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MaliciousOnion
Sep 23, 2009

Ignorance, the root of all evil


You don't remember what he (she?) looked or sounded like, you only remember the offer. Go to Baraspine and wait - that was the easy part. The next part would be more difficult. Breaking out of and taking control of an entire Black Ship was almost suicidal, if it weren't for your master's very convincing plan. It seemed they had it all laid out, everything was planned. There would be an opportunity, a distraction once aboard, and a cache of equipment secreted on the ship. From there, it would be up to you to make it to the bridge and seize control. The next step of the plan would reveal itself there, apparently.



You had heard of the Black Ships, of course. You had heard the stories of children being taken from their parents and herded onto shuttles, to be taken to orbit. What you hadn't heard about was the conditions aboard the ships themselves. Psychic wards designed to both dampen your powers and confuse your mind. Blaring hymnals and strobing lights only served to amplify the disorentation brought on by your severance from the warp, and you began to doubt if you would be able to achieve your goals. Escorted into your cell, you could do nothing but wait, hoping you would still have the mental strength when the time came.

Despite the cacophony, you could feel through the deck floor the moment the ship got underway; a deep, resonating vibration that shook your very bones. It somehow seemed designed to add to the dissonance. It continued for days, weeks, months - you're not sure which - then stopped as suddenly as it appeared. Then, it happened. The moment you had been waiting for. The unceasing sounds and light suddenly stopped, as did the overwhelming pressure on your mind. It became both deafeningly silent and abundantly loud, as thousands of psykers cried out in a mixture of relief and anguish at the sudden change. The silence was short-lived, though, as red lights soon flashed and sonorous klaxons started to wail. Distracting though they were, the emergency alarms were nothing compared to the deliberate sensory overload you had been subjected to. Outside your cell, people could be seen rushing through the dark, briefly illuminated in blood-red hues. The door of your cell, and those of your neighbours, roll open with a clatter. Freedom, of a sorts. You step out into the cavernous cell block and look around. A number of cell guards are beginning to rally; it won't take them long to notice your escape.



Let's go. You've just emerged from a cell somewhere along the long edge of a rectangular cell-block some 100 by 50 metres in dimension. There's perhaps two dozen other psykers of varying age, some of which are venturing out but most of whom are too frightened or confused to do anything. There's a dozen or so guards running about; they're a bit disorganised at the moment. You currently have nothing on you but your clothes/armour. I won't be bothering with distances or anything like that yet; if you want to be within a certain range of a guard, assume you can move freely to get into position. Also, I'd like to keep combat smooth and free-flowing, so if you can give me an overall plan for your actions, we can run a few rounds at once.

Remember to post your full character sheets and combat blocks, as well as roll for initiative. Feel free to make your own rolls, including focus power tests. Also, please outline in your first post (IC or OOC) your reasons for accepting the mission. Something your master has offered you in return, or something you want of your own volition.

Players
John Dyne - Alasdair Parr
Werix - Ellie "Prophet" Guttenburg
Mad Moxxi - Justine Serkoff
Waci - Céleste
FireSight - Var'Son'Tish

Group XP: 3,000

MaliciousOnion fucked around with this message at 21:09 on Jan 5, 2015

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Mad Moxxi
Apr 29, 2010

It's tough being cute.
Justine

It was relieving to get out of there, mostly intact. Even the voices sighed relief. She looked around, and immediately headed for the exit (yelling almost obnoxiously as she does), dodging any guards along the way, and blocking any she couldn't. She was one step closer to going home and seeing her sister again.

Initiative 13
<imouto> Cara: 13 (1d10+4=9)

Headed for the meetup point. Lots of dodging and Telekinetic Shield...ing.


pre:
WS     BS     S      T      Ag     Int    Per    WP     Fel
22     27     30     35     45     25     45     65     50

Wounds: 13/13        IP: 2/2      Fatigue: 0
Half Move: 4 Full Move: 8 Charge: 12 Run: 24
Dodge: 45
Parry: 17
Stealth: 25

Armour: Arms 3, Body 3, Head 0, Legs 3
Weapons:
Good Sword  Melee  1d10+3R  Pen 0  Balanced
Laspistol  30m  S/2/-  1d10+2 E  Pen 0  Clip: 30/30  Rld: Half; Reliable

Noteworthy Talents:
Child of the Warp (Hoarfrost)
Jaded
pre:
Name: Justine Serkoff
Career: Psyker
Alignment: Unaligned
Pride: Devotion
Disgrace: Greed
Motivation: Perfection


Characteristics:
WS:  22 (25 +  0) [-3 Motivation]
BS:  27 (25 +  5) [-3 Motivation]
S:   30 (25 + 10) [-5 Pride]
T:   35 (25 + 10)
Ag:  45 (25 + 15) [+5 Advance]
Int: 25 (25 +  0)
Per: 45 (25 + 20)
WP:  65 (25 + 20) [+5 Career] [+5 Pride] [+5 Motivation] [+5 Advance]
Fel: 50 (25 + 15) [+5 Advance]

Wounds 13/13
Infamy  2/2 
IP: 22
CP:  9


Skills:

Awareness
Bluff +10
Common Lore (Ecclisiarchy)
Common Lore (Imperium)
Deceive +10
Dodge
Forbidden Lore (Psykers)
Psyniscience +10
Trade (Astrographer)


Talents:

Child of the Warp (Hoarfrost)
Jaded
Weapon Training (Flame, Las, Primary)


Traits:

Overwhelming Need (-10 to Commerce checks)
Psy Rating 4 (Unbound)
The Quick and the Dead


Psy Powers

- Unaligned
  - Doom Bolt

- Telekinesis
   - Mind Over Matter
   - Telekinetic Shield

- Pyromancy
   - Manifest Flame
   - Fire Bolt
   - Fire Barrage
   - Fire Storm


Gear:

Common Laspistol
Good Sword
Flak Cloak
Psy-focus
Dataslate filled with arane lore


XP Spent           3,000/3,000

Willpower +5               250
Psyniscience +10           350
Deceive +10                350
Weapon Training (Flame)    250
Fire Barrage               250
Fire Storm                 500
Bluff                      200
Bluff +10                  350
Fellowship +5              250
Agility +5                 250

Mad Moxxi fucked around with this message at 23:40 on Jan 5, 2015

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013
Ellie "Prophet" Guttenburg


Unlike some of the others, the time in the Black Ship was almost a vacation. While the conditions were hellish compared to any she ever experienced in the Guard or among the Traitor Legions, it gave her a reprieve from Him, the voice that had been her constant companion for most of her life. When she was younger it was her imaginary friend Cassie; when a teenager it was her rampant imagination keeping itself busy during the long grox drives on the frontier world she was from. It was only in adulthood, while she was in the Guard, did the voice make it's true purpose known.

The voice was "Prophet" and it was some daemon of Tzeentch that had been gnawing at her mind since she was old enough to understand speech. It revealed its grand scheme to her on the eve before she killed four Sororitas and 24 Guardsmen to escape this very fate of the Black Ships. She had been with Prophet too long; there is no way she would have been sanctioned, it told her, she would either have been killed, or sent to the Golden Throne to be sacrificed to the corpse god. No, she was gifted, she had the natural ability to see the strings of fate and select the most likely outcome. This ability was at its most clear for Ellie while she was behind a gun.

Prophet had helped her to master some of this power, but it came at a price, she had to let more and more of it into her head to speak with her, whisper it's vile things into her mind. As the ship lurched to a stop, it wasted no time,

Yesss my little Ellie, it has beeen ssssoooo long. It is time we plucked the skeins of fate, thiisss is but one step on the road to your greatnesss. Let us find Ender of Faaatees.

She shook her head, instantly wishing whatever had dampened her psychic ability was back on. Given it wasn't she would have to make her way to the gear stash point. taking advantage of the confusion, she tries to leave, hoping no guard tries to stop her in the Chaos.She needed to get this completed. Her benefactor promised to help her better integrate with Prophet, to give her some power over the daemon, to better handle this daemonic voice.

e: added the info about why she's doing this.

pre:
Name: Ellie "Prophet" Guttenburg
Career: Renegade
Alignment: Tzeentch
Pride: Foresight
Disgrace: Dread
Motivation: Perfection


Characteristics:
WS:  33=(25 +5) +3[arch]  
BS:  58=(25 +20) +3[arch]+5[motivation] +5[advance]
S:   32=(25 +10) -3[motivation] 
T:   32=(25 +10) -3[motivation]
Ag:  35=(25 +10) 
Int: 40=(25 +10) +5 [advance]
Per: 60=(25 +20)+5[pride]+5[disgrace]+5[advance] 
WP:  35=(25 +10) 
Fel: 25=(25 +5) -5[pride]

Wounds 15/15
IP:  2/2 
Infamy: 27=3+24
CP: 6=5+1

Skills:
Common Lore (war, Imperial guard, Imperium) 
Linguistics (Low Gothic)
Trade (Scrimshawer)
Athletics
Awareness
Dodge +10
Parry
Psyniscience +20
Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis)
Common Lore (War) 
Operate (aeronautica)
Command
Stealth
Medicae
Scrutiny

Talents:
Jaded
Quick Draw
Rapid Reload, 
Weapon Training (Chain, Las, Primary, SP, bolt)
Heavy Weapon Training (SP)
combat sense
Marksman
Disarm
Hip Shooting
Psy Rating 2
Deadeye shot

Traits:
The Quick and the Dead
Androit: Ballistic Skill

Psy Powers
Precognition
Precog dodge (free 200 exp)
Precog Strike 

Gear:
Good Craftsmanship Boltgun
Best Las pistol
Best Chainsword
Carapace Armor
Medkit
Dataslate with annotated version of Tactica Imperialis
Common quality long las w/ extended mag and red dot sight (heirloom item, doomed)
Camoline cloak
Common craftsmanship autopistol with belt fed, silencer, and photo sight

XP Spent  3,000 /3,000
Precognition 100
Precog strike 300
psyniscience known 100[T]
Psyniscience trained 200[T]
Psyniscience experienced 400[T]
Cursed heirloom 250
BS simple 250
perception simple 250
psy rating 2 750
Deadeye shot 200[T]
Int simple 100 [T]
Scrutiny known 100 [T]

Werix fucked around with this message at 03:23 on Feb 18, 2015

chin up everything sucks
Jan 29, 2012

Var'Son'Tish



"And so the hunt begins." A cruel smile crosses the hunters lips as he steps clear of his cell. Immediately his eyes are drawn to the few uniformed guards who are scurrying through the chaos. For a few heartbeats he hesitates, taking in the actions of each of the guards in turn, and the little details on how they moved. A moment later, his legs pumped into movement as he raced towards the nearest armed guards back, his hands raised to chop at the mans neck.

Attacking the nearest guard from behind. Unarmed warrior, so I deal lethal damage with my fists. Going to disable as many guards as I can, quietly, while taking their weapons.

pre:
Name: Var'Son'Tish (Var, Son of Tish)
Archetype: Renegade
Pride: Martial Prowess
Disgrace: Dread
Motivation: Legacy
Alignment: Khorne

WS:  53
BS:  33
St:  50
To:  30
Ag:  40
Int: 21
Per: 50
WP:  35
Fel: 30
Inf: 29
Corruption:  5
Wounds: 15

Skills:
Athletics
Awareness
Dodge + 10
Intimidate
Medicae
Operate (Surface)
Parry
Psyniscience + 10
Survival

Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis)
Common Lore (War)


Traits:
Adroit (Perception)
Psyker


Talents:
Weapon Training (Chain, Las, Primary, SP, Flame, Bolt, Power)

Ambidextrous
Combat Sense
Jaded
Orthoproxy
Pity The Weak
Psy Rating (1)
Quick Draw
Rapid Reload
Step Aside
Sure Strike
Takedown
Unarmed Warrior


Powers:
Mind Probe


Gear:
Good Boltgun
Common Power Mace
Carapace Armour
Medikit
Dataslate w/ annotated tactica imperialis
Common Power Stake (1d10+7 pen 5, power, unwieldy, +1d10 damage vs psykers)



XP Log:
Weapon Training (Power) - 250
Psyniscience (Known) - 250
Psyniscience (Trained) - 500
Strength (Simple) - 100
Perception (Simple) - 250
Orthoproxy - 250
Willpower (Simple) - 250
Unarmed Warrior - 200
Pity The Weak - 200
Step Aside - 750

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?

Alasdair Parr

Ali stretches and groans, his back popping and his limbs creaking as he gets up off his bed. He looks up blearily at the lack of light and the lack of horrible music, and gives a half-awake grin. "Fuckin' right, mate. poo poo was gettin' old." He digs into his ears and pulls out the earplugs he had secreted away before being picked up, tossing them onto the floor and digging his pinkies into his ear, wiggling it to clear it. It wasn't his first time in a jail cell, but most of the Arbites places didn't pipe in the horrible, tweety, farty music that the Ecclesiarchy liked. He'd taken the job because he was going to take over someone else's life. The pay for this would get him great reconstructive surgery, and get him the papers to be alive again, and then he could play again. Oh man, did he want to play again.

Climbing off his little cot, he pokes his head out the door, glancing from side to side. There were still guards, but man, he knew cops couldn't brawl. Ali'd been in enough mosh pits and riots to know how to throw a punch, and he grinned inwardly. He'd been laying low for so long he hadn't had a chance to get in a good scrap, and the thought of it makes the inside of his elbows itch. He knew there were others on board, and they all had gear and what not, but Ali had a feeling none of them had packed the lunchbox he had. Stepping out into the hall, Ali tapped the first guard he could find on the shoulder. "Oi, oval office! I found this in me cell, you think it's important?"

As soon as the guard turned and looked down, Ali put his hand on the man's shoulder and swung an uppercut square for the idiot's teeth. He loved that gag.


Moving up behind a guard and punching him in the face where he has no armor. Aim and called shot, so 53 + 10 + 0, and possibly +30 for being unaware, so anything from hitting at 63 to 93.

1d10+4 damage, and if I crit I add 3 to the total thanks to Street Fighting.



Name: Alasdair Parr
Career: Renegade
Alignment: Slaanesh
Pride: Charm
Disgrace: Hubris
Motivation: Legacy


Characteristics:
WS: 25+3+20+5
BS: 25+3+10
S: 25+20
T: 25-5+20
Ag: 25+20
Int: 25-4-4
Per: 25
WP: 25
Fel: 25+5+20

Wounds: 5/15
Infamy : 31
IP:
CP: 5


Skills:
Common Lore (Any Two, War
Linguistics (Low Gothic)
Trade (Performer)
Athletics
Awareness
Dodge +10
Parry +10
Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis)
Common Lore (War)
Operate (any one)
Intimidate
Stealth
Tech Use

Talents:
Jaded
Quick Draw
Weapon Training (Chain, Las, Primary, SP, Bolt)
Combat Sense
Sure Strike
Double Team
Unarmed Warrior
Street Fighting
Unarmed Master
Ambidextrous
Psy Rating 4
Precise Blow
Two Weapon Wielder (Melee)
Blade Dancer


Traits:
Quick and the Dead
Adroit (Fel)
Psyker


Psy Powers
Ecstatic Oblivion
Doombolt

Gear:
Good Craftsmanship Boltgun

Good Craftsmanship Bolt Pistol
Best Craftsmanship Chainsword
Carapace Armour
medikit
dataslate
best craftsmanship bass

XP Spent 3,000/3,000
Precise Blow 300
TWW (Melee) 500
Blade Dancer 750
WS +5 250
Dodge +10 200
Swift Attack 750
Ecstatic Oblivion 250

Acquisitions:
12 doses of Barrage (-10 Rare, 4 sets of 3 +0)
12 doses of Manic (+10 average, 4 sets of 3 +0)
3 doses of Satrophine (-20 Very Rare, single set of 3 +10)

John Dyne fucked around with this message at 04:32 on Jan 30, 2015

Waci
May 30, 2011

A boy and his dog.

Céleste

Céleste walks out of the cell casually, looking around her. All these people, caged up like animals, just for the crime of being born with a talent many lacked and most feared. Deciding that, like she had not long ago, they needed to hear the truth of their talents and of the gods, she looks at the crowd of prisoners and raises her voice. "Come with us. You have been deceived, your well-meaning compliance abused by those who would sooner kill us all that let a single one of us see the truth. If you're here, you can feel the truth. Come with us and embrace it."

Charm TN 68 to get the other prisoners to be more on our side than the jailors'.

pre:
Name: Céleste
Career: Apostate 
Pride: Artistry (+1 infamy, +3 Int, +3 Fel, -3 WS, -3 BS)
Disgrace: Naïve (+5 corruption, -10 to all Fear and Pinning tests)
Motivation: Curiosity (+2 Infamy, -4 Wil)
Alignment: Slaanesh

WS: 22=25-3
BS: 22=25-3
Str: 30=25+5
Tgh: 30=25+5
Agi: 40=25+15
Int: 53=25+20+3+5
Per: 50=25+20+5
WP: 36=25+15-4
Fel: 58=25+20+5+3+5

Wounds: 14
Infamy: 30=24+3+1+2
Corruption: 10=5+5 

Skills:
Awareness
Charm +10
Command
Deceive
Scholastic Lore (Chymistry, Botany, Occult)
Forbidden Lore (The Warp, Psykers, Daemonology)
Common Lore (History of Ballroom Dances)
Inquiry +10
Dodge
Commerce
Logic
Trade (Gardener, Dancer)
Medicae
Scrutiny
Psyniscience

Talents:
Air of Authority
Hatred (Inquisition)
Peer (Nobility)
Total Recall
Unshakeable Will
Weapon Training (Las, Primary)
Radiant Presence
Mimic
Inspire Wrath
Psy Rating 2
Favoured by the Warp
Demagogue

Psychic Powers:
Precognition
Glimpse
Thought Sending
Mind Probe
Cedron’s Twin

Gear:
Good-Craftsmanship Laspistol
Best-Craftsmanship Sword
Chaos symbol pendant 
Unholy tomes
Psy Focus
A Magic Dress (functions as a Tarnor Mimic-Mask and Mesh Armour)
Medikit
Rituals Kit

Traits:
The Quick and the Dead
Serpent’s Tongue
Psyker

Mutations and rewards:
Projectile Attack

Exp Purchases (3000/3000)
Simple Fel -100
Demagogue -400
Psyniscience -200
Thought Sending -100
Scrutiny -200
Psy Rating 2 -750
Medicae -250
Mind Probe -250
Simple Perception -250
Simple Intelligence -250
Cedron’s Twin -250

MaliciousOnion
Sep 23, 2009

Ignorance, the root of all evil
Hoping to take advantage of the confusion, Ellie and Justine scamper and slink along the walls of the prison block, seeking out the passage to the next area, and the hidden maintenance within. They reach the door, the numbers "09" emblazoned offensively upon it, only to find it shut. A small console next to the door winks invitingly. The two escapees examine it and quickly realise they won't be going anywhere without an access card.

Meanwhile, under the cover of the confusion, Var'Son'Tish and Alasdair move up behind their marks and strike. Despite their training, the two guards are caught unawares. Var'Son'Tish takes out his man with a swift neck chop, followed by ramming the guard's head into the floor as he goes limp. Alasdair has a more difficult time, as his first strike isn't clean, giving the guard an opportunity to rally and fight back. Locked in a grapple, the two twist and circle until Alasdair rams his head into the guard's, disorienting him long enough for the escapee to crush his windpipe with a swift jab.

A short distance away, the unknown woman's voice rings out unnaturally clear through the wailing sirens, causing the nearby psykers to pause and look to her. They glance about fearfully, before most of them continue to run and seek shelter or escape. Four, however, make their way to her: a middle-aged mutant with both arms on the left of his body, a pair of teenage girls who look to be sisters, and a young boy barely taller than her waist. They look at Celeste hopefully and the mutant asks in a phlegmy voice, "you got a plan?"

The remaining guards have now rallied, and spot the knot of prisoners around Celeste, as well as the two women trying to open the door. Splitting up, they begin heading toward each of the groups.



Var'Son'Tish and Alasdair each find a shock maul and ident card on their victims.

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013
Ellie "Prophet" Guttenburg

Ellie glares at the other woman as they meet at the exit door, before giving a quick smile, "I'm Ellie." she says quick and to the point before examining the door lock, muttering "feth" under her breath. She then spots the guards that begin to approach, and nudges Justine. "You one of the psykers that can shoot lightning or something? My powers only really help when I've got a weapon in my hand."

Even with that said, her vision begins to blur as the effects of Prophet make themselves known. Each of the approaching guards start to blur as if many of them occupy the same space at once, but are moving in slightly different ways. Then the blurs start to break out as they move across the room, all in different directions at different speeds and with different posture. Finally dozens terminate in front of her, all the blurs moving at once striking at different body parts. The best option is to avoid these blows, and take the weapon from them, but which would be the blow to dodge?

First step: manifesting precog strike with a PUSH, at a psy rating of 4. TN for the test is 90= 80(Per and psyni)-10(test difficulty)+20(5xpsy rating 4)
Second step, using full round to disarm. It is an opposed WS check. If I pass my precog strike the TN is 55; if I fail, it is 35.

If I get hit manifest precog dodge at UNFETTERED psy rating of 2. TN is 80= 80(per and psyni)-10 (test DC)+10(psy rating). Pass means they miss; gently caress the dodge skill.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Alasdair

Headbutting the guard had been exhilarating. Punching him in the throat had been a thrill. And even though he was going down, Ali grabbed the guard by the shoulders and drove a knee into his gut, before shoving him backwards. "Fuckin' pigs, mate! Ha!" He hadn't felt this alive in years; ever since he'd laid low, he hadn't gotten in a single scrap, and the drugs only did so much for him. But this, knocking out some poor chump's teeth with his forehead; THIS was living. Clenching his fists, he sets himself to get ready to rock on the next group of guards, when he hears the woman behind him mention shooting lightning. He turns to her and gives a mocking salute. "Alasdair Parr, bassist for Rules of Addiction. That's a right fine idea, babe!"

Turning back to the approaching guards, Ali takes a slow, deep breath. His mind was swirling with adrenaline, rage, excitement, and just general glee. In the middle of it all lay dormant a power he had been born with: the power to fuckin' rock and roll. He digs deep into his power and feels it coursing through his body, sending shivers down his spine and gooseflesh over his arms. He moves to a beat he can feel thrumming in his head, and he throws his hands up, forefinger and pinky extended. Energy crackles along his arms and arcs between the tips of the fingers, and when he opens his eyes they are brimming with power. He stomps his foot forward, discordant music filling the air as he throws his hands forward, crackling black bolts loosing forth from his hands and ripping through the air towards the guards.

If that didn't get their attention, fuckin' nothing would.


For those about to rock, we salute you. :salute:

I'm not quite where I can go up to eleven, but I'm pushing doombolt at NINE PR. 50 + 45 = 95.

Doombolt does 1d10+9 E damage, pen 8, and shoots one extra bolt every 2 DoS.

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013
Ellie "Prophet" Guttenburg

Ellie's concentration on the myriad future possibilities is shattered for a moment as the man speaks, "Holy shite! Rules of Addiction? We used to listen to your stuff in the trenches all the time; killed numerous heretics to your Blowin' Your Mind (While Blowin's Something Else) album. They said you was dead on the Behind The Music special!"

Mad Moxxi
Apr 29, 2010

It's tough being cute.
Justine

"Sup, Ellie. Name's Justine."

She does some fancy fire workings or something.

fire bolt! i'm too tired to do anything good right now...

chin up everything sucks
Jan 29, 2012

Var'Son'Tish

The weapon felt strange in his hand, humming with power. It was unnatural, it was... weak. A weapon designed to subdue without the use of strength, relying on a mechanism rather than a well struck blow. With a contemptuous grunt, Var'Son'Tish flipped the small switch on the side of the shockmaul as he ran towards the next nearest guard, his mind filtering out the distractions of the confused and panicked psykers around him. They didn't matter, he could kill them later if he needed to.

The psychic blast, however, drew a small part of his attention. So at least one other person here had the will to fight against the guards. And dead guard lay at his feet already. Maybe he was the assistance that had been promised?

Charging with WS 53, using the shock maul as a club, and attacking the closest group of guards. Aiming to kill them all as fast as I can before moving on to the next group. If one of them has a vox or microbead visible, I'll drop them first.

chin up everything sucks fucked around with this message at 06:25 on Feb 13, 2015

MaliciousOnion
Sep 23, 2009

Ignorance, the root of all evil
Ellie is distracted by the presence of the rockstar and she loses track of the skeins of fate. All too suddenly, the creatures beyond begin pressing against the weaking fabric of reality. The psykers feel the corrupting influence of the Warp, and Ellie finds the myriad futures too confusing to follow. They suddenly coalesce into the worst possible fate for her - the guard has seen her coming and stepped around her, putting her in a headlock.

Blood begins to well up from the grating beneath Alasdair's feet as he pushes out his hands, the raw energy bursting from his fingers and arcing across the room toward the guards. Three of them are ripped apart violently, blood gushing from their torn bodies. Justine follows suit, flinging an orb of fiery light at another guard. The ball splashes across his chest, setting him on fire and causing him to fall to the ground in a desperate attempt to douse the flames, though he eventually succumbs to the fire.

Charging into the fray, Var'Son'Tish swings the unpowered maul at a guard, scoring a glancing blow on the man's shoulder. The guard responds with his own attack, his maul crackling with electric energy as it swings harmlessly through the space where Var had been only moments before. The Khornate warrior steps in close, delivering a solid blow to the guard's stomach and doubling him over. Taking advantage of the situation, Var follows up with a double overhand smash across the back of his neck and the guard crumples lifelessly to the floor.

Celeste directs the young boy by her side to retrieve an ident card and he scurries forward, unmolested by the guards. Retrieving the rectangle of plastic from amongst the gory mess left by Alasdair's onslaught, he hurries back to Celeste, who begins making her way to the door where Ellie and Justine are struggling with the door. The escapees and remaining guards all converge in front of the hatch in a chaotic melee. Now with numbers on their side, the prisoners make short work of the last few guards; the mutant proves himself especially adept, his two left arms giving him a unique advantage in his unorthodox style of attack.



Ellie crit failed her grapple test and initially rolled really badly on the Phenomena table, causing 4/5 PCs to suffer from fear. After consulting with players (Werix is busy moving house), the phenomena was re-rolled, leaving us with Shadow of the Warp. Ellie gains 1 CP, Alasdair gains 3 CP and Celeste gains 4 CP. Not enough for anyone to gain a mutation. Al gets very lucky, rolling low on both focus power and phenomenon tests, and taking out three guards. Justine sets another on fire. Var takes out another guard. The rest of the fight is a wash. Ten more ident cards and shock mauls are available.

MaliciousOnion
Sep 23, 2009

Ignorance, the root of all evil
With the fight over and nothing left to do within the prison hold, the escaped psykers approach the door. The hatch opens readily when one of the ident cards are presented to the terminal. Beyond the portal is a short, dimly-lit corridor, its walls completely covered in conduits and pipes of various sizes and unknowable purpose. As instructed, exactly halfway along the tunnel is a hatch in the ceiling. It isn't locked, and the pipes on either side offer sufficient handholds to ascend. The group find themselves in the unseen bowels of the ship, amidst machinery that performs various functions, from the most mundane to the absolutely vital. Everywhere one looks, scraps of parchment adorn various surfaces, each bearing a seal of the Mechanicus and covered in minute scrawlings and diagrams - prayers and supplications to the machine spirits. While their purpose might be obvious, the actual contents of any paper is quite obscure.

Ignoring these purity seals, the group continue on through the levels between levels, knowing exactly when to turn left or right or up or down amongst the confusing labyrinth of machinery. Their destination seemed crystalline in its clarity, yet murky at the same time. It was as though they had walked this path a thousand times before, but only in dreams. Finally, the group reach what they know to be their destination: a row of metal drums, each connected to a forest of groaning pipes that twist overhead. One drum on the end is unconnected, though, and bears an oddly familiar symbol, Y. Upon inspection, the drum is found to have cleverly concealed hinges that allow it to open, revealing a cache of weapons and gear within. Everything the team had requested has been provided, plus some additional items. The mutant, who has kept a pair of shock mauls, declines taking anything, as do the twins. The boy picks up a simple holdout laspistol, handling it with surprising familiarity.

Now kitted out properly, the team begin to discuss their plan. Their ultimate goal was to reach the bridge but there were numerous ways to go about it.



Time to think of some ideas. As long as it's reasonable, it's possible. Want to dress up as waiters to the bridge staff? Go ahead. Hijack an elevator and sneak your way in? Sure thing. Go in all guns (and brains) blazing? It's your funeral, bud.

Regarding the followers Celeste had attracted, they'll be something akin to OW comrades (mostly useless). From time to time I'll give you a bonus if it seems relevant, and you can choose to "sacrifice" one or more to have them do something extra special, like holding off some guards at a choke point to give you time to escape. Alternatively, anyone can purchase one of them as a minion when you get xp. This means they'll be able to do more.

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013
Ellie "Prophet" Guttenburg

As the warp envelops her and the surprise of the choke hold grips her, the voice of "Prophet" begins to whisper to her, "You were weak Elllieee. SSShhh now, let the darknessss of unconsciousnesssss take you; so I may whisperrrr more sibilant nothingssss into that head of yoursss." Her vision begins to narrow blacken before her comrades rush to her aid and subdue the guards. She shakes her head clear and nods thanks, before following the rest of the group to her weapons.

She checks the hidden container for all her gear. Her remaining Guard kit was all there; the las pistol, chainsword, and her omni-present long-las "Ender of Fates". Even her later acquisitions were there, mainly the rarely used bolt gun, and the oft too used "spray gun" eliciting one or two odd glances as she forces the ammo belt up the grip into the now empty magazine well, and into the open bolt before releasing the slide.

Finally wrapping herself in her camoline cloak, she turns to the rest. "I think a direct assault on the bridge would be suicide. I assume that the prisoner containment must be failing elsewhere in the ship? If so they would likely seal the bridge up. Could we not capture engineering or a fire control station and vent the bridge from there? Then after re-pressurize it and walk on in?" She shrugs, "I admit, I'm not too knowledgeable when it comes to ships."

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Ali

As they walk amongst the machinery, Ali holds his hands out and boredly rakes the seals off where they belong, letting them flutter to the ground; it was a small gesture towards the mechanicus on the ship, and he hoped on some level that they appreciated it.

Arriving at the drum, the rocker can't help but grin as he picks up his duffle bag, opening it to see several phials of different drugs, an injector, and even a vaporizer. "Alriiiight, my party equipment!" He sets the bag down and quickly changes into his proper attire and pulls his armor on over it, hooking a chainsword and a pistol to his belt, before meticulously inserting the drug phials into different slots on his bandolier, which was originally intended to hold shotgun shells. He looks up as Ellie speaks, and chuckles. "Really, I'm along for the ride. I've got me boosters now, I could probably punch out a space marine once I've got one of these beauts in my system." He delicately brushes his fingers over one of the drug canisters, containing a sparkling purple fluid. "So rightly, point the way and I'll follow. Figure there's fun to be had wherever we go."

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MaliciousOnion
Sep 23, 2009

Ignorance, the root of all evil
The purity seals that Ali brushes off the machinery turn out to be the only things keeping the ship working; without them, the critical life support systems all fail. Over the next few hours, everyone slowly dies as the oxygen runs out.

THE END

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