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<blockquote data-quote="DrZombie" data-source="post: 5542341" data-attributes="member: 15640"><p>[sblock=rat] Damned. An arbitrator. Sitting right next to you. You feel the package burning in your pocket. Are they on to you already? She appears to have dozed off, but you think you can see a glint between her eyelashes. She’s probably spying on you. You try to appear unconcerned, and look around, but you don’t really see anything at all. [/sblock]</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Kelly Kinkade] You doze off, lulled by the movement of the carriage and the droning prayers of the pilgrims. Every few minutes you open your eyes a bit to check your surroundings, but you’re losing the battle against the stalking foe called sleep [/sblock]</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Harrigan Zhent]The paranoia of your lethal companion seems infective. The people in your compartiment are an odd bunch. There’s an arbites officer who seems to be dozing off, and a generally suspicious looking individual, badly dressed but well-armed, who seems to be nervous for one reason or another. The thuggish looking merc sitting across him looks to be a bodyguard of some sort, although you cannot imagine how a ganger would end up with a protector.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>[sblock=BruceMcLane] Your ratty companion is nervous, probably because there’s an arbitrator dozing off next to him. Unless the package he’s carrying is containing something that is against imperial law you should be safe. Another odd couple is sitting next to you. An imperial psyker, of all things. Voidborn, although he tries to hide it beneath his robe. You recognize the signs, the awkwardness, the way he furtively looks outside as if frightened by the mountain vista gently rolling by. His companion is something else. Body glove, combat training. The way her eyes keep darting around. Assassin, that one. Servant or safety valve?</p><p>Unfortunately they’re not the most dangerous persons in the carriage. There’s a pair of passengers near the entrance of the train. One appears to be a minor noble of some sorts. Overdressed, over-groomed, armed with what looks like a gilded gun. But his bodyguard... A cold killer gaze and the movements of a panther. He’s dressed in loose-fitting but finely tailored clothing, and is armed with a sword. His eyes never rest on a single spot more then an instant, even if he’s distracted by the incessant talking of his companion.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Kestrel] You glance at the people in your compartment. There’s an arbitrator nearly dozing off. Next to her is a rat-faced individual. A ganger, most likely. You can see the bulges of two handguns under his jacket. It’s almost funny how he tries not to show his anxiety of sitting next to an arbitrator. He’s shielding something from her, looks to be a small package. His companion is more alert. A merc. Feral-worlder, probably Catachan or something very close. Well-armed. Looks like he can use his weapons. He’s alert, scoping out the dangers in the carriage, you included. </p><p>Unfortunately they’re not the most dangerous persons in the carriage. There’s a pair of passengers near the entrance of the train. One appears to be a minor noble of some sorts. Overdressed, over-groomed, armed with what looks like a gilded gun. But his bodyguard... A cold killer gaze and the movements of a panther. He’s dressed in loose-fitting but finely tailored clothing, and is armed with a sword. His eyes never rest on a single spot more then an instant, even if he’s distracted by the incessant talking of his companion.</p><p>You surreptitiously try to get a better look, but the throng of pilgrims is partially blocking him from view. And then, in the group of pilgrims, you see a movement, just for an instant, that you recognize. The chal’brae, rite of preparation, as practiced by the officio assassinorum. The physical movement for mental preparation proceeding imminent violence.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>You see a group of pilgrims getting up and heading towards the front of the carriage.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="DrZombie, post: 5542341, member: 15640"] [sblock=rat] Damned. An arbitrator. Sitting right next to you. You feel the package burning in your pocket. Are they on to you already? She appears to have dozed off, but you think you can see a glint between her eyelashes. She’s probably spying on you. You try to appear unconcerned, and look around, but you don’t really see anything at all. [/sblock] [sblock=Kelly Kinkade] You doze off, lulled by the movement of the carriage and the droning prayers of the pilgrims. Every few minutes you open your eyes a bit to check your surroundings, but you’re losing the battle against the stalking foe called sleep [/sblock] [sblock=Harrigan Zhent]The paranoia of your lethal companion seems infective. The people in your compartiment are an odd bunch. There’s an arbites officer who seems to be dozing off, and a generally suspicious looking individual, badly dressed but well-armed, who seems to be nervous for one reason or another. The thuggish looking merc sitting across him looks to be a bodyguard of some sort, although you cannot imagine how a ganger would end up with a protector.[/sblock] [sblock=BruceMcLane] Your ratty companion is nervous, probably because there’s an arbitrator dozing off next to him. Unless the package he’s carrying is containing something that is against imperial law you should be safe. Another odd couple is sitting next to you. An imperial psyker, of all things. Voidborn, although he tries to hide it beneath his robe. You recognize the signs, the awkwardness, the way he furtively looks outside as if frightened by the mountain vista gently rolling by. His companion is something else. Body glove, combat training. The way her eyes keep darting around. Assassin, that one. Servant or safety valve? Unfortunately they’re not the most dangerous persons in the carriage. There’s a pair of passengers near the entrance of the train. One appears to be a minor noble of some sorts. Overdressed, over-groomed, armed with what looks like a gilded gun. But his bodyguard... A cold killer gaze and the movements of a panther. He’s dressed in loose-fitting but finely tailored clothing, and is armed with a sword. His eyes never rest on a single spot more then an instant, even if he’s distracted by the incessant talking of his companion.[/sblock] [sblock=Kestrel] You glance at the people in your compartment. There’s an arbitrator nearly dozing off. Next to her is a rat-faced individual. A ganger, most likely. You can see the bulges of two handguns under his jacket. It’s almost funny how he tries not to show his anxiety of sitting next to an arbitrator. He’s shielding something from her, looks to be a small package. His companion is more alert. A merc. Feral-worlder, probably Catachan or something very close. Well-armed. Looks like he can use his weapons. He’s alert, scoping out the dangers in the carriage, you included. Unfortunately they’re not the most dangerous persons in the carriage. There’s a pair of passengers near the entrance of the train. One appears to be a minor noble of some sorts. Overdressed, over-groomed, armed with what looks like a gilded gun. But his bodyguard... A cold killer gaze and the movements of a panther. He’s dressed in loose-fitting but finely tailored clothing, and is armed with a sword. His eyes never rest on a single spot more then an instant, even if he’s distracted by the incessant talking of his companion. You surreptitiously try to get a better look, but the throng of pilgrims is partially blocking him from view. And then, in the group of pilgrims, you see a movement, just for an instant, that you recognize. The chal’brae, rite of preparation, as practiced by the officio assassinorum. The physical movement for mental preparation proceeding imminent violence.[/sblock] You see a group of pilgrims getting up and heading towards the front of the carriage. [/QUOTE]
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