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Game Master
(e1savel)
2/28/2012 1:55:11 PM
PostID: 418731
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You awaken to a vast wailing sound. It takes you a few minutes to realize that the wailing is in your head. Memories swarm in, confusing and dreamlike. When your eyes open, you find yourself naked and partially submerged in a tub of warm liquid, a tech priest hovering over you.
There is little to differentiate the priest from the surrounding room, for he is physically connected to the walls and ceiling by a host of tubes and servo arms. More machine than man, his face is lost beneath optical implants and the black grill of a vox caster. His medicae dendrites sweep across your flesh, pricking you, testing your reflexes, and administering injections.
When he speaks, it is in a low, mechanical growl. “Greetings, acolyte. By the grace of the Omnissiah, you have survived cryptobiotic stasis for eighty eight standard days. Do not attempt any sudden movement; you are being drained of cryoprotectants. You are currently on the Barge of Seven Promises, a Black Ship in service to the Astra Telepathica. I am Magos Biologis Cordandum. Nod your head if my voice registers.”
He does not wait for your response, but instead, moves on to deliver the same missive to the others. The wailing in your head continues, unabated.
“You may notice some discomfort,” says Cordandum. “You were put in cryptobiotic stasis to protect you from the ravages of mind witches and other psychic mutants. Few can survive on a Black Ship without sufficient mental conditioning. I will now administer some tests to determine if you are suffering from any physical or mental aberrations.”
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Game Master
(e1savel)
2/28/2012 2:17:44 PM
PostID: 418732
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After a long and painful series of scans, physical manipulations, and blood letting, during which the names of various Imperial saints are read to you by a chorus of audio servitors, Cordandum concludes his tests and allows you to get dressed.
"Analysis shows no exceptional aberrations. However, several of the psychic wards may not have functioned properly during Warp travel. The exact consequence of this is unknown; one of you may have been improperly shielded. Please report back to medical bay if you experience any cognitive aberrations. You will now be released for duty. May the Omnissiah protect you."
This post last edited on 2/28/2012 4:31:38 PM
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Vladimir Monomakh
(Shoktopus)
2/28/2012 11:09:21 PM
PostID: 418757
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Where am I supposed to report? And improperly shielded?
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Game Master
(e1savel)
2/29/2012 8:20:55 AM
PostID: 418765
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"Your mind is still active in cryptobiotic stasis. Without proper shielding, you may have had inadvertent psychic contact. A witch can reach out to you through your dreams. Even now, you are doubtlessly feeling the sorrow of ten thousand psychic prisoners."
Cordadnum summons a pair of storm troopers from the hall. They stand fully armed and armored.
"These men have been awaiting your revival and will take you to the astropath, Serapti Anaja."
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Markus Blackletter
(Markus1988)
2/29/2012 8:55:21 PM
PostID: 418801
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Markus is ever alert. The violent conditions of his homeworld trained his body to shake off grogginess faster then most men. We'll, at least sometimes.
He didn't bother asking about the possible psychic attack. If it happened he goes to sick bay, if not then it's someone elses problem. With his uniform and flak armor on he stepped up too Cordadnum. "Rest of my gear?" He asked.
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Game Master
(e1savel)
3/1/2012 12:48:25 PM
PostID: 418833
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"Your gear has been placed in the armory," says one of the storm troopers. "You'll be equipped when you deploy. Right now, the astropath is waiting."
"This area is reserved for the sick and injured, or those under autopsy," says Cordandum, as though seeing you for the first time. "All non-patients must vacate the medicae facilities immediately."
Without another word, the storm troopers lead you out into the depths of the ship. The corridors are narrow and intermittently lit. Incense burns in ornate sconces and gilded servo skulls flit overhead, trailing parchment and purity seals behind them. The wailing takes on a less ethereal quality; if you run your hand along the walls, you can feel them vibrating with it.
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Game Master
(e1savel)
3/5/2012 4:59:41 PM
PostID: 419028
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You come to a hallway lined with other storm troopers, their black armor rendering them near-invisible in the gloom. Your guides begin speaking in High Gothic and trade writs with the door guards. You can hear organ music playing just beyond.
Finally, the doors open and you are led into a cavernous room of alabaster stone. It almost looks like a cathedral, but instead of pews and an oratory stand, there are rows and rows of vats filled with murky green fluid. Men and women float within them, anchored by their life support systems. Needle-like probes extend into their spinal columns. They twist and sway gently, almost as if dancing. Occasionally, one of them spasms violently. At the far end of the room, an adept plays some kind of dirge on a monstrous pipe organ.
"Ah, acolytes, welcome," comes a friendly voice.
Your superior, Serapti Anaja, steps forth. Though likely well into her fifties, she is still an attractive woman, full figured and slender, her blonde softly transitioning to gray. Her gaze invites friendliness, but carries the edge of a hardened commissar.
Within seconds of her approach, you feel that something is inherently wrong. The walls themselves move with shadows that aren't possible and voices of an unspeakable nature whisper at you, almost inaudibly. Yet, Serapti just stands there, a calm oasis within a dark and foreboding tempest of energy.
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calxis dabousiv
(deathwinga)
3/7/2012 8:04:52 PM
PostID: 419108
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out of the darkness a wiry guard stands stoic in a charcoal gray uniform. his weathered an scared face unmoving as his blue optics shift an click as they focus on the acolytes. 11in in liberty spikes are striped gray an white stand like spears atop his head.
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Markus Blackletter
(Markus1988)
3/8/2012 3:09:07 PM
PostID: 419145
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Markus stands still infront of Serapti. Keeping his eyes on her. His face was mostly blank, except for his squinting. Even growing up with the sense of immpending evil one never really gets used to it.
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Serapti Anja
(e1savel)
3/10/2012 4:57:24 PM
PostID: 419246
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She leads you to a grouping of small tables, which hold several platters of steaming mash and pitchers of wine.
"Please, help yourselves. We still have a few hours before we make planetfall. It was Zampano's will that you be put into cryptobiotic stasis; the chambers are of an experimental design. I think he may have owed Cordandum a favor. Regardless, I'm gratified to see that nothing went wrong."
The organist ceases playing abruptly as Serapti sits down to eat. He, along with several other acolytes in the room, depart, leaving your party alone, save for the people suspended in the vats. They continue to sway and twitch.
This post last edited on 3/10/2012 5:01:20 PM
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calxis dabousiv
(deathwinga)
3/11/2012 11:51:12 AM
PostID: 419275
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calxis sits down sniffs the food an then digs in like a starving lunatic.
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Narl Darroth
(channelboy)
3/12/2012 12:49:41 PM
PostID: 419323
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It must have been about 97 days since Narl was pulled of that remote ice planet for yet another training exercise but he could still feel the effects of his nearly frost bitten fingers and toes. Slowly swinging his leg over the edge of his stasis pod to a seated position, the young assassin tried fervorishly to work the blood back to his into his hands. *fuck my life, do they have to keep this tin can so damn cold?* "hey buddy! Yeah you priest! Think we can turn the heat up in this bitch?" knowing his question would go unanswered Narl slid his feet down to the deck with a sudden and sharp thud. Tossing more curses at the priest under his breath Narl proceeded with dressing and then he made his way out to where everyone else was waiting. Quietly placing his back against the bulkhead Narl begin the steps tought to him from day one; *ok where is my escape routes, where can the enemy come from, places to hide, what tools do I have, what can I use if need be.* Now looking everyone over, weighing them, *who is my biggest threat? What would I do if...*
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Markus Blackletter
(Markus1988)
3/15/2012 3:28:32 PM
PostID: 419461
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Markus digs into his food useing his index and middle finger. Every once in a while he would scan his eyes over the area, not really looking for anything, just curious. As far as a feral worlder goes he had excelent talbe manners. He didn't slurp or gulp real loud and even wiped his mouth with his hand. When the food was gone he poured himself some wine.
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calxis dabousiv
(deathwinga)
3/15/2012 10:14:17 PM
PostID: 419504
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calxis belches loud an picks through his teeth "last time i had a meal this good..." he zones out his face stones up an his optics stop ticking then he shakes it off "lets just say emperor protects... so who are you freshers?"
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Narl Darroth
(channelboy)
3/24/2012 7:05:18 PM
PostID: 419809
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Pushing off the wall with a hint of boyish energy, "name's Narl, how how's bout you toss me a bowl of that slop? Man I enjoy these rides but I sure do miss the sweet smell of some fresh air and the feel of a hot sun on my back! What bout you old times?" Grinning ear to ear.
This post last edited on 3/24/2012 7:06:12 PM
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calxis dabousiv
(deathwinga)
3/25/2012 12:33:02 PM
PostID: 419822
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calxis slides over a bowl, the contents not even moving. "now that's fine grade starch right there soft as bread, hard as plascreet." a grin crosses his weathered face "calxis but people call me gramps; an nothing better than a proper hab unit an chem globe to light your way.
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Markus Blackletter
(Markus1988)
3/31/2012 9:39:26 PM
PostID: 420185
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Markus took a swig of his wine and paused a bit before speaking. "Don' get much light where I'm from." He finished the glass then poured another. "Markus, by the way."
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calxis dabousiv
(deathwinga)
4/1/2012 9:43:31 AM
PostID: 420197
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"so my lady whats the butchers bill for the emperor this time? daemons, heretics, witches, xenos skum.... rouge astrites?" calixs starts to laugh at his last statement "like they exist" an takes a swig from a flask.
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Serapti Anja
(e1savel)
4/4/2012 2:23:42 PM
PostID: 420373
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Serapti looks up from her food, which she seems to have only barely touched. She pours herself another glass of wine. "The Barge of Seven Promises is already in orbit over Mentis V. Very soon, we will be given clearance to make planetfall, at which time, the Astra Telepathica will begin their collection of the psychic tithe. Assuming the Consulate has done its job, the proceedings should be smooth and orderly. There is likely to be great unrest on the planet, however; many of the colonists have forgotten their debt to the Emperor. Our goal is to slip through without notice and make our way to the Basilica. Inquisitor Zampano has arranged for us to meet the tarot reader, Farseil."
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calxis dabousiv
(deathwinga)
4/4/2012 3:55:54 PM
PostID: 420376
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calxis ponders on the words of lady anja... "witches an heretics sounds like were gona need the emperor's light for this one"
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