? Fair enough. As someone who works for a living I'm all for you getting paid.'

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marc remained on the upper walkway, peering down and blending into the background as she did so. She watched with a fascinated curiosity as to the back-and-forth banter, particularly when Orla got involved, wondering if this how 'fighty people' spoke to each other.

[Bennosuke]

The three at the bottom of the stairs seem nonplussed by Orla's show of comradery, instead the ex-guardsman leads the other two several steps forward towards the stairs closest to Ser Drimmle. He will stop at the bottom of the stairwell, unless he is threatened to stop before making it that far.

At the top, Ser Drimmle's face regains a little bit of color. He watches the three approach, and when they stop, turns to Hound and hisses, "Well, what is your plan?"

[rax]

At the top, Ser Drimmle's face regains a little bit of color. He watches the three approach, and when they stop, turns to Hound and hisses, "Well, what is your plan?"

Hound registers Drimmle's shifting expression impassively before responding. "Transfer the Thrones to this data slate and I will pass them on to your retainers," he says, producing his own empty data slate and holding it out to Drimmle. "Then you may make out whatever receipt is necessary to complete the transfer."

"Once your pay has been transferred, Sir Drimmle will also require the return of all the security footage which has been copied to your cogitators since the begining of your service," Hound addresses the guardsman. "You will further undertake to make no mention of myself or my colleagues to anyone, nor will you for any reason make inquiries about us. In return, Sir Drimmle will provide you with excellent recommendations for the services you have rendered, thereby ensuring that you leave his service with a spotless record. If you have any objections to this deal, I suggest you make them known now."

[Bennosuke]

Hound registers Drimmle's shifting expression impassively before responding. "Transfer the Thrones to this data slate and I will pass them on to your retainers," he says, producing his own empty data slate and holding it out to Drimmle. "Then you may make out whatever receipt is necessary to complete the transfer."

Ser Drimmle scoffs at this, saying loud enough for the group at the bottom of the stairs to hear, "Pay them? If they had succeeded I wouldn't be standing here with a gun to my head."

At the bottom of the stairs the Ex-Guardsman yells, "A deal's a deal. We did our best to hold up our end of the bargain!"

"The DEAL was that I payed you to keep ME safe!" Ser Drimmle shrieks, taking a step away from Hound to stand at the end of the balcony and rest both hands over the railing so that he can more easily call down to the Star Guard.

The Ex-Guardsman raises one of his pistol in anger, pointing it at Ser Drimmle and shouts, "You bloody cheat!"

Ignoring the threat, Ser Drimmle turns to Hound and with a vicious grin says, "I refuse." His gaze turns to Marcella, the grin spreading though his eyes are filled with darkness. He adds to Hound, "What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella wanted to facepalm as Drimmle disgorged his outburst, his penny-pinching ways over-ruling his common sense that the less commotion they made right now the smoother everything would go. It infuriated the psyker, as the minor noble had the ability to swing between a figure of pity and sympathy, to that of an arrogant ******** that threw away every opportunity handed to him to make things right. Maybe she was too soft. Maybe she should have just let Arl shoot him in the head and make this whole thing look like a break-in or suicide. The guy had had more than enough chances afterall, however 'in motion' the groups actions may have set him.

The psyker mentally started to clear her head and draw in her focus and concentration, while mumbling softly under her breath. Even though no one was close enough to hear what she was saying, it wouldn't help them understand as she was uttering rote scriptures to help centre her psyche, as she looked beyond Drimmle and to Hound, to observe what his reaction, and direction, was going to be.

[rax]

"Yes," Hound answers Drimmle and promptly shoots him in his left foot.


@Bennosuke
You want a roll for that, or can we handle this cinematically? Hound's lost his patience, but he is going to give Drimmle one more chance to stop playing silly buggers so everyone can go home and leave this whole unedifying mess behind us.

[Haval]

Orla will sigh internally and keep watching the three mercenaries.

[Bennosuke]

The report of Hound's weapon thunders in the entranceway, drowning out everything, including the sudden sound of Ser Drimmle's scream. His knees collapse and almost goes over the banister. The three at the entrance all raise their weapons at the sudden weapon's fire, but fortunately no one else starts shooting. Collapsed to the ground, Ser Drimmle writhes around on the ground moaning and clutching his ruined foot. Blood gushes in a puddle out of both sides of the man's leather boot, puddling on the marble floor under him, beginning to stain the bottom of his robe.

From below, the Ex-Guardsman calls, "Don't you bloody kill him! Not until we're payed!" His face is a mask of frustration as he takes several impulsive steps up the stairs. The others follow.

On the floor at Hound's feet Ser Drimmle finally starts to compose himself. "You bastard," he hisses, but the pride and venom are sapped from his voice. He stammers, "How am I even going to get down the stairs to provide a parchment verification of transfer?"

[Wyndeward]

Arl permits himself a small smirk and shakes his head.

"A body didn't have to have a spyglass to see that coming..."

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

It almost shocked the Psyker how used to witnessing violence she had become. When Drimmle made his sadly predictable self-centred gambit again, despite everything riding on a smooth transition, the psyker had been preparing herself to reach into his mind and force compliance. However, Hound had opted for a more direct route, one that left the arrogant noble wheezing and wailing on the floor, clutching his foot where a 9mm bullet had just penetrated through. Not even visibly phased as she watched the scene unfold, Marc just cooly estimated that, assuming no bones were broken and it was only soft tissue damage, Drimmle should be fine in two to three months.

Marcella could significantly reduce that time to just a week if she used her psychic powers, but she was starting to think that Drimmle had had enough breaks. Perhaps hobbling about with walking assistance and being bed-ridden for a while would do his ego good. The painkillers would also likely help him sleep.

Exhaling through her nose and shaking her head while wearing her impassive look, clearly irritated with Drimmle, Marc moved forward and approach Hound and the noble, before kneeling down next to the banker and inspecting his foot. Holding a gloved hand out for Hound to pass her a bandage, Marc would begin wrapping it firmly around the wounded appendage.

"I told you that cooperation would make this easier, Ser Drimmle," Marc's soft voice could be heard.

"This will apply a pressure and the material is highly absorbent, it will stem the bleeding and allow coagulation to take over. You're looking at two months or so off this foot. That means lots of bed-rest. You stepped on a nail. You dropped a sharp gardening instrument on your foot. There are lots of excuses to explain this wound," Marc spoke, emphasising her final point with a nod of her head, her tone and mannerisms almost like she was a nurse tending to a patient rather than someone who'd just witnessed something shocking and bloody.

On the floor at Hound's feet Ser Drimmle finally starts to compose himself. "You bastard," he hisses, but the pride and venom are sapped from his voice. He stammers, "How am I even going to get down the stairs to provide a parchment verification of transfer?"

"Sign it and I'll take it down if you want."

[Haval]

From below, the Ex-Guardsman calls, "Don't you bloody kill him! Not until we're payed!" His face is a mask of frustration as he takes several impulsive steps up the stairs. The others follow.

'Hey.' Orla snaps towards the Guardsman. 'Settle down. If he wanted to kill him he would have shot him in the head. Now relax.' The stubber is pointed directly towards the man.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Charm for the hell of it
vs. Fel 41
(1d100)[14]

[rax]

Hound holds up his silenced pistol and glares at it in disappointment. "Worst. Silencer. Ever," he mutters.

"Shut up, Drimmle. Any more foolishness from you, and I'm shooting your other foot. Keep going after that, and I'll take a hand, then your legs, and your arms. All I really need from you is your mouth and what passes for your mind, and I assure you, we're quite capable of seeing that you survive long enough to talk without any of your limbs," he continues while passing a bandage to Marc.

"Now, we will continue the process of paying your retainers for their services, yes?"

[Bennosuke]

Ser Drimmle watches as Marcella bends down and begins tending to his wounded foot, initially grimacing at the pressure. He waits till she finishes speaking, the look of pain turning to one of anger. In a low whisper he replies, "You read my thoughts witch. You know I wish to return to The Emperor. Why won't you just let me die!" He raises a bony hand to grab hold of the lapel of her robes, his grasp tightening till the knuckles turn white.

When she puts the paper in front of him, he says, "Only if you promise to kill me after."

'Hey.' Orla snaps towards the Guardsman. 'Settle down. If he wanted to kill him he would have shot him in the head. Now relax.' The stubber is pointed directly towards the man.

The guardsman stops, raising his weapons slightly though not truly in a way that would make them useless. Still this far up the stairs, it would be impossible to turn the heavy stubber around on him while remaining braced. "Alright, alright," he says cooly, "no one is going anywhere. We're settled."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Hound holds up his silenced pistol and glares at it in disappointment. "Worst. Silencer. Ever," he mutters.

Lol, my bad

"Now, we will continue the process of paying your retainers for their services, yes?"

Rather than reply to Hound, Ser Drimmle turns a dead serious glare to Marcella and whispers, "Well?"

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella stared back at Drimmle, unable to believe what he was asking of her. Being able to touch and 'experience' and feel the thoughts of others, suicidal ideation was like the darkness reaching out for you. The action itself was...disturbing to her, to end ones life and cast themselves into the Warp beyond not only willingly, but in such a depressed state of mind.

"Alright," the psyker spoke back, her voice soft.

"But at the time of my choosing. If you go now, in your state of mind, it won't be the Emperor you return to. You will be easy prey for the things that lurk beyond death. If you believe me on anything, believe me on that."

The implications of her words should spook even the bravest of men. Eternity was a long time to spend outside the light of the Emperor.

Her point hopefully made, Marc drew her right hand up and held it open, ready to receive the signed form so that she could take it down to the guardsman.