[Dark Heresy] The Unthrinn Legacy

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

He probably should have moderated his play, thrown a few hands in to diffuse concern. But he had been eager for a game and a win, and apparently luck had fallen on his side - at least as far as the cards go. Skive glances around the table and the room beyond to try and gauge how interested anyone else is in this dispute and on what lines they might fall. If it gets ugly, he needs to know who he has to deal with, and who might fall in on his side. The list for the latter is pretty slim: he's not even sure that Hack will be willing to step up in the event that fists - or slugs - start flying.

He knows he's not a smooth talker, especially with this kind of crowd: people that he doesn't know, a society he's barefully scratched, and little common ground. He's unlikely to ingragiate himself with some easy words. Its a better bet to meet the challenge straight on and hope that he can cow the man before anyone else falls in on his side. With this in mind he leans forward - standing might escalalte things further than he wants - and bristles at the accusation.

"Cheat? You play a bad hand, and its not my fault anymore than whoever you lost to last week, and whoever you'll lose to next. If you can't swallow that, maybe you should be playing scutterball in the street with the other children." He lets the money sit in the table, and keeps his hands in sight. If he does come to blows, he won't start with a weapon anyway. "The power to peel a man's flesh from his bones, or burn out his mind and leave him bleating like a Grox, and you think it's used to push cards?" He narrows yellow eyes at the man, ready to react to any show of force.

Making two checks here. Scrutiny v. Perception to judge the mood of the table, and Intimidate v. Strength to try and scare him into backing down - if you decide that the Intimidate should be Intelligence instead, the stats are the same
[13, 18]

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

The air is hot and filled with the electric charge of hostility. It's a tangible thing, something you can feel – the stifling heat as you breath in the air, the little slow down of time, the prickling of skin and hair standing up on end. These men are obviously not happy, and reality already bends about Skive.

The psyker's eyes dart about as he spits out his insults and his threats, and he sees, all around the table – men with hands on their weapons, legs coiled, ready to spring. The table is stacked against you. There is no surprise what happens next, and everyone is fully prepared for it.

“Threaten me, void-freak?!”

The big monster of a man grabs the table with one hand and rips the rickety wooden thing upwards, sending it end over end and bouncing against the wooden floor, sending chips, drinks, ashtrays and thrones bouncing away.

Roll Initiative. You're attempt to scare the man did not work – you're not too imposing and your tricks do not deceive him, for a man is always blinded from reason by money. He's darting forward and punching with a pair of brass knuckles. The man beside him is starting to get up and pull a knife.

The other two are going to stand up and come at Hack.

[11, 9, 8, 7]

Venton Octus
Temple Omnissiah, Hive Scintilla Mid-Spire

You travel the short distance for a long time, constantly stopping to observe the wonders of technology. Scintilla isn't nearly as amazing as Tarsus had been for you, but it's still quite amazing. Too long, you had spent your days trapped in the confined spaces of the Forgeworld, and had barely noticed – but here, to see such magnificent machines, like works of art, in use and thriving with life is a completely different feeling.

You enter the Temple Omnissiah, pushing past the skitarii guards and the great cog embellished upon wrought steel, entering a world so different to all but utterly familiar to you. The world is alive with binaric chatter, the sparks of great machines and fires, the clatter of servitor drones and the shuffling of walkers and adepts.

You see the familiar red-robes, your brothers of the Priesthood. Your eyes scream and whirl as they focus on everything, the world lighting up with data feeds and green notes, telling ranks and names and all you could wonder, floating above machines made in flesh. Your augmented eyes open up a sight that would drive a normal man insane within moments.

Above you, captured in light and invisible hands, floats the gigantic, cavernous skull of a God-Machine, the operating bay of an Emperor-class Titan, mighty and daunting against the high-vaulted ceilings of this place.

You could almost imagine your knees trembling.

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

Well, so much for the bluff - if only it had worked half as well as it had in the card game. Here he had been hoping for some easy hours before the grueling (for him) space trip, but apparently that wasn't in the - hah - cards.

As the man throws the table up and scatters things all over the place, Skive pushes back and away in his chair, letting it clatter to the floor as he rises, hoping to put enough distance between himself and the man to react. With everyone else piling in, this seems like its going to get unpleasant pretty quickly. Apparently Hack had been drawn in whether or not she was interested, so the question on his mind was what exactly the Arbite was going to do. Certainly it fell within his bounds to keep the peace, but Skive couldn't say whether that would mean putting down the thugs or himself.

Maybe his luck would swing the other way again.

Rolling for initiative: [5+3] = [8]
Pretty sure that loses to the attacker. I'll wait for the beating before declaring actions?

[Daeva]

Hack-Tin Can

She knew there was going to be trouble when the accusation came. The sparks of anger were familiar, something she felt in a ship den, arguing over weighted dice. She hadn't gotten a chance to test her luck, but maybe a few bodies would offer her something worth while. She's waiting for the strike, almost anxiously. And it comes, not only at her current company, but at her. Apparently she was enough associated to be considered as a target.

Two men rise to come after her, and quick as a flash her combat shotgun is out. She shifts her weight, holding the weapon in two hands. She swings its bulk at that man closes to him, in an attempt to knock him down to the ground, and attacks the same man with her bayonet.

Rolling Knock Down, And Standard Attack. And Charmed.
[18] [27] Rerolled [56]Charmed [4]

[Inquisitor]

Hack, Skive
The Tin Can

Shit hits the fan mighty quickly as people begin to jump back, obscura dealers scramble for chips and dropped thrones, and there's a general explosion of noise. While most psykers suffer from unnaturally bad luck, apparently, the many stars and saints above smile down on Skive. A little slow on the uptake, but, marvelously enough, the heavy man missteps and sends  his punch wide, and the skulker coming up beside him, with his mono-edged blade, is forced to quickly step aside, dropping his knife blow.

Meanwhile, Hack doesn't have nearly as much luck as our psychic friend. She slashes out with her blade and the man ducks under it, moving forward and palming his knife – he swings low and for her side, just in time to miss as she steps forward, slamming her shotgun across the man's chest and putting her body weight into it.

Unfortunately, it isn't enough. The tiny little female doesn't pack nearly enough punch to push the scum back more than a handful of inches, where he draws back his arm and snaps out with his knife, catching her cheek below the line of her helmet and drawing a ragged line down her skin.

Heavy => Hack => Skulker => Skive => Scum => Scum2.

The Heavy and Skulker both missed their melee attacks, but are ganging up on Skive. The skulker is favoring his knife, due to the close proximity and his friends nearby. Hack bumbles into Scum 1 as Scum 2 stumbles past her. Scum 1 is deft and quick footed, and gives Hack a nasty cut, for 5 damage.

Edit: Just noting that Skive can still go before the two scum attack Hack, if he wishes to interfere, and Hack can attempt her dodge. 

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

Giving thanks to the spirits of the departed - and of course the Emperor - Skive makes use of the fumble among his enemies. From around his back he pulls his wooden staff, a gnarled length of wood polished by time and handling to a dull shine, with a simple stone symbol of an eye embedded in the knot at the top. It's not a high tech weapon, but one that he has used since his time on Dusk to fend off danger. He plants this between himself and the two attackers, looking to fend off blows.

Having drawn a weapon, he unbars the gate in his mind that leads into a dark and terrible place, letting the power of the Warp seep through. His mind burning with the energy, he lashes out at the Heavy, trying to flood it into the man's nervous system and overwhelm him with pain. Perhaps if he faces the reality of 'void magic', he'll lose his motivation to fight. And if the Heavy falls, Skive hopes the opportunistic Skulker will opt for discretion instead of valor.

As Skive sears the man in front of him with the raw Warp energy, he wrestles the gateway wider to strike out at one of the men attacking Hack as well; perhaps it will lend her enough chance to overcome the man. The amount of power flowing through the Psyker and the bar begins to bend the air and reality itself. Blood seeps from stone and wood all through the area, tainting the air with the tang of copper and staining hangings and rugs a deep crimson.

Skive is using a Half Action to draw his weapon, and another Half Action to focus Inflict Pain on the Heavy.
Psy 2 test v. Threshold of 8: [8,9 + 3 = 20]
That will carry the power with one level of Overbleed, which allows him to project the power onto an additional enemy: I'll make it one of the Scum.
The 9 means a Psychic Phenomena, though: [47] Bloody Tears with range 11meters

[Daeva]

Hack-Tin Can

A familiar splitting pain scraps along her cheek with the blade. This wasn't working. The strength she had here didn't count as much it would in the zero, or low gravity she was use to in space. A mistake that cost her some blood, something to soon be corrected. She faces her attacker, slipping her shotgun back into its place, and in a flash, drawing her pistol, raising it to the man whom had slashed her with his knife, and firing.

She was a bit focused to really notice what Skive was up to, but she knew he was doing something. There was a familiarity about him that wasn't there before. A dreaded, familiar sensation.

Half action to holster weapon, free action to draw pistol, half action to shoot.
Dodge [86]
SA[31]

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

Skive stands up and plants his staff, ducking his head and opening his mind, channeling the very essence of the Warp into the room. The space around him chills, yet the air becomes burning, stifling hot, almost unbearable.

And then the heavy-set man before Skive suddenly screams in pain, recoiling for a moment as invisible flames lap over his skin, the nerves underneath his dermis suddenly deciding to flare into sudden and burning life, inflaming the skin and turning it a tinge of red. Beside him, the smug-looking scum who just slashed Hack does much the same, turning to fall back, giving Hack the necessary amount of time to draw her pistol and fire. The bullet embeds itself in his right arm and he careens over a falling chair and smashes against the floor. Thanks to Skive, the pain in his arm feels much, much worse then it really is.

The room doesn't like that. There's a roar as suddenly, the shanty walls and tables and chairs and other things begin to run red with blood, and a large, if cruel, painting of the Saint Drusus begins to weep sanguine tears.

The Enforcer stands up from a table across, and begins to shout, barely heard among the other shouts – screams for blood, more violence.

The heavy set man, enraged and in pain, trundles forward and takes a swing.

Bewildered, the skulker stumbles back about three meters, sheathing his knife and drawing his stub-pistol.

The Heavy swings wide, probably due to his mind now flooded with pain. The skulker will drop back and draw his pistol after Hack's round.

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

Things were getting pretty ugly pretty quickly, and it didn't sound like the rest of the room was particularly keen on siding with Skive and Hack - who was probably regretting her decision to saddle herself with him on this outing. Skive's best hope is that they can drive off the four they're dealing with, and that the rest of the room will be dissuaded from getting involved long enough for them to make an exit.

Skive continues to focus his will on the two combatants, letting the warpfire slowly roast their nervous systems. He's deliberate about it, careful, reciting the Litany of Protection in his mind: Mighty Emperor, spread Your divine light to protect me from the darkness. As angry as he might be, he must not let the rage take hold of his power: that way lies a sickening void and a fate worse than an untimely death in an Obscura den. Trying to reign in the spasms of energy that distort the world around them, he attempts to wrestle them back under his control, and use them to guide his staff.

Speaking of which, he'll swing the staff up and around in a wide arc, trying to slam the end into the Heavy's head. The stone emblem is decorative, but it also has a good weight to it!

Inflict Pain is a Sustainable power, so Skive will keep it up on the two men he hit; they'll suffer the same penalty as long as its active. He's also using a Half Action to try and focus Lucky on himself:
Psy 2 test v Threshold of 6 [6, 4 +3 -4(as he's already sustaining a power) = 9]
The other Half Action is a Standard Attack on the Heavy: [85] (Rerolled using Lucky) [97]

The Emperor Protects.

[Daeva]

Hack-Tin Can

That was far too much pain for a simple gunshot, but she wasn't going to argue that her former attacker shouldn't be rolling on the floor in pain. He deserved it. She points her gun at his head, hoping to take him out while he's down. She fires in full auto, pulling her muzzle across to the scum at her side, looking to pump a few bullets in him as well.

Full Action (Full auto fire)
[94] Rerolled [90] Charmed [2]

The dice hate me.

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

The God-Emperor giveth, the God-Emperor taketh away. A slew of bad circumstances. The heavy sents his punch wide from agony, and Skive cracks his staff against the floor in response.

Hack levels her pistol and begins to fire, but her aim is askew – she's used to recoil in low-gravity situations, not where she was firmly footed and the gun bucked around like it did, sending all of her shots into the ceiling rather swiftly.

The scum beside her capitalizes, shouting something about an “ugly, scarred-up bitch” shooting his friend in the arm. He steps forward and slashes with his knife, before he continues moving with his knife in an attempt to knock her down.

The heavy man, recuperating, swings once more with his brass knuckles, before stepping back to try and grab something off the floor.

The scum swings and attempts a knock-down. He flounders in his step and winds up slamming into her awkwardly – but he gets his knife in good and hard, and unless Hack is swift on her feet, she's going to take a nasty hit for eight damage.

Next round begins, and the Heavy throws a punch before moving to grab his chainsword, left on the floor. He swings wide again, due to excruciating pain.

[Daeva]

Hack-Tin Can

The blade rips through some important parts, going right through her flak jacket A gutteral sound is forced from her throat with the pain, and the force of the blow knocks her off her feet and to the floor. Everythings bleeding. She's bleeding, the tables and walls. She's in trouble and she knows it, but theres still the threat infront of her. She needed to heal herself, but couldn't, as it would open her up for attack. From her place on the floor she raises her gun and fires full auto at her attacker, hoping her adjustments for the additional gravity work with her to down her attacker. Or at least hurt him a whole lot.

Full Action: Full Auto Burst
[45]

About time

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

Hack lets out a guttural scream as as the scum pushes forward, knocking her off her feet, but, worse yet, forcing his knife through layers of protective armor, the blade digging in deep into her stomach, tearing as she falls away to the floor, sending out a fresh spray of red-black blood.

But, apparently, she's not going down gently. She holds down the trigger on her auto-pistol, and two rounds slam into the man's chest, before she redecorates the ceiling. The man stumbles back two yards and collapses with a wheezing gasp, clutching his chest.

The skulker draws his silenced pistol and hurriedly snaps off three shots – but every single one misses after the hasty draw, as he can't draw a bead on his advancing target – the Enforcer.

The scum takes a whopping thirteen wounds, causing him to become stunned for one round. And breaks a rib. His buddy, however, starts to stand up.

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

Having failed to connect with the Heavy, Skive mutters a curse. His eyes flick to the cry from Hack as she goes down, which earns another curse from the Psyker - she'd been dragged into all this and taken the worse part of the beating for it. The Heavy had - luckily - had a bad time trying to overcome his pain and connect with the slim man.

A quick evaluation followed. The Skulker seemed to be intent on the Enforcer, which tied up those two for the moment, and hopefully would put the Enforcer on their side, as much as anyone's. Hack had hopefully just put one man down, and injured the other - but he was looking to stand. Skive doubted that he could drop the Heavy in a single blow even with the best of luck, but to drop the injured man... that would put it to him and Hack against the Heavy, much cleaner odds.

Skive lets the staff fall into one hand and pulled an old-fashioned Stubgun from his robes. The weapon was nothing remarkable, but it was durable and rugged, and hopefully enough to put down an injured man. He snapped off a quick shot at the man struggling to rise.

Skive is going to put his faith in the Emperor and ignore the Heavy. It's a Half Action to ready a weapon (pistol) and another Half Action to attack.
[32]

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

The psyker whips around and draws his revolver, and pulls the trigger. A heavy thud, and the man flops back over on his back, the shot blowing a grisly hole in his chest. Not a pretty site. The skulker, firing as he does, is met with the ka-rump sound of a shotgun firing, before the ever familiar and always terrifying sound of a the pump being drawn back, another shell being chambered. The skulker is hit in the right arm and whirls around with a high-pitched scream, before falling.

The enforcer comes up beside Skive, stepping over bodies and Hack, keeping the shotgun levelled with the heavy-set man.

“I'd stand down if ya could think for a second with that fat head o yers, Hicks.”

And the big bartender, Grox, is pushing his way through the crowd towards the debacle that's tearing his little shit hole apart.

It's been maybe a minute.

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

The long arm of the law to the rescue! If Skive was a betting man (as we know he is) he would have put money on them pulling through in the long run, but it would probably have been in a pretty bad way. Hack is a little battered as is, and Skive is lucky that he didn't have to take a shot from the Heavy with his head. Of course, there's no telling how much trouble they're about to be in with the law.

With this in mind, Skive decides not to get involved in the confrontation between shotgun and Hicks. Instead he tucks his pistol back into the holster beneath his robes, and offers Hack a hand up, bracing himself with the staff. If she takes the offer, or otherwise rises on his own, he'll speak in a subdued voice. "It seems my luck runs pretty sour. You'll make it?" She seemed like she would pull through, and he wasn't sure he wanted to push his luck with Warp power right now.

Skive's attention is now spread between the Enforcer and Hick, and the approaching barman. All of this was quite the mess, and he didn't think they were likely to catch a break on the matter. They could certainly try, but he suspected that he was going to be due the damage all the blood had done, at least. His voice returns to regular volume. "A mess all round, we tried to avoid a fight. The man and his friends came at us first, first to weapons and first to draw blood."

[Daeva]

Hack-Tin Can

The shotgun blast made her jump. She knew what those things could do to someone. Hell, she had one on her. But the blast was friendly, aimed towards thier attackers. She grunts and just lays on the floor a moment, peering up at the Enforcer as she tucks her pistol away. She fingers the wound on her cheek, and after a while of just laying here, absorbing the pain, and pushes herself up to a sitting position. She takes Skive's extended hand, and hauls herself up with some effort.

"Fucking rotten luck and I didn't do nothing either." She complains lightly, hand over her knife wound. She pulls open her jacket and pulls up her shirt just enough to check the wound visually. "You'd better make my blood worth it in the long run. I don't like bleeding for no reason." She'll be fine. She lets Skive do the talking and slumps into a seat, untying the bandage like cloth she's been using as gloves to wrap around her torso wound.

Medicae(First Aid)
[10]

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

The Enforcer looks around, between the two of you and Grox, and the men. He cuffs “Hicks” and brutally shoves him down into a booth, before dragging over and cuffing the rest of the men, all injured. “Don't worry, Grox, we'll get it all handled.” And then a hand to his ear and he's murmuring to himself, three wounded, one critical, need a medicae vehicle and back up.

And then with that, he stands up, putting the butt of the pump action to the ground and standing before Skive and the now slightly patched up Hack.

“What're you doin' out 'ere, freak? Who's jurisdiction are you unda? Throwin' your void-magicks around is a serious offense around here. As is discharging a weapon in a public atmosphere, causing structural damage, trauma, endangering innocents...”

[Voonderking]

Drustos - Mid-Spire Alley


Drustos emerges from behind cover, only to see the Inquisitor's servant of some description with a blade to the assailant's throat. The Guardsman lowers his weapon and steps over to Thrall, his weapon trained at the wounded man. Upon Thrall's suggestion of leaving, Drustos lingers a moment, staring at the man who meant to kill him. With a bit of a sigh, the Guardsman squeezes the trigger of his Hellgun. With a dry crack, a superheated bolt is sent into the wounded man's head, “Live for the Emperor or die alone, Scum.”

Slinging his weapon he breaks into a jog to catch up with Thrall, “I appreciate your timely arrival, friend, but I must ask; did you follow me or was it simply the Emperor's will?”

[Ketch]

Venton Octus - Temple Omnissiah

Venton had relaxed slightly as he walked to the temple, admiring the works of the local tech-priests, but as was generally the case when out among the world, he maintained a level of discomfort. Once he had reached the temple, however, this finally melted away; here was a familiar setting, at last, without the degrading taint of the filthy masses. This was a place where the rules of protocol and conduct, rank, formality, and ceremony made sense to him, though most of it was unseen or unheard by those without the Mechanicus implants. Simple binary acknowledgments in place of vocal or visual greetings; nigh imperceptible gestures of reverence, deference, or favour; inquiries, arguments, discussions, and agreements that take place in a fraction of the time it would take a non-cult member to express verbally. This was Venton's world.

At the sight of the great Titan's visage looming overhead, its cold stare beyond imposing, daring the enemies of the Imperium to show their faces, Venton would have been left breathless, were it possible to voluntarily halt the implant powering his air intake. He'd never seen such a thing in all his days on the forge world; Haddrack produced largely parts and weapons, focusing mostly on las, plasma, and holo tech. To see such a thing as this was a dream come true; at least, it would be if Venton's Mechanicus modifications hadn't made dreaming impossible.

He immediately began making inquiries as to how he might be allowed to inspect it more closely. Even to just be allowed to stand near such a holy Machine and to be able to worship in the presence of such a powerful Spirit was a pleasure beyond any he'd yet known or expected. He decided that the inspection of the ship may have to be delayed.

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

He offered the wounded Hack a swift, feral grin "Blood spilled must always be repaid. It makes you Adehlv, eh? I'm good for it." He doesn't have the opportunity to explain that comment, if its not understood, as the Enforcer is descending upon them. Seeing as he's unhurt and pretty much at the heart of all this, it seems only fair that he put himself into lion's mouth. The lawman seems pretty straight - something of a mixed blessing, because while it means the man isn't in the buy of the gang they fought, it probably means he'll stick them with the book.

The Psyker does his best to be respectful. "I'm sorry, I am just arrived from Malfi. The portguards were no help at letting on the local laws. My papers." Skive produces a slim sheaf of documents to present to the law, a simple certificate of his service in the Telepathica and the sigil that marks his membership. It obvious that he's not going to be able to lie around being a freak, but at least he's a sanctioned freak. "The damage, ah, it was the large man who threw the table, and they set upon us - four to two, and this woman was not even in the game! A bystander!"

That was his go at trying to foist the blame onto the other group - where, fairly, it lay. But it would probably earn them a bit of traction to pay their dues. "But things got out of hand, yes. I hope that I can settle the problem with the owner here, for our part?"

It was, after all, hard to blame the part where the walls bled on anyone else.

Let me know if you'd like some sort of check for the situation

[Daeva]

Hack-Tin Can

She shot her companion a confused look, obviously not understanding the made comment. "Right...long as your good for it." She murmurs, more then happy to let the psyker handle the lawman, and take the brunt of his wrath. She rests herself for now, closing her eyes, hand on her wounded side. It was patched up, and would stop bleeding soon. It would heal fine, but it still hurt like hell at the moment. She hadn't even bothered with the gash on her cheek. The skin was thin, and there was no way to wrap it. She placed a hand on it now with applied pressure to stop the bleeding, more because it was staining her already ratty clothes than it cost her her health.

[Inquisitor]

Skive, Hack
The Tin Can

The enforcer tosses the shotgun up and swings it over his shoulder by the strap, reaching into a pocket for an auspex like scanning device, taking the papers and scanning them over. He flips through the papers, reading a few things, doubling back, moving forward, skipping passages. His face darkens ever so slightly as he does, until they culminate in him making a little 'hrmm', almost growling.

“...to be delivered into the service of His Holy Ordos.” Remarks the enforcer, handing the papers back. “You poor son of a bitch. I don't envy you. I'd be careful who I showed these around too. Talk to Grox, I'll be by the door to see you two out.”

He looks around for a moment, finding a lho stick and sparking it. “I don't trust these bleddy fucks not ta go after ya fer what you did.”

More of the local police force are starting to come in, as well as medicae staff, to take out the wounded and cuffed.

Grox is standing by looking supremely pissed.

Venton Octus
Temple Omnissiah

As you get your bearings, a local adept comes over. He looks remarkably unmodified – his face shows no outward signs of modification, other then the slits in his throat to allow him to speak in the binary code of the Adeptus Mechanicus.  If not for the red robe, outlined in white, you almost would not be able to tell where his allegiances lied. Obviously, he is the human face of the Temple – to speak to the Imperials who pass through.

He opens his mouth, releasing the comforting, familiar white noise.

++ Greetings, Brother Venton! A long way from Haddrack to visit our humble Temple. You wish to examine the head?

Aah, yes...Right this way. Repulsor lift, you see. The whole chassis is suspended in the same manner – quite a beautiful work of art, don't you think?++

Definitely the ambassador to Imperials. He speaks a lot, you notice, but you don't curtail him. He outranks you and you are a guest. He leads you onto a metal disk, without any guard rails, and it rises triumphantly with a flick of the savant's wrists. It stops just outside a door that whisks open, and he steps forward, leading you into the cavernous skull of the Emperor-class Titan. The disk descends without any weight on it, and he stays at the door.

++ Explore to your heart's content, Brother. Do not be afraid if you hear the rumblings...The Spirit still rests within this hallowed servant of the Omnissiah. The God-Machine still hungers for war, but we have not been able to acquisition a hull from Mars or a neighboring forge world – nor transport the head off world ++

[SixStringSamurai]

Thrall - Mid-Spire Alley

The sound of a hellgun's quick retort has Thrall marching at a brisker pace. Not a guilty man's run, but just fast enough to find a crowd to vanish into. An easy enough job in a Hive. Drustus, knowing who to look for, should find his company easy enough.

"Both."

A look over his shoulder, then back forward. "I need to know the strengths and weaknesses of those I'm to work with. Who I can rely on. The Emperor deemed that I would be with you if you needed an extra weapon. You did not." Sounds like a compliment, sort of.

[Ball-o-Cheese]

Skive - The Tin Can

He offers the Enforcer a grim nod for his appraisal of their situation - if the man feels sorry for them, so much the better. "Thank you. We'll be careful to stay out of trouble." Which he certainly meant. He had no great desire to get them into any further mess, and the time remaining before their ship sailed was too long to get embroiled in some sort of vendetta. Hopefully the law would keep this lot under key overnight and spare them any revenge attacks before they were safely offworld.

Well. One down, one to go. Skive turns his attention to Grox, the aptly named barkeep, who is probably going to be the harder party to soothe. On the upside, it was unlikely that Grox will try and crush his skull with all the lawmen trickling in. Although if this is a police haunt, they might let him take a swing. Skive does his best to look apologetic, which is only partly an act - he really does regret filling the place with the spatter of blood, both from their attackers and the Void.

"I am sorry for our role in all this, you see. These men attacking us, we had little choice, but you had no part. What can I do to make amends?" The answer to that was pretty certain to be cash, of which Skive had some. He'd obviously prefer to part with as little as possible, but there were not very many other options - he supposed that he could spend the next few hours scrubbing things clean, but he suspected Grox would prefer to simply see them gone. He wished he had snatched up the winnings while he had the chance, it would have padded him for a payour now. Damn.