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For the emperor ! (IC thread - always recruiting )
- Thread starter DrZombie
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The bodyguard motions Kestrell, Zhent, McClane and Rat towards the noble.
[sblock=Kestrell] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
You won’t allow yourself to be distracted by memories of how you started on this path now. Finally, after two years of searching, hunting, you have your eyes on your target. One of the empires most hardened criminals, responsible for the death of innumerable officials and traders, and at least two Inquisitors. You study him from atop a low roof, looking for a killing shot. The target moves jerkily, hampered by a partially paralysed left arm and leg. All of the sudden he looks up, and your lasersight paints a dot between his eyes. The face, however, is one that has been haunting your dreams since you were a little girl. Father... [/sblock]
[sblock=McClane] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
Why do those old memories of the train carriage come back to you now? You have risen to glorious heights since then, your way to the top facilitated by your connections with the inquisition.
“General, you must give the order now. There is no time left. Lord Corbex gave the order for exterminatus himself.” The adjutant at your side says.
“McClane, don’t do this.” A disheveled man dressed in a uniform you haven’t seen in a long time pleads with you. “For thrones sake man, I still have an entire company of Catachan fighters still on the surface fighting rearguard action, trying to get as many civilians clear as possible. I only need an hour to get as many clear as I can.”
You look at the tactician’s screen. Your strike cruiser is on orbit, several ancient torpedoes loaded. Lost Tech weapons, given to you by the inquisition. Viral bombs, planet killers. Most of the planet map is covered in red symbols, simple runes depicting some of Urgaunt Habex most elite troops. Vicious chaos soldiers, trained psychopaths, already feasting on the corpses of citizens, revelling in the blood and destruction. Other runes depict the chaos spacevessels, moving into strike distance. If you wait, chances are you’ll be forced away from the ideal striking position, your chance at striking a blow at the elite troops gone, offering a planet to the enemy.
The bridge goes silent as you ponder the decision. [/sblock]
[sblock=Rat] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
You wonder at the striking similarities between the carnage in the train-carriage all those years ago and the one you see now. One of the main differences is that this time it’s just you and Inquisitor Zho. Another is that the swordfighter finally met his match. Well, almost anyway. He pulls his force-blade out of the still twitching corpse of the guardian, and coughs up some blood. His chest-wound is fatal. You’ve seen enough of ‘em to know, and so does he. He hands you a device. “Destroy ‘em all” he says, and slowly falls to his knees,then to the ground.
You look around in wonder. Here, at the inner sanctum, the shelves are filled with alien artifacts, their purpose unknown, but each and every one expensive beyond your wildest dreams. The previous owner lies headless behind his desk. The only sound is the rasping breath of Zhu.
This is it. Your chance to walk away, wealthy even beyond your wildest dreams. Disappear forever, set up a quiet life of luxury far away from it all. You look at the void-bomb in your hand. Nothing will be missed, since all will be destroyed.[/sblock]
[sblock=Zhent] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
After all this time the memories of that fateful day in that carriage come back. Even with all the fear and anguish of that day you welcome them, just to have some relief from this. You jerk awake, and almost cry out in agony. Your shoulders and arms burn with pain. You have lost all track of time hanging here in this cell. You can hear footsteps, cruel laughter. A key turns in the lock. Your tormentor appears, carrying a cloth sack. He chuckles. “We’ve had some visitors last night. Know ‘em?” he asks as he tips over the bag. Four heads roll out. Brutis. Kincaid. McClane. Rat. Your hart skips a beat when you realise one is missing. They didn’t get them all. They didn’t get the most dangerous woman you know. They didn’t get your Lover. Kestrell. You struggle to keep the tiny sliver of hope from showing in your face.
Then a high-pitched scream of agony breaks the silence. A voice you recognise, ‘though you’ve never heard her cry out in pain before.
“Oh, can you hear her sing?” the tormentor sighs. “Such a beautiful sound. Maybe I should pay her a visit, see if I can make her sing some more sweet songs.” Gleefully he rubs his hands and walks out. Then, just before leaving, he stops and turns around.
“We can still stop before she breaks, Zhent. You can stop it. Just say you’ll join us. You don’t even have to mean it. Just ask us to stop. And we’ll stop.”[/sblock]
[sblock=OOC] just in case you wonder, your characters cannot choose to disbelief this vision [/sblock]
[sblock=Kestrell] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
You won’t allow yourself to be distracted by memories of how you started on this path now. Finally, after two years of searching, hunting, you have your eyes on your target. One of the empires most hardened criminals, responsible for the death of innumerable officials and traders, and at least two Inquisitors. You study him from atop a low roof, looking for a killing shot. The target moves jerkily, hampered by a partially paralysed left arm and leg. All of the sudden he looks up, and your lasersight paints a dot between his eyes. The face, however, is one that has been haunting your dreams since you were a little girl. Father... [/sblock]
[sblock=McClane] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
Why do those old memories of the train carriage come back to you now? You have risen to glorious heights since then, your way to the top facilitated by your connections with the inquisition.
“General, you must give the order now. There is no time left. Lord Corbex gave the order for exterminatus himself.” The adjutant at your side says.
“McClane, don’t do this.” A disheveled man dressed in a uniform you haven’t seen in a long time pleads with you. “For thrones sake man, I still have an entire company of Catachan fighters still on the surface fighting rearguard action, trying to get as many civilians clear as possible. I only need an hour to get as many clear as I can.”
You look at the tactician’s screen. Your strike cruiser is on orbit, several ancient torpedoes loaded. Lost Tech weapons, given to you by the inquisition. Viral bombs, planet killers. Most of the planet map is covered in red symbols, simple runes depicting some of Urgaunt Habex most elite troops. Vicious chaos soldiers, trained psychopaths, already feasting on the corpses of citizens, revelling in the blood and destruction. Other runes depict the chaos spacevessels, moving into strike distance. If you wait, chances are you’ll be forced away from the ideal striking position, your chance at striking a blow at the elite troops gone, offering a planet to the enemy.
The bridge goes silent as you ponder the decision. [/sblock]
[sblock=Rat] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
You wonder at the striking similarities between the carnage in the train-carriage all those years ago and the one you see now. One of the main differences is that this time it’s just you and Inquisitor Zho. Another is that the swordfighter finally met his match. Well, almost anyway. He pulls his force-blade out of the still twitching corpse of the guardian, and coughs up some blood. His chest-wound is fatal. You’ve seen enough of ‘em to know, and so does he. He hands you a device. “Destroy ‘em all” he says, and slowly falls to his knees,then to the ground.
You look around in wonder. Here, at the inner sanctum, the shelves are filled with alien artifacts, their purpose unknown, but each and every one expensive beyond your wildest dreams. The previous owner lies headless behind his desk. The only sound is the rasping breath of Zhu.
This is it. Your chance to walk away, wealthy even beyond your wildest dreams. Disappear forever, set up a quiet life of luxury far away from it all. You look at the void-bomb in your hand. Nothing will be missed, since all will be destroyed.[/sblock]
[sblock=Zhent] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
After all this time the memories of that fateful day in that carriage come back. Even with all the fear and anguish of that day you welcome them, just to have some relief from this. You jerk awake, and almost cry out in agony. Your shoulders and arms burn with pain. You have lost all track of time hanging here in this cell. You can hear footsteps, cruel laughter. A key turns in the lock. Your tormentor appears, carrying a cloth sack. He chuckles. “We’ve had some visitors last night. Know ‘em?” he asks as he tips over the bag. Four heads roll out. Brutis. Kincaid. McClane. Rat. Your hart skips a beat when you realise one is missing. They didn’t get them all. They didn’t get the most dangerous woman you know. They didn’t get your Lover. Kestrell. You struggle to keep the tiny sliver of hope from showing in your face.
Then a high-pitched scream of agony breaks the silence. A voice you recognise, ‘though you’ve never heard her cry out in pain before.
“Oh, can you hear her sing?” the tormentor sighs. “Such a beautiful sound. Maybe I should pay her a visit, see if I can make her sing some more sweet songs.” Gleefully he rubs his hands and walks out. Then, just before leaving, he stops and turns around.
“We can still stop before she breaks, Zhent. You can stop it. Just say you’ll join us. You don’t even have to mean it. Just ask us to stop. And we’ll stop.”[/sblock]
[sblock=OOC] just in case you wonder, your characters cannot choose to disbelief this vision [/sblock]
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[sblock=GM]You won’t allow yourself to be distracted by memories of how you started on this path now. Finally, after two years of searching, hunting, you have your eyes on your target. One of the empires most hardened criminals, responsible for the death of innumerable officials and traders, and at least two Inquisitors. You study him from atop a low roof, looking for a killing shot. The target moves jerkily, hampered by a partially paralysed left arm and leg. All of the sudden he looks up, and your lasersight paints a dot between his eyes. The face, however, is one that has been haunting your dreams since you were a little girl. Father...
Kestel's mouth opens in shock, or protest perhaps. Her mind reels. Seeing his face calls up dozens of memories she'd long thought were gone forever. Memories of childhood. Of being happy. Her eyes sting. It wasn't fair. How could they expect her to kill her own father?
But then, what about the crew of the Kesh? Seventy fathers and mothers...and some children too...navlocked and sent into a star to cover his tracks. What about the spouses and children of the thirteen Arbitrators, twenty-eight Guardsmen, and two Inquisitors killed in the line of duty trying to apprehend him. Didn't they deserve to have fathers?
He'd made his choice, long ago. She'd made hers as well. Those two choices led, inevitably, to this moment. The Emperor was her father now. Humanity was her family. Not any one human. All of Humanity.
His body jerked as she put another shot into him, to make sure. The first bullet had flown the instant the shot had been clear; her reflexes operating far faster than her shocked brain. Her fingers had known the right answer, and had fired; trusting the rest of her to reason it out in her own tme.
"This is Kestrel," she said softly, her mastoid comm implant picking up the subvocalization perfectly. "Target is down. Target is eliminated."[/sblock]
Kestel's mouth opens in shock, or protest perhaps. Her mind reels. Seeing his face calls up dozens of memories she'd long thought were gone forever. Memories of childhood. Of being happy. Her eyes sting. It wasn't fair. How could they expect her to kill her own father?
But then, what about the crew of the Kesh? Seventy fathers and mothers...and some children too...navlocked and sent into a star to cover his tracks. What about the spouses and children of the thirteen Arbitrators, twenty-eight Guardsmen, and two Inquisitors killed in the line of duty trying to apprehend him. Didn't they deserve to have fathers?
He'd made his choice, long ago. She'd made hers as well. Those two choices led, inevitably, to this moment. The Emperor was her father now. Humanity was her family. Not any one human. All of Humanity.
His body jerked as she put another shot into him, to make sure. The first bullet had flown the instant the shot had been clear; her reflexes operating far faster than her shocked brain. Her fingers had known the right answer, and had fired; trusting the rest of her to reason it out in her own tme.
"This is Kestrel," she said softly, her mastoid comm implant picking up the subvocalization perfectly. "Target is down. Target is eliminated."[/sblock]
[sblock=GM]
Zhent pauses only a moment, then the anguish on his face turns to a perverse glee.
"Why would I do that?" he says quietly. "Why, when her being here, and alive, was the only thing that kept me from finally letting go?
"Your kind never understand, what it really is to channel the warp. These ridiculous 'powers' are just what we manage to eke out of a connection we're constantly trying to keep closed. Every time, we're just a slip away from turning into what we were born to be: a gateway, for hell to come spilling out into this world, to consume this facility and everyone in it--or better, drag them back alive and screaming. Every moment, awake or asleep, we're fighting to keep that door closed.
"So you kill her, because she's the only reason I don't give in. Rip her head off. Just know that the moment you do, I throw the doors to hell wide open and die laughing."[/sblock]
|
Zhent pauses only a moment, then the anguish on his face turns to a perverse glee.
"Why would I do that?" he says quietly. "Why, when her being here, and alive, was the only thing that kept me from finally letting go?
"Your kind never understand, what it really is to channel the warp. These ridiculous 'powers' are just what we manage to eke out of a connection we're constantly trying to keep closed. Every time, we're just a slip away from turning into what we were born to be: a gateway, for hell to come spilling out into this world, to consume this facility and everyone in it--or better, drag them back alive and screaming. Every moment, awake or asleep, we're fighting to keep that door closed.
"So you kill her, because she's the only reason I don't give in. Rip her head off. Just know that the moment you do, I throw the doors to hell wide open and die laughing."[/sblock]
Ruiktheforgotten
First Post
i fight for justice.....and there is no greater justice then what the emperor decides is law.....i accept
The Joker
First Post
Brutis cursed as he heard the familiar sound of his weapon failing to fire. Jammed. As he ducked behind the cover of the row of seats to unjam his gun, he couldn’t help but notice the foul blasphemies that the cultists where speaking went silent. As he slid the now ruined shell out, he popped up over the seats and looked around. Seeing all the worshipers of chaos dead, he flipped the safety back on and stood his full height. As he stepped into the isle to witness the cleric hit the floor, he heard the hiss of the train door opening behind him and the other two men that where sent to watch over him run in. as the man made his offer, bruits froze, realizing who he was. He was so dumbfounded that he didn’t even hear the older one shouting at him to freeze.
When he snapped to, he looked down to the floor and saw one of the cultists still moving. As he told him to drop his weapon, bruits deployed his bayonet and stabbed the weapon like a spear into the cultist’s neck, and at once, he stopped moving. Releasing his grip, the weapon stood on its own and he raised his hands and dropped to his knees. The two men moved up, the older one went to secure his hands, while the younger one spoke to the grope, a little shaken by the gore all around him. “Don’t worry; we are taking this criminal into custody.” As bruits stood, he spoke for the second time. “I would die for the emperor and would gladly accept, but my life is forfeit. The choice is not mine to make.”
When he snapped to, he looked down to the floor and saw one of the cultists still moving. As he told him to drop his weapon, bruits deployed his bayonet and stabbed the weapon like a spear into the cultist’s neck, and at once, he stopped moving. Releasing his grip, the weapon stood on its own and he raised his hands and dropped to his knees. The two men moved up, the older one went to secure his hands, while the younger one spoke to the grope, a little shaken by the gore all around him. “Don’t worry; we are taking this criminal into custody.” As bruits stood, he spoke for the second time. “I would die for the emperor and would gladly accept, but my life is forfeit. The choice is not mine to make.”
jackslate45
First Post
[sblock=GM]Wealth beyond his wildest dreams. He would clear all his debts. All his loans. And to boot, he would be free of the Inquisition for...
Are you sure? That nagging voice again... It IS the Inquisition. The Left hand of the Emperor himself. They will know that Zho is dead. They might even know that you survived.
No! I dont want anything to do with it. I am sick of this life. I want out of it! How many times has my neck been stuck out for Zho?! My information sources used for his investigations?! I should be rewarded!
All in the name of the Emperor!
And yet, for the Emperor, you would deny Zho's last request?
...He had no counter for 'Rat's' question. Finally, 'Rat' took Zho's force-blade and communicator, and set the void bomb. Rat takes one last look around, before leaving the room. The sound of the bomb ticking is the last thing he hears as the doors slam shut behind him.
[/sblock]
Are you sure? That nagging voice again... It IS the Inquisition. The Left hand of the Emperor himself. They will know that Zho is dead. They might even know that you survived.
No! I dont want anything to do with it. I am sick of this life. I want out of it! How many times has my neck been stuck out for Zho?! My information sources used for his investigations?! I should be rewarded!
All in the name of the Emperor!
And yet, for the Emperor, you would deny Zho's last request?
...He had no counter for 'Rat's' question. Finally, 'Rat' took Zho's force-blade and communicator, and set the void bomb. Rat takes one last look around, before leaving the room. The sound of the bomb ticking is the last thing he hears as the doors slam shut behind him.
[/sblock]
When the door opens the bodyguard stifles a curse. The moment it closes again he makes a throwing motion with his arm. Two metal spikes fly through the carriage, their movements in defiance of the laws of gravity. With a whet gurgling noise the two wardens fall to the ground. The objects twirl around and return to the outstreched hand of the bodyguard.
"you are right. It is not."
He walks over to the corpses, pulls out the two controllers and tosses one to Kestrell.
"you are right. It is not."
He walks over to the corpses, pulls out the two controllers and tosses one to Kestrell.
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The bodyguard motions Brutis and Kincaid towards the noble.
[sblock=Brutis] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
You wake up with acrid smoke burning in your lungs. You must have been knocked out for a second. Strange how you remembered that episode in the carriage all those years ago. Your service to the Inquisition has been quite interesting since then. They have dangled your freedom in front of you like a carrot for a donkey. You shake your head and try to clear your thoughts. The first thing you see is your controller lying on the floor. The inquisitioner, Zhu, is unconscious. The rhino-transport you were travelling in lies on his side, and you can smell the reek of burning promethium. Outside, chaos rules, in more then one way. You can see the flash of lasrifles in the distance, and hear the screaming, explosions and cackling fires of combat.
All it takes is a killing blow, and your freedom awaits.[/sblock]
[sblock=Kincaid.] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
Why do those old memories of the train carriage come back to you now? Anything to take your mind of this horror. The main corridor of the Hive iis blocked with refugees. Wailing children, hungry, cold, terrified. Weeping women, shocked at what has befallen their planet. The masses try to reach the spaceport, but the road is blocked by a platoon of Arbites.
“What is the delay, Kincaid?”
The voice alone gives you the shivers.Lord Inquisitor Corbex Crovax. No need to turn around, to face his emaciated form, a dry husk of a man. No need to meet his black, emotionless, allseeing eyes.
“You know what is at stake here, Kincaid. We need to get to the temple. Those documents need to be retrieved before the enemy gets here. There is no way over the surface. The only way is through them. We have no more time.”
[/sblock]
[sblock=Brutis] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
You wake up with acrid smoke burning in your lungs. You must have been knocked out for a second. Strange how you remembered that episode in the carriage all those years ago. Your service to the Inquisition has been quite interesting since then. They have dangled your freedom in front of you like a carrot for a donkey. You shake your head and try to clear your thoughts. The first thing you see is your controller lying on the floor. The inquisitioner, Zhu, is unconscious. The rhino-transport you were travelling in lies on his side, and you can smell the reek of burning promethium. Outside, chaos rules, in more then one way. You can see the flash of lasrifles in the distance, and hear the screaming, explosions and cackling fires of combat.
All it takes is a killing blow, and your freedom awaits.[/sblock]
[sblock=Kincaid.] The Noble takes hands into his blood-caked hand and traces the lines of your palm with a crimson-stained finger, leaving traces of congealed blood in it’s wake. He looks you straight in the eyes and the world seems to spin away.
Why do those old memories of the train carriage come back to you now? Anything to take your mind of this horror. The main corridor of the Hive iis blocked with refugees. Wailing children, hungry, cold, terrified. Weeping women, shocked at what has befallen their planet. The masses try to reach the spaceport, but the road is blocked by a platoon of Arbites.
“What is the delay, Kincaid?”
The voice alone gives you the shivers.Lord Inquisitor Corbex Crovax. No need to turn around, to face his emaciated form, a dry husk of a man. No need to meet his black, emotionless, allseeing eyes.
“You know what is at stake here, Kincaid. We need to get to the temple. Those documents need to be retrieved before the enemy gets here. There is no way over the surface. The only way is through them. We have no more time.”
[/sblock]
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Kestrell, Rat, Zhent.
Your mind reels from whatever scene it was that you have seen. Images of the future? Phantoms? Hidden fears? Whatever it was, whatever obstacle you faced, face it you did. You feel the Touch of the Emperor itself, or so it seems. You shake your head, trying to clear the cobwebs, and you realise you are still in the carriage
[sblock=OOC] You gain one permanent fate point [/sblock]
Kestrell easily catches the small object the bodyguard throws in her direction. It is a remote switch of some kind, a smal green light pulsing perfectly in sync with the little green light on the explosive collar of the penal legion guardsman.
Your mind reels from whatever scene it was that you have seen. Images of the future? Phantoms? Hidden fears? Whatever it was, whatever obstacle you faced, face it you did. You feel the Touch of the Emperor itself, or so it seems. You shake your head, trying to clear the cobwebs, and you realise you are still in the carriage
[sblock=OOC] You gain one permanent fate point [/sblock]
Kestrell easily catches the small object the bodyguard throws in her direction. It is a remote switch of some kind, a smal green light pulsing perfectly in sync with the little green light on the explosive collar of the penal legion guardsman.
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