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[DW] Blackthorn and Swordhand

Deathwatch Roleplaying Game RPG Play by Post Commissar Molotov Blackthorn Kill-Team Blackthorn Fantasy Flight Games Kill-Team Swordhand Swordhand

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#1601
Steel Company

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Tyber’s eyes narrowed under his helm at DuRanes as he took a slow and measured approach towards him, his lanky frame holding fast, even if the surprise in his eyes betrayed the confidence he showed outwardly. Stopping just short of the mortal, Tyber removed his helm to regard Locke, making sure that she looked well enough. Turning his attention back to DuRanes, his tone was level, but the threat implied, “Perhaps Captain there was some distortion in the vox communications. As I doubt you would openly defy the inquisition? Let alone weakening the defenses of one of the Emperor’s worlds during an invasion… I’m sure that such an act would be considered treason.”

 

 

Ooc:

 

Intimidate check:

Trained skill;

TN: 73 (STR)

Intimidate: 1d100 44

 

Pass with 2 DoS, if just raw stat


Edited by Steel Company, 12 April 2020 - 08:17 PM.

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To all you Space Wolf Players... Its called a Razor and the Soap isn't a Daemon.
--Dremen


The Iron Hands, they are the real emo marines. Seriously. The Dark Angels aren't the ones who sit around cutting off bits of themselves, wearing black, and complaining about weakness and ennui...

--Octavulg

#1602
Slips

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"Brother Solastion, from what little I know of the Astartes, am I right that you a chirurgeon?" she points at the narthecium and reductor on your wrist.

 

++That I am, Interrogator. Although any aid I can provide at this time will be cursory as we are on a timetable, I will do what I can.++

 

++I am, however, glad to have encountered your group here, for Interrogator Ryken did all but disappear after our arrival and we weren't made aware that there were still active Inquisitorial elements on-world as far as I can remember. Additionally, we have located your Inquisitrix. She is sadly at the side of the Emperor now.++ He responded.

 

He was still wary of the group - it wasn't that hard to take the trappings and equipment of slain inquisitorial members and co-opt them to less-than-loyal purposes without verification, after all.


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#1603
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As Solastion converses Atratus casts his gaze across the maps and notes, committing them to memory and retracing the actions the group had recorded.


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#1604
Commissar Molotov

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The Valshari Valley
Solastion, Atratus, Teralil, Vorr and Varvost

"That I am, Interrogator," Solastion replies, "although any aid I can provide at this time will be cursory-"

"You misunderstand me, Brother Solastion," the Interrogator's tone is clipped, and you get a sense that she perhaps has some aristocratic heritage of her own. She moves to a doorway, perhaps once a bedroom for the farmer who owned this place and his wife. She opens the door - which is small enough that you have to stoop to enter. You see that the bed itself has been turned on its side, moved out of the way. Several rough, lumpen mattresses have been brought into the room and strewn on the floor to provide some measure of comfort - however futile - for the room's new occupant. The folly of mortals - shown even clearer by the fact they have used a sheet to offer some dignity - it shrouds the shape, but cannot truly disguise it for those of you with centuries of familiarity.

Can it be?

Battered, shredded and torn, ruined as one might expect from the torturous conditions - a suit of black power armour, scoured back to bare ceramite in places. The furs of some exotic animal have been singed, torn away, but the runic script carved and engraved into the plates catches the lamplight as you enter. The helm is gone, revealing a gaunt and drawn face that has the waxen pallor of the embalmed.

"We found him washed up on the banks of the Valshari a week ago," Haldane's voice continues, though the words seem to lose their meaning as you focus on what you see before you.

Returned from death like the mythical heroes of one of his peoples' sagas, Thorvald Hammerhand, the Twice-Sworn, warrior of Fenris and the Sixth Legion of Old.
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1605
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++By Sanguinius and The Emperor, you have found Brother Thorvald?!++ Exclaims the large marine as he hurriedly - while trying not to trample the mortals - makes his way to the side of the marine and begins interfacing with the Marines armor, drawing up diagnostic information as he goes along.

 

++Tell me everything, Interrogator; I wish to know what state he was in when you found him after his Orbital Re-Entry.++ He asked as the his nartheciums cogitator started feeding him the relevant data; he was looking primarily for Sus-An activation or whether there were any life-signs at all.


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#1606
Commissar Molotov

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Vinov: A World of Death
(Akkad, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng)

"This is Magos Erlan," Ryken says, indicating the Tech-Priest with an outstretched arm. The Tech-Priest raises two bionic arms - the most human-looking of his appengadges and his fingers interlace to make the Sign of the Cog. As he speaks, his words are underlaid with a blast of binaric cant that sounds to your ears like static.

"Omnissiah be praised; we are delivered. Enter and take shelter from the storm."

"You are not injured?" Ryken asks, observing you as you walk. "Our vox-thieves and pict-captors paint a grim picture of the surface."

You enter a chamber that underscores the Interrogator's walls. Its walls are filled with pict-slates of every possible size and configuration. Many of these depict scenes from the surface. Others show reams upon reams of raw data, endless lines of text representing the collation and analysis of the vast amounts of information being collected from across the blighted surface of Vinov. You see at least a dozen lesser tech-priests and a score of menials all working at clattering cogitator stations.

"After you slew the Broodlord and scattered the cult I made my way here to Vinov. The arrival of the Hive Fleet was an inevitability; the arrival of Imperial reinforcements was not. We needed a weapon that could turn the tide of the war. The Mechanicus has always had a small but significant presence on Syndalla; their Magi Biologis have been heavily involved in creating fast-growing, disease-resistant crops to fulfil the tithe. I believed that they might be able to put their expertise to some use."

The Magos takes over at this pause in the conversation.

"Imperial resistance has been overrun and many of the Tyranid beasts have entered a semi-dormant state. Any lingering pockets of resistance are being steadily eradicated. Most biological life has been rendered down and added to the digestion pools located across the planetary surface. The Hive ship itself has descended into the atmosphere and the planet is entering the final stages of consumption. The subsoil is being mined for every last mineral and nutrient. Soon, the oceans will be siphoned off and the atmosphere will be stolen."

One of the pict-screens displays a map of Vinov, with targeting reticules displaying the digestion pools. Another shows a vid-feed from the planetary surface, looking up through the sickly green fog that passes for atmosphere on the planet now. Through the murk and the static, you can make out the Tyranid Hive Ship itself. For those of you in Kill-Team Swordhand, your memories of the hated bio-ship are still as fresh as ever.

"We have a chance, now," Ryken takes up again. In his gloved hand, he holds a silver-and-glass canister, a lurid green liquid swirling inside. "The Magos has synthesised a toxin that, once introduced into one of the digestion pools, shall be transferred into the genome of the Hive Ship above. It will weaken the beast, laying waste to its defenders and paving the way for you to kill the creature from the inside."

++++

The Valshari Valley
(Solastion, Atratus, Teralil, Varvost and Vorr)

As you kneel down beside Thorvald's fallen form, your narthecium's cogitator comes to life. The Space Wolf's twin hearts pulse, although the beat is glacially slow. The instincts you have honed over your centuries of service as an Apothecary have proven true; his body's functions are suspended , the Sus-an Membrane sustaining him despite the trauma his transhuman physiology has sustained and endured.

"As I said, we found him at the edge of the river," the Interrogator continues. "It took eight men to carry him back here. We knew he was injured, but did not know how to help him."

Thorvald will live, though he will require chemical therapy aboard the Xenocide in order to be restored.

++++

Imperial Cruiser 'King of Kings'
(Tyber)

"My lord..." DuRanes begins, swallowing as he attempts to control the situation. "My orders come from the Admirals of the Battlefleet themselves. You speak of weakening the defenses of this planet - Captain Locke is compromising the whole sector by refusing to follow her orders."
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1607
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Teralil moves over to the Space Wolf and looks him over, running his hand over the beaten and damaged armour. 

 

"You poor, poor thing. Just what have they done to you?"

 

Wryly, the thought that the most egregious of the barbarism swathing the Wolf had been scoured away passes his mind, but he banishes it with a grimace. This was not the place for such thoughts.

 

Turning to the Interrogator, he gestures back to the warrior on the slab.

 

"His helm. Was it recovered?"


Edited by Morovir, 17 April 2020 - 08:58 PM.

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ETL_2015_Banner_03d_Primus_Inter_Pares.jETL_2016_Banner_04_Primus_Inter_Pares.jp


#1608
Commissar Molotov

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GM: Atratus previously recovered Thorvald's helm in this post, but was unable to find any other trace of him. If Teralil chooses to do any analysis of the suit's telemetry or the like you will be able to discern that Thorvald fell from the drop ship into water, which broke his fall and prevented him from dying on landing.


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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1609
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Tyber makes a low noise at the mortal before him, as he stated in a measured tone, “Does the entire sector face an immediate invasion? Or are you trying to tell me that Battle fleet command supersedes the Inquisition?”

 

Balling his fists slowly, yet deliberately while positioning himself between the Navy troopers and Locke, he continued, “We know for a fact that the Great Devourer is on their way here right now. The ship that brought my kill team here was lost to them, my brothers from the Xenocide engaged their fleet assets in system, Locke and her assets here engaged them.  Yet you dare to tell me that you have the right to defy those that serve the Inquisition when they call on you?”

 

Taking a moment to clear his mind, he stated one last thing, not even bothering to veil the threat in his words, “Mark my words Captain, you may take Locke and your ship once we are done with the current threat, try to take either of them now and it will end badly for you.”


Edited by Steel Company, 16 April 2020 - 09:00 PM.

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To all you Space Wolf Players... Its called a Razor and the Soap isn't a Daemon.
--Dremen


The Iron Hands, they are the real emo marines. Seriously. The Dark Angels aren't the ones who sit around cutting off bits of themselves, wearing black, and complaining about weakness and ennui...

--Octavulg

#1610
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WAVING YENG AWAY, Greysight stalks towards the interrogator, uninterested in the magos and his bio-weapon. A soft hiss issues from the Storm Son's black helmet as Greysight takes it off, mag locking it to his armour in a single fluid motion.

He squints. 'A brother of the Emperor's Deathwatch is oathed to the service of the Ordos,' Greysight begins. His voice has no warmth to it. 'Even if they hold the rank of interrogator. You may move where it pleases you, but bonds of war are built on some measure of trust. I trust my war-brothers, for they have proven themselves to me. You have not. I have spent considerable time and resource to locate you in this forsaken waste, away from where we are needed most.'

The Storm Son aims his boltgun at Ryken. Magos Erlan snaps his head to face the astartes, but otherwise makes no other movement. The others stare in mild surprise.

'You have precisely five heartbeats to convince me your mind is not poisoned by the Great Devourer; otherwise, I will kill you where you stand.'

Edited by Nineswords, 17 April 2020 - 08:02 PM.

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+++

'We are the sword of Jaghatai. Had you not created great sins, the Emperor would not have sent a punishment like us upon you.'

 Index Astartes: Storm Sons
+++

‘We estrange our fathers and forsake false brotherhoods. The War God cares not from whence we came, only that we fight.’
The Unbroken: A Renegade Cult of Obliteration

+++


#1611
Slips

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"His helm. Was it recovered?"

++It was; Brother Atratus was the one to have successfully tracked it down.++ Content - as much as he could be - at the confirmation that the Fenrisian was indeed in suspended animation, he stood up from his kneeling position.

 

++You have our thanks, Interrogator. There's nothing I can do for him now, however. I require access to the Apothecarium aboard the Xenocide to rouse him from his slumber.++

 

++For now, our next move is to exfiltrate and make our way back to Beregar city, Interrogator, for our primary reason for being in the area is the planting of charges with the intent to destroy the Dam and your hideout is found within the affectable area.++

 

Swapping over to the squads in-helmet coms, he informed the rest of his assembled brothers of the situation:

++Brothers, the Interrogator here has recovered Brother Thorvald and I can confirm that he yet lives in a sus-an trance. We will not abandon him here as such transporting him back to Beregar will slow us down. Additionally, the would-be Inquisitrix is to accompany us as well which will undoubtably slow us further. It seems unlikely that we would be able to reqesition a Valkyrie for exfiltration given the current circumstances.++

 

++Make ready for departure, Brothers, we leave at earliest convenience. I shall transport Brother Thorvald.++


Edited by Slips, 17 April 2020 - 06:36 PM.

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#1612
Commissar Molotov

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Vinov: A World of Death
(Akkad, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng)

The Interrogator turns, the glass vial still in his hands, to face Greysight. The yawning black gulf of the bolter's muzzle seems to be reflected in what you can see of his eyes.

"This is a potent and valuable weapon, crafted and honed by the Magos to exploit one of the bio-beast's few weaknesses. If we use it properly, it will inflict a great and terrible wound upon the enemy, allowing us to slay it from within. If we do not, our opportunity will be lost and Syndalla will fall. The destruction wrought here upon Vinov will be visited upon Beregar city and not a single crop will ever grow upon that planet. Not a single child will ever grow old. Your sacrifices will have been for nought."

Ryken gestures to you with the vial, the green liquid swirling within.

"You are much the same. You are a weapon of unimaginable strength, crafted by the greatest minds this Imperium has ever seen and tasked with its protection. But a weapon must be wielded correctly, or it will never strike true. Ask your Swordhand brethren, those who fought within the bio-beast itself and were unable to inflict a telling blow. I have drawn you here as a warrior draws a sword from his scabbard. I have aimed you at the enemy and I will thrust you in to the hilt if that is what is required to ensure the continued dominion of Man."

He places the vial on the table beside him before turning back to Greysight.

"You need not like me; you need not trust me. I care little for your opinion either way. But you will abide by your oaths and do as I command, or we will all die."


The Valshari Valley
(Solastion, Atratus, Teralil, Vorr and Varvost)

GM: The charges on the Valshari Dam are armed and set - they will detonate in less than two hours, adding an urgency to your tasks.

Solastion and Teralil, between them, are able to manoeuvre the Space Wolf's prostrate form through the farmhouse, the Techmarine offering a muttered prayer of obesience to his armour's machine spirits as it bangs off the door frame.

++It would've been easier to just take the wall out,++ Varvost voxes.

For her part, Haldane shouts orders at the mortals occupying the farmhouse. Hurriedly, sheets of paper and maps are torn down from the walls and stuffed into boxes.

Outside, the Inquisitorial agents open the double-doors to another wooden building, a barn of some sort. A heavy sheet is pulled aside and you can see the bulk of a massive cargo-conveyor, a twelve-wheeled vehicle with a flat-bed (GM: a grimdark version of this combined with a Taurox )

"From the sound of it, Brother Solastion," the Interrogator says, "we should leave as soon as possible."


Imperial Cruiser 'King of Kings'
(Tyber)

There is a moment of silence on the bridge as DuRanes considers his options. The armsmen shift nervously as they wait for some signal as to what to do.

"If that is your wish," the words grind grudgingly out of the Captain's mouth, "the Adamant shall withdraw and I shall inform the Battlefleet Command how insistent you have been."

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 18 April 2020 - 12:13 PM.

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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1613
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Tyber sighs heavily, before he speaks, “It would seem Captain…”

 

Pausing half way through to grip DuRanes by the neck before crushing it, he added, “That you did not understand what I meant.”

 

Tossing the body to the floor, he turned to the armsmen, in a commanding tone he spoke to them, “Bring me both the executive and third officers from the Adamant, it would seem I need to explain to them the current situation. Tell them only that the Inquisition calls on them to do their duty to the Throne.”

 

As the men hurried out of the room, Tyber turned his attention to Locke, “I need you, I didn’t need him. Do not make me regret this action.”


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To all you Space Wolf Players... Its called a Razor and the Soap isn't a Daemon.
--Dremen


The Iron Hands, they are the real emo marines. Seriously. The Dark Angels aren't the ones who sit around cutting off bits of themselves, wearing black, and complaining about weakness and ennui...

--Octavulg

#1614
Commissar Molotov

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Imperial Cruiser 'King of Kings'
(Tyber)

There is a gargled cry of shock and surprise as DuRanes attempts to process what is happening, even as your gauntleted fist crushes his windpipe with ease. His crumpled body clatters to the deck; his eyes blink once, twice, as his oxygen-starved brain attempts to regain control over his body, and then he is dead.

Some of the armsmen raise their weapons hesitantly at the Deathwatch Marine, as though contemplating how to extend their lifespan by a few precious seconds; others look as though they are about to be sick. At your imperious command, one of their number steps forward and salutes. "Y-yes, sir! I mean, my lord! Yes!"

Locke nods at you as the armsmen leave the bridge.

"The Battlefleet Command ordered our withdrawal two weeks ago. I chose to ignore those orders for the good of the people on that world, Brother Tyber. I chose to risk my rank, my crew and my life in this defense. We both have much to lose here."

She turns to one of the menials crewing a station.

"Get that body off my ship."

GM: I'm happy to draw this scene to a close. We can assume that one of the officers aboard the Adamant will acquiesce to your commands and they will be added to the orbital defense. What does Tyber do next?
 
QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1615
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Atratus silently chastises himself at not locating Thorvald earlier but there was no time here for what had passed or might be. "I advise reconnaissance, if the terrain becomes impassible we will not have time to double back."


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#1616
Steel Company

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Seeing the new captain of the Adamant off, Tyber turned to Locke as he spoke, “I have thought on what you said, about the risks you took for this world and to help my team,  before I leave this ship I will give you a recommendation letter to my Chapter’s home fleet. I know we are always looking for talented officers for our fleet and I have a feeling that Battlefleet command will punish you for doing the right thing…”

 

Pausing to roll his helmet to face him and rubbing the symbol in the center of the forehead he continued, “This way Locke, you will have an option, I would hate to see such talent lost due to short shortsightedness of those only concerned about their own hides.”

 

+++++

 

The flight back to the world had been quite, Tyber grimaced to himself as he tried to figure out how to explain to Solastion what he had done, he knew that the Son of the Ninth was both forgiving and harsh with actions of others. Looking out the window at the world from above, Tyber spoke to himself more than the crew of the lander, “This world seems so small from up here.”


Edited by Steel Company, 18 April 2020 - 03:33 PM.

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To all you Space Wolf Players... Its called a Razor and the Soap isn't a Daemon.
--Dremen


The Iron Hands, they are the real emo marines. Seriously. The Dark Angels aren't the ones who sit around cutting off bits of themselves, wearing black, and complaining about weakness and ennui...

--Octavulg

#1617
Commissar Molotov

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GM:

If Atratus wishes to scout the roads out of this farmstead and towards the city, he can do a Navigation (Surface) test or a Tracking test. I'm happy for the test to be at a +20 if Varvost assists you.

 
QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1618
Slips

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"I advise reconnaissance, if the terrain becomes impassible we will not have time to double back." 

 

++That would be most prudent, Brother Atratus. You may take Brother Varvost with you to aid you. Should you encounter any...opposition...I leave it at your discretion on engagement.++ as he silently - to the mortals - nods in the direction of Brother Atratus.

 

++Very astute, Interrogator; indeed time is of the essence.++

he responds as he gingerly loads Brother Thorvald into the cargo-transplacer's bed with the aid of Brother Teralil; the suspension of the vehicle noticeably buckling under their collective weight.


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#1619
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Atratus leaves immediately, indicating his intent to Varvost with a more of his hand though he knew the later would already be moving in response to Solastions words.

 

Navigation: 49 (pass with one extra DoS)


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#1620
Commissar Molotov

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The Valshari Valley
(Atratus and Varvost)

Your jump packs propel you through the night air, allowing you to bound easily through overgrown fields choked with unharvested crops. The aerial view of the landscape afforded to you allows you to spot collapsed bridges and abandoned farming vehicles blocking roadways. It is trivial enough for you to overlay topographical maps over your helm displays and chart a route that will enable to the convoy to reach Beregar City itself.
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1621
Nineswords

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Greysight feels the eyes of his brothers bore into him. Ryken's rhetoric and obvious logic sting him more than he cares to admit. He recalls a Chogorian proverb; sometimes you lose a forest through the trees. The Storm Son did not agree with the wiry Interrogator's methods or manner, but he had a point. 

 
Slowly, Greysight lowers his bolt gun. He bows deeply towards the interrogator and his magos companion in supplication, moving to the back of the group, brooding.

Edited by Nineswords, 21 April 2020 - 03:41 PM.

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+++

'We are the sword of Jaghatai. Had you not created great sins, the Emperor would not have sent a punishment like us upon you.'

 Index Astartes: Storm Sons
+++

‘We estrange our fathers and forsake false brotherhoods. The War God cares not from whence we came, only that we fight.’
The Unbroken: A Renegade Cult of Obliteration

+++


#1622
Slips

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++Interrogator, enlighten me on your current situational awareness reagarding the current events of Syndalla - I will do what I can to fill in the gaps and bring you up to speed with recent developments.++ Questions the Sanguinary Priest as he continues performing routine diagnostic checks on Brother Thorvald alongside Brother Teralil as they started making their way through the forest in the cargo-bed of the vehicle they were on.


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#1623
Mazer Rackham

Mazer Rackham

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Akkad paused for a single heartbeat as Ryken's words slapped over Greysight's face and huffed a short laugh in the Interrogator's direction.  He unsnapped the Inquisitorial rosette from his waist and tossed it to Ryken in a gentle cast.  The Interrogator caught it in his cupped hands and his brows formed a line of distaste, perhaps for Akkad's lack of reverence.

 

+Your pardon, Interrogator of course,+ he stepped over to the table and carefully lifted the vial of mutagen, turning it in the light, the dull gloom catching the chastened silver and bare metal of the case.  Lurid emerald, so similar in hue to the Badabian Vertanese lenses of his helm, trembled faintly as the room around them vibrated under the assault of the bio-titan's hooves above them, even though the monstrous beast was many kilometres distant.

 

Akkad stared at it, thinking of other such phials, those loaded into the precious Deathwatch muntions.

 

+Magos, can this...poison be loaded into a bolt shell, like a Hellfire round?+

 

Question asked, his helm canted, searching for Greysight, who moved to lurk at the back of the group, under the cloak of a dark mien.  Agreement rolled off Akkad's poise and he inclined his head to the Son of Nakaris.  He trusted the keen instincts of the Hunter and most certainly not the words of the Inquisition.

 

Cadence was locked to his back, but the butt of his holstered Bolt Pistol, Sonnet, rested under his right palm.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 21 April 2020 - 05:39 PM.

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#1624
Commissar Molotov

Commissar Molotov

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Vinov: A World of Death
(Akkad, Ghent, Greysight and Yeng)

With the tension in the room broken, and Greysight appearing to acquiesce to the Interrogator, the Magos steps forward to answer Akkad's questions. The robed frame of the Tech-Adept is swathed in mechanical arms that appear to move with independent thought and motion. It seems almost as though he is surrounded by metallic eels or snakes, writhing and chattering.

"It is conceivable that such a task could be conducted. However, it is unclear whether a sufficient quantity of the toxin could be conveyed in such a manner, even with a weapon such as yours." Two of his mechadendrites genuflect in respect towards the mighty war-spirit of Akkad's heavy bolter.

At some unspoken mind-impulse, a servitor lurches forward, bearing in both arms a large, heavy cylinder fitted with a carrying handle and a control panel on its side. The metal canister is adorned with blessings to the Machine-God and triangular warning signs promising certain death to any who open it.

"This device is calculated as the optimal method of delivery. Depositing it within the digestion pool itself will ensure a sufficient quantity of the toxin is delivered into the Tyranid vessel's circulatory system." Stabbing mechadendrites punctuate his speech as he continues: "You will be required to lift this panel here and strike the rune of armament in order to ensure the device is primed."

The objective, then, is clear: several of the screens lining the wall indicate the nearest digestion pool, sitting in the middle of a threaded network of veins and capillary towers like a spider at the centre of a web. Traversing the blasted wastes of Vinov to reach it whilst avoiding any Tyranid forces would, you estimate, take approximately ten hours. Calling in Sabaan and the Storm Raven Spearcast could enable you to reach the pool within half of an hour, but would be considerably more conspicuous.

The Valshari Valley
(Solastion, Atratus, Vorr, Varvost and Teralil... and Thorvald!)

With a nod, Haldane relays her story - that she and the agents within the farmstead had accompanied Inquisitor Lythea to Syndalla, following the first leads regarding inconsistencies in the birthrate and other such suspicious signs. Her mistress had ordered the Interrogator to hold position at the farmstead and await reinforcements.

"We are fortunate indeed that the Deathwatch answered our call."
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1625
Slips

Slips

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++It is fortunate indeed that Interrogator Rhyken was able to make his way back to our Watch Station and appraise us of the situation. However, I will mention that, while we were successful in slaying the Cults Broodlord, your Inquisitor did not survive her encounter with the Xenoform and have since recovered her Rosette.++ He responds.


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