tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44949938406916906232024-03-14T09:13:57.676+00:00Dangerous Brian: A Gamers BlogBeing a chronicle of my experiences in the murky world of "old school" roleplaying, wargaming
and Miniature Painting. Likely to feature games of Dungeons and Dragons, Tomorrow's War, OSRIC,
Harnmaster, Warhammer Ancients, Retinue and All Things Zombie.Dangerous Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11494853825931603065noreply@blogger.comBlogger261125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-26692482529991769792015-04-06T06:46:00.000+00:002015-04-06T06:47:52.678+00:00No Mean City Session 1.1 "National Express"<span style="font-size: large;">Session 1.1 THE NATIONAL EXPRESS</span><i> Take the National Express when your life's in a mess<br /> It'll make you smile<br /> All human life is here<br /> From the feeble old dear to the screaming child<br /> From the student who knows that to have one of those<br /> Would be suicide<br /> To the family man<br /> Manhandling the pram with paternal pride<br /> And everybody sings 'ba ba ba da'<br /> We're going where the air is free<br /><br /> On the National Express there's a jolly hostess<br /> Selling crisps and tea<br /> She'll provide you with drinks and theatrical winks<br /> For a sky-high fee<br /> Mini-skirts were in style when she danced down the aisle<br /> Back in '63 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)<br /> But it's hard to get by when her arse is the size<br /> Of a small country<br /> And everybody sings 'ba ba ba da'<br /> We're going where the air is free<br /> Tomorrow belongs to me<br /><br /> When you're sad and feeling blue<br /> With nothing better to do<br /> Don't just sit there feeling stressed<br /> Take a trip on the National Express, the National Express, let's go.</i><br />
<br />
-National Express, The Divine Comedy, <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfPh1YUlW0kXSwgbqufqqNXeJJXPOPHa4TnubcyjA3h7eGETpqsphQIxVfMyYXKHN3ckWIE01yR1YBdRECF6t0qswusLP2AIMZUq61cuM1PLaBKG6EA1PFzvPhkCH5IOEO_BSu8d6bQ0/s1600/Tia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfPh1YUlW0kXSwgbqufqqNXeJJXPOPHa4TnubcyjA3h7eGETpqsphQIxVfMyYXKHN3ckWIE01yR1YBdRECF6t0qswusLP2AIMZUq61cuM1PLaBKG6EA1PFzvPhkCH5IOEO_BSu8d6bQ0/s1600/Tia.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tia Dafydd</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Session 1.1 "National Express"<br />
<br />
Late Evening, Sept 3rd 2014. London Victoria Bus Station<br />
<br />
Diesel fume stink and the babbling hubbub of six or seven hundred tired, hungry people fill the air of the bus station punctuated only by the rumbling of over-worked bus engines while vehicle after vehicle disgorges it human cargo onto the dirty asphalt of London Victoria Station. A petite goth girl with hulk-green dreads stands at the London to Glasgow stance, dressed in casual looking black joggy bottoms and an Anthrax hoodie. She's got a small overnight bag over one shoulder, a simple canvas number decorated with band patches and a hello-kitty plush keyring. Hello-kitty has had one eye blacked out with a marker pen, to give her a piratical touch.<br />
<br />
Standing next to her is a bubbly looking girl, just as pretty but in a “girl next door” sort of way. She's helping the goth looking girl settle a huge, baroque looking clothes trunk onto the asphalt next to the bus stance. Looking at them, most folks wouldn't be surprised to learn that the green dread-locked girl was a Baroque dancer. The same people would no doubt be shocked to learn that the bubbly looking girl in the jeans and blue top was a dancer too.<br />
<br />
Tia Ferch Dafydd turns to her black-garbed friend and enfolds her in a war embrace. When she speaks, it's with a beautifully musical Welsh accent.<br />
<br />
“Aww. I'm really going to miss you, you know that Becca. It's not often you meet another a dancer whose not, you know, an ego-driven maniacal monster.”<br />
<br />
Becca Adams, otherwise known by the stage name “Threnody Noir” embraces the girl fondly, rubbing a hand up and down her back.<br />
<br />
“I know, but it wont be for long girl. I know there are plenty of promoters up I Glasgow who'd be really interested in some of your routines” - Becca<br />
<br />
“You really think so? I've never been to Glasgow. I'd love to see it.” - Tia <br />
<br />
“I'm really going to miss you” - Becca<br />
<br />
“Oh, I'll miss you too.” - Tia<br />
<br />
“I'll send you a text when I'm on the bus. Thanks for helping me with the trunk.” - Becca<br />
<br />
“Probably for the best. I hate long goodbyes. Have a good journey. And good luck tomorrow.” - Tia<br />
<br />
The Welsh lass with the vibrant, strawberry hair bounces off. She turns and wagges her fingers as a friendly goodbye, but she's soon lost in the crowd. Alone now, or at least as alone as it's possible to be in the crowded bus station, Becca's thoughts drift to tomorrow. The big day. Referendum day. She already knows how she'll vote.<br />
<br />
Her thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of eight or nine powerfully built young men, Rugby players going by their looks and the presence of various jerseys, hoodies and sports' bags marked “Glasgow University Rugby Club”. They're a bit rumbunctious and loud: there's a lot of back-slapping going on there. Becca rolls her eyes theatrically and thinks “Oh great, it's gonna be a long trip.”<br />
<br />
Becca raises a eyebrow in surprise as one of the lads suddenly gets out of his seat to offer it to an elderly lady in a thin, blue coat and a tartan hat. The old dear smiles gratefully at the lad, who takes a few pelters and a bit of a ribbing from his mates about his new “girlfriend”. The old lady doesn't seem to mind and even seems to find her benefactors embarrassment somewhat amusing. <br />
<br />
It's at this point that Alyss arrives, dressed in a 1950's style ¾ length dress and plenty of fake fur. She's pushing a luggage trolly in front of her that's just about creaking under the weight. Clearly, she's had to pay extra for all that luggage. She takes up station close to the plan metal seats at the stance, all of them occupied, and taps her foot noisely. She's clearly wanting one of the rugby lads to get up and give her their seat.<br />
<br />
At about the same time a family of four fight their way through the crowd, approaching the stance from the other direction. The two tired looking parents are hefting a good few suitcases with them. The older child, a girl, is dressed up as a strange hybrid of fairy godmother and Disney princess. The youngest, a tired looking little boy of about three, is dragging his TMNT knapsack along the ground behind him. His other hand is grasping an 8 inch tall Leonardo by one leg. If the doll every came with a katana, it's long gone by now.<br />
<br />
Almost immediately, two more of the rugby lads (ironically, the two that were ribbing their mate the loudest)get to their feet and offer them to the small family. Gratefully, the two parents plant their weary backsides on the cold steel on the chairs, and settle the kids on their laps. Dad uses the girl's fairy wand to scratch mums back.<br />
<br />
Alyss glares and taps her feet.<br />
<br />
Sebastian arrives a few moments later, taking note of how much Scottish accents he's hearing in the crowd around him. He arrives in a cluster of other travellers, some of whom look like workers from the City, dressed in power suits. He looks very out of his place in his worn jeans, leather jacket and plain t-shirt.<br />
<br />
Sebastian has barely had time to find himself a spot on the wall to lean against when a very tall, handsome older woman swings past him abruptly, speaking very loudly into her phone with a distinctive French accent. She sounds very put out and distinctly unhappy. The look on her face when she lays eyes on her travelling companions speaks volume. Sebastion recognises the power suit she's wearing as being worth more than his high-powered lap-top and tablet combined.<br />
<br />
Alyss and Becca notice her arrival as well. Alyss notices that her blonde hair appears to be an expensive dye job and that her fine, chiselled features are far too symmetrical to be entirely natural. Clearly, mother nature has had a bit of a helping hand from the old chisel with this one. The French woman notices the younger, prettier Alyss watching her and glares rudely.<br />
<br />
Becca see's the French woman's glower and chuckles at the thought of the poor lady having to experience the joys of the National Express. <br />
<br />
Other passengers continue to arrive and within a few minutes there is almost no standing space at all. By now, all of the rugby lads have given up their seats and are now sitting in a circle, using each other as back-rests, their legs stretched out in front of them and their luggage on their laps. One of two of them are sipping from soft drinks bottles that have clearly been refilled with something a little more “interesting” for the journey home.<br />
<br />
Becca looks at her watch. They're already running ten minutes late, despite all the extra-services that have been put on tonight to get people home for the referendum. A number of unintelligible announcements have made, apologising for the delay to this service or that service nada nada nada. It's all going over people's heads and the crowd are getting restless. The French lady seems especially irate, glancing at her rollex every few moments and practically growling at any station employee foolish enough to enter her eyeline.<br />
<br />
Eventually a very harried looking bus driver arrives, wearing his high visibility vest and carrying a bucket sized thermal flask full of whatever caffeinated hot drink he's chosen to help see him through the night. Not long after that, an off-white, dirty looking bus pulls up to the stance with the other driver already aboard. Spare driver immediately opens up the under-seat storage lockers and the rugby lads, already bored by the delay, start hefting the heavier luggage items into the bays, with the gratitude of their fellow passengers.<br />
<br />
The spare drier announces that the bus is fully booked. Ticketed passengers only, and for the sake of everyone's sanity he will requiring all passengers to stick to their allocated seats. The result is a chorus of groans, but the passengers are already so agitated by the delay that they just want to get on the bus and find a seat. Boarding proceeds quickly.<br />
<br />
The French lady tries to jump cue, but is immediately send packing to the rear of with some choice words from the driver. He's speaking in French himself, but his tone isn't lost on anyone, even if the words are. The family of four find their seats at the front of the bus. With all the jostling and seat switching going on, it takes about fifteen minutes of “excuse mes”, “nae bother pals” and “you're in my seats” before the last of the passengers are able to settle down. By which point the bus is already half an hour late and tempers are beginning to fray.<br />
<br />
The rugby lads are among the last to take their seats. The very last is the French lady, who finds herself sitting beside Alyss. Sebastian is on the other side of the bus and slightly further back. Becca is just a few seats behind Alyss. None of them have really taken any notice of each other yet, but that's hardly surprising considering that none of them have ever met.<br />
<br />
Ten or fifteen minutes after leaving the station, a few of the rugby lads are already a little bit the worse for ware. They immediately begin to lead the bus in a surprisingly fine rendition of “National Express” by the divine comedy. There are a few muttered grumbles and complaints, but the jaunty tune soon has much of the bus clapping and tapping their feet, and the atmosphere much improves. Not for Sebastian and Alyss though, both of whom hate the song and find themselves gritting their teeth, wishing it was over.<br />
<br />
Becca, on the other hand, doesn't mind in the least and smiles to herself in amusement, even turning her Ipod down a little to listen. It seems like their about to go for an encore until the little girl down at the front starts singing out “Let it Be” in a reedy little girls voice. The rugby lads soon shut up and listen with tolerant respect, while a few of the other kids on the bus join in. At the end, there's a few polite, desultory claps.<br />
<br />
Becca, meanwhile, his pulled her hood up, dug herself deep into her chair, and turned the volume back up. All the way back up. It's at this point she's beginning to realise that the stink of stale lager she's smelling isn't coming from the rugby lads but from the rough looking old codger sat next to her. Fortunately, years of pulling pints in the Hard Rock have dulled her senses to such assaults and she manages to avoid gagging.<br />
<br />
The parents hastily shush their daughter before she begins her second rendition, and the driver gratefully turns up the volume on the radio for a bit, “so everyone can hear the road and weather news”.<br />
<br />
Alyss is calmly listening to her audiobook. It's a 1940's romance novel. She's doing her best not to crease her very expensive dress ad trying even harder to avoid having her very expensive dress come into contact with any of the seat covers. Sebastian, meanwhile, has been working on his laptop, coding a new app and determinedly ignoring the guy sitting next to him who keeps trying to look over his shoulder. Eventually, Sebastian lets the guy see what he's up to. Bored, his neighbour grunts, asking if Sebastian has any films on that thing.<br />
<br />
“It's the work's lap-op” - Sebastian<br />
<br />
The guy grunts again, rolls over, and tries to get some sleep.<br />
<br />
The French lady sat next to Alyss, meanwhile, is making a point of demarcating her territory by placing her purse on the seat between herself and Alyss. She's only just finished when she pulls her phone out of her bag again and resumes her loud, angry conversation. She's either oblivious too or dismissive of all the glares she's receiving from people who are either trying to sleep or reading quietly under the bus night lights.<br />
<br />
The very entitled Alyss tries her damnedest to stay calm and keep her mouth shut but it's more than she can take. The privileged librarian flips down the seat-back tray opposite the French woman, places the French woman's bag and purse on it and then snatches the phone out of her hand, smiles her sweetest smile, and then drops the phone into the Frenchwoman's handbag. All to a round of applause from some nearby passengers.<br />
<br />
“The battle of the bitches” Becca exclaims happily, “this is amazing”.<br />
<br />
The French woman gasps in astonishment, glares angrily at Alyss, and reaches back into her hand-bag. With seconds, she's dialling up again, giving Alyss a look that's just daring her to try that again.<br />
<br />
Alyss demurely takes the phone again -and receives a slap for her trouble.<br />
<br />
“Excuse me, we don't behave like this in England!” Alyss insists prissily.<br />
<br />
“In France, we do not steal other peoples phones” - Frenchwoman, in a fairly reasonable tone of voice.<br />
<br />
“I'm not stealing it if I'm placing it in your bag” -Alyss<br />
<br />
“Nor do we interrupt one another's conversations.” - Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“Well, you're interrupting everyone else on the bus. So shut-up.” -Alyss.<br />
<br />
“I don't recall being told this was a silent bus”. -Frenchwoman, prissily and complete oblivious to the little red, “no phone calls” signs plastered on every window of the bus.” - Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“Well I think you'll find that the manners of modern decorum insist that you much be polite and nice to people, especially on an overnight journey”. -Alyss<br />
<br />
“Well you could perhaps be polite and nice to me by allowing me to complete my important phone call.” - Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“Well you could perhaps be polite and nice by going back to your own country and not behaving like this in England. Now I insist you leave me alone. My mama and papa are very important people and they will sue if you continue to behave in this way.” -Alyss, proving that, not only is she every so slightly a bitch, but she's actually just a little bit of a bigot as well.<br />
<br />
The Frenchwoman is indignant. Shocked, but indignant. “Did you just tell me to go back to my own country. I believe there are laws against that sort of thing in this country. Perhaps I should be the one suing you?”<br />
<br />
“There might well be, but I think you'll find they don't apply to me.” - Alyss.<br />
<br />
By this point, just about everyone on the bus who's still awake is paying attention.<br />
<br />
“Daddy, what's a bigot?” - Little boy with the TMNT rucksack.<br />
<br />
“Sssssh.” - Daddy.<br />
<br />
“Well, I think you'll find that if you ludicrously attempt to sue me, I shall in turn sue you for racism.” - Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“That would sort of imply you're a different race. You're a nationality darling.” -Alyss.<br />
<br />
“I think you'll find that the law doesn't make such distinctions.” -Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“Papa told me that I can say what I want.” -Alyss.<br />
<br />
“I think you'll find that “papa” should have disciplined you better with the aid of a little slap every now and then.” - Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“Your parents should have told you that it's rude to be loud and obnoxious on buses! There are small children trying to sleep. You really should be more considerate.” -Alyss<br />
<br />
“I will have you know that the reason I am speaking loudly is because my mother is hard of hearing.” -Frenchwoman.<br />
<br />
“Well, that's not my problem. Maybe you should send her a text message.” -Alyss.<br />
<br />
The Frenchwoman can't think of an answer to that. After a few moments of bluster, she simply reaches into her handbag, withdraws her phone again and resumes her conversation, albiat a little bit quieter. She's also holding her phone to the other side of her away. Away from Alyss.<br />
<br />
Alyss responds by going into her back and withdrawing a large textbook on library filing systems. She opens it out on her seat-back tray, but the pages stretch out well onto the French ladies own tray. The other woman makes an exasperated noise but completely ignores Alyss, and proceeds to tell her mother (in French) all about the exasperating brat she's found herself sat beside on this good awful bus.<br />
<br />
A few seats behind, Becca remarks to her neighbour that this is going to feel like a very long eight hours.<br />
<br />
After another couple of hours, the bus has passed the Watford Gap. By this point the bus has gone quiet. Even the rugby lads are barely stirring, whispering quietly amongst themselves. Becca's travelling campanion is becoming increasingly obnoxious however. He's quietly drooling in his sleep at the moment however. Sebastion's seating companion is likewise out like a light. Meanwhile, the two privileged ladies from either end of the English channel are glaring at one another.<br />
<br />
Eventually, the French lady stands up, rudely squeezes past Alyss and crosses the aisle to have a whispered conversation with a well dressed man on the other side of the aisle. He get out of his seat, takes his briefcase down from the overhead compartment, and crosses over to the other side of the bus, sitting in the French ladies vacated seat. He gives Alyss a disapproving look but says nothing, simply continuing to read his book. Alyss notices it's entitled “The Golden Dawn”, but thinks nothing of it. <br />
<br />
She doesn't have any ranks in Occult.<br />
<br />
Alyss pointedly puts her book away, with a satisfied smug.<br />
<br />
About four and a half hours into the journey, the bus pulls into a service station and a few of the passengers get out to stretch their legs. Sebastion, most of the Rugby guys, the guy from the “Let it Be” family and Becca among them. The dad sighs dramatically as he lights up a blue Superkings. Becca meanwhile smokes a roll-up she prepared earlier. It's just tobacco. Nothing exotic. After a few moments, the French Lady makes her way down the stairs and produces a silver cigarette case from her inside pocket. She taps a beautifully rolled, silver-filtered cigarette again the lid once, twice, then lights up. She's definitely a heavy smoker. Three deep inhalations and the cigarette is gone. Then she's back on the bus before the drivers have even changed over.<br />
<br />
Her cigarette complete, she pulls out her phone again and resumes her loud conversation.<br />
<br />
Dad meanwhile is drinking a can of Monster, bleary eyed and desperately in need of a few hours sleep.<br />
<br />
A few moments later, everyone is back on the bus. Mr Old firm is lying across Becca's seat, but she politely nudges him awake and he rolls back over to his side of the seat.<br />
<br />
He mutters, “Sorry Doll. Had a wee it too much ah the ol vino del collapso”. He's soon fast asleep. Meanwhile, Sebastion's companion is awake again. “ Ahright!” he announces in a thick Geordie accent, “Got any decent toons [as in “tunes”] on that thing?”<br />
<br />
Sebastion shakes his head, and the man returns to his sleep, profoundly disappointed.<br />
<br />
Alyss has nodded off by this point, and awakes to find her companion looking through a number of documents. It's all graphs and pie charts and she assumes it's something to do with economics. Blearily, she sits up and returns to her audio book.<br />
<br />
An hour south of Glasgow, the bus slumbers. The "Let it Go" family at the front of the bus have fallen silent, bleary-eyed parents whispering quietly over the somnolent forms of their sleeping children. The rugby-sevens team from Glasgow University, triumphant after their away victory at King's College, London, are snoring loudly. The contents of their re-filled "soft-drinks" bottles long since imbibed by throats parched in the dry heat of the darkened cabin. The bus is lit intermittently by the passing motorway lights, illuminating the cabin every few moments in a rhythm uncannily in tune with the human heart beat. Overhead, a few reading lights remain lit. <br />
Muted, ceiling-mounted televisions display BBC News 24. Tomorrow's referendum on Independence looms large in the hourly newscasts, the sombre faces of the anchors looking ever so slightly troubled at the prospect that tomorrow might witness the death of the United Kingdom. The latest poll figures flash ominously across the bottom of the screen. "Should Scotland be an Independent Country?" 51% Yes, 49% No.<br />
<br />
The bus is packed with expatriates returning home, many of them City professionals who work in London through the week, returning to their families mostly at weekends; taking a rare weekday break to cast their ballot. Forced to "slum" it in the bus with the riff-raff by the huge numbers of Scot's clogging the United Kingdoms airways and railways. All desperate to have a say in their country's future. A future in which only the Scots - and a few hundred thousands other EU nationals living in Scotland- will have a right to vote in a matter that affect the future of every man, woman and child in three countries and one province.<br />
<br />
Someone coughs a little further down the aisle. It's the off-shift driver, stirring in his sleep. His leg stretched far out into the centre isle. The stilted "patter" of the late night Radio Clyde DJ, is just about audible over the snores, his voice meandering lazily down the aisle. The French woman makes another disgusted tutting noise as -for the third time in as many hours- she's forced to nudge the head of a sleeping drunk away from her shoulder.<br />
<br />
From nowhere, an intense flash of orange light fills the crowded interior. There's no time to blink away the after-image before the blast hits-followed shortly thereafter by a wall of sound and humans screams. Floor becomes the ceiling and two dozen passengers fall from their seats onto the roof and luggage racks. A terrible shriek of grinding metal rips through the screams, announcing that the bus is sliding across the motorway embankment on it's roof. With another sudden lurch, the bus rolls. One of the "Let it Go" Children flies down the aisle, her horrified baby-scream lost in the noise and tumult. An acidic smell of bile fills the air, a window smashes, and a man is crushed as the bus rolls again, his upper torso still in the bus while the lower is pulped into paste by the still-rolling vehicle.<br />
<br />
After a few moments more, the bus comes to an -almost- rest. It's not moving any more, but it's rocking up and down like a see-saw, as though poised at the edge of something. There are sounds reminiscent of gunfire coming from nearby. Outside, lightning flashes in a clear sky, The bright, white light of rapidly approaching head-lights fill the cabin. There's a screech of brakes then... nothing. <!-- edit note --> <br />
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Dangerous Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11494853825931603065noreply@blogger.com63tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-75207822883812453472015-03-26T15:31:00.004+00:002015-03-26T15:41:36.972+00:00No Mean City: Becca Adams/Threnody Noir<span style="color: mediumblue; font-size: medium;">Becca Adams "Threnody Noire"<br /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVajCgUGICpldXrXW6cBlXItptckR9n1tNQlG2YPSwSkpv6U9wkMMZRgo3uagbSciKi4nBaMz9yo6h41fKH9vQenNW1ISw_HDM4BDVJNfVlMEPJRTzsn5KPLIPQMV2nq7G_ZJWps-flDo/s1600/Thenody+Noire+PC.bmp" /></span><i>Threnody Noir is a pint sized Gothic Burlesque dancer from Glasgow. Performing routines for bars and clubs on the alternative circuit, she is just starting to get her name known, and has even been to London once or twice to perform at the Torture Garden. Her style is a mash-up of Suicide Girls meets kinky Bram Stoker.</i><br /><br /><i>When not performing or creating costumes and routines she balances the books with income from a part-time job pulling pints and dishing out Jack Daniels to drunks at the Hard Rock Cafe. Outside of her stage-life she is Becca Adams, 22 years old and living in a damp and dingy shared flat with her two flat-mates. Life is tedious but she gets her kicks when she can. </i><br /><br /><i>Becca Adams grew up in a tenement just off Duke Street with her brother John and her mum. It was nothing exciting and her mum did the best she could as a single-parent, working two jobs to provide for her children. Because of this Becca was able to go to ballet classes from when she was little and showed herself to be a rather exceptional dancer. Her mum found it a terrible and disappointing shock the day Becca decided, aged 13, that she didn’t want to dance anymore and instead joined her brother at the local Aikido dojo. Her mum secretly hoped it was just a phase with her rebellious young daughter. </i><br /><br /><i>By 16, Becca and her brother John were on their own as their mum died of cancer, leaving John to bring up his sister. This time left its mark on Becca and her confidence shrank as she found it increasingly difficult to fit in at school. It felt like she was living in a different world from her peers, though try as she might she couldn’t make any real friends. By the time she left school for college she was a very average student who secretly coped with her anxieties by controlling what she ate and purging when her control slipped.</i><br /><br /><i>Once at college she discovered a whole new world. Studying an HND in Applied Art was a revelation to her. Trying her hand at glass, ceramics, jewellery and textiles she uncovered a passion for making performance costumes. Suddenly she could be whoever she wanted to be. Suddenly she was cool, people found her funny and attractive, and it was here she discovered Glasgow’s rock scene and alternative culture. </i><br /><br /><i>On the eve of the referendum Threnody Noir is slumming it big style on the National Express. Her costumes are packed in a vintage travel case in the hold, while she is with the hot and sweaty human cargo that was scraped up and crammed in at London Victoria. She’s wishing she’d been pushier in the queue to have gotten a window seat and now she’s rubbing shoulders with Mr Old-Firm who’s oozing Tenants from his gills. Closing her eyes and hoping for sleep between here and Buchanan St. Bus Station, her hopes for her country flicker through her mind - tomorrow it’s the ballot box, but for tonight it’s the coach. Burlesque isn’t all nipple tassels and glamour.</i><br /><br /><span style="color: mediumblue;">CHARACTER SHEET:</span><br /><br /> Concept: Gothic Burlesque Dancer<br /> Virtue: Charity<br /> Vice: Gluttony<br /><br /> Mental: Physical: Social:<br /> Intelligence ** Strength ** Presence ***<br /> Wits: ** Dexterity *** Manipulation *<br /> Resolve: *** Stamina *** Composure ***<br /><br /> Mental Skills:<br /> Academics *, Crafts *, Occult (Wicca) (Vampire Novels) **<br /><br /> Physical Skills:<br /> Athletics ***, Brawl **, Drive *, Weaponry *<br /><br /> Social Skills:<br /> Empathy ***, Expression (Dance) ***, Socialise ***, Streetwise **<br /><br /> Merits: Fighting Style Akido *, Iron Stomach **, Barfly *, Contacts (Nightclubs) *, Fast Reflexes *, Fleet Footed *<br /><br /> Willpower: 6, Defence 2, Initiative 7, Size 5, Speed 11, Wisdom 7<br /><br /> XP Spent: 15. Saved: 0Dangerous Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11494853825931603065noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-43379348861500844902015-03-26T15:31:00.000+00:002015-03-26T15:49:12.758+00:00No Mean City: Alyss Clarke-Wilson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5T4HJ_UuCdzdGmVi6SBNE-nwIItxffB-oCHlhfsI6BN337_QyO-Gcf2ZpSYXU1f5rPIkaf1NFL9vyFInw_mf3Mpjff42jD3jPcqeWmFd46q4e3Jk8CwEQhyI3gWBrBKvYObgslDM0AN8/s1600/Alyss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5T4HJ_UuCdzdGmVi6SBNE-nwIItxffB-oCHlhfsI6BN337_QyO-Gcf2ZpSYXU1f5rPIkaf1NFL9vyFInw_mf3Mpjff42jD3jPcqeWmFd46q4e3Jk8CwEQhyI3gWBrBKvYObgslDM0AN8/s1600/Alyss.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<em>Alyss is a pretty, rich girl with a friendly heart and a slightly spoiled, sheltered life. The only child of two Cambridge barristers, she grew up with everything she wanted without having to work to get it. Her childhood was spent in the company of au pairs while her parents worked. Her best friends were the dogs that mummy bread as a side project and her pony, Arthur, who was a gift from daddy for her eighth birthday. She also developed a fondness for knitting, reading and gardening from her au pairs and the house staff.<br /><br /> Her parents expected their pretty little girl to grow up and become a trophy wife, setting up a trust fund to support her until a suitably rich husband came along -and she was happy to spend it! However, at 19, after an eye opening gap year in Paris, she decided that she'd rather be a librarian than a trophy wife.<br /><br /> Alyss is full aware of how pretty she is and with the life she's had and the money from her parents, she afford the best of everything. A huge fan of 1940's fashion, she uses her slim figure and red hair to pull off the wartime beauty look. <br /><br /> This woman likes to keep people guessing about her.<br /><br /> Unfortunately, she learned at university that the pretty people don't always get to be popular. Bullied by other women and targeted by men as an easy lay, she became a much more introverted and studious person than she was at school. She left the university of Aberystwyth with a 2.1 BSc in Information and Library studies before she moved to London and gained a Masters degree in Library Science. After a long term job and a messy breakup in London, at 27 she's keen for a fresh start and has sworn off men for the foreseeable future. She wouldn't have been on the bus to her new life and job in Glasgow, if it weren't for the fact that she didn't want mummy and daddy to work out where she was headed until she got there.</em>Dangerous Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11494853825931603065noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-46718530190219624872015-03-26T15:30:00.001+00:002015-03-26T15:51:07.843+00:00No Mean City: Sebastian Spencer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2jymMbfkCRrKsjvqYpNWQqSlrU7Lg6_O5wpFhIpSuRdhfaPvgGl_M6MAE1gJsxaI-_MWEPwDcLiEzMlYfzlzq5jN8UeN8bOHtcVJPUWvvyw2DWGY1pRzEOfmdZ4-1hHgHajMhaPrZcY/s1600/sebastian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2jymMbfkCRrKsjvqYpNWQqSlrU7Lg6_O5wpFhIpSuRdhfaPvgGl_M6MAE1gJsxaI-_MWEPwDcLiEzMlYfzlzq5jN8UeN8bOHtcVJPUWvvyw2DWGY1pRzEOfmdZ4-1hHgHajMhaPrZcY/s1600/sebastian.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue;">Sabastian Spencer</span>:</h4>
<em>Sebastian Spencer is a 20 year old student, studying Computing Science at Imperial College, London, and just starting a gap at a small computing company in Glasgow. Sebastian is the only child of Vicky and Tom Spencer, who worked in a bakery before winning a large sum of money on the races just before Sebastian was born. They've spent the time since trying to climb the social ladder and into the upper middle class.<br /><br /> Their attempts to do this mostly involved splashing money on all the gadgets money can buy and trying to mold their son into a Paragon of the middle class. As a result, Sebastian had the finest tutors and any interest he developed, no matter how fleeting, was indulged; including Chemistry and Computers. He also had a range of "extracurricular" activities including shooting, camping an metal working. He would create "practical jokes" that involved covering people in foul smelling liquids. He would go on protest marches about all manner of things, and he would use the computer equipment he had to hack into secure servers and build computer viruses.<br /><br /> Due to the indulgence of his parents, he learned to drive at 15 and as driven on racetracks, on and off-road. Being a spoiled only child, he also developed an ability to lie convincingly, able to avoid most consequences of his rebellious actions. As time went on, Sebastian focused much of his attention on computers, building a network of online friends, while spectacularly failing to make more than one or two friends in the real world.<br /> He even rebelled against his parents religious views- being staunch Anglicans- and began to study and follow a more alternative spirituality. He dabbled in Wicca, Buddhism, Druidry and other varied and eclectic paths while never settling on any one.<br /><br /> At 18, he was accepted into Imperial College London to study Computing, mainly due to a large "donation" and recognition of his existing ability rather than any previous academic achievement. He continued this trend of half heartedly performing the academic work but scraping through assessments because of the quality of his practical work. Towards he end of his second year his tutors, despairing of his academic ability, persuaded him to apply for a gap year placement working for a computer company. He was accepted onto a year long work programme with "North Central Software and Management," a company that designs and maintains software tha runs banking and cctv systems. He caught the coach from London Victoria Station</em><br />
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<br />Dangerous Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11494853825931603065noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-2071348620720585982015-03-22T20:56:00.001+00:002015-03-22T21:19:13.742+00:00Mage the Awakening: No Mean City<div style="text-align: justify;">
Way, way back in 2011 I spoke about starting a Werewolf: The Forsaken Game chronicile in Glasgow. It kind of fell through, but I've about to start DMing a Mage chronicle based loosely on the original campaign outline, with a few changes here and there to bring it up to speed with the present day.</div>
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Here's a nice piece of foreshadowing I sent my players, along with a portrait of our first character, Becca Adams/Threnody Noire. Mage and Burlesque dancer extraordinaire. I'll put up her full profile and background in a couple of days.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVajCgUGICpldXrXW6cBlXItptckR9n1tNQlG2YPSwSkpv6U9wkMMZRgo3uagbSciKi4nBaMz9yo6h41fKH9vQenNW1ISw_HDM4BDVJNfVlMEPJRTzsn5KPLIPQMV2nq7G_ZJWps-flDo/s1600/Thenody+Noire+PC.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVajCgUGICpldXrXW6cBlXItptckR9n1tNQlG2YPSwSkpv6U9wkMMZRgo3uagbSciKi4nBaMz9yo6h41fKH9vQenNW1ISw_HDM4BDVJNfVlMEPJRTzsn5KPLIPQMV2nq7G_ZJWps-flDo/s1600/Thenody+Noire+PC.bmp" height="221" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i><i><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">An hour south of Glasgow, the bus slumbers. The "Let it Go" family at the front of the bus have fallen silent, bleary-eyed parents whispering quietly over the somnolent forms of their sleeping children. The rugby-sevens team from Glasgow University, triumphant after their away victory at King's College, London, are snoring loudly. The contents of their re-filled "soft-drinks" bottles long since imbibed by throats parched in the dry heat of the darkened cabin. The bus is lit intermittently by the passing motorway lights, illuminating the cabin every few moments in a rhythm uncannily in tune with the human heart beat. Overhead, a few reading lights remain lit, indicating that you are not the only passenger still awake on the packed London-to-Glasgow Express. Muted, ceiling-mounted televisions display BBC News 24. Tomorrow's referendum on Independence looms large in the hourly newscasts, the sombre faces of the anchors looking ever so slightly troubled at the prospect that tomorrow might witness the death of the United Kingdom. The latest poll figures flash ominously across the bottom of the screen. "Should Scotland be an Independent Country?" 51% Yes, 49% No.</span></i></i></div>
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<i>The bus is packed with expatriates returning home, many of them City professionals who work in London through the week, returning to their families mostly at weekends; taking a rare weekday break to cast their ballot. Forced to "slum" it in the bus with the riff-raff by the huge numbers of Scot's clogging the United Kingdoms airways and railways. All desperate to have a say in their country's future. A future in which only the Scots - and a few hundred thousands other EU nationals living in Scotland- will have a right to vote in a matter that affect the future of every man, woman and child in three countries and one province.</i></div>
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<i>Someone coughs a little further down the aisle. It's the off-shift driver, stirring in his sleep. His leg stretched far out into the centre isle. You can just barely hear the stilted "patter" of the late night Radio Clyde DJ, his voice meandering lazily down the aisle to your seat in the middle of the bus. A few rows further down, you can hear the French woman make another disgusted tutting noise as -for the third time in as many hours- she's forced to nudge the head of a sleeping drunk away from her shoulder.</i></div>
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<i>You're just about to -finally- doze off when a intense flash of orange light fights its way past your closed eye-lids. You've no time to blink away the after-image before the blast hits you -followed shortly thereafter by a wall of sound and humans screams. You feel your stomach lurch, grateful you had the sense to leave your seat restraints buckled as floor becomes the ceiling and two dozen passengers fall from their seats onto the roof and luggage racks. A terrible shriek of grinding metal tells you the bus is on it's roof, sliding across the motorway embankment. With another sudden lurch, the bus rolls. One of the "Let it Go" Children flies past you, her horrified baby-scream lost in the noise and tumult. Something wet, acid and smelling of bile soaks your clothes, a window smashes, and a man is crushed as the bus rolls again, his upper torso still in the bus while the lower is pulped into paste by the still-rolling vehicle.</i></div>
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<i>After a few moments more, the bus comes to an -almost- rest. It's not moving any more, but it's rocking up and down like a see-saw, as though poised at the edge of something. You can hear what sounds like gunfire nearby. Outside, you see lightning flash. Was it lightning that did this? But no, the skies were clear. You reach up to a warm sticky spot on your forehead. Some-ones blood is running down your face. That's when you see the rapidly approaching headlights. There's a screech of brakes then... nothing.</i></div>
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<i><span style="color: white;">It feels like a very, very long time before you wake up.</span></i></div>
</span></i>Dangerous Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11494853825931603065noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-12315966386750005832014-11-25T14:20:00.000+00:002014-11-25T15:01:05.759+00:00Edarnia: Gods and WeatherIn Edarnia, my home-brew setting, weather doesn't depend on climate patterns in the same way as it does in real-life. Instead, on Edarnia, weather exists at the whim of the Gods. So, the weather experienced in any given geographical area is entirely dependent on which pantheon is worshipped locally, and on that pantheon's relationships with other pantheons that might influence the local weather.<br />
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Take the Protectorate of Zama, for example. Here, the Pantheon of the Sun (the Phoenician Pantheon)is worshiped by the vast majority of the inhabitants. As one might expect, this results in warm, sunny days and (because the Pantheon of the Sun also has purview over the moon and stars) warm, clear nights. Because the Pantheon of the Sun has fairly warm relations with the Pantheon of the Earth, the soil is healthy and experiences a long growing seasons. Three to four crops a year are common, but crop growth is also dependent on the Pantheon of the Suns' somewhat difficult relationship with the Pantheon of the Sky (also known as the Pantheon of Storms). Thus, when it does rain, the rain often comes accompanied by high winds and can damage crops as much as nourish them. Thus, the Protectorate of Zama does all it can to keep on good terms with the Pantheon of Rivers, which provides a steady source of clean water to irrigate Zama's crops.<br />
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In a similar vein, the lands under the reign of the Pantheon of Storms are dark, cold and often windy. Due to the difficult relationship with the Pantheon of the Sun, the lands see very little direct sunlight through the omnipresent cloud cover. And due to the outright hostility the Pantheon of the Earth bears the Pantheon of Storms (due to the rape of an earth goddess by a god of the skies), the soil is extremely poor. Thus, the population in these lands is dependent on the seas for raiding, fishing and trade - and the violent Storm Gods have assured themselves of the cooperation of the Pantheon of Seas by the simple expedient of having taken one of their number hostage.<br />
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Under the Earth, in the lands between the surface and hell, the Pantheon of Darkness alone holds sway. Thus, there is no sun and little breeze, for the one thing the Gods of the Sky and the Sun can always agree upon is that the Pantheon of Darkness is their greatest foe. That being said, the Pantheons of Water and Sea have no quarrel with the Pantheon of Darkness, and so both fresh and salt water can be found in the Underearth. Moreover, the neutrality of the Mycenean Pantheon, the Pantheon of Fire, (who reside under a mountain themselves, after all) ensures the Underearth remains warm. This combination of water and heat allows some plants to grow and fish and other animal life to prosper in small number.<br />
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Finally, the lands of the Imperium are bleak and barren. The humans who reside their have turned their backs on the gods to traffic with demons and devils. Thus, the temperature is always either too cold or two warm, the lighting is always dull and grey, water is brackish, there is very little direct sunlight and it almost never rains. Thus the humans of the Imperium ever see to expand their lands by conquest and enslavement and rely entirely on conquest, trade and tribute in order to feed themselves.Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-80498298308846349542014-09-01T17:57:00.003+00:002014-09-01T18:19:27.850+00:00L5R CharactersHere's a group photograph of the miniatures I painted for my L5R group. From left to right: Tsuruchi Daiki, Agasha Haruki Naoki-Ro, Chuda Fumiko, Bayushi Midori, Hida Tadakatus and Kuni Kasumi.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8g2GsMzX9SWeC3UAsIoTmVc7H_vIbuuyMmf_b9bPB5tQkz5gEiNl4CtH_pfXIGkM7IQgqHIHLrkLCqoyZ51yM1diAs_s8MBMRoe4e6h-WNXaZ2Ecosuh2V1B6s1Ls9LBuHiFBEnFjvQ/s1600/Kuni+Kasumi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8g2GsMzX9SWeC3UAsIoTmVc7H_vIbuuyMmf_b9bPB5tQkz5gEiNl4CtH_pfXIGkM7IQgqHIHLrkLCqoyZ51yM1diAs_s8MBMRoe4e6h-WNXaZ2Ecosuh2V1B6s1Ls9LBuHiFBEnFjvQ/s1600/Kuni+Kasumi.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-3432894668095820012014-08-29T12:46:00.001+00:002014-08-29T12:46:57.451+00:00Dark Heresy/Death KnellIsn't it typical? No sooner do I start recording our adventures on the blog than the game dies. While a few of our players were away over the Holidays, I started up a game of Legend of the Five \rings with my group, using the Heroes of Rokugan III organised play modules.<br />
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My group liked it so much, we've moved over to playing L5R instead of Dark Heresy. We're now four module in and all the payers who have been able to make a full session so far love it. One of my players commented that they loved the challenge of navigating the put-falls an constraints of what is, to westerners, an entirely alien society. The other quickly agreed.<br />
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And that, I think, is what's central to the appeal of Legend of the Five Rings.<br />
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Unfortunately I won't be able to put up any actual play reports here for a good long time (because it's an organised play campaign, anything I put up here would constitute spoilers). But I am keeping a journal. So when the campaign ends I about a year or so, I'll put the journal up for all to see.Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-13856524890675691012014-06-26T10:39:00.001+00:002014-06-26T10:39:24.237+00:00Dark Heresy Episode 1.2<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">I'm a week behind in the write-ups, as we've just finished playing episode 1.3. Just before we started last session, Stuart realised that he had already played the original Call of Cthulu campaign on which this Dark Heresy campaign is based. Before the start of the session, we briefly discussed our options as a group (carry on with the campaign, play a different published campaign with the same characters, or switch to Legend of the Five Rings). For the time being, we decided to continue playing and decide what we would do next week.</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: red;">The Acolytes:</span></b></div>
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<ul style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0.25em 0px;"><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Cadence:</span> A Tech Priest CyberHound handler. <i>Played by Ali.</i></div>
</li>
<li style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0.25em 0px;"><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Grimoire:</span> Potent Void-Born Psyker. <i>Played by John.</i></div>
</li>
<li style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0.25em 0px;"><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Gunner:</span> Down-Hive Gun-Slinging Scum. <i>Played by Fiona</i></div>
</li>
<li style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0.25em 0px;"><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Ishtari: </span>Novice Sister of Battle. <i>Played by Caroline. </i></div>
</li>
<li style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0.25em 0px;"><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Lemantz</span>: Penumbrae Hive Enforcer. <i>Played by Niall.</i></div>
</li>
<li style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0.25em 0px;"><div class="western" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Zane:</span> "Squat" Flamer-wielding Cleric. <i>Played by Stuart.</i></div>
</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Outside the door of Chamber 401, the Acolytes begin a hurried discussion, first determining (after a brief word with the ship's captain) that they are standing outside the only exit. The immediately instruct the captain to withdraw to the next bulkhead and seal both it and the one on the other side of the room.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once "safely" locked in to a very confined space with an unknown foe on the other side of the door, Cadence easily bypasses the lock.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Inside, the once-stateroom is in disarray. Three naked human figures, "clad" only in bloody war-paint stand around a small, metallic letter bin (the sort you might find next to any scribe's work-space) throwing in documents, books and other artifacts. An odourless, colourless steam rises from the bin. Meanwhile, on the bed, lies a headless, mutilated corpse. The three intruders reach for their weapons while the door hisses open: each carries a sharpened human thighbone, carved with strange runes and already stained with (presumed) human blood.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Acolytes gun them down before they can even move.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Entering the cabin, the Acolytes quickly begin an investigation. Cadence and Ishtari immediately move to rescue what documents they can, particularly those already consigned to the bin. Inside the small metal receptacle, they find not flames, but a strange, purple goog that appears to be slowly dissolving any non-metal objects placed within. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They rescue a number of documents from the flames, including a hard copy of an astropathic transmission, a formal "chop" of the sort used by Rogue Trader and noble houses in the Crone Sector to announce themselves, a metal jho-stick lighter (on the carpet next to the bin), a trade receipt and (rescued from the bin itself) a partially dissolved, grainy pictograph of a star-ship.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">[Handouts 1-5 from the previous post]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Meanwhile, Grimoire reaches out with his less natural senses. The temperature in the room immediately drops slightly, but no-one seems to notice. Grimoire's senses detect a dispersing warp nimbus, with a similar "taste" to the one he experienced in the Surgeon' lair <span style="color: red;">[Episode 0.4]</span> immediately following their quarries escape. It's only similar though. Not identical.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Meanwhile, Zane examines the dead "painted men". He can find no clue as to their identity as individuals, but notes that the war-paint is indeed blood (very fresh blood) that has been painted atop a pattern of swirls and jagged lines carved into their flesh and long since scarred over. He also gets a closer look at each of the three thigh-bone clubs and confirms that they did indeed once come from a human being. He can make out a number of runes carved into each, but they mean nothing to him personally (or, indeed, to any of the Acolytes). Each painted man wears an identical white mask, seemingly carved from a large piece of ivory (a shoulder bone perhaps?). The masks are worked into a rough oval, featureless except for two triangular vision holes and a long "mouth" from which protrudes a long, bloody (and somewhat rotten) animal tongue of some kind. Similar to that of a grox.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Gunner looks around the rest of the room, carefully checking for anything the painted men might have dropped or missed in their search. He finds a hand-written letter on the carpet beneath a dresser <span style="color: red;">[Handout 6]</span> and a small hard-bound book beneath the bed <span style="color: red;">[Handout 7]</span>. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Meanwhile, Lementz, the most forensically-aware member of the group, examines the corpse on the bed. It's a man, with an appearance anywhere between mid-to-late thirties, although it's hard to be sure for two reasons: the relative availability of rejuv treatments in the Crone Sector and, most significantly, the fact that the body has been horribly mutilated. Lementz can tell that the marks carved into the body were made while the victim was still alive, all the more horrible given the extremity of the mutilation. The head has been severed from the body by a number of down-word strokes from a crude, sharp object, leaving a ragged wounded and a series of puncture wounds to either side of the point of separation. An especially large rune <span style="color: red;">[Hand-Out 8] </span>stands out among the smaller wounds on the body.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The group briefly confers after their sweep. They briefly discuss the various clues they have found. The central issue for the group seems to be whether or not the corpse on the bed is Jeremiah Elias. After all, they have no-way of identifying the body as yet. After a brief discussion, they step out of room 401 and close it behind them. They they summon the captain.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Prudently, the captain returns with a fair-sized Securitor team at his back. The ship-board guards are wearing full flak armour and carrying boarding shotguns. The captain, looking relieved, leaves his escort at the bulkhead and approaches the party alone. The relieved look soon vanishes from his face (replaced with near-panic) when Cadence, who's understanding of Geller fields is somewhat sketchy, instructs the Captain that he will need to have the ones onboard ship checked immediately. The Captain (assuming that the occupant of room 401 was killed by Daemons who boarded the ship while it was at warp) immediately orders a full sanitation sweep of the ship and an inspection of it's Geller Fields.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Although the Captain clearly wishes to return to the bridge to coordinate these efforts, the acolytes use their authority as Throne Agents to keep him where he is. They escort him into the room and ask him to confirm if he recognises any of the corpses. As it transpires, he claims he can't. He never met Jeremiah Elias in person and does not recognise the three painted men as being among his crew. But then, given that there are around 1400 crew onboard, that's not surprising. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It's difficult to give an exact figure," the Captain admits, "We regularly conscript fresh bilge-scum from the prisons at every stop we make. In-fighting and disease amidst the lower deck crew insures a high-turnaround. We don't even bother to keep track of who lives and who dies anymore. Haven't for centuries, in fact."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The other acolytes are not pleased (nor especially convinced) by this, but settle down a bit once the void-born acolytes, Grimoire and Zane, confirm that this is fairly common practice among warp-capable vessels of all kinds. Even a luxury transport such as this.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Captain is them grilled about possible ways for an outsider to come onboard. Grimoire in particular is convinced that warp-craft or teleportation was used but Cadence argues that without the protections of the Blessed Omnisiah and possession of certain powerful machine spirits, the painted men would have been destroyed by the denizens of the warp mid-transport.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At this point the captain is dismissed with instructions not to leave Penumbrae Space Dock until released by Inquisitorial Authority and with even stricter orders to permit no-one save the Inquisitional Forensor teams the Acolytes will be summoning to access this chamber.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Meanwhile, the Acolytes wait for a number of the "Zorias'" to arrive to retrieve the bodies and begin a more in-depth investigation of the scene. In the meantime, they again discuss whether or not the corpse on the bed could be Jeremiah Elias or just some dupe. After a time, they realise that speculation is pointless and instead decide to attend the planned rendezvous at the Irridium Guesthouse. Partly in the hope that they will find Jeremiah there alive and well. Partly to see who else might turn up to the planned meeting.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They thereafter turn back to the other clues and identify some leads that they can pursue without having to leave Penumbrae:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Trading House</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Hand-Bill for the Lecture</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Librarian</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Lady Eika Coriolanus herself.</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They are still debating long after troupe of stitched-face Zarius serfs arrive to take custody of the bodies and chamber 401.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">[In fact, they won't decide which lead to follow up after the Iridium Guest-House until well towards the end of he next session.]</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-54809574940426998952014-06-17T19:03:00.000+00:002014-06-17T19:04:33.098+00:00Dark Heresy Hand-Outs Session 1.2Clues found in the rooms of the deceased Remembrancer, Jeremiah Elias.<br />
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 1</span>: </div>
<div>
<br />
A hard-copy of an astropathic communication. Dates of transmission, rebroadcast and reception have been expunged. </div>
<div>
<br />
<i>To: Lord Coriolanus</i></div>
<div>
<i>From: Jamal Nazir</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i>Gracious Lord, I am informed you desire knowledge of our world of Pharos. In my possession are singular curios which I believe to be of interest. These I shall willingly display to you for your edification and gratification. Naturally, they are ancient and priceless beyond compare. I will arrange matters to your satisfaction when your agent calls upon me in the street of Jackelis, Old Quarter.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 2: </span><br />
A folded piece of hard-copy, embossed with the chop of a prominent Rogue Trader family, House Penhew. Beneath the chop can be found the name Evard Gavigan along with his title, "Seneschal, Tabula Rosa</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 3:</span><br />
A metal jho-stick lighter, made from cheap pressed metal. It is stamped with the words: " Shambling Tigura, Shian City."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://image0-rubylane.s3.amazonaws.com/shops/valerieivoryantiques/lcl-REY.1L.jpg?12" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="262" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shambling Tigura Lighter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: red;">Item 4:</span><br />
A pictograph -very dark and grainy- depicting a massive merchant vessel of some kind. The ship orbits a generic looking space dock to which it is attached by umbilicals. The star-field is partially obscured by the grainy quality of the image. Three letters are visible on the ships bow. "D-A-R".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 5: </span><br />
A trade receipt from an establishment calling itself Imassa Imports, located in Penumbrae City close to the shuttle port. The receipt mentions unspecified "services". On the back has been scrawled the words " Silas N'Kwane".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 6: </span><br />
A handwritten letter addressed to Jeremiah Elias, care of Prospero House. Return address is: Miriam Arrarat, Universitat Penumbrae. The letter seems quite old and travel-stained. It reads:<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"Sir, the text of which you enquired is no longer in our catalogue. The information you seek may be located in other volumes within our collection. If you contact me upon your return to Penumbrae, I will able to assist you in locating such volumes."</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 7:</span><br />
A small sheet of hard-copy, inserted between the pages of Gideon Ravenors: " A Mind in Darkness". It marks the beginning of chapter 11, "Fetishes in pre Imperial Cults." It is a handbill advertising a lecture on "Pre-Imperial Cults in the Crone Sector" delivered by a Signeur Antonius Kowlis, a fellow at Penumbrae's Eschkatonic Universitat, speaking as a guest lecturer at the Universitate Penumbrae. The lecture was several years ago.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Item 8:</span><br />
Symmetrical marks have been carved onto the corpses chest, which has also had it's tongue ripped out. The marks resemble two bloody crescents with a round object in the centre.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130316214737/villains/images/5/5a/The_Mark_of_the_Bloody_Tongue.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Symbol carved into Elias' Chest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-74604512805837249462014-06-17T13:29:00.001+00:002014-06-17T13:29:34.353+00:00Dark Heresy Campaign: Episode 1.1a<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: medium;">PCs:</span></span></span></div>
<ul>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Cadence:</span> A
Tech Priest CyberHound handler. <i>Played by Ali.</i></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Grimoire:</span> Potent Void-Born Psyker. <i>Played by John.</i></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Gunner:</span> Down-Hive Gun-Slinging Scum. <i>Played by
Fiona</i></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Ishtari: </span>Novice Sister of Battle. <i>Played by Caroline. </i></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Lemantz</span>:
Penumbrae Hive Enforcer. <i>Played by Niall.</i></div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Zane:</span> "Squat" Flamer-wielding Cleric. <i>Played by
Stuart.</i></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div class="western" style="text-align: justify;">
NPC's:</div>
<br />
<ul>
<li><div class="western" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Explicator Sand:</span> Seneschal of the Sanctum Invigilus. The PC's immediate superior within the Inquisition.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Session 1.1</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Within
hours of the Surgeon's escape, Coscorla is overwhelmed by a massive
Inquisitorial presence. Inquisitional Storm-troopers, Mechanicus
Skitarri and Adeptus Arbiters are moving from hab-block to hab-block,
rounding up dregs and inhabitants at gun-point. A few of the
orange-garbed gangers are stupid enough to resist, and pay dearly for
it. Bloody scraps of orange cloth flap pitifully in the gentle breeze
of the air recyclers. Boss Luntz is furious, loudly calling out
to all who will listen that he is an ally of the Inquisition. He
pleads with the acolytes when he is led into an armoured prisoner
conveyance, hands bound in electro-shocks cuffs before him. Lilly Arbest is also led away, weeping tears of bewilderment and betrayal. The last
the acolytes see of her is her face peering forlornly through the
rear window of a prime-mover marked with the ominous words: Adeptus
Mechanica Vivisection Node 361.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Inquisitor
Sand oversees it all, relishing the cruel scenes before him. He
congratulates the <span style="background-color: yellow;">acolytes o</span>n their successful defeat of probable Logician cell. He expresses disappointment at the “Surgeons”
evident escape, and seems surprised at the lack of fatalities among the acolytes. He implies that he had expected that Coscorla “thin
the herd” somewhat, but admits that while survival of the fittest is certainly an operational truth within the Inquisition, it is certainly not an
inefficient way of managing the Sanctum's wage bill.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The Explicaor carelessly throws each of the acolytes a small ersatz-leather wallet
containing their new Acolyte Rosettes and reminds them of a useful procedural loop-hole: while it is a capital offence to
impersonate an Inquisitor, there is no requirement to correct anyone who mistakes them for one. Indeed, such mistakes only add
to the Inquisitions mystique as an omniprescient force within the
Imperium. He scoffs openly though at the notion that any of them
might be mistaken for a member of the Ordos' higher echelons,
however. At least, not yet. But he does advise them to announce themselves as "Throne Agents" rather than "Inquisitional Acolytes" or the "Inquisition." Purely to take advantage of the ambiguity. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
With a
few final, parting barbs, he instructs Cadence and Sister Ishtari to
report to him for surgical treatment as soon as he returns to the
Sanctum Invigilus. He expects the remaining Acolytes to personally
bring their written reports to his Reclusiam at the beginning of
first-shift.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Cadence
and Ishtari undergo a horrific experience, bound to surgical tables
in the same room where Sand conducts his forensic examinations.
Surrounded by half-decayed, mutilated corpses, he gleefully explains
that he is somewhat short of anaesthetic. The procedures will have to
conducted using local anaesthetic only. Thus, both acolytes are wide
awake as Sand tears them open and pokes around in their insides with
blunt, remarkably filthy, surgical instruments. Fortunately, both
somehow manage to pass their toughness tests and avoid contracting
nasty infections while under the knife of their somewhat sadistic
employer.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
While the
injured acolytes recover from their ordeal, the others present their
reports to the Explicator at first-shift. All fail to mention the
initial blunder that led to a succession of fire fights with the
local Coscorla crime-lord and his gangers. Luckily, Sister Ishtari
has been excused from providing a written report due to her wounds.
Sand would be unlikely to forgive the acolytes for submitting
selectively edited reports and the naive young battle sister doesn't
have a deceptive bone in her body.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
At the
meeting, Sand informs the acolytes that he has another task for them.
One of their master's sometime informants, Jeremiah Elias, has
contacted the Sanctum Invigilus via astropath. Sand speaks of this
agent as a remembrancer fond of chasing ludicrous conspiracies and
clearly thinks little of him. However, he does admit that Elias has
occasionally provided useful information amongst all the dross.
Clearly, the Remembrancer thinks he has found something big-
astropathic communication is not inexpensive and nor, for that
matter, is warp-travel. As such, Sand will be sending the acolytes to
meet with Sand when his ship docks in six days. When asked, Sand
states he does not know what ship the informant will arrive on, only
that the acolytes are to contact Elias at his hostelry when he makes
land-fall.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Sand
provides only three useful pieces of information:</div>
<ul>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
informant has information concerning the doomed Coriolanus
Expedition.</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
astropathic message originated somewhere in the Shian sub-sector</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
informant is Jeremiah Elias, a Remembrencer who specialises in
writing sensationalist non-fiction concerning ancient, pre-Imperial
heresies of the Crone sector.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
With six
days to burn, the acolytes set about finding as much information as
they can about Elias and the Coriolanus expedition.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
From
their recovery cots, Cadence and Sister Ishtari set about finding out
as much as they can concerning Jeremiah Elias. However, while they
have no trouble accessing Inquisitorial files with their new security
clearances, they find that every second word in the man's file has
been “<redacted>”. This strikes Cadence as being somewhat
odd. Why would information concerning a mere informant -and an
unreliable one at that, according to Sand- be above their security clearance?</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Gunnar,
meanwhile, hits up his old street level contacts in return for
information. It seems that Elias' investigations have left very few
footprints in the Penumbrae underworld. Only the lowliest -and
craziest of Gunnar's various contacts have every heard of him – and
these contacts are themselves among the most rabid conspiracy
theorists. The sort of rambling, junk-addled lunatics than even the
worst of drunks steer clear of. Zane likewise speaks with contacts
among the local ecclesiarchy, but none of his scholarly companions
have even heard of the man or his theories.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Grimoire
has much better luck. As a fellow pysker, he has no qualms about
visiting the Sanctum's Telepath, Erazmus Kensin. Kensin is a wasted,
emaciated fellow, left paraplegic by the soul-binding process and
permanently plugged into the Sanctums astrotelepathica array by
dozens of thick cables. Suppurating pink flesh, badly infected, rims
each connection where the cable enters his thin body. Starved for
company, Kensin is only too happy to share what he knows about
Jeremiah Elias. Elias, it seems, is actually one of Inquisitor
Schardes most valuable and prised informants. Although not a member
of the Inquisiton himself, the remembrencer's research has frequently
uncovered high level conspiracies throughout the Crone sector. Elias'
tips have resulted in a number of successful prosecutions. At least
one corrupt Planetary Governor has been exposed and executed thanks
to Elias' research. While the scholarly community largely considers
him to be a “hack”, Inquisitor Scharde thinks very highly of
him. So highly, in fact, that Sand has standing orders to forward any
communiques from Elias to the Inquisitor immediately.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Which,
Erazmus muses, is odd considering that the message arrived three days
ago and Sand has yet to return to the astropath with clearance for
him to re-transmit to the Inquisitor. Erazmus even shares his
original transcript of the transmission with Grimoire. It clearly
shows that the informant is travelling on a ship called the Silver
Majesty. Moreover, the transmission was clearly sent from Shian
itself, not merely from somewhere within the Shian sub-sector.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Troubled,
Grimoire shares this information with his fellow Acolytes. Clearly
Sand has been deceiving them, but that is hardly unusual within the
paranoid ranks of the Inquisition. Despite this, their hackles -and
their suspicions- are raised. They decide they would prefer to meet
Elias at the docks rather than at his hostelry as Sand has requested.
Zane openly wonders if there is anything else they need to do in the
mean-time. He's clearly tired from a long day of voxing dry, rambling
old scholars for information. Ishtari helpfully points out that they
have two more leads to chase down: the Coriolanus expedition itself,
and the planet Shian.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Shian is
easy enough. Gunner explains that the world is the capital of the
Shian sub-sector, the last part of the Crone sector to have been
conquered by the Imperium. Although Shian itself was absorbed only a
few generations ago, it has already earned a reputation as a shady
trade hub where anything can be bought or sold for enough credits.
The world itself is almost entirely underwater. Most of the actual
land-mass is only a few metres above (and in some cases, under)
sea-level. It is crowded, dank and musty and overall a very, very
dangerous place to do business.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
Coriolanus Expedition is another matter. Cadence spends much of the
second day trawling through Inquisiorial data bases on the subject.
She quickly determines that it was an exploratory expedition
sponsored by the mighty House Coriolanus of Penumbrae in partnership
with House Penhew, a Rogue Trader dynasty bound to the Adpetus
Mechanicus Explorator fleets by a treaty of indentured servitude. The
entire expedition was reported lost some years back</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">[See the previous hand-out post for transcript of various hand-outs concerning the
expedition. The final entry is the transcript of the astropathic
communication sent by Elias.]</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
acolytes briefly consider contacting Erika Coriolanus, the sister of
expedition leader and socialite Rogal Coriolanus. However, it's clear
from Cadence's research (as well as the acolytes own local knowledge)
that Erika Coriolanus is a very powerful, very influential
individual. It's even commonly believed that she has the Planetary
Governor's ear. She may, in fact, be something of a power behind the
throne. Although they have Inquisitorial authority to speak to
whomever they like, whenever they like, they decide it would be
better to speak to Dame Coriolanus after they hear from Elias. While
they do not fear making an enemy of her, they realise that
contacting her with vague questions concerning her brothers fate
would be impolitic. They may need her cooperation later, when they have uncovered some concrete information.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Talk
turns to planning their meeting with Elias. Cadence tries to locate a
pictograph of the Rememberancer to make approaching him at the Space
Dock Terminus more feasible but finds nothing in any Inquisitorial or
public data-net. The acolytes spend the new few days planning the
Space-port operation, training and requisitioning more gear.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
When the
Silver Majestic docks at the Penumbrae Terminus five days later, the
Acolytes are waiting. Cadence has already interrogated the Terminus'
machine spirits and found that the Majestic is due to disembark 173
passengers. She attempts to persuade the Majestic's machine spirits
to reveal an image of Elias, but finds that Elias' file has been
mysteriously corrupted. The Tech Priest does, however, find
Inquisitorial finger-prints all over the seemingly “innocent”
data corruption. Incensed at this disrespectful treatment of so
ancient and wise a machine spirit, she conveys this information to
the rest of the Acolytes via Vox.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
acolytes decide that the Inquisition is doing a magnificent job of
covering Elias' tracks. But Zane wonders openly if this is the work
of their Inquisitor trying to protect Elias, or if someone else
within the Inquisition is trying to kill him. Either way, their plans
remain unchanged.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
So it
transpires that when the Majestic's passengers disembark from their
luxury lander at the Terminus, Cadence is waiting for them, complete
with a sign bearing the name “Jeremiah Elias.” Not because the
acolytes actually expect Elias to approach them, but in the hope of
provoking the informant into making some sort of furtive gesture than
will give himself away. Lementz and Gunnar are standing nearby,
watching the richly-dressed arriving dignitaries for just such a
sign. Meanwhile Cadence counts the new arrivals. 172. One short.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
Around
the corner, Ishtari, Grimoire and Zane are waiting. Heavily armed and
fully armoured in their newly acquired gear, they are a truly
intimidating presence. The perfumed and effete dignitaries who have
left the ship are too intimidated by the rosette badges they openly
wear to utter even a gasp of protest. Buxom, somewhat elderly ladies
swoon and blush when a dashing young man purporting to be a lord is
pulled from the crowd by the acolytes. But it's not Elias. It is
instead a somewhat infamous impersonator and thief named Eidipus
Flynt whom they drag into the back of the Inquisitorial Chimera
brought along for this purpose. Though he is not their real target,
his presence does give the Acolytes the pretence they need to board
the Majestic.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The ships
captain is an ancient and dignified figure whose double-breasted
ships-uniform is festooned with medals, ribbons and precious metals.
When he acolytes suggest they must interrogate the crew to determine
if Flynt has any accomplices among them he blanches and protests that
there are almost 14000 indentured crewman aboard the ship. One of the
acolytes wryly observes that the interrogations will clearly take
some time. The Captain tactfully points out with as much dignity as
he can muster that, while the Inquisition has the authority to
impound his ship and crew for as long as they like, there are a
number of very influential passengers travelling to other
destinations who might take umbrage at the inconvenience of an
enforced delay. The acolytes acknowledge this but seem unconcerned (they hadn't really been planning any such thing, after all). Instead they require the Captain's assistance in another matter. They
observe that 173 passengers were due to disembark, but one remains
unaccounted for: Jeremiah Elias.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
The
captain thinks for a moment, but eventually seems to remember the man.
It seems that Elias snubbed invitations to dine with the captain an
unprecedented three times during the journey from Shian. Three! The
captain is only too happy to lead the acolytes to Elias' cabin door.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
When they
arrive, they cannot fail to note the blood seeping under the door -or
the noxious odour of warp-taint eminating from within.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-65761094901053406132014-06-16T16:31:00.001+00:002014-06-16T16:31:30.472+00:00Dark Heresy Campaign Journal Episode 0.5<div style="text-align: justify;">
As soon as she recovers her wits, Ihstari shoots the poor, ruined piece of humanity on the slab. before her through the head. Lementz proclaims the vile surgeon to be bound by Imperial Writ and skips a beat when Zane adds "and by the Imperial Inquisition."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If the surgeon hears, it does not react. It slowly, and without any apparent race of concern, flicks the corpse from it's slab and begins sharpening it's tools against a whirring grind stone. It does no turn to face them. It does no acknowledge them in any way. Even when Zane recites the list of it's crimes and explains their authority. It simply cleans it's tools and waits.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
[<span style="color: red;">Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the rest of the party, Cadence (via Threnady) risks scrap-code infection to establish a secure link between himself and the Surgeon. Using tight-beamed codes of binary burst codes. Cadence starts to offer the Surgeon a deal. The Surgeon does not reply. But then, it does not sever the connection either</span>]</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After a few seconds, the acolytes hear a familiar hum behind them. The swing around and duck just in time to see the Mechanical claw deliver another human torso. A woman's his time. The claw deposits the woman on the slab and the Surgeon slowly, with great patience and dignity, returns to work.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">[Cadence continues to praise the Surgeon's work in the meantime and offers to broker a deal with the Inquisition]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This time, it's Gunner who puts the half-dead woman out of her misery. This time, there is a subtle reaction from the surgeon. I leans forward against the slab, it's back seems to heave under a small sigh -and the mechanical spider drops from it's back, scuttling forward to attack the acolytes. At that same moment, two Servitors burst from their cryo-tubes and engage them in combat. The Surgeon itself, meanwhile, simply summons another torso to work on.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ishtari, still wounded from before, screams out her permission for Grimoire to heal her even as she steps forward, flail in hand, to engage the Spider. Despite her combat training, she's down in seconds, cut to shreds by the flailing surgical limbs.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">[Second fate point of the evening]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Zane and Gunner turn upon the Servitors while Ishtari attacks the Spider-Servior with her nightstick and shotgun. Grimoire empties his autopistol into the thing even as he pulls Ishtari clear, but seems to do little damage. His attempts at Psykic healing fail dismally in the noise and terror of combat, frost spreads out in a wide circle around him, coating all the metal objects nearby. Fortunately for him, in all the confusion of the fray, none of his companions notice this grievous lapse in control. Meanwhile, Threnedy seems to be frozen in place, unable to move.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">[Still communicating with the Surgeon]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In a few frantic moments of combat, Gunner goes down again but Grimoire heals him enough that he can continue. From the ground he places his hand guns against one of the Spider-things many green, mechanical eyes and rattles off a burst. The hard rounds finally manage to pierce it's shell and rattle around inside, doing untold damage to it's various circuits. The thing collapses in a tangled heap.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Surgeon responds by activating a control on it's arm. Still with it's back to the acolytes, the surgeons slab and the platform on which it stands begins to rise. The ceiling above it parts, a hatchway opening up to reveal a machine-room above containing eight, small, technological pillars arranged in a circle.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Threnedy leaps onto the platform. The surgeon ignores it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Down below, the acolytes concentrate of fighting off the servitors. Grimoire and Gunner take pot shots at the Surgeon but the rounds simply ping off it's mechanical back. It still has not turned to face them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As the last of the Servitors fall, the platform disappears into the chamber above.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cadence perceives a bright flash of blue light and then static. Threnedy -and her connection to it- is gone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By the time the acolytes reach the chamber above, the Surgeon is long gone. The small chamber has no visible exits, and apart from a great deal of cabling and machinery, is featureless save for the eight small pillars arranged in a circle around them.</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-23080198718633660032014-06-16T16:09:00.000+00:002014-06-16T16:09:02.433+00:00Dark Heresy Campaign Journal Episode 0.4<div style="text-align: justify;">
The party turn, expecting to see another Skitarri (or even more Servitors) what they don't expect to find is a skinny, naked man with obvious poor quality augmentations raising his hands in the air and begging them, "Don't shoot".</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He has the look of an adept or scriviner about him. A simple data clerk.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Gunner and Zane stalk down the corridors towards him, guns raised, while Grimoire helps the injured, groggy (and unhealed) Ishtari to her feet. Lemantz meanwhile puts a solid round into the head of each fallen Servitor. Cadence meanwhile sets the dog on the skinny adept with the command to "hold". The adept is clearly terrified and does not resist when the cyber-hand clamps it's vice-like jaws around his arm.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The six acolytes push their way (and the adept) further into the room. Inside, they find a bank of cogitators along one wall, a simple desk with another built in cogitator and a simple coat. A foot looker looks like it might contain the adepts meagre possessions. A few motivational posters on the wall proclaims motto's such as "Blessed is the mind too small for doubt" and "From thy Labour: Joy".</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They party are tired, hurt and confused. They're in no mood for stalling. They make it clear what will happen if the adept does not cooperate. Threnaday wrenches the man's arm back and forth a bit to reinforce he point.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Adept spills, in more ways than one. The acolytes take a step back as a foul smelling puddle slowly grows around their feet.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You don't know what you're doing!"The man wails, "You'll kill us all. You'll kill everyone. She can't know you're hear" Zane is only just making head-way calming the man down when Cadence notices an auspex unit on the nearby wall whirr.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh no!" the Adept says quiely.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When the Acolytes turn to look, the Adept frantically lunges for something beneath his desk. Lementz shoots him, a single shot to the chest and the little Adept collapses with a scream. Cadence meanwhile, lunges for the desk herself, terrified of what she might find....</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's a bomb of some kind. Two arm-length transparent cylinders, linked by a valve at the neck with a metal-plugged nozzle pointed towards the rooms only window. Wide-eyed and terrified, the Adept reaches for it pathetically. The two liquids starts to mix in the valve, giving off a colourless steam. Cadence screams "Get out!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
While the rest of the Acolytes (with the exception of Lemantz) scramble for the door, Cadence reaches under the desk and tears the cables connecting the valve and the two tubes together. As she does so, the vari-coloured liquids drip down onto the wounded adept. In moments, his skin begins to bubble and melt, his mouth opening in a soundless scream.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's when Cadence notices her hand start to bubble and turn yellow."Out! Out Out!" she creams a game. Meanwhile Lemantz tries to scrape the stuff off of Cadence with a gauntleted hand. "Out" she screams again, pushing Lemantz towards the door and ordering Threnady to hold the dying adept in place.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With the others scrabbling back downstairs, Lemantz and Cadence run towards the kitchens. Cadence is gambling that the preservatives in the jars combined with her own mechanical augmentations will be enough to keep her alive. Cadence stumbles and runs as fast as her weakening organic form will carry her, leaving pools of dissolving flesh in her wake. Lemantz, trusting in her carapace to protect her from infection, supports the dying Tech Priest as best she can as they race down the stairs. Frantically, Lemantz begins splashing preservative over Cadence as soon as they reach the kitchen., noting as he does so that the gopey liquid on his gauntlets began to steam the very moment he started scooping water.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It works" she shouts, and Cadence is already lowering her fully body into the jar, pulling it closed behind her. She collapses against the cool glass of the jar, allowing the liquid within to fill her lungs even as the organic part of her brain starts to panic and thrash. She switches off her organic mind, allowing pure logic to take over and feels her organic parts relax.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dispassionately, over the vox, Cadence has just enough strength left to remind the others that they need to to cover her trail of dissolved body parts with the preservative before the organic part of her brain gives up an slides into blissful unconsciousness. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
[<span style="color: red;">In game terms, Cadence was in negative wounds by the time she reached the kitchen and lowered herself into the jar of preserves. Her character burned a fate point and I allowed her to survive. In fact, it was burning the fate point that led me to decide that the preservative gambit would work. Cadence's logical mind continued to play a part in the rest of the adventure, by taking control of the Threnady unit entirely for the rest of the adventure. Foreverafter, however, Cadence's "organic" flesh retains a plastic, rubbery look. As it were a poor quality synthetic substitute. Which it is. Ali seems pleased as it only serves to make Cadence look even more unnatural and disturbing than she does already]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The acolytes spend the next hour cleaning the kitchen and stair well thoroughly with preservatives to prevent another disaster in the Hive. Zane guards the stairwells and the lobby the hall time. <span style="color: red;">[The party seem convinced that their enemy is just waiting for the perfect moment to strike, but despite my dropping in a few false alarms], nothing happens]</span>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Eventually, the acolytes are confident that they have cleaned up Cadence's trail of decay sufficiently. Afterwords, they make their way to the adepts office again. Cadence orders Threnedy to open the door and he acolytes flood the place with preservatives, causing all the cogitator banks to short out. At this point, Cadence rejoins the adventure while occupying the freshly decontaminated body of Threnedy the cyber-hound.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Acolytes, sill expecting yet another ambush at any moment, return to the second dead Skitarri, claiming his armour, weapons and key-pass. They then proceed into the room which the Servitors emerged from and find it to be an auditorium complete with a projector unit and huge, off-white blanket acting as a make-shift screen. Zane and Lemantz go looking through the various titles on offer for anything incriminating, but simply find the usual motivational films such as "Work is Worship" and "Together we Serve the Emperor in our Toil". They even hit on the idea of checking the film currently in the projector, but it turns out to be yet another grainy recording of men at toil wearing fixed "don't shoot me, I'm really smiling" grins while they scrub radioactive waste from a plasma turbine.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Grimoire again reaches out with his witch-sight and confirms that the cold, dark void is directly above their present position. If possible, the acolytes become even more wary and alert at this news.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is when the Acolytes belatedly realize there are no stairs to the third floor. Instead, they make their way back down to the elevators on the ground [first] floor. For the first time, they examine the locks pads on either side of the elevators closely. Cadence quickly determines that both key-cards need to be passed through the locking mechanisms at the same time to access the lifts safely. She communicates this through Threnedy's inbuilt vox-unit. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Acolytes (wisely) are somewhat reluctant to use the elevators, recognizing them for the potential death traps they are. However, after thoroughly examining the lift car for signs of traps (wishing aloud for some explosives to blast their way in through the second floor roof) they take up position in he elevator, which they all decide to ride in the prone position.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is wise indeed. No sooner does the elevator stop moving at he third floor than a series of blades cut through the car itself from outside (the blades are built into the shaft itself, rather than the car which is why they were not detected during the inspection) at waist height followed thereafter by a visible laser beam, auto-fire and even a blast of flame. [Okay, I laid it on a bit thick for the players here. There was really just autofire but since they'd taken sensible precautions and none of them would be hurt, I added in the blades, the flames and the lasers on the fly. It got a few laughs so I'm glad I did. That being said, in retrospect, it probably defused the tension more than I would have liked. I had to work overtime on my descriptions to build it back up again before the final confrontation].</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"<i>The lift doors open to reveal a darkened chamber, pitch-black save for the eerie green glow of display screens, keypads and thin strips of underfloor lighting reflected from cold, dead steel. Hundreds, possibly thousands of organic and machine components -arms, legs, eyes, myomer cables, tendons, nerve bundles and muscles, dangle from hook on the ceiling, dripping slowly congealing blood or greenish-black ichor to pool on the floor with an ominous "drip-drip-drip". Metal runners like mono-rail tracks run across the ceiling, dividing the enormous room. The ceiling seems to extend for some hundred feet in the direction of the cold void Grimoire described but you struggle to see more than ten or fifteen feet ahead through the detritus of human and mechanical waste suspended from the ceiling.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Ahead, in the direction of the void, you can just barely make out a stronger, green illuminance emanating from the other end of the room. A faint mechanical whirring noise comes from direction as well. As you leave the elevator car, a shift in the cloying, moist air of the room alerts you o something approaching from behind. You duck just in time as a mechanical claw travels along an overhead rail at speed, a severed human torso dangling in it's grasp. As it passes, you are just barely close enough to see it's mouth open and close pathetically like that of a landed fish. I seems to reach out to you for assistance as it vanishes into the press of metal and steel viscera before you.</i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Acolytes advance further into the room, weapons held at the ready. As they stalk forward, they feel the fluids drip from the ceiling to run down their backs, their necks. Into their eyes. The metal limbs tink quietly against one another as they are pushed aside to allow the Acolytes their passage. The noise made by the severed human limbs, for that matter, is not worth thinking about.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"At last, you push into a cleared space at he end of the vas chamber. Before them they find a surgical table, not that dissimilar from the one operated earlier in the day by Sand himself. Strapped to it is the human torso. It reaches out towards them pitiably, begging for mercy even as it spasms under the surgical attention of the creature which stands before the acolytes, it's back to them. It's long, spindly form (far taller than is natural for an unaugmented human) is dressed in the badly soiled red robes of a Tech Priest. A strange spider-like apparatus adorns it's back, with dozens of thin, spindly arms bearing surgical tools, shears, pliers, wirecutters and spot-wielders orbiting around it's centre mass, occasionally swooping down like a striking snake to perform some function on the twitching mass of once-humanity strapped to the table below. As you watch, a relatively human seeming hand (human save for the twelve sharp, serrated copper blades that serve as fingers) hold up a human liver to the flickering green light above it. It examines it briefly for a moment, a green linear strobe playing over its surface, before casually tossing into a heap of similar organs in a small, rounded bucket to one side. A dozen, similar buckets, each overflowing past full capacity surround it. The creature, the vile, twisted.... surgeon before you does not acknowledge your presence in any way. I does not even seem to care that you are present."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-50283795166763302062014-06-16T15:05:00.003+00:002014-06-26T11:51:04.513+00:00Dark Heresy Campaign Journal Episode 0.3<div style="text-align: justify;">
...and Lemantz finds herself staring down the barrel of a las-pistol for the second time that night. </div>
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A brief stand-off ensures, exacerbated by the presence of the "gangers" that have caused so much trouble that evening. However, the various bodyguards present quickly lower their weapons at a soft voiced command from a new arrival.</div>
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Boss Luntz walks into the bar from a back-room, still belting a night-robe around his ample frame. Despite the late hour and the unexpected nature of his guests, the plump bellied, hairless gang-boss seems entirely unruffled. He takes a seat in a corner booth and motions for his visitors to approach.</div>
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The half dozen or so bodyguards adopt relaxed postures, leaning against various walls, tables and even the bar itself. They're not fooling anyone though.</div>
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Luntz begins with some genial conversation, offering each of his guests a glass of amasec and staring with some mild interest at the near-catatonic girl in their company.</div>
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"If she's meant as a gift," he adds archly, " I prefer them a little livelier". </div>
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They soon get down to business. Luntz mentions what a pleasure it is to finally receive a visit from Enforcer Lemantz, but he rather doubts that the "tight-assed" young Enforcer is here to solicit bribes. The group allow Lemantz to do the talking. She explains that she brought in a group of Bounty Hunters to help her investigate the disappearances when it became obvious that she couldn't rely on her superiors for help. She apologises for the earlier misunderstanding and realise now that she should have paid Boss Luntz a courtesy call to appraise him in advance. Luntz seems impressed, even going so far as to state he never would have believed that "tight-ass Lemantz" would have the balls, or the initiative, to do something as audacious as hire bounty hunters on her own. He doesn't ask where she got the funds, but he's clearly curious.</div>
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At this point, Zane steps in and adds that they have uncovered sufficient evidence to believe that it would be wise to call in "more guns". Luntz agrees they may be right and offers to let the group use his comm system if they do him a small favour: it seems that someone at the Alms House has been muscling in on his territory, selling drugs on his streets. He couldn't been seen to move against the Almshouse himself, since it keeps so many of "his" people fed, bu the characters......</div>
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The group try to persuade Luntz to let them use the comms first and investigate the alms house later. But then Cadence convinces the group to play their trump-card. At this, Cadence asks the guards to open to door as an associate is coming. The door is opened, and there stands Threnady, dragging a moving sack behind her.</div>
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When the group opens the sack to reveal what's been making the locals disappear, Luntz suddenly becomes much more co-operative. He lets the group use his connection to the hive data-net and moreover, he reveals that he was originally in partnership with the junk-dealer using the almshouse to distribute drugs. Moreover, he suspects that his mysterious silent partner might have a hand in the disappearances, since they began shortly after Luntz concluded the deal. </div>
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Luntz turns over his table and there, underneath, is a high-specced, highly illegal, military grade date-net terminal. Cadence rubs her hands with un Tech-Priest like glee and plugs herself in....</div>
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and screams almost immediately.</div>
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She manages to unplug herself before the scrap-code can take route, but she's hard to burn out the code hard-wired into several of her servos and sub-systems to do it. Luntz is angry to find out his system is completely corrupted, but horrified when Cadence explains that the corruption goes beyond that. The few nano-sections in which she was connected were enough to see that the whole district data-net, everything from the day/night sub-routines to the streetlights to the panic buttons scattered throughout the district and linked directly to the Precinct House are corrupted. In effect, the acolytes have no way to contact the rest of the hive.</div>
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They will to do this themselves. Shaken, Luntz agrees that if they can find proof of the Almhouse's involvement in the disappearances, he lead an assault on the place himself. The acolytes agree to his terms. Leaving Lilly behind, they set off in the direction of the almshouse, coming at it from the rear entrance.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvS7UtkIhuEM8S-qncoUh0YlNCKk1qIbRYQsxbLs6PJPkupVqUp7Zyc5pF1lctnq8eVwuROtX3ycKns7zHjJjut3aD4oxCxNVoT0Bj93BXSFfOL84pwqlYRj8zYnCRvj7u73Da3ySSL3c/s1600/Cadence+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvS7UtkIhuEM8S-qncoUh0YlNCKk1qIbRYQsxbLs6PJPkupVqUp7Zyc5pF1lctnq8eVwuROtX3ycKns7zHjJjut3aD4oxCxNVoT0Bj93BXSFfOL84pwqlYRj8zYnCRvj7u73Da3ySSL3c/s1600/Cadence+01.jpg" height="400" width="309" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cadence</td></tr>
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As they approach, the acolytes finally notice something odd about the hab-block containing the Almshouse [<span style="color: red;">They've been failing perception checks every time they look at the thing</span>] Only the first three floors of the hab-block are showing any lights. All the other hab-blocks nearby have dozens of floors, with scattering of lights on in each, despite the late hour. Only this block does not. All of the floors above the third are completely dark. Not a single light. Cadence hazards a theory that something inside the hab-block is drawing away a great deal of power. No one disagrees or suggests an alternative theory. Grimoire tries to get psykers impression of the place, but from this distance he can tell little except that there are a number of living beings within the Almshouse block, but none above the third floor. This strikes the group as very ominous. Even with the decline in population since the plasma leak, there should be dozens, hundreds of life signs present within a building of that scale. Instead, there is nothing. As they creep down the alley at the rear of the building, Grimoire tries again and discovers a cold, empty place inside the buildings. Somewhere near the third floor, he thinks.</div>
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Cadence is unwilling to interface directly with the machine spirit's that reside within the lock of the loading bay door but manages to open it successfully the old fashioned way. They find themselves in a green-tiled room, mouldy and dank smelling, with kitchen utensils stacked neatly on shelves (each with a thin patina of grime) and a rack of three, deactivated kitchen servitors hanging from the ceiling. Blood splatters the walls and tables, but it's old blood. Dried to a dark, almost black, shade of brown. A number of walk in storage units line one wall. Freezers and pantries most likely. A brown, syrupy goo leaks from under one of the freezer doors. It's undeniably the source of the odour of decay that permeates that corner of the kitchen. A pair of light blue swinging doors with two circular windows leads out of the room, along with a dumbwaiter big enough for Zane or Ishatari (without the armour) if they were inclined to squeeze. Gunner and Zane quickly move to the swing doors and peer out into a large refectory hall. The lights in the hall -and those in the kitchen- are still one. But there is no sign of anyone home. Just beyond the refectory, the two Acolytes can make out a small reception desk at the front of the building, with a dividing staircase and a pair of elevators.</div>
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Cadence and Lemantz open the leaking freezer. Inside they find a chamber of horrors -dozens of transparent beakers and jars containing a foul smelling amber liquid with various body parts and technological augmentations suspended within. Gasping, they quickly close the door and announce that they appear to have found the missing persons.</div>
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A brief conversation ensues (although all the acolytes are careful to keep their voices down) in which a consensus is quickly reached: this is not sufficient evidence to go back to Luntz. For all they know, they've simply stumbled upon an illegal chop shop. No one wants to think about the implications of finding all these raw, dead meat in the kitchen of a Almshouse. But Cadence points out it's the only place they'd be able to find a big enough freezer nearby. The fact it's in an almshouse could be coincidence.</div>
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The acolytes creep quietly through the refectory hall and into the reception area. They notice keycard slots by the lifts and a small cogitator unit built into the reception desk, beside an automated lexograph unit for printing data onto hard-copy. Cadence is reluctant to interface with the cogitators machine spirit directly, but is able to access a number of files using the slower and less-sublime means of her meat-body. She uncovers a number of disturbing files including a complete change of personnel in the days leading up the to first disappearances and a virtual notification from Tantatlus dated 28 days earlier that food shipments would cease immediately and the almshouse would be closed. Only a skeletal "caretaker" staff would remain to prevent looting.</div>
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Unwisely, Cadence decides to print these files to hard-copy. The result is a rucus. The Lexography machine whirs to live with a loud, grating grinding noise. Cadence works quickly , failing to switch it off but the damage is done. Although the acolytes can hear nothing over the infernal noise, Threnady warns Cadence of an approaching energy signature. The acolytes scrabble for cover. When the perfectly formed muscular man, naked but for a pair of briefs, stalks down the staircase and into the reception desk, several things about him stand out. Firstly, he is armed with a very expensive looking auto-pistol. Secondly, he clutches something indistinct in his left hand. Third, there is no way a normal human footfall should make the metal staircase shake like that.</div>
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At once, the acolytes open fire. The noise of the lexographer drowns out the sound gun-and las-fire, and the stranger is riddled with solid rounds and las-fire. Yet he does not go down. The acolytes can see the gleam of augments -expensive augments-beneath shredded skin. Without a sound, the stranger returns fire with startling accuracy. Zane is forced to duck back behind a door, fragments of shattered green tile erupting around him. A second round of fire finally manages to stagger the stranger, but it takes a third burst to finally put him down. Meanwhile, the lexographer goes about it's noisy work. Putting their faces close together over the body, the acolytes can just about have a conversation while Zane watches he staircase for any late arrivals.</div>
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Cadence is clearly impressed by the quality and expense of these augments. All the more so because of the cosmetic modifications made to them to keep them subtle. She identifies the dead man as having been outfitted with augments normally provided only to the highest ranking Skitarri bodyguards. After explaining that Skitarri are the Tech Priesthoods equivalent of the Imperial Guard, the others look suitably worried. They quickly loot the dead Skitarri's autopistol and the keycard from his left hand. </div>
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Suddenly, the racket from the Lexographer rattles to a stop. Cadence briefly peers over at the layered sheafs of printed material, but takes no other action. Taking advantage of the silence, Grimoire again reaches out from the warp. He confirms that the "blank spot" is on the far side of the building, and on the third floor. He describes it as cold and empty. He also confirms the presence of two more life signs on the second floor. The party cautiously climbs the stairs to find themselves in a long hallways running the length of the buildings. Doors alternate left and right all the way along the corridor, which terminates at ether end with another door. Adopting a suitable formation, the acolytes move along the corridor towards the end beneath the psychic blank spot. The first few doors prove to be empty cells such as that occupied by menial staff. One, however, contains a still warm bed with the sheets thrown back. Searching the room, they find an empty gun case under the bed along with a suit of carapace armour and a few overalls in the locker. The room is otherwise empty of personal possessions and contains nothing to hint at the personality of the occupant. They continue moving down the corridor.</div>
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As Zane reaches for the handle of the fourth door however, it opens.</div>
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Beyond stands a clone of the stranger killed below. Save that this stranger is fully armoured from neck to toe in black carapace armour. Before the stranger can act, Zane presses the barrel of his shotgun to the strangers head and gives him both barrels. Zane (and the room) are splattered with gore, brains and splinters of metal. [<span style="color: red;">No point rolling to hit or damage. Given the close proximity, the advantage of surprise and the two shotgun blasts to the head from an inch and a half away, the guy was dead. Skitarri or not.</span>]</div>
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The noise of the gun-fire triggers the opening of the door terminating this end of the corridor however, and two of the tracked Servitors race out and into melee with the group. Sister Sihtari goes down, hard [<span style="color: red;">negative wounds</span>] and is quickly followed by Gunner. Zane drops his empty shotgun and starts pouring autopistol file into the Servitor nearest him while Lementz gamely tends on the second servitor with her nightstick. Grimoire pulls the unconscious Gunner out of the melee and uses his psychic healing. The ganger quickly regains consciousness and starts blasting at the Servitors with his pistols from the floor. Zane fines a soft spot in the Servitors skull with his autopistol while Gunner and Lementz tear the second apart.</div>
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Grimoire is silently debating whether or not to risk Ishtari's wrath by healing her without permission when the door at the other end of the corridor opens behind them.</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-81435964050248673242014-06-16T13:54:00.002+00:002014-06-16T13:54:51.572+00:00Dark Heresy Campaign Journal Episode 0.2<div style="text-align: justify;">
PCs:</div>
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<ul>
<li>Cadence, Tech Priest Cyber-Handler</li>
<li>Gunner, Under-hive Gunslinger</li>
<li>Grimoire, Precocious Psyker</li>
<li>Ishtari, Novie Battle Sister</li>
<li>Lemantz, Hive Enforcer</li>
<li>Zane, Squat Cleric</li>
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NPCs:</div>
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<li>Thrandy (Cyber-Hound)</li>
<li>Lilly Arbest (Witness)</li>
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The acolytes rendezvous on the second floor, with Gunnar, Ishtari and Cadence each covering one of the stairwells. Meanwhile Zane and Cadence try to figure a way out of their predicament. Luckily, Cadence manages to spot a tattered looking mattress lying on top of a dumpster in the street outside when she peers out one of the windows at the top of a stairwell.</div>
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While the others hold off the advancing gangers, Zane and Lilly jump down to the Dumpster. By this time the gangers are clogging up the stairwells and have left none of their number outside. While Gunner and Ishtari wish for grenades, Cadence throws Threnady out of the window. In the ensuing combat however, both Gunnar and Ishtari takes wounds. Minor wounds yes, but enough to weaken them. They group stages a fighting withdrawal and soon only Cadence and Ishtari are left behind. However, at this moment, an enraged Ishtari charges into combat with her flail. Outnumbered, she is soon overwhelmed. Cadence drags her back and shoves her towards the window. The Sister escapes safely, but when Cadence follows, the Tech Priest injures her ankle. The group shuffle away as swiftly as they can, covering themselves with fire and maneuver, until they loose pursuit in the alleyways once more. </div>
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For the second time that night, they bind wounds, reload weapons and check their gear. Grimoire offers phyker healing techniques to the wounded. Gunner and Cadence accept, but Ihstari refuses to subject herself to the filthy touch of the Warp. Before she can say any more, Threnady lets out a long, low, mechanical growl. The acolytes ready their weapons.</div>
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Enforcer Lemantz of the Corcorla Precinct has been chasing gun-fire all night. While most of her colleagues had retreated back to the Precinct House to wait out the night-cycle in the same abject terror as they rest of the populace, she continued her solitary investigation into the disappearances. Or she would have, had she not received reports of a new gang trying to muscle into Coscorla. Though why in the warp anyone would want to take control of a dump like Coscorla was beyond her.</div>
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And that was what she was thinking when she rounded a corner to find a las-pistol pointed at her face.</div>
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A few minutes later, Gunner returned the Enforcer's weapon. Lilly had helped to facilitate an alliance by explaining that Lemantz was one of the few possibly even the only) member of the Precinct House that wasn't corrupt. She went on to explain that when she had first reported Saul's disappearance three weeks previously the Precinct Chief, Locan, had warned her to keep her head down and not go asking too many questions. She'd left to work a contract uphive soon after and had only just returned earlier that day to find Locan had joined the vanished. Lemantz confirms grimly that Locan failed to report for duty one morning two days previously, and that when she had visited his quarters she had found the door broken down and fresh blood staining the bed sheets. Since then, her colleagues have taken to locking themselves and their families into the Precinct House at night. Lilly adds that after she heard about the Precinct Chief, she realised that help from up-hive wasn't coming. That was when she decided to leave. She's willing to tell them more, but only if they help her get to the mono-rail station. Lementz is able to confirm that Lilly is in danger. She hasn't been able to locate anyone who has filed a missing person complaint for several days. It seems that those who report their loved ones as missing disappear soon after. When Lemantz tried to contact Lilly several days ago, without success, she'd assumed that Lilly had been taken as well.</div>
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Shortly thereafter, the group makes it's way through the quite streets to the mono-rail station. They encounter no more gangers on the way, but several times during the short journey the still night air is pierced by shrill screams in the distance. Once, Threnady seems to pick up a strange energy signature nearby, but on closer investigation the signature appears to have been lost.</div>
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When the party climbs the gantry to the mono-rail platform, Threnady stops suddenly, her heckles raised. Cadence signals the others to stop. Allowing her consciousness to commune with the Cyber-Hound's machine-spirit, Cadence see's through it's eyes and other senses. She is able to detect a number of large, humanoid, metallic shapes shambling through the ruins of the Terminus' building. But each shape is surrounded by a strange, foreign looking energy signature that disrupts the hounds auto-senses. She is unable to tell exactly how many of these humanoids are present in the Terminus. As she turns to the others, Gunner and Ishtari spot an eerie green glow coming through one of the shattered, greasy window panes of the building.</div>
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Cadence and Threnady go forward to investigate. Once closer to the Terminus, she is able to ascertain the presence of an oosphere, an electromagnetic field, around each of the figures. Opening her nodes for communion, she expands her own oo-sphere, hoping to learn something about the strangers.</div>
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Instantly, her nodes erupt in agony. She can smell the stink of melting metal as the very touch of the humanoids oosphere attempts to corrupt her own. She hears numerous, binary voices in her head. Each of them foreign. Each of them subtly wrong. Illogical. Number and Character combinations that are mathematically and theologically impossible. </div>
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Scrap-code.</div>
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She shuts down her oosphere within moment, managing to purge her system of the infectious code before it can take root. But while she rolls in agony on the filthy, cracked ferrocrete of the platoform, she hears bursts of binary static from within the terminus building. The platform lights wink out in showers of broken glass and blue sparks. Amorphous, shadowy shapes lit only by a myriad of greenish, electronic eyes erupt through the flimsy walls of the Terminus building towards her. Threnady grabs her by the collar of her robes and starts dragging her back while behind her, Cadence's colleagues open fire with everything they have. </div>
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Cadence manages to get to her feet and reach the others just before the scrap-code Servitors reach her. With frantic blows and a flurry of las and auto fire they manage to escape back down the gantry, where the tracked servitors do not appear able to follow (leading Zane to wonder aloud how they managed to get up there in the first place). Cadence, although still shaken from her near-disastrous experience with the scrap-code, enacts a cunning plan involving a bewildering array of cables and using herself as bait that leads to the capture of one of the scrap-code Servitors. Or, more precisely, it's torso. The tension of the snapping cable cuts the thing in half, and it's tracked mid-section falls to the caverns metal floor.</div>
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Hauling a near catatonic Lilly behind them, the group discusses their next move. Trapped, they realise that they have to summon help from the Inquisition. They turn to Lemantz for suggestions on how to contact the outside world. Lemantz explains that the district has not had reliable, communications with the rest of the hive since the plasma disaster several years ago. Few of the residents and only a handful of local organisations have been able to afford private links to the inter-hive data network. She supplies the following options:</div>
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<ul>
<li>The Precinct House itself, which the acolytes deduce is likely to be under close watch. Lemantz reluctantly admits that there is likely to be at least one traitor among her colleagues, given that individuals who file missing person reports tend to vanish shortly thereafter.</li>
<li>The Union. Lemantz explains that "Boss" Luntz, head of the local workers union has his fingers in many pies and is, in fact, the leading figure in what passes for the local underworld. All the local gangs work for him. It's possible that he is involved in the disappearances but Lemanzt doubts it. He is losing a lot of face in underworld circles for not being able to keep his own house, small as it is, in order.</li>
<li>The Almshouse. Lemantz explains that after the Plasma leak, House Tantalus ceased all of it's operations in the district (a disaster given that the majority of the inhabitants were indentured to the House). Pressure from other trade houses looking to one-up Tantalus forced it to maintain an Alms House to feed the locals. Lemantz has never seen it, but believe the Almshouse must have some means of regularly contacting Tantalus to order new shipments of food and clothing.</li>
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After some debate, the group decides that Luntz and the Union would be their best bet. They need to get the local gangs off their back so they can focus on the disappearances and what better way to do that than by making an alliance with their boss.</div>
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Hurriedly, the small group makes it's way across the square to the Union building. It's locked up tight, but the lights are still on inside. It's Lemantz who walks up to the security door and bangs it a few times with her nightstick. When the auspex unit mounted next to the door whirs in her general direction, she identifies herself and tells the gang boss to open up.</div>
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The door slides open.....</div>
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Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-63318884678406408852014-06-16T13:00:00.001+00:002014-06-16T13:55:16.347+00:00Dark Heresy Campaign Journal: Episode 0.1<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here are brief character bios and a quick write up and summary of our introductory scenario, a modified version of the published Edge of Darkness adventure. It's a very well written introductory scenario. It just needed a few tweaks here and there (mostly cosmetic) to adapt it to my style and the themes of the campaign.</div>
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PLAYER CHARACTERS:</div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: red;">Cadence:</span> A Tech Priest CyberHound handler, Cadence 's augmentations are fairly subtle. Her relatively few obvious metal parts are deliberately designed to be "aesthetically pleasing" by the standards of those who have not been enlightened by the Omnissiah. Handler of the cyber-hound "Threnady". <i>Played by Ali.</i></li>
<li><span style="color: red;">Grimoire:</span> Doubly cursed as an obvious psyker (due to his constant muttering of warding prayers) and void-born (due to his strange complexion and tall, thin build) Grimoire was recruited into the Inquisition due to his extremely high natural psi-rating. Were it not for his age when tested, his natural talent is so great he may even have been recruited for training as an Astartes. <i>Played by John.</i> <span style="color: red;">[Due to a randomly generated mutation, Grimoire starts the game at rank one with a Psi-Rating of 2]</span></li>
<li><span style="color: red;">Gunner:</span> A down-hive gun-slinger, Gunnar is big, beefy and proudly wear his Mohawk in gang-colours. Deadly with a pistol in either hand, he was recruited as an Acolyte after performing well as a hired-gun during an undercover investigation of his home-hive. <i>Played by Fiona</i></li>
<li><span style="color: red;">Ishtari: </span>A novice battle-sister of the Order of the Ebon Chalice, Ishari is considered one of the convent's most promising prospects. She has been ostensibly been seconded to the Inquisition for the completion of her training as a reward for her piety and diligence. Ishtari, on the other hand, quietly believes she is being punished for some transgression. <i>Played by Caroline.</i></li>
<li><span style="color: red;">Lemantz</span>: Perhaps the only uncorrupted Enforcer in her precinct, Lemantz joins the Acolytes mid-way through The Edge of Darkness. She has no idea she has been helping the Inquisition until the end of the scenario, when she is recruited by Sand. <i>Played by Niall.</i></li>
<li><span style="color: red;">Zane:</span> An extremely devout (and "<i>squat</i>") follower of the Imperial Creed and one of the few surviving inhabitants of a Space Hulk investigated by agents of the Inquisition. Zane was subjected to "purity protocols" after his rescue. He was thereafter permitted to join the Inquisition as an Acolyte. <i>Played by Stuart.</i></li>
</ul>
<br />IMPORTANT NPC's:<br />
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</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: red;">Explicator Sand:</span> Sand is a senior member of Inquisitor Scharde's organization and has been tasked with the running and supervision of the Inquisitors house-hold during his absence. As part of his duties, Sand oversees the recruitment and training of new acolytes. Given that Scharde himself has not returned to the sanctum for over 50 years, Sand has accumulated a great deal of personal power.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
EPISODE 0:</div>
<div>
The Acolytes are summoned to Sands' presence in the Apothecarium where they observe a grisly sight: the Explicator is surgically dismembering what appears to be a overly-large servitor unit. While he briefs the acolytes, he absently removes festering organs and dripping technological components from the corpse on the slab before him.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
It transpires that this subject, found wondering on a mono-rail line, is the remains of a missing person from the ill-fated Corcorla district of the hive. [<span style="color: red;">Nearly abandoned after a catclysmic plasma explosion some years ago, the district is dying and will soon become just another part of the dangerous under-hive.</span>] Hive explains that corpse, formerly one Saul Arbest, was unaugmented before being reported missing. While down-hivers being snatched as a cheap source of raw materials for Servitor production is not entirely unusual, something about this particular incident has attracted the eye of the Inquisition.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At this point, Sand leisurely tosses something small and round to Cadence, the most technologically astute acolyte present. The Explicator affirms that this particular implant is something new, a statement to which Clemence readily agrees. As a cyber-hound handler herself, Cadence is very familiar with sacred servitor technology. This is not a device she is familiar with. That means it is new. That, in turn, means it is heresy. Here-tek, to be precise.</div>
<div>
The Acolytes are provided with a list of recently reported missing persons from the Coscorla district, along with Bounty Hunter licenses (authentic, not forged), sample kits, and some cash for expenses. They are also provided with nearly identical armoured trench-coats, which Sand instructs them to wear to help them "blend-in".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On the mono-rail down-hive, the group discusses their options. Towards the end of the journey, they pass into a massive hive-cavern, the majority of which is eerily blacked out with only a few scatterings of lights in the distance. They pass through (and by) many ruined hab-blocks and empty mono-rail stations briefly illuminated by the passing lights of their carriage, all scorched and crisped by intense flames before the mono-rail finally reaches it's destination.</div>
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<div>
The last passengers on the train, they step out onto the poorly illuminated gantry for the Coscorla terminus. Below them, a half dozen hab-blocks tower into the "sky". Most are poorly illuminated, with lights that flicker, glow with a weak, sickly light or else do not glow a all. The cavern floor is some hundred fleet below them and a badly paved road leads towards a central square where a tawdry market appears to be in operation. Even from this great distance, they can see hat the majority of the dwellers in this district are dressed in rags. A large, long que of the most destitute looking residents forms outside a building that proclaims itself to be the "Tantalus Alms House". They also spot a "Tantalus Worker's Union", a small (poorly maintained) Templum, an Enforcer precinct house, a Hostelry of some kind and what appears to be a fully functional salvage yard.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As the Acolytes get their bearings, they notice a distinct drop in the levels of illumination provided by the few functioning street lamps. Being a hive-dweller all his life, Gunner recognises this as an indication that the night cycle will soon begin. The activity below clearly takes on a somewhat hurried pace, as the locals seek to complete their business and hurry home before dark.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Descending the rusty metal gantry, the acolytes decide to begin their investigations at the home of Lili Arbest, sister and sole next-of-kin to the deceased Saul. They note from the missing persons file that Lili is also the individual who first report the deceased as missing. As they move through the square towards the hab-block in question, they notice that they are gathering attention. A pair of black-armoured Enforcers sneer at them openly and begin moving away from the square towards their precinct house. Other residents give them fearful glances and scatter away from them, as if terrified to be in their proximity. It is at that moment that Gunnar and Zane spot several small groups of orange-clad thugs converging on their position. </div>
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Wishing to avoid a confrontation with the local gangs, the acolytes duck into the ramshackle Hostelry, where they are greeted by an unwashed, gap-toothed scare-crow and the distinct, rancid ammonia odours of piss and decay. The Hostel owner launches briefly into what he clearly imagines to be witty banter before noticing the small army of thugs gathering in the square. As he ducks down behind his counter, he frantically directs the acolytes to the back door. As they begin to move, a few shots boom behind them and shattered, dirty glass showers around them. </div>
<div>
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<span style="color: red;">[By this point, Zane has deduced that the local scum have mistaken their identical trench-coats as gang-colours. Gunnar realises he is probably right and kicks himself for not recognising the danger sooner]</span></div>
<div>
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<div>
The group ducks out the back door, taking cover in a filth strewn alley-way. With plenty of dumpsters, abandoned appliances, mattresses and even a few dead bodies, there is plenty of cover. When the first ganger rushes through the back door, Gunnar drops him with a pair of pistol shots to the belly. Thereafter, the brief gun-fight is punctuated by the thrashing and screaming of the dying ganger as he slowly bleeds out in the doorway. A second ganger, this one barely older than a boy, is brought down by Ishtari with a shot to the neck. Grimoire claims a third as the ganger takes aim of the window. But by then, someone with brains (and authority) has clearly arrived. Gangers begin breaking windows on higher floors for elevation and better fire-lanes while booted impacts resound from neighbouring allies. Realising they are about to be flanked, the acolytes lay down an impressive amount of covering fire and leg-it. Although Grimoire and Ishtari both take las-shots to their left legs during the escape, they manage to lose the gangers in the maze of alleys. Although the gangers have the advantage of knowing the terrain, the auto-senses of Cadence and her cyber-hound, Threnady, give the acolytes an even greater advantage.</div>
<div>
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<div>
Briefly, they consider ditching their tench-coats but decide against it. They are clearly going to need all the armour they have. And even without their trench-coats, their group is hardly likely to blend into a crowd. Realising that there is no longer any reason of secrecy, Ishtari removes her carapace from her bag (replete with Sororitas insignia) and quickly dons it. After a few moments to treat their wounds, the group consults their map and proceeds to Lily Arbest's hab-block. It's a bombed-out, graffiti emblazoned mess, with spent shell casings, dirty bandages and all manner of detritus decorating the lobby. The acolytes at first find this alarming, but Gunnar assures them this is all perfectly natural for this sort of hive environment. While the others remain in the lobby, watching the various entrances, Gunnar and Zane are nominated to investigate the apartment, purely on the grounds that they are the least outlandish of the group and therefore least likely to alarm their quarry.</div>
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Down below, Grimoire notes a ragged figure emerge from an alleyway and scurry down the street away from the hab-block. He thinks nothing of it.</div>
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<div>
With all four of the elevators out, Zane and Gunner climb the stairs to the third floor, stepping over a dead junkie on the way up Lilly's apartment door still retains a few flecks of green paint, but it's mostly just rust and bare metal. The frame shows signs of having been forced, but the damage is weeks old at least. Inside, they find a terrified Lilly, packing things in readiness to leave Coscorla for good. It takes some convincing, but eventually the girl agrees to talk provided the "bounty hunters" escort her safely to the mono-rail Terminus first. She explains that it's dangerous to move around at night (Gunner snorts at this.After all, it's the down-hive. Of course it's dangerous to move around during night cycle) but the girl explains, "No. It's really dangerous to move around at night now. People have been disappearing."</div>
<div>
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<div>
Zane and Gunner exchange a glance, and vox the others to tell them they're coming down stairs. Grimoire voxes back and tells them not to bother. They're coming up. The gangers have arrived.</div>
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Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-82655202459782796272014-06-10T18:11:00.000+00:002014-06-16T16:32:20.162+00:00Silenced Voices: Session One Handouts<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few weeks ago we finished the "tutorial" adventure I'd been running for our online Dark Heresy Campaign. Now that we've learned the rules together (more or less) and the players are comfortable with their characters we're about to start the campaign proper. I'll get a write up of our introductory adventure posted soon. But for now, here are the handout's the players will be needing tonight:</div>
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<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #990000;">The Coriolanus Expedition:</span></h3>
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The following date intercepts have been re-classified for your security clearance. Not for dissemination outside the offices of the Holy Inquisition.</div>
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Intercepted Secure Vox Communication</div>
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Penumbra System Traffic</div>
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Classified Magenta</div>
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919.M41</div>
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Lord Rogal Coriolanus - our feted explorer and libertine- is leaving Penumbra next cycle to investigate pre-Imperial ruins on Pharos. You've all seen the delicious articles he's uncovered in the vice-dens. Who can doubt he'll discover something equally licentious in the sands of Pharos?</div>
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Exerpt from local scream-sheet, "The Rubiantum Pillar Riposte" 919.M41</div>
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Coriolanus Expedition Embarks for Tabula Rosa aboard the Imperial Standard, a vessel chartered from the Rogue Trader Penhew Dynasty. Contrary to earlier reports, the expedition will conduct research in the data-stacks of the Penhew Archives before continuing on to Pharos.</div>
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Conscientious members of hive society will have attended- and remember- the enormous gala hosted by Lord Rogal Coriolanus at the Astoria upon claiming his leadership of House Coriolanus at the occasion of his majority. Since then, he has been famed and celebrated as much for his loquacious behavior as for his fine intelligence and collection of pre-imperial artifacts.</div>
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Members of the expedition have been reluctant to reveal their purpose on Pharos:</div>
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Renowned explorer and xeno-archeologist Aubrey Penhew, a lesser scion of the famous Penhew line, is captain of the Imperial Standard and a specialist in delicate or dangerous excavations.</div>
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Dr Robertus Huscarl, a medicae of some renown (in certain circles of the hive), is a specialist in both human and -reportedly- Xenos psychology. A former medical-adept of the Adeptes Munitorium, it is difficult for anyone in society to comprehend the reasons for such a mans presence on the expedition, unless, of course, traumatic battlefield injuries are anticipated.</div>
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Hypatia Magnus, a photo-visual remembrancer previously linked to Corolianus, will act as expedition remembrancer and archivist.</div>
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Jacobius Brast, an intimate of Lord Rogal and respected life-guard of House Coriolanus, accompanies the group as a general functionary.</div>
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It is believed that additional specialists may join the endeavor at Tabula Rosa.</div>
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Ordo Heriticus Communication:</div>
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++++Classified Mauve++++</div>
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Thought for the Day: Idleness begets Heresy!!</div>
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[classified]919.M41</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
+Coriolanus Expedition has departed Pharos+ Adeptes Telipathica confirm Imperial Standard on vector for Death World of Mgabe+Coriolanus has suffered injury+</div>
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Intercepted Adpetus Telipathica Transmission:</div>
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+++Classified Mauve+++</div>
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+++Thought for the Day: Pain Directs Effort+++</div>
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+++From: Adeptus Arbites, Mgabe Precinct House+++</div>
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+++To: Lady Erka Coriolanus+++</div>
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Regret to confirm Coriolanus expedition two months overdue+Declared missing+Presumed lost+ The Emperor protects+</div>
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<span style="color: red;">Intercepted Adeptus Telepathica Transmission</span></div>
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+++Classified Mauve+++</div>
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+++Thought for the Day: The Emperor watches all+++</div>
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+++From: Lady Ekra Coriolanus+++</div>
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+++To: Major Domo, House Coriolanus+++</div>
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+++920.M41+++</div>
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+++ Have arrived at Mgabe aboard Penhew vessel Font of Life+++ Investigating possible massacre of off-worlders in North-Western Death-lands+++</div>
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</div>
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Intercepted Adeptus Telepathica Transmission</div>
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+++Classified Mauve+++</div>
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+++Eyes Only+++</div>
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+++Thought for the Day: To err is to fail the Emperor+++</div>
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+++From: Lady Ekra Coriolanus+++</div>
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+++To: Major Domo, House Coriolanus+++</div>
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+++920.M41+++</div>
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+Have located site of off-worlder massacre in North West Deathlands+ Remains of 28 expedition members located+ Local Arbites suspect Nandi tribesmen+ No off-world bodies located+ Nandi tribesmen confirm fate of following expedition members+ Rogal Coriolanus confirmed dead+ Aubrey Penhew confirmed dead+Hypatia Magnus confirmed dead+ Dr Robertus Huscarl confirmed dead+ Many indigenous tribal bearers confirmed dead+ No off-worlder remains located+</div>
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Adeptus Arbites Records</div>
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+++From: Mgabe Precinct House+++</div>
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+++To: Central Archives, Tabula Rosa Sector Fortress+++</div>
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+++920.M41+++</div>
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+++Thought for the Day: Retribution Is Justice+++</div>
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+Five Nandi tribal leaders executed with extreme prejudice+ Admitted guilt but refused to disclose location of Coriolanus off-worlder remains+ Implication that victims were ritually tortured/dis-memberd+ Can confirm departure of Lady Erka Coriolanus and Font of Life prior to trial's conclusion+</div>
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Intercepted Astropathica Transmission:</div>
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+++From: Jeremiah Elias, Shian City, Shian+++</div>
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+++To: Erasmus Kensin, Rubinian, Penumbra+++</div>
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+++925.M41+++</div>
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+Suspicions re Coriolanus Expedition correct+ Major conspiracy at work+ Meet at Irridium Rest House day after docking+Traveling on Silver Majesty+</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-35791854229497582672014-05-05T11:46:00.003+00:002014-05-05T11:46:50.483+00:00Crossed Genres: Dark Stryder and Rogue Trader<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://ts4.mm.bing.net/th?id=HN.608043266170620479&pid=15.1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dark Stryder Campaign Box</td></tr>
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Of all the many, many published sci-fi and space opera campaigns I've come across over the years, Dark Stryder was easily the best. With the old Living Force campaign series run by the RPGA a very close second (I only have the first two seasons of that in my collection at the moment though, due to hardware failure. If anyone has the rest of it, please give me a shout).</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Some of my favorite campaign ideas involve taking a campaign or setting from one roleplaying game and combining it with the rule-set for another. This is pretty evident from my current Dark Heresy campaign, which basically takes the players through the excellent Mask of Nyartlothop (or however it's spelled) campaign for Call of Cthulu.</span></div>
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In the same vein, I'd love to take the wonderful Dark Stryder campaign for D6 Star Wars and run it in the 40K universe with the Rogue Trader rules. Instead of being agents of the New Republic pursuing a Rogue Imperial Moff through uncharted space, the players would consist of a newly enfranchised Rogue Trader and his crew. </div>
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</div>
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So what are the elements of the Dark Stryder campaign that made it great? Well, first of all it drew upon the troupe style play experience of other RPG's such as Ars Magica. Every player had multiple characters so that no-one felt left out in any given scenario. If your main character was the Chief Engineer and tonight's adventure was a straight up combat mission, then you took control of one of the ship's Marine grunts for the evening. A good DM would even incorporate a cut scene away from the action so that all the main character's got a little air time, even if was just at the planning session or using the ships sensors to locate an incoming enemy. There were even whole adventures in the campaign specifically set up so that none of the ships command crew (the main player characters) were involved. Very similar to the handful of Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes that revolved around a group of minor recurring characters from the lower decks. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.desura.com/images/groups/1/3/2055/Warhammer_40K_Rogue_trader_1_by_henning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://media.desura.com/images/groups/1/3/2055/Warhammer_40K_Rogue_trader_1_by_henning.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rogue Trader Style Command Crew</td></tr>
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In the 40K universe, I'd take this further. Each player would control a member of the command crew, a Deathwatch Space Marine, and a pair of Imperial Guardsmen and lower deck crew. This would me to combine all the various sets of 40K RPG rules (Rogue Trader, Deathwatch, Only War and Dark Heresy) in a single campaign. I could even include one-off games where the players get to play the Renegade Moff (In this case, a Renegade Sub-Sector Governor) using the Black Crusade rules.</div>
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I think that was one of the reasons the campaign always stayed so fresh, despite it taking us about 18 months to play through (12 hour weekly sessions during term time). We weren't always using the same characters or playing the same type of scenarios. Or even at the same power level.</div>
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The second element was the theme of exploration and world building. It was, in essence, one great big sand-box to explore in the hunt for the Rogue Moff. With incomplete charts of the Kathol region (I'd call it the Kathol sub-sector in 40k) the players had to "fill in the blanks" as they went, purchasing, stealing or capturing parts of the sector map as they went. In this way, the GM kept some control over where the players could go from week to week by limiting their available options to just a handful while at the same time giving the players considerably more options than they would find in a modern linear campaign, such as an adventure path. In my opinion, they found the perfect balance between the two, with ever less than three of four options for which planetary system to visit next. It means that no matter where the players went, the GM could be prepared. It's much easier to prep for three possibile adventures than it is to prep for twenty from week to week.</div>
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Thirdly was the heroic feel of the game. The ship was on it's own. The sole representatives of the New Republic (or, in this case, the Imperium of Man). This mean't the stakes were big. Using diplomacy or force, the characters were able to gain local support against the renegades and even recruit new worlds in the Republic. In essence, they were gathering an alliance to take on the forces of evil. But on the other side of the scales, if they performed poorly or made enemies, they not only weakened themselves but risked driving other worlds into the renegade fold as well. </div>
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High stakes and high adventure? What could be better.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/35/75/fe/3575fec84a63f77b9e694d6cc52e81c5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="309" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alternative Command Crew</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
It would also be fairly easy to adapt all the existing worlds and adventures into the 40K universe. Very few changes would be needed. After all, the 40K universe is very much a kitchen-sink setting, with room for just about anything ever featured in sci-fi. Plus the interactions between the humano-centric and even downright xenophobic Imperials (the PC's) and the handful of mixed species and even purely xenos cultures encountered should make for good roleplaying opportunities. And as for the Dark Side of the Force? When, in the 40K universe we just call that Chaos.</div>
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The only complain I ever had about the Dark Stryder campaign was the frankly awful final book in the series. Rather than presenting a number of concluding adventures that tied up the campaigns loose threads in a series of episodes (like Season 4 of Babylon 5) the designers decided to cram everything into one long super-adventure. The end result was more like a series of jumbled notes and cool-sounding ideas rather than a coherently presented adventure. In fact, when I picked it up just a few weeks before we'd come to that point in the campaign, I'd expected to be able to run it after a quick read through or two, much as I had the other adventure packs for the campaign.</div>
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Instead, I had to break up the flow of the campaign (and lose some considerable momentum) while I basically re-wrote the thing from scratch. While the conclusion of the campaign was still a resounding success (high-fives and cheers everywhere) I can't help but think it would have been even better if we hadn't had to play a different game for five weeks while I wrote the ending myself.</div>
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If I ever get to run this campaign again (and if I do, it will be in the world of 40K) I won't make that mistake again.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="640" src="http://img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130927220513/warhammer40kfanon/images/0/06/40k%2C_Daughter3%2C_Rogue_Trader_Aidana_Skota.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="433" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plotting</td></tr>
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Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-34428678992324049102014-04-29T22:03:00.002+00:002014-04-29T22:08:41.742+00:00Solo D&D: Marius MarkelheyHad to cancel tonight's game of Dark Heresy. So I came up with the first of my solo D&D experimental game's PCs.<br />
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Normally, I'd go into considerably more detail with regards to appearance, background, personality traits and the like. But given that I'm going to have six different characters to keep track off, I've decided to keep things simple.<br />
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<span style="color: orange;">
Marius Markelhey, </span><span style="font-weight: normal;">1st Level Human Wizard</span></h3>
<a href="http://ts3.mm.bing.net/th?id=HN.608024157846897378&pid=15.1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="young merlin" border="0" src="http://ts3.mm.bing.net/th?id=HN.608024157846897378&pid=15.1" height="241" width="320" /></a><b>Personality Traits:</b> Inquisitive, Stubborn, Morose,<br />
<b>Background:</b> Youngest son (second child) and former apprentice of Lady Allande Markelhey of Fellcrest. Like his parents, Marius is somewhat single minded and devoted to the concept that a noble must get his hands dirty.<br />
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<b>Hit Points</b>: 23<br />
<b>Bloodied</b>: 11<br />
<b>Healing Surge:</b> 5, Per Day: 7<br />
<b>Initiative:</b> +6<br />
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<b>Defenses:</b> AC:14 Fort:12 Ref:12 Will:15<br />
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<b>Stats: </b>Str 11 (0), Dex 14 (+2), Con 13 (+1), Int 18 (+4), Wis 13 (+1), Cha 10 (+0)<br />
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<b>Basic Melee Attack</b>: +2 (Dagger), Damage D6<br />
<b>Basic Ranged Attack:</b> Magic Missile (see below)<br />
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<b>Speed:</b>6<br />
<b>Languages</b>: Common, Draconic<br />
<b>Unaligned</b><br />
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<b>Racial Bonus:</b> One Extra at-Will Power, Extra feat, Extra trained skill, +1 to Fort, Will and Ref.<br />
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<b>Class Features</b>: Cantrps, Spellbook (Extra Daily Spell), Wand of Accuracy (+2 to one attack roll once per encounter when using wand), Ritual Casting.<br />
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<b>Feats:</b> Expanded Spell Book (additional Daily Spell added to Spellbook), Improved Initiative (already included), Ritual Casting.<br />
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<b>Skills:</b> Acrobatics +2, Arcana +9, Athletics +0, Bluff +0, Diplomacy +6, Dungeoneering +6, Endurance +1, Heal +1, History +9, Insight +1, Intimidate +0, Nature +6, Perception +1, Stealth +2, Streetwise +0, Thievery +2<br />
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<b>Gear</b>: Dagger, Wand, Backpack, Bedroll, Flint and Steel, two Sunrods, 10 days rations, 50ft rope, waterskin, spellbook, 23gp.<br />
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Powers:</h3>
<b>At-Will Powers:</b><br />
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<b>Ghost Sound </b>At Will)<br />
With a wink, you create an illusory sound that emanates from somewhere close by.<br />
At-Will ✦ Arcane, Illusion<br />
Standard Action Ranged 10<br />
Target: One object or unoccupied square<br />
Effect: You cause a sound as quiet as a whisper or as loud as a yelling or fighting creature to emanate from the target. You can produce nonvocal sounds such as the ringing of a<br />
sword blow, jingling armor, or scraping stone. If you whisper, you can whisper quietly enough that only creatures adjacent to the target can hear your words.<br />
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<b>Light</b> (At Will)<br />
With a wave of your hand, you cause a bright light to appear on the tip of your staff, upon some other object, or in a nearby space.<br />
At-Will ✦ Arcane<br />
Minor Action Ranged 5<br />
Target: One object or unoccupied square<br />
Effect: You cause the target to shed bright light. The light fills the target’s square and all squares within 4 squares of it. The light lasts for 5 minutes. Putting out the light is a<br />
free action.<br />
Special: You can have only one light cantrip active at a time. If you create a new light, your previously cast light winks out.<br />
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<b>Magic Missile </b>(At Will)<br />
You launch a silvery bolt of force at an enemy.<br />
At-Will ✦ Arcane, Force, Implement<br />
Standard Action Ranged 20<br />
Target: One creature<br />
Attack: +4 vs. Reflex<br />
Hit: 2d4 + 4 force damage.<br />
Special: This power can be used to make ranged basic attacks.<br />
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<b>Ray of Frost</b> (At Will)<br />
A blisteringly cold ray of white frost streaks to your target.<br />
At-Will ✦ Arcane, Cold, Implement<br />
Standard Action Ranged 10<br />
Target: One creature<br />
Attack: +4 vs. Fortitude<br />
Hit: 1d6 + 4 cold damage, and the target is slowed until the end of your next turn.<br />
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<b>Scorching Burst</b> (At Will)<br />
A vertical column of golden flames burns all within.<br />
At-Will ✦ Arcane, Fire, Implement<br />
Standard Action Area burst 1 within 10 squares<br />
Target: Each creature in burst<br />
Attack: +4 vs. Reflex<br />
Hit: 1d6 + 4 fire damage.<br />
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<h3>
Encounter Power</h3>
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<b>Burning Hands</b> (Encounter)<br />
A fierce burst of flame erupts from your hands and scorches nearby foes.<br />
Encounter ✦ Arcane, Fire, Implement<br />
Standard Action Close blast 5<br />
Target: Each creature in blast<br />
Attack: +4 vs. Reflex<br />
Hit: 2d6 + 4 fire damage.<br />
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<h3>
Daily Power</h3>
<b>Acid Arrow</b> (Daily)<br />
A shimmering arrow of green, glowing liquid streaks to your target and bursts in a spray of sizzling acid.<br />
Daily ✦ Acid, Arcane, Implement<br />
Standard Action Ranged 20<br />
Primary Target: One creature<br />
Attack: +4 vs. Reflex<br />
Hit: 2d8 + 4 acid damage, and ongoing 5 acid damage (save ends). Make a secondary attack.<br />
Secondary Target: Each creature adjacent to the primary target<br />
Secondary Attack: +4 vs. Reflex<br />
Hit: 1d8 + 4 acid damage, and ongoing 5 acid damage (save ends).<br />
Miss: Half damage, and ongoing 2 acid damage to primary target (save ends), and no secondary attack.<br />
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<b>Sleep</b> (Daily)<br />
You exert your will against your foes, seeking to overwhelm them with a tide of magical weariness.<br />
Daily ✦ Arcane, Implement, Sleep<br />
Standard Action Area burst 2 within 20 squares<br />
Target: Each creature in burst<br />
Attack: +4 vs. Will<br />
Hit: The target is slowed (save ends). If the target fails its first saving throw, the target falls asleep (save ends).<br />
Miss: The target is slowed (save ends).<br />
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<b>Flaming Sphere</b> (Daily)<br />
You conjure a rolling ball of fire and control where it goes.<br />
Daily ✦ Arcane, Conjuration, Fire, Implement<br />
Standard Action Ranged 10<br />
Target: One creature adjacent to the flaming sphere<br />
Attack: Intelligence vs. Reflex<br />
Hit: 2d6 + Intelligence modifier fire damage.<br />
Effect: You conjure a Medium flaming sphere in an unoccupied square within range, and the sphere attacks an adjacent creature. Any creature that starts its turn next to the flaming sphere takes 1d4 + Intelligence modifier fire damage. As a move action, you can move the sphere up to 6 squares.<br />
Sustain Minor: You can sustain this power until the end of the encounter. As a standard action, you can make another attack with the sphere.Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-65324046778874078422014-04-28T20:46:00.001+00:002014-04-28T20:46:45.838+00:00Solo 4e D&D: Creating the Party<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="640" src="http://www.arthistory.cc/pics/larryelmore/8.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="434" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If this isn't the most iconic "party portrait" of second edition AD&D I don't know what is.</td></tr>
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I've had a chance now to have a good think about the classes and races I'd like to see in the party, as well as the balance of party "roles". I originally considered simply choosing a party from the various pre-generated first level characters published in the 4e Starter Pack or the various Gen Con demo modules. However, I find it very hard to become emotionally invested in my own characters at the best of times (having been hardened over the years by seeing so many carefully crafted and beloved NPC's fall to bloodthirsty player characters) so I think I would have a hard time valuing the imaginary lives of a bunch of pre-gens. </div>
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Given that part of this experiment is to see if it's actually possible to become emotionally invested in PC's when you control a whole party of them in a solo game, I think that using pre-gens would ultimately undermine the whole exercise. So over the next week or so, I'm going to try to create and publish a player character every night starting on Wednesday (I'm running Dark Heresy tomorrow).</div>
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I've decided on the following mix of party roles in my party of six: 2 Defenders, 2 Leaders/Healers, 1 Striker, 1 Controller. Why six characters when five is recommended as the base party size for 4e? Well, I grew up playing in six-player tournament teams while at high-school. On top of that, all the old 2e AD&D computer games from SSI involved six characters (except for those "Eye of the Beholder£ style abominations). Even the Bard's Tale II, the first ever computer PC game I owned, featured a party of six. I can't remember the names of the entire starting party in BTII, mind you. But I know there was a Monk called Marcus and a Paladin called Balin or something similar. Of course, I used to change <i>his</i> name to Brian.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUBt3GMQzAozp88m62ml-mWHxhbUp569nOY4vXjc2yUktSzEQQIyzRyiC4eHhxbdFQXlNzsXf8K0jUvoxLQ6Sc0TDHN4sbJfzzigdOOoYNvFXGAlWqMDuErXdLvIvhAJCKJO3BUFReuYNX/s400/ad&d-party.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another iconic AD&D 2e image</td></tr>
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My allocation of party roles might seem a bit odd. The 4e Player's Strategy Guide recommends just one Defender per party, but I've played World of Warcraft often enough to understand the value of taking an off-tank along on six-man raids. Likewise, you can never have too many healers. Only having one Striker will limit the teams damage output quite a bit though, so I expect fights will end up being more drawn out (and therefore possibly negate the advantage of having the extra healer). As for the controller? A party really needs only one. Otherwise I risk handicapping myself in Dungeon environments by having too many persistent Area of Effects in play at once. Most five man party's seem to end up with two Strikers and even a fair number of the six person party's I've seen in other people's games have fielded three. Quite sensible really, given that the faster you put the bad-guys down, the less damage they'll do. But I do like to make things hard for myself.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="250" src="http://dungeonsmaster.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/d_d_4.0_party_art.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
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Finally, here are the character classes and races I settled on. Given how much thought I put into deciding how many of each party role I wanted, you'd probably expect that I would put as much though into choosing complementary races and classes. Or even min-maxing class-race combos for each character. But nah. I basically picked them on the basis of what I thought would be cool to play.</div>
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So we will have:</div>
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Dwarf Cleric (Leader/ Primary Healer)</div>
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Human Runesmith (Leader/ Alternative Healer)</div>
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Goliath Fighter (Defender/Tank)</div>
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Eladrin Swordmage (Defender/Off-Tank)</div>
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Tiefling Sorcerer (Striker)</div>
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Human Wizard (Controller)</div>
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Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-44174613853547733912014-04-27T22:08:00.000+00:002014-04-27T22:08:09.567+00:00Playing Solo: D&D 4th ed.<br />
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<a href="http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/4/48/Han_Solo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="328" src="http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/4/48/Han_Solo.jpg" width="400" /></a>One of the most common criticisms (and there were many) abot 4th ed D&D was that it played more like a boardgame or a MMO than an actual roleplaying game. Now while 4th ed D&D had it's good points, I happened to subscribe to this school of thought myself. However, when I first read through the Players Handbook, I stopped and thought to myself: "this would work really well as a solo board- game. Like fighting fantasy on steroids." And when I say "solo", I mean <i>solo</i>. Not one player and one DM (though that might work too), I mean just one person. One player, who is also the DM.</div>
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One big stumbling block to playing RPG's as a solo game in the past has always been the roleplaying aspect that is central to the game. How do you roleplay with yourself? Well, the much derided "skill challenge" system sorts this out by letting the dice, and the character's skills, sort that out. If the dice rolls succeeds, the character says something charming and pertinent. If it fails, he doesn't. Simple.</div>
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<a href="http://paperdragon.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/classes_races.jpg?w=640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="http://paperdragon.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/classes_races.jpg?w=640" width="400" /></a></div>
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The lack of suspense was also a problem in the past. After all, if you read through the book to DM for yourself, where are the surprises? You know where the treasure/secret door/solution to the puzzle can be found. Again, the skill system comes into play here. The PC's pass a secret door, you roll their perception skill to see if they notice it any cues that such a thing might be present as they pass by. Then you make another dice roll to determine if they do find something if they do decide to check.</div>
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A further complication is the prospect of bias. Are you really going to give the monsters an even break when you've invested so much time in creating and developing not just one character, but several? In this case, it's the structure of the published adventures that will help us out here. Most of the published 4e adventures include a tactics section for each encounter. So long as I stick with playing the monster tactics "as written" I can't be accused of any bias, can I?</div>
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<a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6150/6011252027_198f1ec332_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6150/6011252027_198f1ec332_b.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>
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Given all these factors, I think that D&D 4th ed has a real shot at working as a solo game. So, although my schedule is hectic and I'm unlikely to play often, I'm going to give it a go over the next few months. And I'll chronicle my experiences here on the blog.</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-19913393088819649892014-04-02T20:01:00.003+00:002014-04-02T20:01:40.151+00:00Dark Heresy Update<div style="text-align: justify;">
We've been playing for nearly a month now, but, due to the short duration of our Google Hangout sessions (combined with a couple of sessions of severely curtailed length) the party are still playing through the introductory adventure.</div>
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We've got an interesting selection of characters, with a good mixture of careers: a Sister of Battle, a Psyker, a Preacher, a Scum, an Arbiter and a Tech Priest Cyber-dog handler.</div>
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I'm still waiting on a few background paragraphs and photographs for one or two characters. Once they're in, I'll formally introduce you all to the party. Shortly thereafter, I'll write up the first adventure report chronicling our adventures. Due to the short duration of our sessions, I won't be doing a session by session write up. At least not initially. Once the introductory scenario has ended and we're into the campaign proper I'l publish write-ups more frequently.</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-74733502670865918712014-03-04T18:40:00.004+00:002014-03-04T18:40:50.912+00:00Silenced Voices 2.0: A Dark Heresy Campaign<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7839065057204490095" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; position: relative; width: 586px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLgQXqGciiyWj9iKqXsA6Z9nkLVkygCVG4-CNdU8z2s9qva6u1dKz8r9ybu07mHDR0mCkqzkJmCHfSBjZTTtzbgNv1qn7_3MpEtuXSkCd1cE0bpQGtg6IrRD2cWb0PjIfKtEbFZMt-fM/s1600/DH+Heresy+Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><br /><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLgQXqGciiyWj9iKqXsA6Z9nkLVkygCVG4-CNdU8z2s9qva6u1dKz8r9ybu07mHDR0mCkqzkJmCHfSBjZTTtzbgNv1qn7_3MpEtuXSkCd1cE0bpQGtg6IrRD2cWb0PjIfKtEbFZMt-fM/s400/DH+Heresy+Logo.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><br />This is a reboot of an old campaign that never really got off the ground. After our play-test of Stuart Marshall's new Mega-Dungeon project, the group decided we didn't want to be a temporary collection of play-testers after all. So, I've blown the dust off my old notes. Time for a reboot.<br /><br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>Player's Introduction:</b></span><br />"Your contact is late. Three hours late. Intelligence indicates he is residing in room 4306, on the thirty-first floor of the Irridium Rest House. It is outside this door that you stand. Now. Looking at the shattered mag-lock slowly melting melting into the floor. Wondering at the smell of blood. The ozone of warp-taint lingering in the air. Behind the closed door, you can hear the faint sounds of movement. Something unnatural occurs within..."<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkeEeAxHtYaz052uFJ3uxmeOkH-v9UIkLHcseE44LfoHjdqs9Md7ezCUaGkpSLzZyOhOXdxohGAsvzpQwAQw5g0xtTWDUbAecp0G8eQBAt2AHI1m9agu59cT2gzxQ9lfwvBl8t0dZPWA/s1600/Apartment+Door.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkeEeAxHtYaz052uFJ3uxmeOkH-v9UIkLHcseE44LfoHjdqs9Md7ezCUaGkpSLzZyOhOXdxohGAsvzpQwAQw5g0xtTWDUbAecp0G8eQBAt2AHI1m9agu59cT2gzxQ9lfwvBl8t0dZPWA/s400/Apartment+Door.bmp" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #bf9000;"></span></b><br /><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">The Crone Sector:</span></b><br /><span style="background-color: #bf9000;"></span>The setting will be the Crone Sector, in the galactic south east. A newly re-conquered Sector, returned to the Imperial Fold a scant fifty years before, it lies on the very edge of Imperial Space . The Inquisition keeps the Imperium's newly-conquered subjects extremely ignorant (even by the standards of the Imperium) or other worlds within the Sector.<br /><br />Only the handful of Chartist captains (and a good half-dozen Rogue Traders) operating within the Sector have any real comprehension of the Imperium beyond their home world.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnu2uXOpSbSyauYhYEgcsdbadTY8hrMM9A38wg1wWtDPNPn_BtLsdOwOLqx0npCCPxeMt81RsNg3xBZQge31GqYNxS3IJIYvi0TZLmGgj6fTzjKg4Mf0kQ442MDeM0y1-G8m9LK8UkaE/s1600/Pandora%252C+Inquisitor+Shard%2527s+Personal+Flagship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnu2uXOpSbSyauYhYEgcsdbadTY8hrMM9A38wg1wWtDPNPn_BtLsdOwOLqx0npCCPxeMt81RsNg3xBZQge31GqYNxS3IJIYvi0TZLmGgj6fTzjKg4Mf0kQ442MDeM0y1-G8m9LK8UkaE/s400/Pandora%252C+Inquisitor+Shard%2527s+Personal+Flagship.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">The Voidship Penumbra's Ghost</td></tr>
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<br /><br /><b></b><b></b><br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>The Sanctum Invigilus:</b></span><br />The Sanctum is a modest manor house in the mid-levels of the Central Spire in the Rubiantum Mega-Hive of the twilight-shrouded world of Penumbra. Although none of the Acolytes are aware of it's exact location, it a small but significant location in Shard's net-work and the operational base of Shard's cell-network on Penumbra.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAlAOV6IQPxOiSULJUwxIDxOx2FdlYfsE_ib5zleupWqyteHkD7n69zPSwZAmlAR2x9rQPw7AMZAtouL9AIe61XBQFcpUUfx1r3iuSW4qXpVdU7JCZE2emvR5YwOijN5MCdMqWGAXiJA/s1600/Penumbra+Hive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAlAOV6IQPxOiSULJUwxIDxOx2FdlYfsE_ib5zleupWqyteHkD7n69zPSwZAmlAR2x9rQPw7AMZAtouL9AIe61XBQFcpUUfx1r3iuSW4qXpVdU7JCZE2emvR5YwOijN5MCdMqWGAXiJA/s400/Penumbra+Hive.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">Rubiantium Hive, Penumbra.</td></tr>
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It is here that the Acolytes received their brief, orientation training. It is the (some-times) home of Inquisitor Shard (albeit not for nearly half-a-century) and the dwelling place of their "handler", Explicator Sand, the Inquisitor's Senior Interrogator.<br /><br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>Inquisitor Shard:</b></span><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0PddZYHYm4pq-GwTtGA5pv7auqikbhIeIoLHuLA5c4OB9RKDz8SjQClq2xO5k4o1J7mWpZuftFjfXJ3wZOg9CGNOfB2G-3fHciiA6p4g3K2atfzcvHGEHi5Is5lwEuOplXcpfTvFZqY/s1600/Inquisitor+Shard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0PddZYHYm4pq-GwTtGA5pv7auqikbhIeIoLHuLA5c4OB9RKDz8SjQClq2xO5k4o1J7mWpZuftFjfXJ3wZOg9CGNOfB2G-3fHciiA6p4g3K2atfzcvHGEHi5Is5lwEuOplXcpfTvFZqY/s400/Inquisitor+Shard.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">Inquisitor Sharde, according to a 50 year old Portrait in the Sanctum</td></tr>
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A shadowy figure, Shard rarely allows his acolytes to meet with him directly, instead operating through a network of "handlers" - senior Acolytes, Explicators and Interrogators<b>, </b>who carry out the actual field work while under his command. Shard seemingly belongs to no specific Ordos and directs multiple lines of inquiry simultaneously from some secret lair hidden deep within the shadows of the Crone sector.<br /><br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>Explicator Sand:</b></span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaUttCrNtMlNGk-EzkJ5qWe0MABZeKdkbCaaj2IWJasrDfi1WpXV6z92MSLEMWNwMCK8ot2ZetaMadgkghTzViCm9_jTwkuaerh90wV0_juJtEncW4KNdWPFY-AHVruo08_4gU0l21C8/s1600/Explicator+Sand+at+work.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; color: #444444; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaUttCrNtMlNGk-EzkJ5qWe0MABZeKdkbCaaj2IWJasrDfi1WpXV6z92MSLEMWNwMCK8ot2ZetaMadgkghTzViCm9_jTwkuaerh90wV0_juJtEncW4KNdWPFY-AHVruo08_4gU0l21C8/s400/Explicator+Sand+at+work.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">Explicator Sand enjoying work on his latest project</td></tr>
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A somewhat macabre and distant figure, Sand is the Explicator who undertook your painful (and invasive) induction into Inquisitorial Service. A former Munitorium Surgical Adept, Sand invariably dresses in soiled, blood-stained surgical gowns and green plastic aprons when conducting Inquisitorial business. He displays an unnerving and somewhat disturbing affection for his many surgical devices, knives and implements of torture, keeping them spotlessly clean while at the same time neglecting his own appearance and hygiene. Sand's voice is a silky velvet caress, somewhat disarming at times, but capable of discussing the most painful acts of torture in entirely dispassionate tones.<br /><br />The Explicator has never raised his voice in your presence, but you have heard whispers among the distaff that those juniors who raise his ire seldom re-appear as anything but the newest addition to his installations seemingly endless supply of servitors.<br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><br /></span><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>Sanctum Encounters:</b></span><br /><br /><br />Aside from the ubiquitous Servitors and Servo-skulls, a handful of pallid, aging former acolytes act as house servants. All are former Acolytes themselves, though many seem to have failed their master in some way, leading to their re-assignment and "retirement" to the Sanctuary. Their bitter pronouncements of near-certain death with regards to the Acolytes and their glee in laying odds on each individual Acolyte's chances of survival can be somewhat unnerving.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8HHaaaTC7BFQeslTo9038Z_Tez4LFpmIUWN1xJCETt2nLDdnCFYQdNb-vcMlfhR9DEeogL9Dsz-1XEU-QcDpSNt812Pnq18CS7FdGAVwEW7u5ybd-j0GNhZ0V-6KJ1MQwMWibGZ3LQY/s1600/Servo-Skull-Front2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8HHaaaTC7BFQeslTo9038Z_Tez4LFpmIUWN1xJCETt2nLDdnCFYQdNb-vcMlfhR9DEeogL9Dsz-1XEU-QcDpSNt812Pnq18CS7FdGAVwEW7u5ybd-j0GNhZ0V-6KJ1MQwMWibGZ3LQY/s320/Servo-Skull-Front2.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="299" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">Former Acolytes serve even in death</td></tr>
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Most unnervingly, each of these servants, male or female, bears an identical, grafted face. All without exception must be addressed as "Zorius". <br /><br />Other hooded Acolytes, hurrying too and from briefings with Sand occasionally cross your path. Communication between members of active Acolyte cells is, however, forbidden, upon pain of mind-wipe or surgical lobotimisation.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm2caf97H64CPSlSwbmfL7tc5_cNn_e6hGz6-m3rwt8EGMxTau9pzxcXiqd3q5P8g5SrgVBOZv6S_LCbNSpl0OB6ps4gcZpfQkcveSrtPOpU8HzcRG6mASEn8-wg-yf8wuwmQWcC-cdwU/s1600/Rosette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm2caf97H64CPSlSwbmfL7tc5_cNn_e6hGz6-m3rwt8EGMxTau9pzxcXiqd3q5P8g5SrgVBOZv6S_LCbNSpl0OB6ps4gcZpfQkcveSrtPOpU8HzcRG6mASEn8-wg-yf8wuwmQWcC-cdwU/s320/Rosette.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">Inquisitor Shards Rosette and Seal</td></tr>
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<br /><b></b><br /><h3 style="margin: 0px; position: relative;">
<b><span style="color: #bf9000;">Character Creation:</span> </b></h3>
Shard is know to despise conventional means of recruiting Acolytes to his service - having neither the patience nor inclination to recruit and train novices only to see them falter and die due to inexperience. Therefore, he draws his followers exclusively from veteran members of other Imperial agencies and Adepta, choosing those who have, through a combination of luck and skill, stumbled onto heresy and survived where others who chose to take action have not.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCpawfgv91WtmsAYUc7yiCnmUqEHaYzP2NWVCSogCfvNDfa2BK1VQbids-gqwUVx3ope8YZMTOXiHqwLHoWsKNdBnTVlKQ7mpBLUIY6oNzB7gd65Eyb2gvsCo8pl1XsrChiX8BdRuzjM/s1600/Character+Generation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #444444; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCpawfgv91WtmsAYUc7yiCnmUqEHaYzP2NWVCSogCfvNDfa2BK1VQbids-gqwUVx3ope8YZMTOXiHqwLHoWsKNdBnTVlKQ7mpBLUIY6oNzB7gd65Eyb2gvsCo8pl1XsrChiX8BdRuzjM/s400/Character+Generation.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10px;">An Acolyte Cell</td></tr>
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The Acolytes have faced heresy and adversity and survived. While they have been subjected to only the briefest hypo-indoctrination techniques, they are now sufficiently acquainted with Inquisitorial doctrine and practices as to be unleashed, under the careful observation and direction of a distant "handler", into the Crone Sector.<br /><br />Acolytes begin play at rank 1, with 400 points of experience to spend on creating their character.<br /><br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>Legal Books for Character Generation:</b></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-8Zn7tmiUPr-pgCw8VHQFKo6m1WPpp_TNFBzOzv9EQEp4Krv4DslSkMgJJh1loTdqVgYH7ow4yD5Tl4l94Zroy8-yq1qSGlWvCECH4iiM7TBiKhEqpXLAViuzomw1IkrcyGRehWwiCM/s1600/Legal+Books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; color: #444444; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-8Zn7tmiUPr-pgCw8VHQFKo6m1WPpp_TNFBzOzv9EQEp4Krv4DslSkMgJJh1loTdqVgYH7ow4yD5Tl4l94Zroy8-yq1qSGlWvCECH4iiM7TBiKhEqpXLAViuzomw1IkrcyGRehWwiCM/s400/Legal+Books.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #222222; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="266" /></a>The beginning character may follow career paths and acquire skills, talents and equipment made available in the following rulebooks. Purchase of Heretical items is not permitted during character generation.<br /><br />The Dark Heresy Rulebook.<br />The Inquisitor's Handbook (inc. Sisters)<br />The Book of Judgement<br />Blood of Martyrs (excluding the rules for Sisters)<br /> The fan-produced Commissar career path.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>Important Note on Character Backgrounds and Portraits:</b></span><br />Note that at least a paragraph of background information explaining how the character came to attention of the Inquisition is expected, as is a character photograph.</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-67508113348855271132014-02-21T00:24:00.002+00:002014-02-21T00:24:33.087+00:00Farewell to a Successful Campaign.<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, the OSRIC mega-dungeon play-test with Stuart Marshall has come to an end. Alas. Farewell Aggie, Erik, Thanatos, Njiall, Lan and Lysander. Farewell also to Skael, my first character in the campaign and also the first (and only) character to permanently die, the only other casualty having been raised from the dead successfully.</div>
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We've had a blast trying out the new Megadungeon as well as the new character classes and races that Stuart has developed for the game. I'm sorry to see it end. I'd love to be able to dish out some highlights, but I can't give away any spoilers.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvCyJ7BR3vYeRLo6ifrSYcP-8YoNjksFMbSao-ZGy4JYUXiuhO_cRa5Z0NEO4Yx2Kl8l7DPblRqNfvkgHGocOPsC2AjAsoOT3B7lYgUpeTdXrwsRLplukjKFr0oK1dfLy9Q84NUuBHKk/s1600/tavern-celebration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvCyJ7BR3vYeRLo6ifrSYcP-8YoNjksFMbSao-ZGy4JYUXiuhO_cRa5Z0NEO4Yx2Kl8l7DPblRqNfvkgHGocOPsC2AjAsoOT3B7lYgUpeTdXrwsRLplukjKFr0oK1dfLy9Q84NUuBHKk/s1600/tavern-celebration.jpg" height="308" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the end of a glorious campaign, only the fire-side tales remain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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My favorite moment in the campaign was the sheer delight of Aggie when she found a magical glowing rock. She kept that glowing rock all through our adventures together, and it saved our hide more times than I remember. There were other awesome moments as well, however, but for the sake of spoilers they will have to remain forever between the members of the group.</div>
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At least until the book is released.</div>
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It's always somewhat sad and poignant when a beloved campaign (as this one was) comes to an end. All the more so because this game was so well run, the campaign so well written, the group dynamics so downright awesome. It was the first campaign I've seen to completion as a player in decades, a real pleasure to partake in. Perhaps all the more so because it was one of the few games in the last fifteen years or so where I've actually been able to play rather than DM.</div>
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But with the end of all things, come's the beginning of another. Although we originally gathered as a group of play-testers, we all want to stay together and keep the group running. So I once again find myself in the DM's chair, and dusting off my old Dark Heresy campaign first prepared nearly a year ago.</div>
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I'll keep you posted.</div>
Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4494993840691690623.post-41743081654366260432014-01-13T19:00:00.000+00:002014-01-13T19:01:16.197+00:00Avalon CampaignGood News! Not only is the play-testing for a certain soon to be published Mega-Dungeon going extremely well (the party has now jumped from 4th to 9th level to playtest some of the important, "mid-game" parts of the adventure) but we're about to start a Monday night game as well.<br />
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One of the guys at my local wargaming group is starting his new AD&D second edition game tonight, and put together this great "concept" video to introduce us to the mood and themes of his home-brew campaign setting.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=824RubcOUaM">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=824RubcOUaM</a><br />
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I don't even know what my stats will be yet, but what I do know is that my character is going to be called Marcus Vibius Dentatus. The cognomen (sort of a hereditary nick-name) "Dentatus" mean's "born-with-teeth." Gaius Iulius Ceaser's cognomen meant "a fine head of hair", ironic considering he was balding at the time of his death. So yes, the term "Hail Ceaser" literally meant "Hail to the guy with the good hair."Lead Legionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12700198528204457272noreply@blogger.com1