Deathwatch: Murderers in Black (IC Thread)

[Lord_Ikka]

Moridyn

 

Moridyn scowled under his bandages and collar. Greenskins. Ugly, undisciplined, and violent. Still, he must play his part. 

 

"This way." 

 

His buzzing voice and waving arm beckoned the ork onto the shuttle. He followed behind as the beast wandered through the small ship, looking into the few compartments and storage areas for any other passengers. Nothing was found, not even when the ork lifted up the seat cushions.

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

Five against two, now four against one. It would have been a good ruse but he doubted such creatures would be able to conceal their eagerness for such.

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi:

 

Zidemi lamented his declination to join Ulfurbur’s bodyguard, but he had long ago learnt that he was not the inconspicuous type. He also sensed the great unease of his power armour’s spirit in expectation of a change so soon after the last. He could better serve the Kill Team by joining the strike team.

+++

 

After observing Azadth’s graceful leap from the shuttle, Zidemi followed his lead…
 

Spoiler

Agility Test: 46 + 10 = 56 required

D100: 18 = Pass, 3DoS

Despite his added bulk, Zidemi managed the landing well, piercing the water’s surface with minimal disturbance. He allowed himself to sink to the ocean floor; depth, pressure and O2 monitors started up on his HUD, now that his armour was acutely aware he was fully submerged.
 

Opting for a more nimble pose, he readied his bolt pistol and combat knife and advanced along the ocean floor. With each step he could feel his feet sinking, the shear-thickening clay pulling on his boots as he lifted each one. Given the added weight of his servo-arm, he would have to maintain a solid pace to avoid getting stuck and keep pace with the others.

[Trokair]

Godfrey Na Sylt-Lingon

 

 

Lord Godfrey nodded in acknowledgement to the Facilitator, not an equal, but one who at least deserved a modicum of respect compared the other folk in the employ of the Master of the Market.

 

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Master Bouchard.”

 

He steps aside, not in a hurry but perhaps a tad too swift to be truly unhurried, to let the Ork inspector past and into the hold.

 

 

“Indeed?! This port must more benighted then I had heard; if that is such a common occurrence. I have seen many ports on my voyages for the Dynasty, and so few are truly civilised, one has come to expect a certain level of uncouthness. I hope you spoke more in jest Master Bouchard then necessity.”

 

 

Godfrey took a few more paces down the ramp, no actually stepping onto the ground of the Bazaar, a final actual arrival.

 

“I seek little, but his Greatness Balthazar de Lingon the twenty third has envisaged expanding our trading routes and portfolio to encompass the Bazaar, perhaps even have a permanent representation here. Show us the sights of worth and interest Master Bouchard, for the Dynasty will need to know the lay of the proverbial land. Along the way perhaps you could show me some choice locations one might acquire for the establishing of a Branch Trading House.”

 

 

OOC: I assume it is a given that Godfrey will only converse in High Gothic unless specified.

[Lysimachus]

Scene 21. Making Headway

 

Infiltration team: Bouchard shrugs.

 

“Perhaps not a necessity. Even when it happens, it never becomes enough of an issue to affect the markets. There are several hundred Biters, so a single shuttle, even a large one, will not carry enough invaders to cause a problem. I do not believe a raiding party has ever made it off the landing field and into the city itself. Still…” he smiles, “...Lord Jennings believes prevention is better than a cure, so the inspections are carried out.”

 

The Ork sent aboard re-emerges with Moridyn just behind him, and gives a shrug and a wave towards his boss. Murtrugg waves back and turns and nods towards Bouchard and ‘Godfrey’, then glowers momentarily at your three guardians.

 

“Fa-silly-tayta Boo-shar, tell 'im dey can go inta da Bazaar. Don’ make truble. If anywun starts sumfink wiv ya, youz allowd ta defend yerselfs, but don’ eks… eska… don’ start a damn war. Call in da Biters.”

 

“Understood, Sergeant. Thank you.”

 

Bouchard offers a short bow in return, then turns back to Alda and starts to lead the way towards the bridge into the city, while the squad of Orks returns to patrolling the landing field.

 

“If you and your retainers will follow me, my Lord Godfrey? I must say, your master's vision is very exciting. Focusing on a long term business plan rather than short term profit shows great wisdom. Perhaps I could invite you to stay in one of our guest palaces here in the city, and you can rest from your journey? Then I can arrange meetings for you with some of our key trading partners?”

 

The Facilitator leads you across a low stone bridge over the westernmost riverlet of the delta and into the Bazaar. The city is hot and humid, and its streets wind back and forth, crossing over more bridges over wide or narrow rivers. There are many junctions where streets criss-cross and at most of these crossroads or squares merchants have stalls displaying countless esoteric wares. Hundreds, even thousands, of temporary residents move around the city, haggling and trading. Aliens of countless species, from squat Demiurg to sinuous, multi-armed Sslyth, move freely around the markets. Among them are also mortal men, traitors to Humanity. Though there is tension in the air, and raised voices can often be heard in arguments over price and quality, the streets stay surprisingly peaceful, though this may be due to the occasional patrols of black armoured Orkoid Arbites that pass along the streets.

 

Bouchard moves easily through the hubbub, and leads you eventually to a small island where a large building of whitewashed stone is situated. It has a grand colonnade of pillars at the front and a set of dark, heavy wooden double doors stand open. Looking through them you can see a glimpse of what appears to be an internal courtyard, complete with palm trees, an ornamental pond and a bubbling fountain.

 

“This is one of our finest guest palaces. You are most fortunate that we are in our quieter season, so it is currently unoccupied. Of course, there are several even more private estates out in the jungle or along the coast that your master might prefer… if they are within his budget…? but for now this might be a suitable initial spot for a new Trading House?”

 

He stands at the threshold and bows.

 

“If the accommodation pleases, I will leave you to settle in, and go and begin making arrangements for you to meet with representatives of some of the Grand Merchants? I will return in… shall we say four hours?”

 

Feel free to respond to Bouchard as you wish. The rest period should allow time for the strike team to approach, and keep us all at around the same point in time. Feel free to add details of things you saw or heard as you travelled to the palace, or if anyone wishes to explore the palace or its surroundings they can?

 

 

 

Strike team: It will take approximately three and a half hours to cover the 30 kloms to the Bazaar. The depth will gradually decrease from 300m to approx 30m, then at around 5 kloms out from the beach there will be a 20m vertical rock climb up to the insular shelf. That will bring you up to a depth of 10m, which will then gradually rise over the last 5 kloms through shallow tropical coral reefs and sands up to meet sea level.

 

Feel free to narrate this journey as you wish. You don't need to roll anything for the trek or the climb as it's underwater. However, everyone can roll a d10. If anyone rolls a 1, the squad have disturbed a native creature of the moon's seas as you travel. One of you can then roll a d6 to determine what kind of danger you face:

1: Shark(s?)
2: Giant Squid
3: Electric Eels Swarm
4: Toxic Jellyfish Smack
5: Giant Crab (the big brother of the one Azadth already encountered?)
6: School of Piranhas

 

(I won't require any rolls against these creatures, as they shouldn't be a serious threat to Astartes, it's more of a narrative challenge as to how you deal with them that you can add to your posts?)

 

 

 

Edited November 16 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

D10: 9

 

The beautiful opal sea remained free of hazards.

For the moment.

 

[Urauloth]

(Placeholder and AG test)

 

AG: 48 +10
D100 roll: 63 = fail, 1 wound

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi:

Zidemi kept pace with his more nimble battle-brothers, disturbing much silt with his heavy strides…

 

Spoiler

D10: 8

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

D10: 8

 

The strike force trudged onward through the increasingly murky and brackish effluent pouring from the river delta upon which the Bazaar was built. The sea life largely ignored them on their silent march towards the shallows, though the odd scavenger fish came periodically to investigate these strange, black-and-quicksilver interlopers to their watery demesne. The knight-penitent ignored them in turn, silently reciting catechisms of detestation to himself as he followed the others in their loose formation: obsidian statues animated by some fell purpose beyond the ken of the piscean mind and driven onward towards ends both terrible and unknowable.

[Lysimachus]

Amaras' d10 roll: 2

 

 

Spoiler

Close one, there... just Vafri to go, maybe you'll make it through to the beach without attracting any predators?

 

 

[Urauloth]

Váfri

 

D10 roll: 3

 

Váfri hadn't been in ocean water since he was a Blood Claw, and never on a world other than his own. It was ironic, in a way, for a warrior born to a seafaring people. He had spent more time in the open void than submerged below the waves. Sometimes one's Wyrd played jests like that. Perhaps it was why he hit the water harder than he should have - a very slight error, his angle off by millimetres, but the speed of the drop meant the forces involved were enough to turn a mortal man's guts to liquid. With his physique and armour it annoyed him more than it hurt.

 

Careless. Fool.

 

It augured poorly. A bad start to a hunt he already didn't like. Checking his gear was all still in place as he descended, he strode out after the others, taking up a position on the flank of the small formation to avoid the clouds of silt they stirred up as they moved.

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

The entombing fluid was green enough to remind him of the jungle - and like the jungle or deserts, it required a certain pace. Water, that staff of life, Aydam's Ale, without which no life could teem, was a law of it's own. Speed was not permitted for creatures foreign to it. Fighting through it was a fatiguing folly. No, effortless motion required a steady pace, any harder and the water became inflexible, any slower and the risk of getting bogged down, grew.

 

The eerie silence of the armoured complement loomed through the twilight murk, silence haunted by the muted thunder of animated harness as the current of fate pulled them inexorably onwards. Casting a glance over his shoulder, Azadth wondered what mortal eyes would make of them, Váfri with his pelts sodden and matted, smocking and plastered to his plate one minute, then pulled by the current the next; or Zidemi, a great crustacean, lumbering onward with splayed pincers and feelers broached wide in the posture of territorial threat.

 

Were there not salamanders which were amphibians?

 

He smiled, the universe was prodding him again, so he listened.

 

+Brother Zidemi, should we deploy the transponder for the Supremacy here, or wait until landfall?+

 

OOC: I am assuming we have such a device...

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi:

“We need to at least reach the shoreline,” Zidemi responded. “The water will suppress frequencies needed to reach the Supremacy. Furthermore, a water-penetrating frequency will not penetrate the magnetic field of the planet.”

 

Zidemi chuckled at his next thought. ”Unless, do we want the Supremacy to attempt atmospheric re-entry?”

 

Spoiler

OOC: Unless there’s a McGuffin I do not know about… but it seemed common sense to me that underwater transmission wouldn’t be viable. Otherwise the above is technically correct AFAIK (re: submarine communication vs surface-to-space communication)

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

+I am grateful such responsibility falls on the broad shoulders of our Sergeant-Hetman,+ he said through grinning teeth.

[Trokair]

Godfrey Na Sylt-Lingon

 

Godfrey listened with intent to the translator’s narration as they meandered through the market. Every once in a while he would gesture a hand signal or two specifically for Moridyn. Signals entirely devoid of meaning, as the other no doubt knew. Let Master Bouchard and his masters speculate at what was passing between Envy Godfrey and his Adjutant.

 

 At one intersection, perhaps having spied more than the usual bustle ahead, Master Bouchard steered them to one side. Not long after troop of the local flavour of Arbites marched, for a given value of the term, past, with two civilian firmly escorted at their centre.

 

“I must confess I am curious Master Bouchard. I have always understood the ‘Biters’ to be of a kind that are less than civilised when encountered. Yet these seem orderly enough, no worse than indentured Ogryns, or dockworkers on a feast days.”

 

---

 

Having reached their destination, a building impressive in its way, perhaps trying a little too hard to be grander than it actually was, they were clearly meant to be impressed. All the more reason for Godfrey to appear anything but.  

 

“Indeed, ...perhaps, If I may.” Godfrey did not actually wait, instead signalling one of the Praetorians to enter the building. The gesture as before was all for show, but Alda hoped that the intent was clear to the einherjar. ‘look around, secure the site.’

 

“Convey my thanks to Lord Jennings for his hospitality. Four hours then, by the fountain.” Godfrey replied, apparently somewhat distracted as he moved into the courtyard.     

[Lysimachus]

OOC: We can assume Bouchard replies to the first part of your post as you are waiting/walking to the guest palace.

 

The Facilitator smiles. Once the Biter escort has passed, he waves you onwards and continues speaking.

 

“Yes, an unusual situation, is it not? It is a very old tale, several millennia ago as I understand it. The Master of the Market at the time had apparently earned the enmity of an infamous Freebooter Warlord, and so employed a Drukhari… Genetor, I suppose would be the Gothic term…? in an attempt to make the Bazaar safe from Ork attack. This Drukhari created a miraculous bio-weapon, using the moon's native bacterial life as a base. Some tellings of the story even imply he had found and used Old One technology! An airborne necrotroph, with a particular taste for orkoid fungi. Unfortunately, it turned out it did nothing to a full grown Ork… but… it did consume their spores. They cannot reproduce here.”

 

“Some observers have claimed that having their life cycle interrupted in this way also has a subconscious physiological effect on the Orks, temporarily lessening their aggressive tendencies… a reasonable enough theory, though even if it is correct, they are still just as dangerous as any greenskin once something rouses them! Sadly, this work did not save the old Master, or his Genetor. The Freebooter Warlord found out what they were trying to do and burned them and half the Bazaar to the ground, including the Drukhari's laboratory and all his research.”

 

Bouchard shrugs.

 

“However, the bacteria could not be wiped out so easily, and now, thousands of years later, it is present all across this moon. So the Orks can visit as they wish, though most tend not to want to stay for any great length of time. However, there are usually a few among the Freebooters who are willing to be recruited to join the Biters, usually for a year or two at most. Under the conditions here, they make for surprisingly good peacekeepers…”

 

He looks around, anticipating the obvious follow up question with a knowing smile.

 

“Oh, and before you ask, it only works here. Bacterial samples die within a few hours of being removed from this moon. We don't know why. We've had more than a few scientists come to study here at the Bazaar over the centuries, including Imperials, trying to replicate the Genetor's work or transpose the necrotrophs to other environments. All unsuccessful, thus far, but new ones still turn up from time to time. Who knows, maybe one day someone will figure out the problem and the threat of the Ork race will be ended forever? Can you imagine the power and fortune that would go to the one who managed it?"

 

He smiles again, and turns onto a side street that leads towards a small but well made stone bridge that crosses one of the many streams. A large white structure is just visible on the other side.

 

“Until then, we just appreciate our good situation and get on with business. Aha, here we are…”

 

 

This brings us back to arriving at the guest palace, so any further comments should reflect that.

 

 

 

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

Each word and sight recorded, each xenos and human categorized as Omoc turned his auspex and enhanced senses upon each new thing. A kill list, priority targets by armament and apparent authority.

 

No sign of their true targets, the inquisitor played their hand too slowly for soon enough this place must burn.

[Lysimachus]

Scene 22. By Torchlight

 

Facilitator Bouchard returns to your accommodations at dusk, with assurances that he has arranged meetings with potential business partners of the Lingon-Sala Trade Dynasty for the following day. After making a few arrangements for your evening meal, and remaining while you eat in case ‘Lord Godfrey’ has any other need of him, he finally retires to one of the palace's servant quarters.

 

Hours pass and night falls over the Bazaar, though the moon's only city does not sleep. Merchant shops may close up, but the many taverns and other… less reputable… establishments remain open throughout the night, the streets lit by crackling open fires or torches, and the stars themselves. Though the heat lessens a little, the humidity remains. Behind the loud music, and the shouts and occasional screams of the lawless population enjoying their utter freedom to do as they wish, a careful listener might still hear the underlying sounds of the surrounding jungle, squawks and screeches, life and death and rebirth.

 

Several kloms away to the south, beneath the shallow sea, the day's light gradually fades and the sub-surface vista of sand and coral formations finally disappears into inky darkness. Were it not for your black carapace allowing you to feel the gentle water currents moving against your armour, you might think yourself a disembodied spirit, such is the absence of stimuli.

 

Flight-Lieutenant Vora sleeps as best she can in her cramped cockpit, protected by a highly advanced, machine spirit-controlled augur system that will wake her if anything should come within one hundred metres of her craft. The shuttle's sensors, carefully calibrated to pick up the slightest movement or the tiniest change in ambient temperature, see nothing… but in the deeper darkness beneath the Inquisitorial shuttle's fuselage, something drops from the rear left landing strut and moves stealthily away from the small vessel.

 

The stowaway moves quickly and purposefully northwards across the landing field, avoiding any of the other shuttlecraft, and approaches the sandstone wall that holds back the ever-encroaching jungle. It climbs quickly and without any appearance of effort, but freezes when there is a sudden loud bang and a flash of light. Some reveller within the city has let off a lone firework or a flare, and for a fraction of a second the dark shape is clearly outlined against the light stonework. If anyone were looking at that precise moment, they would see a humanoid form, but featureless and smooth and utterly black. It hangs motionless like a spider against the wall for a long moment, waiting to see if there will be any further display of pyrotechnics, then continues up and over the parapet of the high wall and disappears into the undergrowth.

 

It is gone as if it never was.

 

 

So, for this week's update, the Infiltration team can continue to try to get information from Bouchard, or to go out and explore the Bazaar's nightlife if you wish. Bear in mind that @Trokair isn't around for a while, but any of you can ask questions if you want?

 

The Strike team can choose to wait where they are (perhaps a klom or two offshore and maybe 5m depth at this point?), or I think someone mentioned about moving into the city itself via the delta rivers? This is possible, though it will require a Silent Move/Concealment test. However, since it is dark and the Bazaar is pretty loud, it should be a fairly simple matter to avoid notice, making the test Routine(+20). Also, as the primary riverlets are probably still several metres deep, if you stay within those I will say that the sound of running water masks the noises made by your armour and you won't need to include the usual -30 penalty for wearing it.

 

Obviously none of you are aware of the shuttle stowaway, but feel free to discuss what you think it means in the OOC!

 

 

 

 

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

A shadowy procession of golems filthy with silt and marine sludge trudged through the sluggish, mud-laden currents of the river delta. Pin-pricks of flickering and distorted light stabbed down from above through the murky particulate soup that enveloped them, and if not for their enhanced vision could have easily been mistaken for the fires of distant suns. Seaweed and grime and an adventurous species of parasitic mollusc encrusted their blackened ceramite hides, and they half resembled animated suits of armour dredged up from some forgotten, watery tomb and sent to find their owners. Their gauntlets clutched cruel and baroque weapons each worth an Imperial hab-block, and the dismal water left in their wake shimmered with equal parts malice and waste heat from the packs mounted upon their backs.

 

Above, revelers and porters and couriers thronged in the narrow streets that lined the canals of the Bazaar and clogged the slender bridges which criss-crossed the dark waterways. Torches guttered in the deepening night and a riot of fluorescent neon signs lit up the tops of the squat buildings jammed together like enormous stone chelicerates jockeying for position along the brick-lined channels. There was a general din of discordant, competing strains of music and the shouted promises of all manner of delights from the throats of ten thousand different merchants in nearly as many different languages and dialects of low gothic in the humid nighttime air above the buzzing of swarms of tiny biting insects.

 

Their doom lurked in the shallows scant meters below them, waiting for the slightest excuse to emerge from the depths and lay waste to their grand works and obliterate their memory. The sword of the Emperor had arrived.

 

 

 

Silent Movement Test

Ag46 + 20 = 66
D100: 45; 2 DoS

Concealment Test
Ag46 + 20 = 66
D100: 35; 3 DoS

Edited November 24 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

Silent Move:

AG 65 + 10 (Sil/Mov Trained) + 20 (Conditions) = 95

D100: 018, PASS, Plus 7 DoS

 

Concealment:

AG 65 +10 (Conceal Trained) + 20 (Conditions) - 10 (Hulking) = 85

D100: 019, PASS, Plus 6 DoS

 

The river water was colder, even if carrying the congealed pollutants of the city. The mineral tang of mountain streams registered to his augurs, stoking longing and resentment as he strode through the dirty veins of a corrupted hulk. He wondered how many diseases Amaras was detecting, how much alien poison tainted the humours of this benighted place.

 

All would soon be washed away when the magma-bomb warheads from the Supremacy cauterised the wound.

[Mike Zulu]

 

Zidemi:

<placeholder for keeping pace with the Strike Team underwater>

 

13 hours ago, Mazer Rackham said:

Silent Move: 46(Ag) + 20 = 66 required

d100: 026 = Pass, 4 DoS

[Lysimachus]

GM Roll of Silent Move for Amaras:

 

Ag64 +20 = 84, Roll: 55, Pass with 2DoS.

 

 

[Lysimachus]

OOC: For the sake of tidiness:

 

Vafri's Silent Move: Ag48 +20 = 68, Roll: 39, Pass with 2DoS.

 

 

Scene 23. Day of Reckoning

 

The first light of a new dawn appears in the skies over the Bazaar. It is relatively quiet, as many visitors spend the first few hours recovering from the night before. However, perhaps two or three hours after the sun's edge makes its appearance at the horizon, you might begin to notice a rising tumult, the sounds of increasing numbers moving across the delta islands. A shuttle takes off from the landing field and rockets skyward, followed by a second, and then a third.

 

Facilitator Bouchard hurries out from his sleeping quarters and heads towards the suite that Alda had taken. His voice is raised, fear plain in his tone.

 

“My Lord? My Lord Godfrey? I must speak with you most urgently! Lord Godfrey?”

 

He bangs on the door, then looks around and sees you have already risen and are standing in the internal courtyard beside the central fountain with your 'bodyguards' around you. He rushes out, sucking in a deep breath to calm himself.

 

“I am truly sorry, my Lord, but all of your meetings for this day have been cancelled. Moreover, I would advise you to leave the Bazaar and this system as quickly as you are able to do so.”

 

He pauses, assessing, then speaks rapidly.

 

“My Lord, I am aware that I have had little opportunity to serve you… but if in that time I have given good service, I wish to request a place aboard your shuttle and your vessel?”

 

 

OOC: Remember that Tro is not currently available, so if anyone else (by this I'm including everyone, both Infiltration and Strike team members) wishes to post a reply from ‘Godfrey’ so that we can keep moving forward, please do.

 

Edited November 29 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Godfrey Na Sylt-Lingon

 

Enjoying the act and the play of the his 'Bodyguards' as they closed in to protect him because of Bouchard's rash movement. 

 

"Certainly that's possible. Now tell me what is all this hectic activity all about. Who has been detected?" 

 

He played to being annoyed at the Lesser squirming before him. He brought a scented silk handkerchief to his face in a flourish. 

 

"Come, come man spit it out, I haven't got all day!" 

 

 

 

 

[Lysimachus]

“I have just received a message from the administrators of the Market. An Astartes warship has entered this system and is making its way towards our moon. It is marked with iconography that identifies it as belonging to the worst of Humanity's xeno-haters. The Inquisition! According to what I have heard, they were attempting to get as close as possible without being spotted. Estimates place them at less than three hours from orbit… and I suspect we all know what will happen once they arrive… Exterminatus!”

 

He hisses the last in a panicked whisper.

 

“None of our vessels are warships, my Lord. Traders and courier ships will not attempt to face a heavy Cruiser. If an army comes to take this place from us, we will not fight them. We split up, we run! Prince Kal’li-nath of the Serpents has promised that his raiders will harry them, enough to slow them down so that we might flee… but we must get to your vessel in orbit around the gas giant and leave as quickly as possible!”

 

OOC: As you may have guessed, along with each weekly update since you arrived in the Bazaar system, I have also been rolling Starship Piloting tests for the Supremacy to arrive and approach the moon without being spotted. Commander Ibrym and his crew have done pretty well, but these tests have obviously been getting harder as the Strike Cruiser gets closer and closer. This week, as you may also have guessed, the test was finally failed!

 

However, this could be a good opportunity to bring the team back together? Now the Strike team have moved up into the city rivers, you will be back in comms range of the Infiltration team. And as the Bazaar empties, it will be much easier for you to move around as you wish? Of course, you'll have to decide whether to start chasing down the fleeing merchants, or to focus on what might be more of a priority to your overall mission?

 

 

 

Edited November 30 by Lysimachus