Joshua Randall
Legend
So make with the posting!
Wulf Ratbane's DARK HERESY
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
They huddled together across the street, eyeing the building for a while longer and conferring quietly.
“Are you hurt badly, Cutter?” Gunner asked.
Cutter eyed him curiously, before answering curtly, “No.”
A strange man approached them. His face was a mess of scars, his mouth a puckered hole of shattered teeth, and a good portion of his bald head was missing, replaced now with a metal plate.
“Gunner, Grim, and… Cutter, I assume?” the man said.
“Yes?” said Grim, turning to greet the man. He already had his carbine pointed at the stranger’s gut.
Cutter drew his pistol, too, warily eyeing the horrific figure. “Who’s the beastman now?” he muttered.
The man spread his hands. “Easy,” he said, “I’m no more pleased about this than you. They sent me.”
“ID?” Gunner demanded.
The man offered up the pre-arranged passcodes.
“My name is Dekko. I have certain talents I have been ordered to share with this group.”
“And those talents would be?” asked Grim.
Dekko opened his mouth to reply, but Gunner cut him off. “Is this the place for details?” he said, looking nervously up and down the street.
“No,” Dekko admitted. “But I didn’t want to eat lasfire.”
Grim snapped his carbine down.
Cutter still looked uneasy. To him, the man in his strange garb, and particularly that far-off look in his eyes, reminded Cutter too much of the Inquisitor who had been responsible for his… education.
Cutter whined. “Does he outrank us?”
Grim scoffed. “No, Cutter, he does not outrank us.”
Cutter sighed with relief. “Well,” he said, “we could use some more muscle.”
“I’m not exactly muscle,” Dekko said. “Are any of you injured?”
Gunner nodded towards Cutter. Cutter threw open his Reclamator long coat and pulled up his armor, revealing the wound in his belly. “Bitch shot me,” he growled.
“I can heal you,” Dekko said.
“If you’re givin’ out lovin’, I’m takin’,” Cutter said.
“Do we do this here in the street?” asked Dekko.
Cutter nodded and stepped back into the shadows of an alleyway. Dekko followed, a cloud of glowing ectoplasm already oozing from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Cutter squealed and scrambled back against the wall, but Dekko had already laid his hands on him.
The wound was gone.
“Hairy balls!” Cutter growled. His nose was scrunched up distastefully and his fingers probed for the wound.
Dekko turned, and saw that it was now Gunner who had his weapon leveled at him. “Are we cool with this?” Gunner whispered to Grim. Grim said nothing.
“I am no rogue,” said Dekko. “I am a sanctioned psyker.”
“Oh, sanctioned, are you?” said Gunner. “That’s all right then. That’ll make all the difference when you rip a daemon out of the warp to devour the lot of us.”
Cutter growled.
“You’re welcome,” said Dekko. “I hope I have proved my worth.”
Cutter’s lip curled. “Prove it when the bullets start blazing.”
“Are you hurt badly, Cutter?” Gunner asked.
Cutter eyed him curiously, before answering curtly, “No.”
A strange man approached them. His face was a mess of scars, his mouth a puckered hole of shattered teeth, and a good portion of his bald head was missing, replaced now with a metal plate.
“Gunner, Grim, and… Cutter, I assume?” the man said.
“Yes?” said Grim, turning to greet the man. He already had his carbine pointed at the stranger’s gut.
Cutter drew his pistol, too, warily eyeing the horrific figure. “Who’s the beastman now?” he muttered.
The man spread his hands. “Easy,” he said, “I’m no more pleased about this than you. They sent me.”
“ID?” Gunner demanded.
The man offered up the pre-arranged passcodes.
“My name is Dekko. I have certain talents I have been ordered to share with this group.”
“And those talents would be?” asked Grim.
Dekko opened his mouth to reply, but Gunner cut him off. “Is this the place for details?” he said, looking nervously up and down the street.
“No,” Dekko admitted. “But I didn’t want to eat lasfire.”
Grim snapped his carbine down.
Cutter still looked uneasy. To him, the man in his strange garb, and particularly that far-off look in his eyes, reminded Cutter too much of the Inquisitor who had been responsible for his… education.
Cutter whined. “Does he outrank us?”
Grim scoffed. “No, Cutter, he does not outrank us.”
Cutter sighed with relief. “Well,” he said, “we could use some more muscle.”
“I’m not exactly muscle,” Dekko said. “Are any of you injured?”
Gunner nodded towards Cutter. Cutter threw open his Reclamator long coat and pulled up his armor, revealing the wound in his belly. “Bitch shot me,” he growled.
“I can heal you,” Dekko said.
“If you’re givin’ out lovin’, I’m takin’,” Cutter said.
“Do we do this here in the street?” asked Dekko.
Cutter nodded and stepped back into the shadows of an alleyway. Dekko followed, a cloud of glowing ectoplasm already oozing from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Cutter squealed and scrambled back against the wall, but Dekko had already laid his hands on him.
The wound was gone.
“Hairy balls!” Cutter growled. His nose was scrunched up distastefully and his fingers probed for the wound.
Dekko turned, and saw that it was now Gunner who had his weapon leveled at him. “Are we cool with this?” Gunner whispered to Grim. Grim said nothing.
“I am no rogue,” said Dekko. “I am a sanctioned psyker.”
“Oh, sanctioned, are you?” said Gunner. “That’s all right then. That’ll make all the difference when you rip a daemon out of the warp to devour the lot of us.”
Cutter growled.
“You’re welcome,” said Dekko. “I hope I have proved my worth.”
Cutter’s lip curled. “Prove it when the bullets start blazing.”
Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
Okay, this story hour rules but I admit I have only a casual understanding of the WH40k universe. So: what's up with the psyker?
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
In D&D terms, psykers would be wild mages.
A better analogy actually would be to Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series. "Men who can channel" = psykers.
Hopefully one of those analogies does it for you.
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Sadly, we haven't played in a while. It got hard scheduling everyone.
I still have plenty of logs left to post, but if it's going to continue, we need to play again!
Just in case neither of Wulf's references gave you a clear understanding...
Psykers are individuals that can tap into the raw chaos of the Warp to accomplish some pretty incredible feats. Low-end psykers can heal, alter probability, generate lights, make themselves into near-perfect shots, soothe animals, or terrify crowds -- depending on which powers they selected.
High-end Psykers can modify their bodies, make other people's heads explode, root through your memories, incinerate entire squads of Guardsmen, or toss tanks around with their minds -- again, depending on their specialty and power selection.
They are the 'magic-users' of the WH40k universe.
Unfortunately... every single time they use their powers, they are tapping into the raw power and fury of the Warp -- pure Chaos. Every time a Psyker uses his powers, there is a chance that he will be unable to marshal his control and things will go very, very bad. This can be as simple as rotting all food within a certain radius or scaring animals and small children. It can be as bad as summoning demons from the Warp or becoming possessed by them himself. In the worst case -- although it's best for those WITH the psyker -- he can simply disappear, consumed forever by the Warp.
Playing a Psyker is a weird balance. You have all these crazy powers that can alter reality, but most of the time you don't want to use them. Still, it's nice to be able to shift into 'high-gear' when the party REALLY needs you. Just watch out for 9's on the dice when activating powers...
Ashrum the Black
Explorer
Once again, nice update Wulf. Hope you guys get your scheduling conflicts resolved as this story hour has so far been full of awsome.
-Ashrum
-Ashrum
