LibriumArcana.Games

No bugger goes to Harper's World anymore, so they say. It isn't true, it's true that no one important ever goes there anymore. Long cut off from His holy embrace, all the attempts to resettle and bring it back to it's former glory have failed. Harper's World is now a lonely, half feral/half feudal world on the edge of the sector. Watched over by a lone, obsolete station and a battered and largely neglected Ironclad, it is by any definition the arse end of space.

You though, you have been summoned by your patron to the world. Or rather the station to be instructed on your task, no Inquisitor would bother to visit such a world, that is for his acolytes and his agents already on planet.

You are to be met at the edges of the system by the Ironclad Dominor and dropped onto the planet by lander, where you will met your contact.

Kadis stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. The assassin dried herself off and then walked naked across the room. The guest quarters on an Imperial cruiser were far more lavish than the spartan living conditions that she was used to but not as luxurious as the palaces she had visited on some of her missions.

Living comfortably could make you soft, if you lacked the discipline to keep up your training and conditioning. Those who did never advanced to Kadis's level. Still, it was almost decadent to have a warm shower instead of a cold one after a work out. It did not weaken her to do so though, so she decided it was permissible, falling under the Doctrine of Samuel. Her workout was, on reflection, not as demanding as it could be. She would add more cardiovascular exercises to make up for the deficiency.

She put on fresh underwear and donned her bodyglove. The tight fitting garment was worn by broad classes of people on many worlds and thus combined the virtues of functionality and inconspicuousness. The lightweight trench coat with its layers of flakcloth armour was similarly common and swords were worn openly in many places. The small laspistol was easily concealed beneath her coat, but the compact frame autogun was not and its presence would attract the wrong kind of attention. As she had no reason to believe that she would need it, it stayed behind.

Kadis exited her quarters and went walking as she had done every day since she had boarded the ship, although never at the same time. A good assassin learned the ground whenever possible and she had plenty of time on her hands. When her mission was revealed to her, she would be ready.

A drip of cold water from the showerhead above him upon his face caused Serghar to jerk awake, waving his hand about in panic for a moment before he realized that it didn't contain the weapon he thought it did. Sometime after his eyes had flickered shut in exhaustion the Armsman-10 had slipped from his fingers and had lain beside him since. Snatching up the precious weapon he scanned the tiny washroom for threats, paying close attention to the shadows and any reflective surfaces. That was where things liked to hide.

Finally satisfied that the daemons had yet to find him, Serghar uncurled from the tight ball he had curled into for most of the duration of their travel through the Immaterium. He had considered staying like that until he was dragged off on whatever mission he had been roped into, but he was now quite ravenous since he suspected it had been several days since he had last skulked out of his room to get something to eat. He had best take the chance to get to the mess hall.

Stretching out and finding a dozen little hurts, along with one two big ones in his back from where he had slept on his backup pistol and knife, Serghar went about the process of getting himself ready. First he crept low over to the door of the lavatory and picked up his staff, laid out lengthwise in front of the door in the hopes that the blessings on the weapon might help ward him. He then clumsily opened the door with the staff in one hand while he kept a grip on his pistol with the other.

Peering out in the room he had been assigned, Serghar used his staff to check that the decking was still real before he moved out into the room, scanning with his pistol the whole way in. Edging along the walls, he moved to where the little statuette he used to help him focus his mind lay. While useful, he never slept in the same room as the horrid blank faced thing. Instead he kept it on top of his sword with the blade pointed towards the door, hoping that the tiny script that contained a blessing for the weapon would make sure nothing got into the statue. Picking both up he put the statue into one of the many pockets that lined his robes and then sheathed the sword and buckled it and its scabbard to his belt.

Setting aside his staff, he then began moving the blockade of junk he had formed about the door to his room out of the way, one hand always on his pistol. Once it was clear, he picked up the staff and then reluctantly put away the pistol. Ship security had become annoyed with him the last time he had that out in the open and the bruises were only just starting to turn yellow and go away. Grasping his staff again, he prodded open the door and then checked the decking outside the room before he tentatively went outside and immediately pressed his back up against the nearest wall, whipping his head back and forth frantically for a few seconds as he checked, double-checked and triple-checked the cooridor for ghosts, daemons, and any of the other things out to get him.

Creeping down the cooridors of the ship, always with his back against something solid, or at least hopefully solid enough because you never could tell with the monsters, and always checking his footing beforehand with his staff, Serghar made his way towards the mess... or whatever it was called on a ship. He really didn't care, it was where there was food and he was hungry enough to eat a grox.

He stopped short when he noticed a woman in a bodysuit also scanning the cooridors. He was fairly certain she had already seen him, but he made sure when he asked, "Are they out to get you too?"

The cards were laid, and the pattern revealed itself. A Child Lost. The Emperor's Glory. The Planet. Other cards focused the reading, yet full detail was cloudy, as always. One last card fell out of her hand, and she looked at it with curious wide eyes, then folded and shuffled all the cards back into the deck. Wrapping the deck with a scrap of silk to the murmurs of the appropriate prayer, she stowed the deck reverently in its pouch before rising out of her lotus position.

Belongings were gathered, the light armor donned and the sacred knife placed in its holder. May it never be needed. A last look around the sparse quarters, before the reflection in the mirror caught her eye. Dreamy eyes, not quite focused on the here and now. The mark of the Sanctioned upon her brow, a sign and warning to others of her power ... of her danger.

Without further look at herself, she walked out the door, into the hallways. She turned without thought, the reading of the Cards guiding her along the way. There were two she must meet with, before anything else. She must find the 10 and the Jack of Spades.

Kadis considered how to respond. Being alert and wary was essential, being paranoid was another. Accurate assessments of one's environment and comrades was essential for successfully completing missions.

"No," she replied curtly, "they are not after me."

Serghar considered this statement carefully, weighing all the possible connotations before he smiled and said, "Oh! They're on vacation today then? They rarely ever do that, but it happened to me once. That was a good day, even if I didn't really believe it at first."

He then asked, "Since no one is after you right now, could you help me out a bit? There's a four way intersection between here and the mess, and that means they have four ways to sneak up on me and I can only check one at a time. Could you help me take a look out? If you see anything that makes you want to claw your eyes out, could you give me a shout?"

By now if Kadis hadn't already guessed, Serghar's rapid head movements to check behind him had also revealed the sanctioning brand on his forehead beneath his mop of unruly blond hair.

Kadis considered beating the man into a pulp, but discarded the action as counter productive. His delusions wouldn't improve and the master included him for some reason. "No," she said and turned away, ironically heading towards the very same four way intersection that he had mentioned.

A four-way intersection. Yes, this was right. Intersections were borders, were places of meetings. This was where she would meet the Jack and 10. Then, they would meet the rest of the flush together.

Thus, Kyona walked out into the intersection, then took a step back, putting her back to the corner where two of the corridors met. Her straight black hair was pulled back from her face, clearly showing the brand on her forehead, for now was not the time to hide it. Dreamy hazel eyes looked down the corridor to the woman and the cowering man behind her. "The path is clear, the door awaits. Will the sharp-willed woman and the unfortunate man come?"

Serghar frowned and shaking his fist declared, "Well when your enemies finish their vacation and come after you we'll see who isn't owed a favour!"

Flattening himself up against the wall once more, Serghar inched towards the intersection until he noticed a black haired woman standing there, the brand on her forehead clearly visible. Serghar goggled for a moment before cringing, touching his fingers to the scars on his skull beneath his hair where the drills had gone in. He cringed and cried out, "I can't tell you why you can't see!"

"I did not ask," Kyona replied serenely. "Nor will I, for what you have seen is yours alone. Yet you asked, and I tell you -- the path is clear."

Serghar's eyes darted around for a bit before he practically hurled himself across the corridor. Recovering, he said to the other pysker suspiciously, "You were right that time, but don't think I'm going to turn my back to let you drill more holes in my skull when! They said that wouldn't be necessary anymore."

Raltus Tauron could not have been more thrilled. He’d never had free run of a warship before, not even an old tub like the Dominor. There was so much for a disciple of the Omnissiah to see and learn. He’d spent much of the voyage in-system sequestered in the enginarium, conversing with the more senior tech adepts there. There was still a job to do, though.

Raltus didn’t know why he was being assigned to Harper’s World, what he was to do there, or who he was to be working with. He couldn’t do anything about the first two until the Dominor reached its destination, but he could do something about the last. Raltus moved forward through the ship, making sure he had his las pistol and knife easily accessible. He probably wouldn’t need them, but the instincts he developed in the low hives of Malfi hadn’t faded. He’d heard stories too, of the things that lurked in the bowels of ships that plied the void.

Raltus was pondering just what those things might be when he saw a harried looking man dart across the hallway well ahead of him. He caught a brief exchange of words that had no meaning to him. The man’s tone indicated possible trouble so Raltus hurried forward, one hand gripping the pistol in his robes.

Upon reaching the intersection Raltus regarded the man, clearly in a state of distress, and a woman, not at all distressed. There didn’t seem to be any imminent trouble, so Raltus eased his hand free.

“Greetings,â€

"They were right, it is not needed," Kyona stated calmly, before turning to look at the MechPriest in confusion. "You ... weren't supposed to be here yet..." she said to herself in a child-like voice, her hazel eyes blinking owlishly.

"The Knave of Spades ... Cerebral seduction," her voice was sing-song as she spoke. "A young man of large ideas but not else ...."

Raltus was caught off guard. “I am exactly where my master directed me to be, at the time he appointed. Otherwise I would not be on this ship.â€

"My master sent me here, as the Emperor willed," Kyona answered, the fit over as she looked the TechPriest over. "The planet is lost, and must be shown the way home."

Severus Lucien sighed and put his dataslate away. Their journey to the planet was coming to an end, and he had yet to divine their purpose here. He had carefully read and re-read every piece of information he could scrounge up from the ship's records, and yet, he was no closer to his goal than when he started. Harper's World was a useless Emperor-forsaken shithole, full of primitives barely fit to live. What could interest the Inquisition in such a place?

The Inquisition. The name still sent a tingle of cold up his spine every time he thought of it. The mysterious, omnipresent, all-powerful Inquisition, what did it want with one such as he? He had thought of that day and night on the journey from Luggnum, then on the Imperial ship that brought them here. Whatever it was, he had been given a chance of a lifetime, bigger than anything he had ever dreamed of. He would not fail, no matter what.

Severus put out the lho-stick he was smoking and got up from the tall armchair. The quarters he was given on the ship were bigger and far more luxurious than the tiny room in the Fortress-Precinct on Luggum that he had called "home" for the past three years. If that's what working for the Inquisition meant, then he liked it quite a bit. Still, he had sat here long enough, looking for answers where there were none. He had yet to meet his companions, he realized.

He stepped over to his clothes chest and began to get dressed. Normally, he would be wearing his black Arbites uniform, but that was a sure way to let people know they were looking for something. Even though they were still safely on the ship, it would never do to spook people too early. Once his mission was known, he could decide accordingly. A set of coveralls would do nicely, he decided. A light mesh vest went over the coveralls. He spent a few moments settling his shotgun on a sling over his shoulder where he could use it instantly. A knife went into his right boot. A old grey trenchcoat came on top of it all, concealing the weapon. After a second's thought he decided to drop a pair of knuckle dusters in the deep trenchcoat pocket

He looked into the mirror and scowled. The figure that stared back at him looked nothing like an Arbites, an instrument of the Emperor's Will whose duty is to enforce the Emperor's law, pass the Emperor's judgement, enforce the Emperor's peace, and punish those who trespass. He looked, Severus decided, like a a farmboy, away from the latifundia for the first time in his life. An ungainly farmboy, with his curly brown hair, cheeks with the slightest hint of fuzz and jug ears (pierced, too. Was that a mistake!); looking completely incongruous and silly in a long coat.

He groped for the grip of his shotgun under the coat, and trained it on his reflection in a flash. At least he didn't move like a farmboy, he smiled. Settling the gun back in its place, he picked up his pack of lho-sticks from the table, lit one, and feeling the familiar rush of lho-smoke, stepped out into the hallway beyond.

------------------------------------------
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin

Severus heard the commotion as soon as he stepped outside. Three voices, speaking loudly. None of them were shouts, and none signalled danger, however.

He shrugged and headed towards the sound. A few minutes passed as he made his way leisurely towards the four-way intersection.

He took a glance at the four people gathered there. A tech-priest in the robes of his order was chatting with a woman as another man cowered behind them all. A second woman, in a trenchcoat much like his own looked on at the scene dispassionately.

He gave the people there another look and...

"Emperor protect us!" he hissed, flattening himself against the wall and making the sign of the aquila, the lho-stick almost falling from his mouth. "Witches!"

--------------------------------------------
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin

Kyona looked over at the exclaimation, and then gave the first real smile anyone had seen on her face. "The King of Diamonds, the one for whom their work is all. Emperor bless you."

The branded woman spoke, and Severus fought back the urge to shoot her down.

"Silence, witch! The Emperor in his eternal wisdom has permitted your existence, so you must serve a purpose in his plan. The Lex Imperialis forbids me to execute you without cause, but none but He on Terra can make me listen to your ramblings! Do not speak to me again until our mission requires it!"

These four were his companions, of that he had no doubt. Emperor save him, what sort of mission was this?

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Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin

As the Arbitrator finishes chastising the witches in his group a loud gong sounds over the Ironclads inter-ship vox and a synthesized voice shorty follows.

"Stand by for deceleration and docking manoeuvres, passengers report to cargo airlock four with personal kit for disembarkation."

Immediately afterwards the cruiser lurches and the vibration of the ships engines increases. Various members of the crew start making their way by you, hurrying to duty stations.

Yes, he is the King of Diamonds, as the cards said Kyona thought to herself as she bowed quietly to the as-yet unnamed man. As she straightened, her hazel eyes were slightly unfocused, looking past and through him. One dedicated to his work, one seemingly as hard as the suit that claimed him. The cards warned he would be difficult to work with. Yet, until he had unbent (or broken into carbon), she would follow his order and not speak to him.

The announcement over the vox gave her the excuse to end the awkwardness. Kyona turned away, to the Jack, the Ten, and the Knave of Spades as she thought of the woman and two men. "I must fetch my things. I will meet you all at the airlock," she said softly, bowing low enough to them that strands of her dark hair fell forward. She rose from her bow and walked serenely down the corridor towards her cabin, leaving the others to do as they must.

They would be at the airlock. That was all that mattered.

Kadis departed without a word, returning to her quarters. Her meager possessions were easy to pack. Her few clothes and her rifle and ammunition went into a duffel bag. She slung over her shoulder and headed towards the airlock.

This assignment was likely to be difficult. One psyker was clearly mentally dysfunctional and the other was brazen in the use of her curse. The enforcer was clearly easily upset by the mere presence of Sanctioned personnel. The combination was volatile. She would have to keep careful watch over them and terminate any disruptive elements before they compromised the mission. A precautionary execution might very well compromise the group's ability to function and she might have to liquidate them and continue the mission solo.

That would be unfortunate. The others were likely to be assets of considerable value and any loses would be suboptimal. Suboptimal, but preferable to failure.

She headed toward the airlock.

The announcement came as a surprise to Severus. He was wrong in his calculations and had waited too long before heading out.

He blew out a cloud of lho-smoke, spun about and headed back to his quarters. He didn't leave his past life with much, all of it fitting in a duffel bag. After some consideration, he decided to strap his arbitrator's baton to his belt- he wished dearly for a power maul.

He considered his situation. Any hope of secrecy was now gone, with two witches in the group. Even if they do not cause an riot on the station, word will surely spread, and the element of surprise will surely be lost. A pre-emptive strike was likely. He will need to be vigilant, and he will need allies.

Throwing one final glance at the room, he hefted the bag on his shoulder and stepped out into the corridor, heading for the airlock. With any luck, he'll make it there before the others do.

He made his way down to the airlock at a quick walk, almost a jog. The ship shuddered and rolled, making his stomach clench, and crewmen ran past by him, going about their duties. He bypassed the intersection where he met the others, and headed on..

Not the first, after all, he thought wryly as he saw the bronze-skinned woman walking down the corridor a dozen or so paces ahead of him. She was still wearing the bodyglove and trenchcoat, her posessions contained in a duffel bag much like his own.

He slowed his pace, admiring her figure and the way she moved- precise flowing, graceful movements, as if flowing from one point in space to the next.

He smiled, let out another lho-puff and shifted his bag to his left shoulder.

"You're being far too obvious, you know." he said. "The way you move. You have to be inconspicuous if you don't want to attract attention."

-------------------------------------------
Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin

"Your assumption is erroneous," she replied coolly. "I want you to know. I am pleased you are observant enough to notice."

Severus hastened his pace again, until he caught up with the woman.

"Me and Emperor knows how many others on this ship," he grumbled. "Until we know our mission and whom we can trust, we can trust no one. I am sure the crew already know of the two witches in their midst- a psyker is a dangerous thing to have on ship while traversing the Empyrean. While everyone's attention is focused on them, we must be inconspicuous as possible, slipping through the cracks and hiding our abilities until the time is right."

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Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin