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Subject: [IC] Terminatum Hereticus, mission 1: Jurisdiction rss

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Wouter Dhondt
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You are all on a ship called the "Gathering Course", a small sprint trader about to transit to the Granithor system. You're all new acolytes in the service of the Inquisition and are requested to meet Inquisitor Globus Vaarak, Ordo Hereticus. A serf shows you and the others the way to his office on board the ship. As you reach the room, you are motioned to wait outside. After a minute, a different group of acolytes step out the room and pass you in the hallway. They look like a ragtag bunch of misfits, but when looking at the men accompanying you, you realize the same could be said of your group. It is the first time you've seen the others you'll be working with. There is no time for introductions however as you're asked to step inside the Inquisitor's office.

The Inquisitor's office is impressively big on a ship of this size. You see several pillars with drapes, bearing the mark of the Inquisition. There is a large wooden table in the center of the room and the Inquisitor is standing next to it. Vaarak’s long years of service to the Inquisition have cost him dearly. His body is broken, scarred and bloated. Both of his legs and one arm have been replaced with mechanical constructs built into an encompassing life-support system. Tubes festoon his pockmarked face, running from his nose and mouth and head. The ribbed black bodyglove he wears scarcely contains his immense bulk. Despite his ancient injuries, or perhaps because of them, Vaarak has an imposing presence. His dark eyes stare intently at whoever he is speaking to, his voice deep and craggy.



Inquisitor Vaarak's conveyance lets out a sigh of fragrant steam as it settles next to the thick wooden table and his eyes light briefly on each of you, expressing a smile impossible to see in the ruin of his face. "I sincerely hope you've gotten the violence out of your systems for a bit, because this will require some tact." A small holograph springs to life from the center of the table, displaying a dark blue-grey moon orbiting a large duncoloured planet. "The Ministorum and Mechanicus have been at each other's throats over Granithor almost since the days of the Crusade, which would be beside the point if they weren't also currently at each other's throats over this man." The planets dissolve into a static cloud for a split second before being replaced by a gaunt bust. The hololith shows a man with deep-set eyes and a dark shadow on his lower face that belies a fast growing beard. A prominent, sharp chin and cheekbones stand out along with a hawkish nose; and a full shock of wavy black hair tops the image. "Meet Yorgos Marcin, small time broker for smuggled goods and sometimes confidence man. Marcin has been linked to a number of rebellious groups through weapons sales, typically lasguns and other relatively easily procured weapon." The bust continues to rotate slowly as Vaarak continues. "An Arbitrator cargo inspection team seems to have tripped him up as he brought a load of fairly advanced components onto Granithor's moon of Donaris. Now both the Ecclesiarchy Confessors and the AdMech Experiors can't wait to get their hands on him. You are hereby instructed to proceed to Arbitrator Precinct WS2387 on the moon of Donaris in the Granithor system and put to the question Yorgos Marcin. However, the Inquisition has no desire to upset the delicate balance between these two organizations, who have been feuding over the system for centuries. You are therefore to tread very lightly." Vaarak had been looking at each of you when speaking, but suddenly he pauses for a moment, his eyes turning to Castus, his voice sounding more serious and darker. "Let me be absolutely clear: you are to do precisely nothing that gives either the Adeptus Ministorum or Adeptus Mechanicus any more or less of a claim to Yorgos after your inquiry is complete." He turns back to the group. "Any questions?"

You may make an ordinary (+10) Common Lore (Calixis Sector, Ecclesiarchy, or Machine Cult) test
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Yohann
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Remaining silent in a shadowy corner of Inquisitor Leg-of-Metal's room, back to a pillar and still wearing on his face the marks of an earlier beating, Tilvakh is following the order of mission intently, remembering the face of their target.
He is at the same time trying to put aside that gnawing feeling of otherness and, he is not afraid to admit it, fear, at traveling through the raw matter of the Ruinous Powers, the warp, and by keeping on repeating in his head, like a mantra: "In the darkness, follow the light of Terra."
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Karl Larsson
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"Yes Inquisitor! What would the Inquisition how us ask Yorgos? What are we looking for? Also, do we have to find our own transport?"
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Novus stands sharply at attention, an act ground into him from his years of service in the Guard. His face remains expressionless, like it was carved from stone; despite the slight disappointment he feels after hearing no violence would be necessary. Novus was a man of action, of weaponry, of bringing death. Tact was not his forte. But, if that is what the Inquisition asked of him; by the Emperor's Light, he would see swallow his pride and see it done.

Novus keeps his eyes trained on the images as they flicker and rotate. He studied the man's face and eyes; comparing it to the other battle-hardened men and women he'd met. The eyes were usually a good measure of one's character and hardness. Upon hearing the name Castus, he flicked his eyes towards the man; committing the name to memory. He also wondered why Castus seemed to get singled out. Did Castus have a history of causing problems, or was he considered to be the leader of this expedition? Time would tell.
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Ed Sagritalo
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Ishmael stands to the side, arms crossed, right gloved hand stroking his stubbled chin. His eyes are closed as he listens to the inquisitor. At the mention of the target's name, his eyes snap open and he studies the vid of the man intently.

"Where are you hiding, Marcin," Ishmael thinks to himself? "Who pays for your crimes, while you still live?"

Staring intently at the inquisitor, "Inquisitor Vaarak, am I to understand that this man must be made to talk." Choosing his words with care, "but to maintain the balance, he must not be killed?"

Will the balance be upset with the direct death of Marcin? Ishmael will try to remember if he recalls anything about the relationship of the two organizations and what would be their interest in a weapons dealer.

EDIT: Can I only make the Common Lore skill check that you mentioned above if I have experience in one of the areas listed?
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Wouter Dhondt
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Castus wrote:
"Yes Inquisitor! What would the Inquisition how us ask Yorgos? What are we looking for? Also, do we have to find our own transport?"

Transport to the surface has already been arranged. After the meeting you are to report to the ship's shuttle bay. An aquila lander will take you to the complex. The local Arbites has been informed of your arrival. Vargas shifts behind the table, his medical servo-skulls following every move he makes. As for what the Inquisition wants of him? The Inquisition usually doesn't care about these kind of weapon smugglers. We are interested in this case however as Marcin has been caught smuggling servitor parts to Donaris. Knowing that Donaris is the biggest servitor production moon in the sector and they produce everything they need locally, this seems highly suspicious. We'd like to know why he was smuggling servitor parts to that moon in the first place.


Ishmael wrote:
Staring intently at the inquisitor, "Inquisitor Vaarak, am I to understand that this man must be made to talk." Choosing his words with care, "but to maintain the balance, he must not be killed?"


You hear a deep rumbling that seems to come from the walls themselves, and it's not until you see corresponding motion in Vaarak's massive form that you realize it must be laughter. His body glove rolls and strains in ways you feel sure must be moments away from rupture, but somehow the material holds. The quake subsides after only a few moments and his face assumes an expression that seems wholly unsuited to the human form. "That's the trick on this one, lads. Both sides are keen to get their hooks into him, and we can't be seen as helping or hindering one or the other, see?" The image of Yorgos contracts into a pinpoint of blue light that holds motionless for a half second before disappearing into the nalwood surface of the table. "This is sector-wide politics where even the Inquisition must tread lightly and, even were I to snatch him away with the Rosette, one side would see it as vindication of their motives at the expense of the other. In this case we need to wring our information out of him and leave the husk for those laggards to scrap over."

Ishmael wrote:
EDIT: Can I only make the Common Lore skill check that you mentioned above if I have experience in one of the areas listed?

Yes, it's an advanced skill so you can only try to make the test if you have the skill in the area listed. As I now see no one has any of it, you can make a Common Lore (Imperium) test instead, straight test without the +10 bonus.
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Karl Larsson
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Castus nod, "Your will be done, Inquisitor."

Common Lore: Imperium (24) 1d100 = (87) = 87
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  • 110704. karlkrlarsson
  • 1d100 =
  • (87) =
  • 87
  • Common Lore: Imperium (24)
  • Sun Feb 26, 2012 9:02 am
Ed Sagritalo
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Common Lore: Imperium (30) 1d100 = (42) = 42

Nodding understanding. "Do we have information on any of his lackeys? The size of his retinue or possibly his guards? Do we know of a contact we can start with? Perhaps any of the buyers?

Pacing. "Where do you den serpent," Ishmael thinks to himself? "It is no matter. We WILL find you." Smiling inwardly, "it is my life's work to find those who would betray humanity. So, I will do so."
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  • 1d100 =
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  • Sun Feb 26, 2012 12:10 pm
Yohann
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And how often do we have to report to you or your henchmen? Do we have a deadline to deliver our target?
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Common Lore - Imperium (25) d100 = (43) = 43

Novus stares at the screen a moment longer as he attempts to wrack his brain for any knowledge that might be of use. Something he may have learned during his early life, or time as guard.

Sadly, nothing seems to come to him. He's not surprised, as he's never been known for his astute acumen. However, he could field strip a lasgun in 30 seconds.
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  • 110747. Unknown Ediology
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  • Sun Feb 26, 2012 3:32 pm
Wouter Dhondt
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My armor is contempt. My shield is disgust. My sword is hatred. In the Emperor's name, let none survive.
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Song of my soul, my voice is dead; Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed. Shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa.
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Ishmael wrote:
Nodding understanding. "Do we have information on any of his lackeys? The size of his retinue or possibly his guards? Do we know of a contact we can start with? Perhaps any of the buyers?

We do not have any further information. Yorgos has been locked up since the incident and hasn't talked in the first interrogation by the Arbites. Now it is our turn.


Tilvakh wrote:
And how often do we have to report to you or your henchmen? Do we have a deadline to deliver our target?

You can report to me after the investigation. Do not trouble me with trifling issues. I expect you to do your job and after that report back to me.



Now, if that is all, the aquila lander is waiting for you. I expect you to handle this swift and without any problems between the Mechaninus and Ministorum.
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Ed Sagritalo
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Kwakkie wrote:

We do not have any further information. Yorgos has been locked up since the incident and hasn't talked in the first interrogation by the Arbites. Now it is our turn.


Ah. I didn't realize he was already being held. All my other banter than seems meaningless.
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Karl Larsson
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Castus bows, makes the sign of the aquila, and walks out, heading for the hangar bay.
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Novus snaps his hand up to give a crisp salute before turning sharply on his heel and marching out after Castus.
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On the cue, Tilvakh also makes the sign of the Aquila and says "The Blessed Father-of-All protects" and follows Castus.
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At the sign of dismissal, Ishmael looks once more at the team he has been assigned to. Shaking his head, he follows the others to the landing pad.

"Hardly seems worth it," he thinks to himself. "It has always been the hunt, that has made my work worthwhile." Smiling grimly, "what hidden tragedy lies in your heart vermin?" "We will draw it out of you."
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Chris
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Nicodemus awakes from his thoughts and looks to see everyone has left. The sanctioning has made him a bit odd. Understanding his job he heads for the hanger.

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Wouter Dhondt
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My armor is contempt. My shield is disgust. My sword is hatred. In the Emperor's name, let none survive.
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Song of my soul, my voice is dead; Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed. Shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa.
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As you walk out of the room, you see another servitor in the hallway, motioning to follow him. You walk behind him through several levels of the ship and finally reach the shuttle bay. There is indeed an Aquila lander ready for takeoff. You get in the small ship and find a seat.

Not long after everyone is seated, the lander's engines start screaming and you feel the ship moving. Transport to the moon Donaris will take some time. As you look around, you see your fellow passengers: the four other acolytes.
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Novus glances around at each of his other comrades; attempting to size them up. Granted, he knew looks could be decieving, but one could tell a lot about others from the way they dressed; the way they held themselves. Some had obvious signs of being from Imperial worlds, while others didn't.

Trying his best to put on a charming smile, Novus attempts to break the ice. Afterall, the best squards of the Guard were those that knew and liked - or at least respected - each other. And in order to get to that point, you have to talk.

"Since we'll be spending some time together, we should get to know each other. The name's Novus. I come from the 151st Infantry Brigade of the Imperial Guard. It is an honor serve the Emperor in this capacity."

His speech comes out in short, staccatoed bursts of information. The rythm and modulation make it quite evident that Novus was indeed an enlisted man.
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"Tilvakh. Assassin in the name of the God-Emperor" says in a rauccous voice an unseemingly young man from whom a faint musky smell is emanating, and on whose lap there is a hunting rifle.
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"I am Nicodemus. but please call me Nic. I am a sanctioned psyker," I rub the back of my hands as I speak these words, "It is my pleasure to meet you all."
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Castus looks around, "Greetings! I am castus, confessor. I work the best with those that understand that I might be a confessor, but to my friends, I hope to be a confidant. Standing tall against the darkness is easier if we all are strong in the faith."
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Deep in thought, Ishmael raises an eyebrow and gives a terse smile when he realizes what the current conversation is about. "Ah, it begins. The social rituals used to make friends and identify enemies. But who can you trust when everyone lies," Ishmael thinks to himself dourly?

As Ishmael stares intently at each of the others in turn, you notice that his lips strangely highlight his green eyes. His clothes betray the fact that he is well traveled, yet his coiffure and evenly stubbled face betrays a made up look that doesn't quite fit. He wears a well-worn flak vest with signs of damage only tested struggles can account for. A shotgun hangs on a hook by its sling nearby. While a sheathed sword lays next to his leg. His left hand unconsciously gripping and releasing the hilt

Smiling with what ends up looking more like a grimace, "I am Ishmael Noirgrim, arbitrator in service to our Emporer. It is my pleasure to work with others who are of similar intent"

Leaning forward and speaking more seriously, "it was my fellow brethrens who captured Marcin, and I can only assume they have done their job correctly. They should have been able to break this man. Unless, they realized correctly that the ones responsible for doing so, may find themselves in the fire instead." Eyeing the others, he let's the meaning settle in. "This mission may be more difficult than even the Inquisitor has hinted at." Settling back and closing his eyes, "we will definitely have to watch for each other if we are to come out of this."
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"Ah, an arbitrator", Castus smiles, "there are many of your brethren in the ranks of the confessors. I am well known with your organization. Also, I agree with your assesment. The Inquisitor was holding back. There is more to this than meets the eye. Why else would he get involved.
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"Agreed" says Tilvakh "I'll watch your back and you'll watch mine. That's the way it works." And leaning forward, showing his juvenile red-haired face, he adresses the other party of acolytes: "And what do you make of all this? Are you here to watch over us? Or are you here for another business?"

OOC: Are these guys the Acolytes he took a beating from?
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