The Pillars of Eternity

Weyland sat patiently as orbit was broken. He wouldn't have described himself as "eager." That was an adjective that had long, long ago abandoned its place in any description of him. Even still, there was a tinge of excitement deep down in the part of him that was still human. But excitement had to be tempered with patience and resolve.

He stared briefly at the casks of Ploin Juice he had ordered loaded onto the ground teams' vehicles. If the reports were accurate, the natives would be nutritionally starved; this would remedy that. He had told Khulo as much. But what he had not told him was what he had done shortly after they were loaded.

He had gifted them. The blood in his veins, the saliva in his mouth, the tears in his eyes, all held the gifts of Papa Nurgle. A single drop in each cask was all it took - not enough to change their smell or taste or look, but enough to start a very, very slow burning fire. Soon, the Tzeentch worshipers would understand the power of a New God.

"Rules of Engagement: we will not fire unless fired upon. Let us engage them diplomatically first and foremost. Let's see what they want. Begin scans - give me local numbers and any weapons among them - prioritize heavy weapon emplacements. Make ready for a potential ambush."

As the barge touched down and the vehicles disembarked, Weyland would be the first to greet them.

Weyland opened the top hatch of the command vehicle, a monster of a Rhino APC meant to carry Astartes into battle. He stood, allowing his head and torso above the vehicle.

If he is greeted with silence, he will speak. "Greetings."

Last Right

Herschel's order to open fire was met as the armsmen alongside Loki and Hass with his dual plasma pistols opened up on the horror horde. It was a good decision as each horror that perished reformed into two blue horrors. The horde looked to almost double in size only to be cut down again and reform again in bigger numbers.

[Total damage to the horde from Herschel was 4 reducing the number down to 11 but with blue horrors is jumped to 19 (11 pink horrors and 9 blue horrors). The group did 5 damage to blue horrors and 2 damage to the pink horrors. The horde is now 16 in number (9 pink horrors and 8 blue horrors.]

Horror Horde:

The remaining horrors are able to pull themselves free from the crushing center of the warp vortex and struggle their way out of its pull. Even though they're free they've spent all their attention on escaping and not attacking leaving them vulnerable.

"Go after the blue ones first!" Belladonna yelled with psychic energy behind it to clearly cut through the din of battle.

Weyland: Planet Side

The vehicles disembarked in a combat wedge with Weyland's Rhino acting at the spear point.

"I'm only picking up ten bodies. No signs of hidden emplacements. Weapons on the ten is unknown." The Rhino's auspex operator told him before they stopped in front of the ten locals.

Weyland is met by a bitter cold wind as he lifts himself through the top hatch. The locals are dressed in heavy winter duds save for one who has a heavy blue cloak. The cloak is riddled with markings and runes Weyland can't make out but the sigils of Tzeentch stand out clearly to him.

The blue cloaked individual stepped forward as Weyland introduced himself. Under the cloaks hood Weyland could make out a scrunched up face with features that constantly moved and shifted across it.

"Greetings sky men," The blue cloaked leader said. "We here are rarely graced by visitors from beyond. We would like to welcome you and invite you to our village if you'd be so inclined. I'm sure you have many tales we could listen to, trade supplies, or answer questions you might have."

[Give me a Scrutiny +0 roll.]

Weyland stayed as still as a statue as the shifting face spoke.

Tzeentch. These followers couldn't be trusted, but to be fair neither could Weyland. He watched carefully, closely scrutinizing the twisting miasma of a face...

Spoiler:

"What a friendly proposal. Trading supplies and getting information is exactly why we have come," Weyland countered. "Where is your village from here?"

The shifting faced leader smiled. "It isn't far. We'll happily guide you and your compatriots there."

The leader turned and his group moved with him. The vehicles kept up at a slow space and after a few miles you could spot an encampment nestled up under a natural overhang from a cliff face. Weyland counted at least 30 individual tents.

The whole encampment was out at the outskirt to greet their visitors with gifts of food and drink.

"I hope our meager offerings are enough to satisfy you. This planet is harsh and isn't gifted with much bounty." The leader said as they came up to the edge of the village.

The top deck hatch of Weyland's rhino popped open and Fimolov poked his laughing skull helmet out.

He looked out over the village. "Are we really going to play with the locals? We have enough support and knowledge of this planet that we don't need them."

Weyland stayed inside the Rhino as they made the journey. He had heavily considered ordering their greeters killed on the spot. Something inside of him had told him to hold off. Papa Nurgle was speaking to him. This gathering was far larger - a much drier bundle of twigs upon which to burn with the Father's blessings.

"Etthart, give the servitors commands to be at full alert. They will attempt to ambush us here. Our guard shall not be dropped, not even for a moment. Priority target is the one who spoke to us; he dies first if it comes to that." He then relayed the same message to Fimolov.

"The leader, the one who speaks, his words are coated with lies. He will attempt to take advantage of us here. We are on their turf, but we can even the score rather quickly." Weyland took a cask and exited the vehicle once they had come to a stop. With the combat servitors on full alert, and his trusted retinue under the same suspicions as he, Weyland felt confident that they were as safe as could be in the belly of this beast.

He had a servitor carry the cask so that his hands were free to wield his weapons at a moment's notice, should he need to.

"Your generosity is duly noted, though I must admit that I do not know your name. Where I come from, if someone provides shelter, food, and water, then they must be rewarded as such. This is the finest ploin juice in my vessel's hold. It is filled with vitamins, minerals, and proteins that will make your tribe strong - strong enough to have an edge over any rivals. Open and distribute."

Weyland lifted his helmet with a hiss, took the glass, and drank it to show that it was not poisoned. He then motioned for the servitor to hand the cask to the nearest tribesmen.

Spoiler:

"Chief Alm is my name." The leader said taking a short bow.

"We gladly except your gift! However, I also insist you try a local brew. You drink ours and we'll drink yours! A fair trade as far as I'm concerned." Alm said. "Bring up some of our local brew!" Alm yelled out.

After Weyland lifted his helmet there was some gasps from the tribesman. The mark of Nurgle, the horns, and his horrible visage, were all visible now. Alm's reaction was just a larger smile then Weyland had seen on him.

The tribesman took the cask and as they cracked it open while another tribesman came forward with around ten mugs cupped in his arms. He passed a mug to every non-servitor in Weyland's expedition he could find.

Etthart looked at it suspiciously while Fimolov held it in his hands but he didn't remove his helmet to drink it.

Alm laughed and took one of the mugs and drank from one. A show like that of Weyland's that it wasn't poison.

The expedition looked to Weyland for orders. In the mean time the cask of ploin juice was being distributed out by the tribesman. No one was drinking yet though. They seemed to be waiting on Weyland and his group to join them or for them to drink first.

"The servants do not enjoy the honor of drinking with their chief," Weyland said, taking the cup from Etthart and eyeing the non-servitor members of the group. Weyland trusted Fimolov, a fellow Astartes and veteran at that, to make his own decision.

For Weyland it was easy. Nurgle had gifted him long ago with power over toxin, poison, and disease. He looked at the drink, smelled it deeply, and exhaled. He then raised the glass, waiting for this Chief Alm's followers to do the same, and once they did, drank deeply.

Spoiler:

Last Right

Herschel grits his teeth. So many of the demons survived...

He followed Belladonna's advice and unleashed a barrage of psychic energy from his palm - after protecting himself with a telekinetic shield, of course.

A torrent of crackling warp energies spew forth from his palm - so much that Herschel feels a slight shiver run down his spine. He suspects someone less in tune with the warp would have suffered some ill effects, but Herschel was no apprentice in the arts of sorcery...

He watches with glee as the bolts of eldritch lightning arc forward toward the gibbering horrors.

rolls:

Ground Side: Weyland

[If you'd like Fear 2/Stuff of Nightmares to kick off I can do that. Always like to leave the choice to the player when they want to enact Fear stuff. It will have an effect.]

Weyland downed the mug of liquid. The villagers did so in turn as well. Chief Alm joined in at the very last moment.

Something was happening to Weyland... it was just hard to tell what.

[Three rolls here. Scrutiny -10%, Willpower +0%, Medicae -10%.]

Last Right

Herschel's doombolts found there mark on two blue horrors erasing them from reality.

The rest of the group followed Balladonna's orders and focused on the blue horrors and mowed through them.

[9 Pink Horrors remain.]

The remaining demons danced and leapt down the hall. All the while they tossed warpfire in front of them.

Pink Horrors:

Balls of warpfire arched through the tight hall and came crashing down into the armsmen at the front. Two of them were outright killed but eighteen of them still stood. However, the horrible visages of the demons were now easier to see... it was a sight no man was intended to see.

[Everyone here needs to make a Willpower -20% test unless they have Fearless. Hass, Loki, and Balladonna are good among the NPCs. Hass is going to use his Iron Discipline talent for those that fail but it won't work for Herschel.]

Armsmen:

DeClasse:

"You will hold the line! We will repel the demons! If anyone takes one step back I will put a plasma round right through you!" Hass bellowed.

Herschel scowls. This combat was taking too long - the pathetic demons were now only a mere annoyance to him, a distraction from his greater plans to start a cult and find the vault.

His irritation swelling, Herschel lets the TK shield down. It was time to finish this - he flicks both wrists forward to unleash a doombolt and warp vortex at the same time. The warp energies seem to channel more directly into the doombolt than the vortex - the latter only swirls some dirt around on the floor. Disappointing, but the bolts will still bring pain to these troublesome demons.

rolls:

[OOC: Ah, ok cool. I was always waiting for you to narrate its effects, but your way of handling it makes much more sense. I won't quite activate it yet.]

Weyland had taken a calculated risk. It didn't bother him to drink; should something happen, he knew that all of those present would die in a hail of bolter and heavy gun fire. He attempted to make sense of what the sensations were...

Rolls:

Ground Side: Weyland

Scrutiny:

The effects of the drink on Weyland are muted but they still had an effect on him. It wasn't pain or agony that Weyland felt. It was more like he was floating, colors looked brighter, voices sounded crisper and more angelic. It was incredibly euphoric. He tried to decipher was this concoction consisted of but the effects hit him fast leaving his head and mental faculties spinning.

[Muted effects: Weyland is susceptible to manipulation. He needs to make a Willpower +10% test to resist it when it comes up. Any Intelligence and Agility test is at a -10%. Perception tests are at a +10%.]

Alm whipped his always moving mouth clean. "Sky man, we are no threat to you. Would you please have your friends drink. We've done so for you."

Something in that sentence triggered Weyland to compel Fimolov and Etthart to drink.

[Willpower +10% to resist.]

Last Right

[Going to move this along as Horrors are kind of a pain in the ass, lol.]

Herschel's doombolt punched into a pink horror and like usual two blue ones materilaized as the pink one disappeared. However, this time Loki nailed both the blue horrors that immediately sprung up. The armsmen picked up on this and employed that strategy to cut down the rest of the horrors with them causing a cascade of blue horrors.

The hall was clear but Hass didn't take any time to let anyone catch their breath. He kept on marching towards the Enginarium.

As they got closer Herschel could feel and see a strong warp presence. The mist in his minds eye was now a dense fog with ever shifting shapes and shadows. They approached on of the heavy doors leading into the Enginarium.

An armsmen activated the manual override and opened it slowly. What they looked into was a shifting maze of an Enginarium. It split into pieces, folded over on itself, rotated, or shifted positions. It was disorienting.

Hass was about jump feet first into the maze before Belladonna stopped him. "I suggest the navigator and I go alone. Our warp senses will be a better guide then your mundane ones."

DeClasse was more then happy to let someone else go. "I concur captain. Let the demon the psyker deal with this."

[Give me a Forbidden Lore (Warp) +0%.]

Herschel nods at the captains orders and non-chalantly walks into the Enginarium. Sure, it was disorienting and strange. He was more afraid than he let on, but at the same time, he had seen stranger things in his time. He was confident his kinship with the warp would pay off in the end...

Solodice wrote:

Ground Side: Weyland

Scrutiny:

The effects of the drink on Weyland are muted but they still had an effect on him. It wasn't pain or agony that Weyland felt. It was more like he was floating, colors looked brighter, voices sounded crisper and more angelic. It was incredibly euphoric. He tried to decipher was this concoction consisted of but the effects hit him fast leaving his head and mental faculties spinning.

[Muted effects: Weyland is susceptible to manipulation. He needs to make a Willpower +10% test to resist it when it comes up. Any Intelligence and Agility test is at a -10%. Perception tests are at a +10%.]

Alm whipped his always moving mouth clean. "Sky man, we are no threat to you. Would you please have your friends drink. We've done so for you."

Something in that sentence triggered Weyland to compel Fimolov and Etthart to drink.

[Willpower +10% to resist.]

Spoiler:

Weyland felt the effects of the drink attempt to subvert his will. This would be crippling, were he a weaker being. He smiled.

"You are a poor actor. Tell me, how good was my humble offering if only your chin and chest sampled it?" It was a rhetorical question, and the end was emphasized with a deep, resonating rumble as Weyland's voice took on an otherworldly tone.

[Engage fear (2)/stuff of nightmares/disturbing voice]

"You and yours would all drink if you meant to not offend me further."

Spoiler:

He glanced sideways at his compatriots, and with a motion ordered them to upend the Tzeentchified liquid.

Last Right

Herschel stepped forward and so did Belladonna. The two found themselves in a twisting maze of an Enginarium.

"You're the navigator. Lead the way." Belladonna hissed.

[Let's put some of Herschel's intellect to good use. Give me a Scholastic Lore (Occult) +10. On a success it will be a Logic +0 and on a failure a Logic -10.]

Ground Side: Weyland

Villagers and Chief Alm:

All the villagers take a couple giants steps away from Weyland and their mugs shake in their hands. They all look to Chief Alm to say something.

All the while Etthart empties his mug on the ground while Fimolov just dropped it like some piece of trash.

"I don't wish to offend but I'm also not stupid." Chief Alm says as he begins to make a move.

[Roll for initiative!]

Chief Alm:

Etthart:

Fimolov:

Servitors:

Ground Side: Weyland

Weyland saw out the corner of his eye the metal hand of Fimolov. It was shaped into a finger gun and pointing at Chief Alm.

He let his thumb drop. "Bang." Was all he said before the gun servitors turned Alm into a red stain spread out a few meters and on a few people.

[Well combat is over!]

The villagers panicked and fled back to their tents.

"Waste of time." Fimolov muttered.

"I don't think so. Good to know we can confirm what the cognators told us back on Fields of Dust. No one here should be trusted." Etthart said.

"I already trust no one." Fimolov responded.

"Fimolov, that almost hurt my feelings. Round them up. Force them to drink. Then let them retreat to whatever hovels and pits they can escape to." Weyland walked over to the stain that used to be Chief Alm, taking a moment to see if anything of interest remained.

Last Right

Herschel orients himself, observing his surroundings. He was unperturbed by Belladonna's snarky comment. He was in his element and would show her the extent of his capabilities quite shortly, he was sure of it.

"Of course." He smiles and strides forward. A plan was starting to form in his mind...a brilliant one.

rolls:

Last Right

There was a pattern. There always was even if it was small and inconsequential. Herschel spotted it and started to connect the dots quickly. It followed an obscure occult numerology and rhythm in its timing of movements. Without skipping a beat, literally, Herschel began to walk across the moving maze. His steps were precise and on time as he hits a new piece is transported and then gets on another moving block. Belladonna became his shadow and matched his cadence. They passed by tech priests that were huddled together on moving pieces but there was no time to stop and engage them. They even passed by Fordson, the lead tech priest of the ship, at least he was still alive.

To any that were watching Herschel crossed the maze in a casual walk while being flung around every which direction.

Eventually the two of them made it to the center. This is where everything was calm as chaos ragged around them. There stood a man... well what once was probably a man. His shapes and features were mutated and distorted to a severe degree. Tattooed across all his skin was a maze. Two white bird wings twitched from his back. It was a Tzeentch demon.

It's multiple eyes looked at Herschel and Belladonna. Belladonna took up an aggressive stance ready to attack but she seemed to be waiting on Herschel.

"Impressive, mortal, you found the pattern in the chaos, your lord would be proud." It said from some mouth somewhere on its body.

Ground Side: Weyland

Fimolov got the servitors to work dragging the villagers out and made them drink from the casks if they hadn't.

There was nothing left but gore for Weyland to pick through on the ground. Maybe a few bits of flesh he could collect for later sampling but it was slim pickings.

Etthart had other ideas and scouted out around the village with a few servitors. He called in over the vox he found something interesting.

Coming over Weyland could see Etthart standing by a sheer area of rock from the mountain. On it were hieroglyphs and drawings.

"I don't make much out of it. Chaos runes aren't my specialty." He points to some figures though. They are skeletal in nature. "Those though. I suspect those are representations of Necrons. If we can get someone to translate this we might learn more about where to find them more easily and even learn more about them."

Etthart stepped close to Weyland. "I think we killed the only one here that knows how the read them." He didn't present it as criticism but just as a matter of fact.

["Converting" the Tzeentch followers over to Nurgle has gained Weyland +5 Infamy and 400 XP.]

Weyland was pleased. The initial landing had gone more or less as expected. Hostile locals encountered, leadership eliminated, and then turned to the true God of chaos. It was a good start.

Weyland studied the hieroglyphs Etthart had found, giving him a simple "good" for his efforts.

After Fimolov spoke, Weyland replied simply, "He should have done more to prevent his demise. Etthart, gather the locals and bring them here. We will address them all."

Once gathered, Weyland begins. "The time of resistance is over. You saw what it got your 'leader.' And he was lucky in that his death was quick. Further resistance will not be dealt with so leniently. But that should not be an issue, for we are now one, having been given the blessings of Father Nurgle."

Once they understood the score, he continued. "If anyone among you can read this, step forward. Anyone who cannot read it, but understands its meanings step forward. If there are none among you able to do this, one among you will tell us where to find someone who can."

He waited as still as a statue, horns held high above his head, power scythe at his side.

A cape would be a nice touch, he thought absently.

The village was assembled before Weyland. Distant memories clawed at the back of his mind of the time before the Horus Heresy where this would be a common sight during the Great Crusade for him.

The villagers were looking sick with clammy skin, some newly sprouted sores, and glazed eyes. Weyland's gifts were starting to take effect.

They all murmured to one another when Weyland issued his orders. There was an argument that broke out before someone came out victorious and stepped forward.

"We'll tell you who can read those if you help us of whatever you did to us. If not we have no fear of dying here and now. You'll never get your answers and the metal ones will have their way with you." The villager violently coughed but stood his ground.

Last Right

Herschel draws himself up straight, scanning the demon up and down. He had come across these creatures before and did a remarkable job of hiding his apprehension. It was, after all, impossible to predict the actions of a Tzeentch demon - beyond expectations of deceit and sorcerery.

Herschel walks slowly sideways circling the demon.

"Of course. What brings you here, demon? What do you seek?" He smiles, baring his teeth in a disconcerting grin. "Whatever the case, you certainly for make interesting company."

rolls:

New "Followers" wrote:

"We'll tell you who can read those if you help us of whatever you did to us. If not we have no fear of dying here and now. You'll never get your answers and the metal ones will have their way with you." The villager violently coughed but stood his ground.

"I have granted you immortality and blessings beyond what your brains can comprehend, and this is your reaction? Papa Nurgle, forgive them, for they know not what they speak."

Weyland stepped forward, towering over the one so eager to die lest he be "cured." He lifted a power armored hand, the narthecium in plain sight.

"I am a healer. I have healed for ten thousand years. Yet you stand before me, bemoaning the gifts only a cherished few ever get. Alas, I want you to see the truth of the Father."

He beckoned the man come closer, gently moving to begin work on "curing" him. In truth, what was done was done, but Weyland saw no problems in easing the symptoms if it brought them closer to their ultimate goal.

Medicae +40 (skill/talent/diagnosticator helm) <94:

Weyland then took a knee and beckoned others forward, easing their pain, while increasing the love of Papa Nurgle.

Last Right

Scrutiny:

Charm:

"Someone got careless in their navigation of the warp and veered my way. Most of the time I would just send them into a endless current that they'll never escape. This ship though... it has a presence that drew me. Something powerful and ancient." It's eyes narrow at Herschel. "It's presence lingers on you."

Belladonna growled. "Don't tell me your going to try and talk it to death."

"Many have tried before and many have failed." It responded to Belladonna.

Ground Side: Weyland

Weyland eased the pain of conversion for the whole village. He didn't cure them of Nurgle's touch though. They would become new followers whether they liked it or not.

For the plague marine he was gifted with the information he wanted. A two day trip to the north to a place called the Thaw Temple is where he'd find his answers to the heiroglyphs.

Etthart recorded them down on a datapad so they didn't need to travel back. Then Weyland's expedition set off into the cold tundra.

Weyland pushed the crews through the night to make up time he'd be losing on the second letting them rest. It was also during that night that the auxpex operator in Weyland's rhino thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Multiple contacts popped up and then disappeared. He called over Fimolov to make sure it wasn't the auxpex that was malfunctioning. The warpsmith plugged in his MIU into the auxpex console.

Fimolov:

"Weyland, we're being tracked. Size, speed, and low profiles indicate scout bikes. There six of them in total. I don't think these are locals based on what we know and have seen." Fimolov said.

"Can you lock onto the targets? We will treat them as hostiles until proven otherwise. How long until we reach our destination?" He asked the driver finally.

[You're on you last leg of your day 1 journey. Still a whole other day to go until you make it to the Thaw Temple.]

"A whole day, Astartes." The driver said in a tired tone.

"Their low profile make it hard to get a lock on. When we do they go dark breaking the lock." Fimolov responded. "We'll need to get actual eyes on them to track them properly."

"I also warn against thinking these aren't locals. Tech level might vary from tribe to tribe. These might be trackers or hunters." Etthart said giving his opinion on the situation.

"Then let them come. Create a defensive perimeter and prepare for contact."

Weyland would not commit to a day-long chase, especially when it seemed as though they would be easily outmaneuvered by scout vehicles. At the very least, they could get eyes on them.

"We will know sooner or later," Weyland added calmly to end the discussion as to whether these were locals or not.

Solodice wrote:

"Someone got careless in their navigation of the warp and veered my way. Most of the time I would just send them into a endless current that they'll never escape. This ship though... it has a presence that drew me. Something powerful and ancient." It's eyes narrow at Herschel. "It's presence lingers on you."

Belladonna growled. "Don't tell me your going to try and talk it to death."

"Many have tried before and many have failed." It responded to Belladonna.

Herschel feigns a look of mock seriousness.

"Precious little patience from you, Belladonna. Would you prefer I try to fuck them?"

He smiles, turning back towards the demon.

"Yes, I've sensed it too."

Although he hasn't exactly sensed its presence, Herschel is totally convinced that he is an important piece of a much greater scheme...so he decides to just go along with it.

"So what happens next?"

Last Right

"You'll have many holes to choice from." Belladonna shot back at Herschel.

"What happens next is that I can turn this vessel into a never ending maze looking for the source or someone can simply find it for me. Then I'll be gone. Quite simple." The demon said to Herschel.

[Hint time! This presence on Herschel is somewhere he's been before. Also, this demon likes mazes...]

Herschel knew the quite simple part was a lie. No Tzeentch demon ever kept anything simple.

Ground Side: Weyland

The convoy circled the wagons at Weyland's request. The rhinos formed the exterior defenses while the recovery vehicle took up the center. The crews welcomed it as it meant they could get some rest. The servitors didn't need any rest and took up guard postings.

The scout bikes never showed themselves. They seemed to be crafty. That was until Fimolov called over Weyland to a rhino's vox console he was manning. He had intercepted vox traffic. He let Weyland listen in.

"This is Eagle Eye, Overlord, come in."

"Overlord, go ahead Eagle Eye."

"Convoy has stopped. We count 4 rhinos, 1 recovery vehicle, shit tons of servitors, and 2 Astartes among their number."

"Eagle Eye, maintain eyes on them and report back any changes. Hammer and Anvil are on route."

"These don't sound like locals to me. More like Imperial Guard. Very well trained. No Imperial Guard I know of in the Vortex though." Fimolov said offering his opinion.

[Give me a Common Lore (War) +0%.]

Weyland's plan was already changing as he listened to the exchange. Stopping to face the enemy only worked if the enemy planned on engaging. The scouts were clearly not willing to risk that. So, they needed to adapt to the evolving battlefield scenario.

"'Hammer and Anvil' could be an artillery barrage, armor, or air support. Our best defense in any case would be constantly shifting targets. We need to press on. At the very least they won't be able to zero in on a static position."

Weyland gave the order and the column began to move, spread out more now so as not to present a juicy, target of opportunity.

The Atlas vehicle remained in the middle while the Rhinos formed a "wedge" spear head in front and to its sides. In this formation, their pintle-mounted storm bolters could provide overlapping fields of fire.

"Etthart, put out the word to vehicle commanders that we are being tailed by hostiles, potentially Imperial Guard, and to engage if threatened. When we get closer to our destination, I don't want any accidental killings of locals. We may need them."

Herschel steels his gaze as he looks at the demon.

"I know where the source lies. But you'll have to give me a good reason to share it with you."

question:

Last Right

The demon seemed slightly disappointed. "The good reason is that I won't turn your ship into a hulk of pain and misery. Perfect on the outside but a twisted and convoluted mess within that no one will ever escape. I'll personally make sure you aren't around to help either, navigator. If you want compensation I need to know why you'd be worthy of receiving it."

Belladonna stepped closer to Herschel and readied herself for a fight but she waited on Herschel's next action.

Answer:

Ground Side: Weyland

The crews were rudely awakened but when told it was hostiles they got moving.

The convoy moved out as ordered by Weyland and Etthart relayed what and possibly who was after them to the crew commanders.

The hours passed and dawn started to break over the horizon. With it Weyland could see a trailing column of dusts to his left and right. They'd be hard to make out specks for normal human eyes but for Weyland he could make them out in great detail.

5 Chimeras to his right and 3 Leman Russes to his left. They were both a kilometer away and slightly trailing but they had them flanked. Then came the vox message over open channels.

"My badgers and I will happily chase you to the far corners of this world. Let's make it easy for us all. I just want your transports and supplies. You and your men can live for all I care." Said a raspy and monotone voice.

Solodice wrote:

Last Right

The demon seemed slightly disappointed. "The good reason is that I won't turn your ship into a hulk of pain and misery. Perfect on the outside but a twisted and convoluted mess within that no one will ever escape. I'll personally make sure you aren't around to help either, navigator. If you want compensation I need to know why you'd be worthy of receiving it."

Herschel chuckled, feigning utter confidence.

"I'd like to see you try. You want to know why I'd be worthy? I manipulate the very fabric of reality. I twisted a hole in this plane and sent two frigates and corvettes careening into the ether. Our lord has bestowed me with incredible powers of sorcery. And I suggest you stop threatening me, lest I decide to wield those powers against you."

He allows a minute for those words to sink in.

"You see demon, you are now at a crossroads. Our master brought you here for a reason. Join me on a journey toward power and glory greater than your twisted mind can imagine."[/quote]

"They've got us flanked. Three Leman Russ battle tanks to our left, five Chimeras to our right. Unknown number of scouts. Fimolov, Etthart, assessment and plans of action?"

Weyland was keen on what the others would think. Meanwhile, he was formulating his own response. He radioed Fields of Dust.

"Death Guard Weyland, to Fields of Dust. Come in. Our convoy is currently being tailed - 1 kilometre out by enemy armor. 3 units to my south west are Leman Russ battle tanks; south east are 3 chimeras. Confirm visual. Can you send anything to slow their progress? Bombardment would be preferable. Also, send intel on terrain features - anything to help evade and avoid contact, getting us out of the kill zone. Over."

The current plan was to keep moving; Weyland waited for Etthart, Fimolov, and Fields of Dust to respond.

Ground Side: Weyland

Etthart nor Fimolov had much to add. This was Weyland's show for now.

"We read all Plague Marine. We have a small number of Praetorian Battle Servitors with multi-meltas and missile launchers we can load up and deliver but it will take time." Fields of Dust responds to Weyland.

"Our augers indicate an ice field with spires that should make pursuit harder. We'll wait on your order to open for orbital bombardment."

"Just make sure you're clear. Macrocannons are not known for accuracy." This was Captain Khulo speaking over the vox now. "I'll drop rounds on if you want me to but make sure you're ready to die."

[Let's see how good Weyland is at getting good info out and making the crews follow his orders. It will be a Command +20 with Fimolov assisting in coordinating. Having Etthart will let you add +2 DoS on the test failure or success. The more DoS the further you'll be getting away from the pursuers by 1 Km per Dos. The DoS will also determine if you're out of the killzone. 1-2 is still in the killzone, 3-4 is danger close, 5+ is clear of the macrocannon attack.]

"Understood. Load up the Battle Servitors and prep them for launch in the event we can't shake them."

Weyland then spoke directly to the driver of his command vehicle. "Shake these Imperial fools and you'll receive rest and whatever amounts to recuperation on this ice ball in the next village."

While intimidation had its uses, Weyland took a different approach with his crew.

Command 1:

EDIT: The crew responded to Weyland's commands extremely well, putting distance between themselves and their pursuers. He looked at Fimolov and Etthart, nodding in approval... and also preparing them to get ready.

"Khulo, we are prepared for bombardment. Walk the shots in from the rear. Gauge the first salvo against the last and adjust. We have room to drive - and have put some 4 kilometers between us and them. We have time." Weyland then gave the order to Etthart to send word to the convoy on their encrypted channel to maintain speed and maneuvers. It was about to get hot.

Last Right

"You say and boast about all that but you still push your vessel off its current into impending doom. Powerful you are not. Lucky, yes. The eye of the Great Schemer looking down on you, maybe. My threats are not hollow but yours are."

The moving puzzle piece they're on gets surrounded by others. Herschel and Belladonna were now very much trapped with this demon.

The demon seemed disappointed at Herschel's next words. "I'll forgive your arrogance and self proclaimed importance this one time... mortal. I'll ask again. Give me what I seek or suffer the consequences."

Ground Side: Weyland

"You certainly were never an Iron Warrior that's for sure. We'll walk the shots in from the side. Don't want an accidental over shot." Khulo responded.

Next came a great boom from the sky. A projectile breaking the sound barrier and the another as it impacted far off to the right of the trailing enemy armor.

Then there was another. This one on target... well almost. The macrocannon round impacted far closer to Weyland and his convoy then one would want. The resulting shockwave caught the convoy.

It was a ride for dear life but Weyland's rhino never flipped or blew apart. However when the dust slightly cleared there was damage. One rhino was lost along with crew and passenger. Two others were flipped and damaged but crew and passengers safe. The Atlas was surprisingly fine.

The enemy though was replaced by a massive impact crater. The threat was gone.

Fields of Dust voxed in. "If anyone is receiving, our augers can't see through the dust clouds. How'd we do?"

Weyland rose through the hatch and surveyed the scene as status reports filtered back. One Rhino and crew were lost. Three APCs and the Atlas remained. Enemy destroyed. This was a victory.

"Khulo, give our regards to your gunners," Weyland replied stoically, though there was a grin on his face under his helm.

"Fimolov, your skills are most certainly needed here. Take as many servitors as you need and begin repairs on essential systems to any vehicles damaged. Etthart, oversee the Atlas uprighting our flipped vehicles. When that is done, I want to double back an check the enemy for intel, weapons, armor, or ammo. There may not be much left... but then again, Papa Nurgle provides."

Once the vehicles were ready to move again, they would thoroughly check this mystery enemy - these Badgers - and see what, if anything, remained.

Recovery and repairs were underway and feeling a little curious Weyland took his rhino out to the crater. That shell surely took care of all of the hostiles.

The depth of the impact was shallow but the diameter was massive. It easily spanned two kilometers in size. A macrocannon shot was much more a hammer compared to the scalpel of a lance strike. It did the job perfectly though.

Scanning over it Weyland picked out thousands of pieces scattered everywhere. His lenses landed on a mostly intact turret of a Leman Russ. Maybe this would clue him in to who these badgers where.

He moved in closer and dismounted to do a proper visual inspection.

[Common Lore (Imperium) -10% and if that's a success then a Intelligence +0% and on a failure an Intelligence -10%. Additionally, give me Awareness -10%.]

[The lost rhino is just trashed not completely destroyed like the enemy vehicles. You can strip the treads and the storm bolter off the lost rhino. Anything else will take more time like armor plating or the engine.]

Looking over the turret Weyland finds a few markings and a military sigil that were still readable. The markings indicated this Leman Russ was only a few years old. So this unit had relatively new equipment. Either it was a chaos band that got their hands on it or it might of been a recent rogue Imperial Guard group. He couldn't be sure.

As for the sigil it was a short, stubby, furry, four legged creature with an oversized jaw and gritted teeth. It was dressed up in an Imperial Guard flak vest and helmet. He had never seen it before nor did his mind recall any knowledge about it.

Etthart's voice crackled into Weyland's ear. "One rhino recovered. One more to go."

Fimolov then cut in. "The lost rhino I reckon we can strip off treads and its storm bolter in quick succession unless you want it to be completely broken down. That will take a few hours."

With nothing left to see Weyland mounts back up in his rhino. As the rhino reorients to travel back the auxpex operator is in a panic.

"Big signature! Big fucking signature coming right for us!" He screamed.

15 feet in front of the rhino a massive multi segmented metal caterpillar erupted from the ground.



Through the dust it's singular green glowing eye stared at the rhino up and the two rifle like appendages started to crackle with green electricity.

[Roll for Initiative! However for this you'll use your Fellowship bonus instead of Agility to represent Weyland commanding a vehicle.]

Tomb Stalker:

Initiative 12:

Weyland had just finished relaying that the last Rhino should be stripped of essentials and that if they had time on the way back they could reclaim the rest when the auspex operator blurted out their contact.

"All vehicles, evasive maneuvers and engage contact," he ordered. Then turning to Etthart and Fimolov, "I believe that bombardment may have awoken a sleeping giant."