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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DrZombie" data-source="post: 5587186" data-attributes="member: 15640">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]</blockquote>

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