>>2388769
>...satisfying. The galaxy is wary of not-likes, and my being is utterly alien to many of the hiring races, their prejudice sending me into battlefields against great odds. I have fed on worthy opponents. (+100 throne gelt, +10 Toughness, )

Hooray for murderbirb quest!

>>2388769
>satisfying

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>>2388769
I think back to the memories of times past, of the days of my youth when I had no Voices to help me. I was in a warband then, filled with fellow Kroots. Good-and-bad memories, but my memories all the same. It is hard to remember sometimes where I came from. Worrying.
What was I to the warband?

>Shaper. Leader. Guide-On-Feeding. Gifted by the ancestors with the ability to sense desirable traits within a potential Edible, it was I that led the warband into its many battles. (Gets more information on potential Edibles and their probable evolutionary result. Also +10 Fellowship.)
>Hunter-Scout. I am the eyes and ears of the warband. Without me and my kind, the warband would fumble blindly into a multitude of dangers inherent in this great wide world. (+10 Agility, one box to Stealth)
>Carnivore-Warrior. I am the sword of my warband. It is me and mine that serve as the backbone of any warband, and our knowledge and skill with the hunter-rifle is without peer. (+10 Weapon Skill, one box to Athletics)

>>2388790
>Hunter-Scout. I am the eyes and ears of the warband. Without me and my kind, the warband would fumble blindly into a multitude of dangers inherent in this great wide world. (+10 Agility, one box to Stealth)
Sneki breeki

>>2388790
>Hunter-Scout. I am the eyes and ears of the warband. Without me and my kind, the warband would fumble blindly into a multitude of dangers inherent in this great wide world. (+10 Agility, one box to Stealth)

>>2388790
>>Shaper. Leader. Guide-On-Feeding. Gifted by the ancestors with the ability to sense desirable traits within a potential Edible, it was I that led the warband into its many battles. (Gets more information on potential Edibles and their probable evolutionary result. Also +10 Fellowship.)
Eati Feati

>>2388772
>>2388784
>>2388769

The Hunt is satisfying. I have a decent quantity of "currency" the human-and-not employers gift me, and careful, selective Feeding has gifted me with increased endurance.

>>2388793
I am Hunter-Scout. I sneak. I stealth. I hunt. My silent ways have assisted me more than the foresight of a Shaper or the ferocity of the Carnivore-Warrior could, ever since I became alone. Kroot are not meant to be alone. Without a warband, I am not whole.

How did it come to this?

>I am the last of my warband, the rest butchered by opponents too terrifying to name. (Morbid: The character finds it hard to concentrate as his mind turns increasingly macabre and he becomes prone to tortured, gloomfilled trains of thought. Reduce his Intelligence by 1d10.)
>An obsession of mine was discovered by a fellow Kroot. This was swiftly reported to the Shaper, who promptly banished me. (Fell Obsession: This functions like the Obsession Disorder on page 288, but in this case the character is obsessed by something sinister or malign (such as collecting finger-bone trophies, ritual scarification, carrying out meaningless vivisections, etc.).)
>The weakness of my warband disgusted me. I left them to their inevitable doom, striking out for myself. (Dark-hearted: The character grows increasingly cruel, callous, and vindictive. Reduce his Fellowship by 1d10.)
>Other: Write something and then pick out one of the things from the Malignancy table on DH2e.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>2388804
>I am the last of my warband, the rest butchered by opponents too terrifying to name. (Morbid: The character finds it hard to concentrate as his mind turns increasingly macabre and he becomes prone to tortured, gloomfilled trains of thought. Reduce his Intelligence by 1d10.)
Feelskrootman

Kroot the tard

>>2388804
>>2388810
Seconding.

>>2388817
>>2388810
>>2388824

The night when your kindred were destroyed haunts me in waking and sleeping both. They were slaughtered like animals - not just the males, but the females and broodlings, too. Perhaps someday I will find solace by gutting those responsible. I can hear a Voice call me, "Kroot the Tard". It is an appropriate name. By fleeing when I should have stood my ground, I betray evolutionary faults. But does the blame not lie with the Shaper too for accepting that fateful contract?
Perhaps one day I will be powerful enough to avenge your Kindred. Show those responsible the colour of their own intestines. But today is not that day.

>Congratulations! You have -3 to INT!

I sit on the hard "mattress" of the miniscule room in a capsule hotel, somewhere in Imperial space. Fringe worlds like these are good for me - the humans want deniable assets, and I want work that provide me with good-genes Edibles. This room was paid for by my soon-to-be employer, though I didn't catch his name from the vox-communication. I have doubts that the fuzzy, mechanical voice from the other end was his true voice. We are to meet in two hours in a small cafe downhive.

>"Cafe? In the lower hives? Doesn't sound likely. I think I should get there early, scout the place out."
>Check the latest news from the television bolted onto the wall of the capsule
>Check inventory
>Write in

>>2388825
>avenge your Kindred
should be "my". Goddamnit, I thought I proofread it enough.

>Check inventory

>>2388825
>Check inventory

>>2388825
Check em
The inventory that is

>>2388829
>>2388830
>>2388831

I check my belongings, most of them still in the black lumpy bag, packed and mobile from my journey to this world. Captain of ship said it was called "John's Last Gamble". I laughed, Captain laughed, armsmen laughed, servitor laughed. Wasn't sure they could.

I headed straight to the designated capsule-hotel on arrival, mainly to recuperate and adjust to planetary local time. One of the worst things about mercenary work is the ever-shifting sense of time. Some worlds have thirty Terran Standard hours per day, others even longer. The Gamble is close to Terran Standard - a twenty-six hour day cycle. I am well-rested.

The bag - Captain called it, "immigrant-bag" - contains the following:

>5x Kroot Rifle (Pulse) clips, six-rounds per clip
>10x Autopistol clips, eighteen-rounds per clip
>100 throne gelt
>Heavy Leather Armour (+1 Armour Points to Body and Arms)
>2x pack of lho-sticks, containing 10x sticks each (useful for bartering)
>Kroot Rifle (Pulse) unloaded (1d10+5 E [energy type] 1 Pen, 110m range)
>Autopistol (1d10+2 I [Impact] 0 Pen, 30m range)
>Knife (1d5 R [Rending] 0 Pen, can choose to throw)

>>2388836
Now that I have perused my belongings, I sit back down on the mattress in this cramped pod of a room and wait for the Voices.

>Equip/bring item(s) - if so, which?
>Head to the cafe to scope it out
>Write in

>>2388847
>Bring the auto-pistol, three magazines for it, the knife and the armour, then head to the "cafe"

>>2388836
>Check the latest news from the television bolted onto the wall of the capsule

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>>2388857
I grab the autopistol. It is designed for human hands, but suitable enough with my digits. A weapon of ancient design, perhaps even older than my kin. The momentary reflection on the venerable weapon's age fades as I consider purchasing a silencer as soon as I find a non-discriminating merchant.

Equipping the armour, I strap the pistol as well as the knife onto its holster. Downhives are dangerous places, and I remember faintly the last time I ventured there with an ad-hoc cluster of mercenaries like myself. Not a good place for finding uncorrupted Edibles.

I climb the stairs downwards to the floor of the capsule-hotel. One, two, three clumsy staircases, built not with any comfort of the climber in mind. The hotel lobby is just as cheap and plasticy as the rooms it offers - a small false-ivory check-in counter behind which is a row of digital keyslips for the rooms. Two small, child-sized armchairs with a stool pretending to be a table between them, more for decoration than actual furnishings. Two vaguely environmental art pieces probably bought from mass-printing stores. But the clerk usually behind the check-in counter is missing.

I find three men - no, two males, one female - loafing around in the exit. Their arms are casually hanging to their sides, and thick, black leather jackets cover their bodies to blur the sexual dimorphism of the human species. It is not inconceivable that they may be hiding weapons behind those voluminous jackets.
The first male is wearing a pair of aviators. I kind of want it.
The second male is smoking a lho-stick - a particularly strong variant, given the stench you can smell from all the way across the opposite end of the lobby.
The female is glancing between me, the lho-smoker, and the streets outside the capsule-hotel.

>Ignore them and head out
>Hail them [Wary, can write stuff you want to mention]
>Hail them [Cheerful, can write stuff you want to mention]
>WAAAGH
>Write in

>>2388912
Very sorry, I really should have updated to see if any new prompts were made. Given the amount of time between >>2388857
and >>2388847
I thought no one else was around.

>>2388915
So we still scoping out the place?

Hail them. Do they know where the clerk went?

>>2388917
It's fine

>>2388922
I was thinking of waiting from posting until either three responses were made to the prompt or 1-2 hours passed. Is this a bad idea?

>>2388927
I don't think so? I'm not complaining .

>>2388915
>Ignore them and head out
As you leave attempt to see if they take any interest in you

>>2388769
Take us to the fight!

The Kroot, has called us to serve!

>>2388915
>Write in
OMNOMNOMNOM

>>2390132
Jokes aside,
>Hail them [Wary, can write stuff you want to mention]
May as well find out what they know.

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>>2388922
>>2388954
>>2390115
>>2390150

The Voices are contentious on dealing with this scenario. Some advice me to ignore them and head out, keeping an eye out for any funny business. Another demand battle. One even suggest Feeding upon them immediately. But in the end, consensus is achieved.

I catch the attention of the trio with a short cough.

"The hotel clerk. Have you seen him?" I begin conversationally enough.

"I really am not sure about this-"
"But I am." Lho-Stick cuts Female off. "Hello, birdman. Nice weather, isn't it?" I can smell adrenaline off his sweat-spores. Sign of battle-readiness among humans, though in their dying moments the rapid evacuation of their bowel-contents overwhelm any trace of it. Humans make for poor Edibles in general.

I glance behind the trio. It is raining. Note to self - grab an umbrella off a local store before heading downhive if I end up having to walk. The coalescing of sludge and human wastes and industrial pollutants and rain make for poor perfume, especially when meeting prospective employer.

"Good enough," I answer. "Where is the clerk? I have need of him." Having him call an air taxi would be infinitely preferable to walking downhive.

"The clerk, or his organs?" Lho-Stick replies. Curious. Knows my Kindreds' Feeding rites.

Aviators spits on the floor. Offensive gesture, human intimidation ritual. Female steps back away from me, subconsciously shielding herself with the bigger bulk of Lho-Stick.

I look at my timepiece. One hour, fifty-one minutes Terran Standard until the meeting. With an air taxi, I can make it in fourty.

>Attack the trio. I do not have time for this.
>Be courteous. Perhaps I offended them some way? After all, I am not native, and I have heard that even among humans there exist differences of custom between worlds. Write what you'd like to appease them with.
>Other - write in

If attacking
>Put a bullet into (Lho-Stick/Aviators/Female). [Choose to have Quickdraw]
>Rush into them, bowling over (Lho-Stick/Aviators/Female). [Choose to have Takedown]

*Quickdraw allows drawing weapon as Free Action.
*Takedown allows using of Weapon Skill to attempt to stun the opponent.

>>2390605
>Other - write in
what do you want

>>2390701
>>Other - write in
support.

>>2390701
Yeah, just ask them why they're being a pain in the ass. These types don't really seem like they'd care much for politeness and courtesy.

>>2390715
I just don't know the propper response to these guys. Do we shoot them? are they only anxious because of our race?

>>2390605
What part of the hive are we in? I want to know if we can get away with murder or assault. without getting a bunch of arbites on us.

>>2390722
Shooting them is a bad idea. being a xeno on a human colony means the arbites are just waiting for an excuse to purge

>>2390701
>>2390704
>>2390715

Voices of caution rules the day.
"I apologise if I have given you any slight," I begin. "I am, as you can see, a foreigner, unused to the customs and ways of this world. Alas, I would love to further chat on my foreign ways, but there are things I have to be doing and you are being... how-say-you? Ah, pain in the arse. What do you want?"

The Aviator-Glasses chuckle. He hasn't drawn a weapon yet, so there's that.

"Your very existence is a slight, Xenos scum. Came as soon as I heard there was a fekkin' alien basterd in the area." Lho-Stick lifts his jacket a little, showing the butt of a heavy-duty pistol. "This piece of iron here has taken more lives than you can count with your savage fingers. But seeing as yer so polite and smart-learned, I reckon I can let you off with a little Emperor-praising. When in Terra and all that, you get me?"

Female keeps her eyes on my own pistol, currently holstered to the side.

And to think that I thought mid-hives were at least civilised. I'm pretty certain this is not Terra - it must be one of those "human sayings".

>Agree with Emperor-Praisin'
>"I didn't vote for an Emperor."
>Tell them about the Greater Good
>Other - write in

>>2390722
Lower mid-hive, relatively destitute but not lowhive poor. You aren't sure because you literally just came on this world and Arbites effectiveness tend to vary between, but generally these kind of economically-disadvantaged zones take a while for arbite response.

They do get a response though, so keeping yourself clean of crime is worth it if you are planning to stay around the neighbourhood.

>>2390739
>Agree with Emperor-Praisin'
yes, when in terra....what is terra?

some friendly chit chat so this space red-neck loses focus and preaches about good ol' Terra.

How does one hail a taxi? can we do it ourself?

>>2390739
>>Agree with Emperor-Praisin'
I'm sure the emperor is a strong and smart shaper to lead such a large band

>>2390763
>how does one hail a taxi
Given that you just arrived in this world a day-cycle ago, you are not familiar with the transport system in John's Last Gamble. The hotel clerk who is currently nowhere to be seen might know it, though.

Gonna wait a tick before writin', see if there are any more responses.

>>2390763
>>2390765
>>2390765
>>2390772
"Yes, of course, the great Lord-Emperor of Terra. Forgive my lousy Xenos-inherited ignorance, but... what IS Terra?"

The Lho-Stick smiles in his best approximation of Handsome Jack, the default model for Imperial Guard recruitment posters in this sector.
"It's HOLY Terra for you, birdman. That's where everything began. It was there the God-Emperor unified the race of Mankind and spread us 'cross the Void, you know? Was a time for real men and real women then..." A nostalgic grin appears on his face. "Aliens knew their place back in those days, and they either kneeled or got wiped. Kaboom. Nothing left but a smear of filthy Xenos-blood. The God-Emperor still sits upon his shining throne..."

I kind of drown out the rest, having heard it many times before. I remember to nod dutifully occasionally, try my best to make a human smile, and even utter appreciating noises like "hmm" and "ohh".

Twenty minutes go by in my timepiece. One hour, thirty-one minutes left.

>Maybe this Ecclesiarchy thing isn't too bad to believe. If only I was gifted with the pure form of Man... tell me more!
>Actually, gods aren't real. They're just supercharged aliens that live in a different dimension.
>Listen, a strange old man sat upon a golden potty distributing legions of soldiers is no basis for a system of government!
>Other: write in

>>2390805
>>Listen, a strange old man sat upon a golden potty distributing legions of soldiers is no basis for a system of government!
A true leader is one who knows the best meats to eat to strengthen the band.

>>2390805
>Other: write in
the clerk could be on a lunch break. maybe there's someone else who works here?

>>2390805
Can we agree with him politely and bow or scrape or whatever, but not ask him to elaborate? This windbag seems like he could go on for hours about the Emperor, and we really don't have much time to spare.

>>2390805
>He must have consumed a great many foes to achieve such perfection of form and sow such terror in the eyes of his enemy.

>What purpose does the throne serve in this though?

>>2391012
You know, the ironic part of this I realized is the Emperor actually DID imbue his children with the ability to gain knowledge from consuming the flesh of their enemies.

Also I'm pretty sure this constitutes one of the highest possible forms of heresy to consider the Emperor in this manner.

>>2391017
remember the part where space marines can eat the brains of people or something to gain their knowledge?

>>2390834
>>2391012
I guess this technically counts as two votes to Other. Writin'

>>2391017
>>2391060
Yep, Omophagea - " It allows the Astartes to gain part of an individual person's or creature's memory by eating its flesh."

>>2390805
>>2390919
>>2390834
"He must have consumed a great many foes to achieve such perfection of form," I politely comment. "Even a lowly alien such as I can see the superiority of the form of Man, sir. But you'll have to excuse me for now - as I may have mentioned earlier, I have pressing business elsewhere."

That ought to be servile enough, I think to myself.

>Roll 1d100

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>2391307
You dropped your name QM

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>>2391309
Namefagging is a pain in the arse since I also play on other quests, and I don't like disrupting theirs. I kept forgetting to remove my name on other threads so I just gave up on it. I can QM as an anon, right? There's the thread ID and everything.

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>>2391309
>>2391307

"Hey, yer alright for an alien," the man guffaws. "Alright, birdbrain. No harm, no foul, right? You go on yer way now, but make sure to visit the priest later on to see if you can save your eternal soul from damnation. I ain't one for fancy theo-logics."

The man seems pleased with my deferential attitude. I smile and wave as the man and his two goons disappear into the night after being satisfied that I saved his commlink code. Bright lumens show the weakened rain. Should I save up on the cab fare and walk instead?

>Added one box of Charm! Yeah, we're still in chargen.

>Contact added: Rutharne

Time to decide.
>Look for the clerk and take an air taxi. I'm not walking down to the bloody lower hives.
>I'm feeling pretty confident about my chances in the lower hives in the night. Let's take a nice midnight walk in the drizzle.
>You know what, why bother meeting my employer? I just want to go back to sleep.
>Other: write in.

>>2391328
Taxi there, stroll back (once we are confident we're getting paid

>>2391328
>>Look for the clerk and take an air taxi. I'm not walking down to the bloody lower hives.

>>2391328
>Look for the clerk and take an air taxi. I'm not walking down to the bloody lower hives.
Why change our mind?

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>>2391331
>>2391353
>Look for the clerk and take an air taxi. I'm not walking down to the bloody lower hives.

It would be foolish to get to the lower hives on foot. I may have not been in many human hives so far, but I am familiar enough with their ways to know that the slums are unsafe, patrolled by gangers and marauders. I step around the check-in counter and find the shivering form of the Clerk.

After he thanks me profusely for not making a mess - "Management takes it out of our wages, you know..." - he calls for an armoured gravcar. A necessity for those willing to visit the lowerhive, but a costly one.

>You have spent 2 throne gelt! You have 98 TG left.

The ride is an uneventful one, if you could call the occasional amasec bottle and stub-rounds crashing against the braced windows that. The driver is a sturdy-looking servitor situated in his own little cell, likely to prevent assault from passengers. The scenery outside is nothing if not repugnant, the urban rot and filth of an entire hive pooled into a sea of misery. Such misery, such wantonness.

>Remind myself that this is what comes of the way of humans. Truly, our species was saved when we were contacted by the Tau and taught the ways of the Greater Good! (+ Scholastic Lore: Philosophy)
>The ways of humans fascinates me. Though I may not have lived in a hive world - this being my first foray into it, in fact - I have long studied the mannerisms of the dominant race of the galaxy. (+ Scholastic Lore: Bureaucracy)
>It isn't the first time I have stepped into the dark underbelly of a populated world. The names of planets may differ, but all underworlds operate more or less the same. (+ Scholastic Lore: Underworld)

>>2391363
>It isn't the first time I have stepped into the dark underbelly of a populated world. The names of planets may differ, but all underworlds operate more or less the same. (+ Scholastic Lore: Underworld)
Is there a pastebin for all the skills and equipment?

>>2391363
>It isn't the first time I have stepped into the dark underbelly of a populated world. The names of planets may differ, but all underworlds operate more or less the same. (+ Scholastic Lore: Underworld)
Never hurts to know about the seedy undebelly of society. Especially considering there's one on just about every Imperial World you'll ever visit.

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>>2391469
Not yet, this is just a character generation thread.

So far:

Name: TBD
Race: Kroot
Background: Hunter-Scout
HP: 14

STATS
Weapon Skill (WS) - 30 Intelligence (Int) - 30 (-3)
Ballistic Skill (BS) - 30 Perception (Per) - 30
Strength (S) - 30 Willpower (WP) - 30
Toughness (T) - 30 (+10) Fellowship (Fel) - 30
Agility (Ag) - 30 [Scrapped Influence]

Planning on writing a few more "events" to give choices on boosting some of these stats

SKILLS

>Stealth I [removes -20 negative modifier]
>Charm I [ditto]
>Scholastic Lore: Underworld [just added this one]

APTITUDES


TALENTS & TRAITS


APTITUDES


EQUIPMENT

>5x Kroot Rifle (Pulse) clips, six-rounds per clip
>10x Autopistol clips, eighteen-rounds per clip
>100 throne gelt
>Heavy Leather Armour (+1 Armour Points to Body and Arms)
>2x pack of lho-sticks, containing 10x sticks each (useful for bartering)
>Kroot Rifle (Pulse) unloaded (1d10+5 E [energy type] 1 Pen, 110m range)
>Autopistol (1d10+2 I [Impact] 0 Pen, 30m range)
>Knife (1d5 R [Rending] 0 Pen, can choose to throw)

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>>2391469
>>2391470

>Gained Scholastic Lore: Underworld!

Despite it being my first time visiting a human hive-world, I strangely feel comfortable here. There is a sense of familiarity in this decrepit place - the loitering gangers coughing out strands of obscura-smoke, unkempt prostitutes clinging to passers-by, grimy children picking pockets between the crowds of work-gangs leaving their safe mid-hive nests for the day to work on ancient manufactorums... while I wouldn't go so far as to call it "home", it is probably the closest to an environmental constant I know of.

The armoured air taxi finally arrives. I glance out the window and see the hulking form of the bouncer, an abhuman probably close to the sort called an Ogryn. He is heavily augmented, sporting a simple but powerful-looking right arm that looks like it could punch a hole through a Tau battlesuit. Because of the evening rainfall, the arm is blindingly noticeable, reflecting the harsh cyan aura of the establishment's neon sign - "Yberia". The bouncer carefully oversees the slowly-moving line of joyseekers. Though he isn't looking this way, he definitely has noticed the taxi.

Back when I was part of the warband, I would be part of the "contact team," scoping out the place of meeting and looking for avenues of firefights. Only after we mapped out the place would the Shaper, flanked by the best of the Carnivore-Warriors, deign to meet the potential employer to form the contract. The familiar-but-foreign sight of the cafe is a painful reminder of what I have lost. The charismatic Shaper, barterer of deals. Faithful-and-bold Carnivore-Warriors, sources of great firepower. And last, but not least, my fellow Kindred - the Hunter-Scouts. The thing that slaughtered them all... it was not merely human.

Breath in, breath out. I cannot be so shaken, not when I am to meet the employer. I am now Shaper, Carnivore, and Hunter in one. I am my own warband.

As I glance out the armoured windowpanes, I notice the Bouncer arguing something with a dark-robed figure.

>Wait in the taxi for a while. Though I'll have to pay extra fare, I'll be in a relatively safe spot until I have to get into the "cafe".
>Exit the taxi and enter the cafe. Might as well as scope the place out while waiting for the employer, maybe try a couple of drinks.
>Other: write-in shenanigans

>>2391570
>Exit the taxi and enter the cafe. Might as well as scope the place out while waiting for the employer, maybe try a couple of drinks.

>>2391570
>>Exit the taxi and enter the cafe. Might as well as scope the place out while waiting for the employer, maybe try a couple of drinks.

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>>2391574
>>2391584

"But yesterday you said-"
"Situation's changed. No entrance for you or your Resistance."
"Come on, Kuu. We knew each other for years! Does our friendship not matter to you?"
"I make sure to separate my job and my private life. It's called being professional. You should do the same, Monica. Why are you even in the Resistance anyway?"
"Oh come on, don't you feel angry that our world changed hands because the Governor-"
"-the EX-Governor-"
"-the ex-Governor lost a round at cards?"

The Ogryn called "Kuu" considers the words, and shrugs noncommittally. "Meh."

"That's it?" The robed human(?) waves her(?) hands exasperatedly. "'Meh'? We aren't beasts of burden to be sold off to a gamble among some highborn! We should be treated better!"

The robed person called Monica wheels about to look for support. None of the joyseekers seem interested in her politics, and she looks about in futility... until she spots me.

Ancestors damn it. I hate how my dashing looks set me apart from flabby humans.

>Nope. Not getting involved. I'm just going to step up in front of the bouncer, tell him I have a prior engagement, tip him some thrones gelt, and I'll be in quicker than a sandrat in Tallarn at noon. I just want to get in and meet my Ancestors-damned employer.
>Squawk. [Invoke through complicated gestures that I don't speak Imperial, and be spared the local politics]
>...hey, this Monica person is actually kind of cute. Are those mechadendrites bulging below her robes, or is she just happy to see me?
>Write in

>>2391607
I am suprised that an Ogryn can make complete sentences. Maybe I read about them in the wrong sources.

>Ancestors damn it. I hate how my dashing looks set me apart from flabby humans.
We need a bat to keep away all the females. This is getting rediculious. I think I now know why the woman in the hotel was nervous. She could barely contain herself in his presence.

>...hey, this Monica person is actually kind of cute. Are those mechadendrites bulging below her robes, or is she just happy to see me?
Dew it! The voices need you to talk to this adorable augmented person

>>2391607
>>...hey, this Monica person is actually kind of cute. Are those mechadendrites bulging below her robes, or is she just happy to see me?

>>2391640
I just called him an Ogryn for simplicity, but he's not actually an Ogryn. Just a huge abhuman with augments.

"an abhuman probably close to the sort called an Ogryn"

from >>2391570

Remember, we're Xenos, not human, so we're not completely savvy about the nitty-gritty details of humanity.

>We need a bat to keep away all the females. This is getting rediculious. I think I now know why the woman in the hotel was nervous. She could barely contain herself in his presence.

Oookay this is my first quest so I'd prefer not to write smut given my terrible writing skills (as you can probably tell English is not my first language). I mean I'll do it if push comes to shove, just know it'll not be very good writing. :P

>Dew it! The voices need you to talk to this adorable augmented person

Gonna wait for a few more votes before I start writing!

>>2391649
It would be heretical smut anyways.

>>2391649
>Oookay this is my first quest so I'd prefer not to write smut given my terrible writing skills (as you can probably tell English is not my first language). I mean I'll do it if push comes to shove, just know it'll not be very good writing. :P
No worries. I wasn't requesting you start doing any smut or supported the idea though I'm not opposed to it just thought the "dashing good looks" was funny and comment on that.

>>2391668
Aha! Well thanks, I don't want this quest to be TOO seriousdark. Also I'm getting tired writing in first person, so I might ditch it after this chargen thread is finished.

By the way how do you do the black bar censor over text thing? I'm not familiar with 4chan text formatting.

>>2391674
[ spoiler ] at the first end and [ /spoiler ] at the other. Remove the spacing within the brackets.

How much longer?

>>2391867
Back home, writin`

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>>2391640
>>2391644

What is it with human females? I mean, I know I am a roguishly handsome devil of an avian, with tight green muscles and deep soulful eyes, but even for me a part-machine girl is new.

>Dew it!
The Voices require me to talk to this adorable augmented person. I glance at my timepiece - forty-six minutes from the hour of meeting. When I raise my head up from the watch, I find two round lenses in front of my beak. The eyes behind those lenses are red - is that natural? I haven't heard of humans having red eyes before.
"You! Birdman!"
I'd really appreciate it if humans could stop calling anything they don't know animal prefix and -man suffix.

I tell her as much.

"Your precise species is not the problem here. Look!" She says, tugging my arm and pointing at the abhuman bouncer who is staring at both of us lethargically. "The mean brute won't let me in, and I have an important date to get to!"

"Funny, that makes two of us," I say.

"Ooooh," she groans, frustrated. "It's an important meeting, okay? I hold the fate of the entire world in my mechanical hands!"
"Never heard that one before," the bouncer scoffs. "Stop bothering the paying customers, Monica. Step right in, sir," he says, referring to me with the last sentence. "I'll let you in first just to get her out of your hai- uh, feathers."
"I can pretend to be your concubine-servitor! Th-that's what Xenos do, right? Dress up rotting s-servitors and commit incredible acts of indecency..." the woman trails off, her cheeks as crimson as her eyes and robes.

The worst part of that comment is that I'd actually seen some fellows in my line of work do exactly that. I get that steady partnership is hard to come by in this job, but... I never thought I'd awaken to this kind of thing.

>I accept. You can pretend to be my mobile meat-doll when we head in, but you owe me one.
>...every day we stray further from the Emperor's light. [butthat'sheresy.jpg]
>Other/bargain

>>2392237

Yay! I have now mastered italicising! Many thanks to >>2391697

>>2392237
>>...every day we stray further from the Emperor's light. [butthat'sheresy.jpg]
Shapers wouldn't approve
>Other/bargain
You will own me a favour If I need anything

>>2392342
SUpport

>>2392237
>I accept. You can pretend to be my mobile meat-doll when we head in, but you owe me one.
This because it's too funny to pass up

>>2392342
Wait. So you're still for it?

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>>2392342
>>2392433
>>2392570
[Seeing as the first vote basically said the same thing as the accepting, I'll be going with that.]

"Not all Xenos are alike, you know. Just because I'm not human does not mean I lack a sense of decency." In fact, I'd say not being human grants me more of it than the other way around.

"Ehhhh..." the woman (she is a woman, right? Hard to tell with all those machine bits interfering with the scent) seems crestfallen.
"You heard the gentleman, Monica," the abhuman says not unkindly to the drooping robes. "Just give it up with that Resistance business already, that group's not one a lady should get involved in. "

"...but I'm willing to scratch your back if you will scratch mine."

"Eh?"
"What?"

I cross my arms and face the two shocked humans. Such disparate specimens, one smelling more of metal than flesh, the other barely meeting baseline human qualities... yet they count as a single species, and seem to even care for each other in their own manner. Like family. Like Kindred.
"You heard me. You'll owe me a massive favour if I am to go through with this."

The woman nods rapidly before the bouncer can intercede. The bouncer looks as if he is thinking about objecting this manner of entry, but his shoulder sags and he heaves a sigh. "It's on your head, Em."

The vibrations of extra-loud pound music overwhelms my senses for a moment as I pass through the doors of the "cafe", some sort of cheap anti-eavesdropping measure. Once I enter the second door through a short lobby, I find myself able to think a little clearer, and there is a more tasteful kind of quiet brooding music in the air. Looking around, I see the interior of an actual cafe, with soft, warm colours and comfortable looking seats. Certainly much more upscale than I expected, though the rest of the clientele seem to be my kind of people - heavily armed, quiet, and waiting to get paid. Either the joyseekers lining out are decoys, or different doors become visible depending on the type of customer. I clearly meet the criteria of "mercenary".

Monica stays close to me, looking around the place. She looks timidly at the roomful of mercs seated in plush chairs and ordering recaff and goes wooden - her idea of a concubine-servitor, probably. While I wasn't looking she seems to have switched to robes of faded white, voluminous enough to disguise her thin mechanical arms and other assets. The hood obscures her features as well, I wonder why?

I've seen better acting from servitors.

A movement catches my eyes, and I notice a blue-skinned Tau waving at me. It takes me a moment to recognise the familiar face. Elsy'eir Ko'vash, the disgraced fire warrior and presently a mercenary much like myself. A surprise to see him, to be sure, but a welcome one.

>Choose a seat near the door. I like being near the exit of a building just in case.
>Get a seat near Ko'vash. It has been long, too long, since I last saw a friendly face.
>Other/write in

>>2392591
>Get a seat near Ko'vash. It has been long, too long, since I last saw a friendly face.
Disgraced? Like that one faction of Tau? The Farsifht Enclave? Neato. Regardless if that is the case or not let's greet him.

>>2392591
>>Get a seat near Ko'vash. It has been long, too long, since I last saw a friendly face.
>>2392619
he could just be a normal traitor.

>>2392619
*Farsight

>>2392649
I think regular traitors are really rare. Right?

>>2392619
>>2392649

" Kroot-Kauyon," he greets me with a nod as I take the seat beside him, and Monica the seat beside my own. "It has been a many Tau'cyr since we last worked together. Your Kau'ui, your... Warband, it is well, I trust?" He grins. It is a little unsettling to see a Tau face try human emotions, though I shouldn't be one to talk. I do not feel like talking about the loss of my Kindred now, smiling Tau or not.
"Hello to you too, Ko'vash. It really has been a while, hasn't it? When was the last time we met... was it the ransacking of Tannhauser IV?"
"A most dishonourable job," the Tau replies with a wrinkle of his face that looks eerily like a human frown, yet not quite there. "The slaughter of civilians, it was not what I signed up for. But alas, a monat like myself must take what jobs he may. And no, we met again in the Kur System - that ridiculous assignment, where we had to hide ourselves from the Be'gel horde by sinking neck-deep in the nearby septic tank."

Ah. That explains why I didn't remember. Didn't want to remember, rather.

"Anyway," I decide to change the topic, "who else is here? From the ever-shortening list of our common acquaintances, I mean."
The Tau looks thoughtful as he scans the room. "Mmm. I am myself new in this sector of Imperial frontier. I have heard from little erija-birds that your old flame was seen in this very hive-city, however. Her name - it eludes me... it was Surena, yes?"
Evades him my arse. He remembers her name perfectly.
"Old news." I grunt.
"Old love may be enkindled and bring flames anew," he counters. That damnable almost-grin of his shines in his blueberry face. "Either way, she will be most displeased that you have found another bedfellow. So soon after coming to this world, too! I really must compliment you in your philandering skills."

>Huh?
>What bedfellow?
>What?
>Write in

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>>2392714
Forgot image

>>2392673
>>2392649
>>2392619

Yep, this one is a lone warrior, though. Might've been part of the Farsight Enclave and went to strike on his own... or not. You never dug too deep about his personal life before becoming a merc, and neither did he. Mayhaps you could find out more about him if you manage to find some alone time between the two of you?

>>2392714
>>What bedfellow?

>>2392714
Just here waiting for a job like everyone else.

>>2392730
>find some alone time between the two of you?
Do you mean Elsy'eir Ko'vash x TBD romance?

>>2392771
I do not believe I have mentioned the Kroot's gender, yes? ;)

It's up to the Voices whether or not they want Kroot to follow his/her/its heart

>>2392714
>What bedfellow?

>>2392789
both of best worlds because I'm a dirty heretic

>>2392789
Don't Kroot reproduce through, like, backrubs? I feel like they'd have trouble "Getting it on" with other races.

>>2392947
so they do. They release "genetic information" into the female's back.
The also vomit up their baby and excrete waste through the skin.

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>>2393014
Oh

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>>2392731
>>2392903
>>2392741

"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh? Outright denial, is it?"
"No seriously, she is not my bedfellow." I glance Monica only to find her deeply wrapped up in her robes to the point that I can't even see her face. Might have been the embarassment. "We just met outside the cafe, and she said she needed to come in here, so..." I shrug to drive the point of my non-relations to her across.
"So you became her knight in shining armour. You have been reading too many gue'la romance stories, my friend." Ko'vash a glass of Something in front of him. "Either way, the employer for this gig looks to be one with much thrones gelt to burn. If he wanted sheer numbers, he would have hired a Free Company instead of individually inviting all these loner-types. He raises a nonexistent eyebrow at me. "Well, aside from you, of course. Your Warband numbers around a hundred, from my last reckoning. It is odd that the Shaper is not with you."
"So all these mercenaries are here for the same job?" I ask.
"Look around you. Everyone is looking at everyone else, appearing antsy as the time of the employer's arrival draws near. Ah, speak of the daemon," he says, putting down his drink as the employer strides into the room

The employer is a big man. Bigger than the bouncer outside, in fact. This would be odd for a human, except he is not entirely so - he is heavily augmented and wears red robes not unlike that of Monica until she switched hers to red and started pretending she was a pile of laundry. Flanked on both sides of him are gun servitors, unfeeling heavy-weapons platforms, and able to take a serious beating as I personally found out in several instances. They do not make for good Edibles, however, as their might lies in the mechanical part of the body, not the flesh. A train of less modified and definitely alive humans also follow him, two carrying oil-smelling thuribles before and after the Employer, others carrying the trailing train of the robe of their enigmatic boss.

The employer himself is armed enough to take on an Imperial Guard metal box, his many arms bristling with human plasma weaponry (much more unreliable than my own Tau-derived rifle but vastly more destructive), some kind of gear-themed axe, and other instruments I do not recognise. Whatever conversation had been going on between the mercenaries cease as all eyes in the room focus on the Employer.

[1/2] [I got "comment too long T-T]

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>>2393065

"My name," the Employer rasps in the fuzzy mechanical voice I remember from the initial vox-communication "is Georj Zhukov. You have been hired for your skill not only in the art of brutality, but the ability to restrain the selfsame violence as well. The job is simple."

The Employer rasps out a series of distressingly shrill garble, and one of the acolytes following the machine-man quickly set up what turns out to be a portable holo-display.

"Find the girl. Bring her back here. Payment will be processed as soon as exchange of merchandise is done."

I stare at the face hovering from the projector, with the words "1,000 Thrones Gelt" glowing below the holographic bust.
It is Monica.

>Payday, bitches!
>Is Monica even by my side right now?
>Other - write in

>>2393069
>>Is Monica even by my side right now?

>>2393069
>Is Monica even by my side right now?
So I'm gonna hazard a guess that her having red robes means she's with this guy? Is he like her guardian? We're obviously not supposed to kill or harm her.

I think I get it. He's like an adoptive dad that doesn't want her to fool around with politics and the resistance.

>>2393069
Good thing she covered her face.
Then again we don't hold any Allegiance.
THEN AGAIN, we did make a promise for whatever that's worth

>>2393069
>Is Monica even by my side right now?
>"why do you want this female hoo-man? and probably the most important questions do you want her alive or dead?"

>>2393069
>>Is Monica even by my side right now?

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>>2393103
>>2393108
>>2393432

I discreetly check to my left and find that the pile of robes has become even more pile-y. She is still there, though - I can smell the machine and flesh conjoined within the mound of cloth. Thankfully, none of the mercs really paid attention to the "servitor-consort" by my side, and even if they did she disguised herself quickly enough. Question is, what do I do with her?

"Is her name Monica?"

I look at the source of the voice, and so do everyone else. The man who spoke up is a fellow in black greatcoat, with a handsome if generic face for a human. More notable however is his gear - he seems to be armed with nothing but two swords strapped on his back. Unless they're power swords of some kind, I highly doubt it would be much good against opponents with guns. "I was actually supposed to meet a client by that name in half an hour. Didn't get a good look at her face because of her hood, but the eyes... they're distinctive."

"And what was this client's request?" The mechanical drone of Georj's voice cuts through any beginning discussions between the mercs, ending with the barest hint of interrogative inflection.

"Said something about "saving the world". Utter nonsense, of course, but she promised good money."
I think I hear sniffling to the left of me. I can sympathise - being sold out with a prospective business partner can do a number on your faith in other beings. There are very few things I hate more than being backstabbed for the promise of increased pay. Then again, I never was in a position to execute such betrayal...

"The specimen is of unsound mind, but she is valuable to us nonetheless." The scary old man-machine sweeps his lense-gaze across the room. "I want her alive. And no disintegration," he says, swiveling to address a helmeted bounty hunter. "Not a single singed cogwheel on her. Do we have an understanding?"
"Live captures will take more effort," the helmeted bounty hunter grunts out, his voice eerily mechanical through the filter of his war helm.
"Five thousand gelt, then. But she is no use to me dead." Almost immediately, the holographic WANTED poster replaces "1,000 Thrones Gelt" with "5,000 Thrones Gelt".
The helmed bounty hunter nods mutely.

"Why do you want this female, anyway?" I begin my regrets the moment those words leave my beak. As the lenses of the old man glower at me, I can almost feel whatever data-collecting appendages the bucket of bolts has collecting minute details of my person.
"My reasons are my own, mercenary. All you need to do is make sure she is caught unharmed. Damage to the goods will void the contract. You all have the vox coordinates. I expect results soon."

The old man and his retinue exit just as abruptly as they entered. Slowly, in twos and threes and ones, the rest of the mercs filter out of the cafe as well. Looks like they don't really care for this kind of aesthetic.

It is just me, ol' Ko'vash, and the girl.

>mechanicus grille, wat do

>>2393567
Mech grill is the mcguffin. Must protec to advance plot butt.

>>2393567
Let's ask Grille why the old man wants her, maybe she can offer us something better for not taking her to him.

>>2393595
Actually she originally was a window-dressing NPC I wrote in just so the bouncer gets some lines off before noticing the PC. Hilarious how she's evolved in such short time, though...
The above will be the last update for Before-I-Sleep unless it gets a few more votes off so I can get decided on a course.
Seeing as there's a bit of a lull now, how's it so far? Bit shaky at the beginning, wasn't I? I admit I haven't exactly done chargen very cleanly, but hopefully I can toss some tasty Edibles (read: gene-enhancing prey) our way so we can get properly outfitted.

>>2393567
protect her I guess. She owes us.
Ko'vash saw her, and didn't sell her out either. interesting.

>>2393567
So our friend is is on the same job right? Wheres he gonna go? Is the sword dude still here?

Maybe Monica could pay us more. I hope she has the thrones.

>>2393609
>>2393618
same we protect her and i hope for good pay

>>2393595
>>2393605
Welp that's enough for me to get writing. Goodbye, sweet sleep!

>>2393618
>>2393609
Should probably ask him. Sword Dude also left, so it's just you three.

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>>2393567
"So."
Srrrrrp.
"That was awkward."
Srrrrrrrrrrrrp.
"Ko'vash, if you could stop sucking through that straw in the name of the Greater Good, I would be very pleased."
...
...
Srp.
"I am begining to realise why you were kicked out of your peaceful Eastern Fringe Co-Prosperity Sphere."
"Come now, Kroot. I am just trying new things, enjoying life to the fullest! Who knows when we might die while we chase the goals of the latest job? For example, the bounty I am to seek is being guarded by a mighty bird-beast. Oh no! How am I ever supposed to claim the payment for this job?" Ko'vash says, elbowing me while chuckling at the crumpled heap of a woman that is Monica.
I wish I knew who taught the Tau that cocky grin so that I could punch him in his human-balls. Probably one of those Rogue Trader fellows, the swanky buggers.

"Are... are you gonna turn me in?" Comes the frail voice from beneath the mound of cloth. Really, it looks less and less like a human under those and more like my laundry after a wild Kindred Socialising Event.

I sigh as Ko'vash orders another of his mystery drink from the servitor. It must have some kind of rudimentary vocabulary processor for it to be even serving us drinks. Seriously upscale for a lowhive place. "No guarantees on the blueberry, but I'd like to hear your side of the story first."
"And I," Ko'vash joins in, "would like to know why in the name of Aun'va you hired that gue'la with the fancy schmancy swords. Every Tau knows that pulse rifles are the way."
I raise an eyebrow at Ko'vash. "You aren't going to claim the bounty for yourself, even when she is right here?"
The Tau puts on a wounded look. So close, yet just somewhat off from the real human deal. "I am hurt, Kroot. When have you known me to take more interest in the money than the story... or the conquering of a maiden? Besides, I already told you - a great, frightening avian monster is keeping the princess safe and locked in her castle. I, a shining knight in mounted armour-"
"Alright, alright, save us the speech," I groan. "Monica, if you could, can you start from the beginning?"

>Roll 1d100 for an unrelated reason.

[I just realised that due to significant changes in the scenario made within the last five hours, I forgot to put in a section where we name our Kroot. Oh well, there will be other opportunities...]

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>2393694
we could be Groot the kroot or we could have average human name

>>2393740
Yikes. By the way, in Dark Heresy lower rolls are better rolls. Thankfully, I'm a best-of-three guy.

>>2393740
but it only sounds like a human name

>>2393694
Am inclined to turn her in. I like the shiny monies. Still, guess we’d better hear her story first, at least.

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>2393694

>>2393780
Good enough roll. Writin'

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>>2393694
The drink servitor swings by again, though the thirsty Tau hasn't rang for more drinks.
Servitor.
Equipped with a vocabulary processor of unknown complexity.
Possibly integrated with some kind of voice-recognitor. Wasn't that old man awfully machiney? Not to mention all those gun servitors...

Then it dawns on me. Ancestors Above, the old man is Mechanicus. "Catch that servitor," I tell the Tau before Monica speaks further. He looks at me as if I've gone void-mad. "You heard what I said. Catch that fething servitor!"
The biomechanical puppet suddenly begins trotting away from me. The Tau, still perplexed, begins to grasp for the arm of the servitor, but it deftly dodges the grab and begins wheeling away.
Must I do everything by myself?

>BLOODBOWL! Handeggball the shit out of that servitor with my brutish physique! [get Takedown]
>It isn't high noon, but I do have a big iron on my hip. Firing the thing should disable it or at least prevent it from running away. [get Quickdraw]
>Let it go. Selling dames in distress never bothered me anyway.

>>2393818
>BLOODBOWL! Handeggball the shit out of that servitor with my brutish physique! [get Takedown]
Inflicting physical abuse is always fun.

>>2393818
>BLOODBOWL! Handeggball the shit out of that servitor with my brutish physique! [get Takedown]

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>2393818
>BLOODBOWL! Handeggball the shit out of that servitor with my brutish physique! [get Takedown]

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>>2393835
>>2393840
>>2393843
[Oops, I should have asked for a roll... but seeing as I didn't, it's my bad so I'll make it an auto-pass and ignore the 91 roll. Again, Lower = Better.]

I brace myself against the pain. The damned meat-dolls were mostly machine, of course, and given its relatively larger size from my slight frame, it is a wonder I managed to knock it out in the first place. Still, the mangled contraption is down. I am uncertain on what to do next.

The woman - girl, really - appears to have understood my motivations, and runs toward me.
"You know we are going to have to pay for the damages, yes?" the Tau sighs.
Ignoring the blueberry head for a moment, I turn to the girl. "You're good with machines, right? Maybe you could-"
"You're bleeding!"
I look down at my arms where the sharper joints of the servitor made contact with my flesh, and find the girl staring at the bit of blood trickling down from the wound. "Why, so I am. Anyway, do you think you could... dissect this thing? Find and remove any recording mechanism?" I look critically at the downed servitor. "I sure hope it doesn't have wireless radio capabilities."
It is only then I feel the droplets of rain on my shoulder. Wait, we're indoors-
"You didn't have to do that, you know?" She sniffles. Ah. There's the rain cloud. "Why didn't you just shoot her? I thought y-you mercs didn't care for lives."
Eh. I wasn't exactly thinking. But I can't tell her that, can I? "I wasn't paid to kill it, sweetheart. Besides, knocking it out means less payments to the management."
"I-I'll go look for a medkit..."
"No seriously, it's fine. Just a flesh wound."

The Tau kneels by my side. "Mmm, you know, as a Fire Warrior I go through emergency first aid training. I'll take care of his bruises, darling. Why don't you do what the birdman asked and check on the poor maid robot?"

>Yeah, let blueberry treat me. Seriously, it's just a scratch.
>Wait, if those are the two options, I'm taking the cute girl as the nurse, not the uggo baldy.
>What the hell am I doing fraternising with the merchandise? I must contact Old Man Zhukov, he can't have gone too far from the cafe.

>>2393914
>Yeah, let blueberry treat me. Seriously, it's just a scratch.

Going to fall asleep for now, the quest will continue somewhere around tomorrow! Good night.

>>2393923
support
>>2393934
good night

>>2393914
Wait wouldn't the leather armor protect against that?

>>2393914
>>Yeah, let blueberry treat me. Seriously, it's just a scratch.

Good quest btw - you've got the tone just right, I wouldn't have guessed you were NESB and M a is a cutie.

>>2394721
Thanks! It's my first quest so this entire thread is a sort of test. What's NESB?

>>2393970
Well it's sort of a "fluff" wound, it doesn't actually cause a Wound [mechanic]. I figure barreling into a walking monstrosity of metal and flesh incurs SOME scratches, no?

Don't worry, it really isn't anything serious. Until you get servitor-borne AIDS...

Writin'

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>>2393923
>>2393940
>>2394721

"Seriously, it's just a scratch. Nothing for you to worry about." In fact, I wouldn't bother even spitting at the measly wound if it weren't for the surprisingly soft response to the blood from Monica. You would think that someone like her would see a lot of bodily fluids oozing about, what with them being the makers of those horrifying barely-alive servitors.

"Not to worry, my little Edelweiss," Ko'vash says confidently as he rolls out a leather packet of what appears to be torture equipment on the floor. "The mandated education system of my people are far more rigorous than any gue'la facility can provide. I'm used to working in harsher conditions, and an establishment that serves alcoholic beverages is almost as good as a hospital itself!" He splashes some of his mystery drink on the "wound" and slaps it savagely with a square of bandages. Ow.

"More importantly, you should look into that machine maid. It might have been installed with some snooping modules. I'd hate to have your story session disrupted by bounty-hungry mercenaries knocking on the door," I tell Monica as I surreptitiously step on the cheeky Tau on his hoof.

"Oh dear," Monica says, hands over her mouth. Ko'vash and I both stop our silent melee and stare at the girl, who is kneeling over the busted servitor. She looks up at us, worry apparent in her crimson eyes. "This servitor model is outfitted with noospheric emittors. I've never heard drink-serving servitors being given-"
"Hold up on the lingua technis. Is the thing transmitting or not? Never heard this noosphere thing before, but it can't be as good as a vox set, right?"
She nods once, and after a moment of thought she shakes her head. Shit
"Well shove a kles'tak up my arse," Ko'vash breathes out. "Fucking whoreson of a-"
Whatever expletives the too-human Tau was about to emit is drowned out by the sound of an explosion from the entrance of the cafe.

>Roll 1d100! And independent of the roll, pick one (1) of the following:

>Think like a soldier. Get into cover immediately, everything else can come afterward. [DC 60]
>Drag the girl out of potential harm's way with me. [DC 40]
>Take a swig from Ko'vash's Mystery Drink. I don't want to have any regrets before I die. [Indirect Kiss]
>Do something wild. [Write in]

>>2395056
>Drag the girl out of potential harm's way with me. [DC 40]
Don't want anyone taking or injuring our potential monies. Preferably we drag her into cover with us.

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>2395056
>Drag the girl out of potential harm's way with me. [DC 40]

>>2395128
Finally. The only time rolling low worked out for me.

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>>2395128
>>2395069

>7 - Great success!

The explosion happened in the first door, which means I have a small window of opportunity before whatever is coming here gets through the door. "Ko'vash! Thaerian Killzone!" I shout at the Tau. He understands me immediately.

It was during the blockade of Thaeria that I first met the roguish ex-Fire Warrior, fighting for the partisans that had rebelled against the Governor of the human empire. We'd been in opposite sides that time, and when he entered the same bar I was drinking in, I had a few choice words to say to the blueberry sop. Words became blows, blows resulted in some of the patrons of the bar slipping out and calling the Arbites, and we found ourselves working together to blast out those judiciary thugs and escape with our lives. The bar's name had been appropriately enough "The Killzone". Our plan was flawless - the Tau with his superior firepower suppressed the entrance, while I worked on finding us a way out. Simple, certainly, and some might even say the maneuver doesn't deserve that fancy a name. To these critics and detractors, I say let them come up with a complicated plan to execute immediately in response to unexpected situations. Under fire and facing death, it's hard enough preparing a full-fledged sentence on the spot, never mind reciting the Sun'Tsui's Art of War. Simple is best.

And so it was that the good and dependable Tau hosed down the entrance with lances of his blueberry-blue plasma rifle, as I quickly took stock of the situation at hand.

The only visible exit from this cafe is currently being lanced with deadly plasma fire, which, though I would guarantee lacks as much oomph as a human plasma rifle, is still not something I want to touch. I have a simple autopistol with enough bullets for this encounter (I hope), as well as a combat knife. I am not defenseless, having armed myself with the heavy leather jacket. It does however leave my beautiful legs to a lot of chances, seeing as it only covers my arms and torso. There is also the issue with having to protect the girl. Physically, she is completely unharmed despite the wall behind me (and my right toe) being riddled with wooden splinters from a second, closer explosion that came after the first. Emotionally...
Emotionally she is a wreck.

"Kuu!"
I briefly consider if she has gone cuckoo.
"Kuu!" She cries out again. "That's the bouncer outside! We need to go help him!"
Oh.

>Ignore her and keep looking for means of egress.
>Reason with her. If Kuu was not smart enough to have fled before the entrance getting frakked, he's likely dead.
>"Yeah, we'll get him. We just need to find another way out, that's all. [Lie. Or is it? I dunno.]
>Write in

>Oh and roll 1d100.

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>2395198
>"Yeah, we'll get him. We just need to find another way out, that's all. [Lie. Or is it? I dunno.]
We can see how he's faring once we're outside, and not bottled up in here. Slab of muscly abhuman might be worth rescuing if he's willing to help out, who knows. For now, we want to get outside.

>>2395276
Damn, that's not good. Best of three, hopefully.

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2395198
>"Yeah, we'll get him. We just need to find another way out, that's all. [Lie. Or is it? I dunno.]

Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2395198
Hmmmm...
>The vibrations of extra-loud pound music overwhelms my senses for a moment as I pass through the doors of the "cafe"..... Once I enter the second door through a short lobby.....
>Choose a seat near the door. I like being near the exit of a building just in case.

Now.
>Monica wants us to help her Kuu friend in case he's hurt

>"Yeah, we'll get him. We just need to find another way out, that's all. [Lie. Or is it? I dunno.]
Soooo yeah he was in the front. He may or may not be hurt, but there's not much we can do about that one can we unless you have some bolsters under those pile of robes. I'll see what we can do but for the most part we need to get out alive.

As for exits the main cafe floor should have several, but those are most likely painted or targeted. Now the kitchen areas probably has a back door and something to dispose of waste.

>>2395420
OH FUCK! I mean I know it's best out of three, but this is a crit fail.

>>2395420
Ooh, the first ever crit in this campaign! Writin'

>>2395494
You're scaring me I can't wait to see what you have in store for us

>>2395420
Ohno

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>>2395276
>>2395420
>>2395430

"Yeah, we'll get him. But for now we need to find our own way out before we die." Even as the words leave my beak, I realise how hollow they sound. Monica didn't have the nicest mental image for the vagabond merc types, and that was before she found out that they would now be hunting her for gelt.
I turn away from her, but it's too late. She has seen the falsehood in my eyes.
"You're lying!" she shouts. "You don't intend to save Kuu at all, do you? Is money the only thing that motivates you? Then here!"
I instinctively catch the pouch. I can feel the solid heaviness of gelt within.
"That's all I had on me, it's what I planned to pay the swordsman with. Now go and save Kuu since you got paid!"
There is a cold sheen in her eyes that I never noticed before. A look of distrust, one that radiates pity toward me. No, not pity...
Sadness.
The bittersweet tang that I have come to associate with betrayal strikes me, fully realised this time. She must think me worse than the smug, vacant-eyed Swordsman earlier.

Hey, at least I got paid. Not that I have the time to check how much is in the pouch right now.

>You have gained Insanity Points! These can come in many shapes and sizes, from pinpricks of your conscience to visages of mind-numbing horror! Current Insanity Point: 8
> I am a terrible Xenos being. The character becomes withdrawn and quiet. He suffers a –10 penalty to all Fellowship-based tests for 3d10 hours.

>Return the gelt. I do not accept payments for jobs I cannot accomplish. I never voluntarily went against insane odds. I am sorry, Monica.
>I feel blood boiling within me. It is said that the Ancestors fed on a crashed shipment of Orks to gain rudimentary sentience... and more. Do I accept the call to WAAAGH? But at what cost?
>Take the gelt. I knock Monica out and continue with Thaerian Killzone. I am a mercenary, not a babysitter. Whatever attraction I felt for her is mere animal instincts, nowhere near enough my similarly bestial, but infinitely greater desire to survive. Besides, Ko'vash is best girl.
>Return the gelt. I'm rescuing that fething bouncer, money or not. Nobility is something better associated with my Carnivore brothers, not I. Why am I doing this?

>Roll 3d10!
>Also roll a 1d100!

>>2395503
Man I can't write emotional dialogue. Sorry for the underwhelming critical roll result...

Rolled 4, 5, 6 = 15 (3d10)

>>2395622
>Return the gelt. I'm rescuing that fething bouncer, money or not.
Fuck it. METAPHORICAL BALLS TO THE WALL!

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2395622
Rolling for d100 now. I hope someone else rolls as well.

>>2395627
Well, she made me feel kind of bad, so there's that.

Fuck. Not so good.

>>2395683
Please note that this doesn't mean that our Kroot has to have a conscience! It's just that this particular incident has struck him deeply [spoiler ] (because of the critical failure) [/spoiler] that he's having something of a midlife crisis in the first place. I won't push for the character to be a goody good or baddy bad, it's up to the players to steer him/her/xi/Krootsexual one way or the other.

Gonna wait for others to roll for now!

>>2395689
I made no one else around in the next twenty minutes, can I make two more rolls? I mean would you accept?

Gonna roll before hand just in case.

>>2395700
Oh.

Rolled 27, 72 = 99 (2d100)

>>2395709
Just one roll per person. It's alright, not like I'm going to disappear and leave this quest unfinished, right? Like all of my favourite ASOIAF quests

Rolled 32 (1d100)

Can we just do the thing, and take the money? I'm not the type to turn down shinies, and we were probably going to help him anyways.

>>2395746
Good enough for me.

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>2395746
support this

>>2395845
Magic number

So. How would sex with the mc work with another alien? Would he have to finger them?

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>>2395746
>>2395762
>>2395845

"Payment confirmed. The contract is now in effect. Ko'vash-" I am interrupted by a mass of robes hurtling into me. Monica envelopes me with her powerful mechanical arms - and her two frail human ones - as she cries in relief against my chest.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." she whispers between bouts of tears. I find myself unable to stop her.
Mostly because of the mechanical arms.
"Hrrk..."
"Seriously, it means a lot to me... Kuu has a wife and three children, you know?"
"Mmmmmf-!"
"I mean, I did give you the money, but... it's a selfish request, isn't it? Asking you to go out there and die for gelt..."
"Nnng!"
I manage not to die of asphyxiation before she parts from me and brings down her hands - the human ones, thank the Ancestors - on my shoulders. "Now go out there and save my friend!"
Oi, whatever happened to your regretful tone about sending me out to die? Are you seriously that airheaded?

"Ko'vash..." I cough out weakly, still a little winded from that deathgrip of a hug.
"Way ahead of you, my brother from another species. I was going to stop firing anyway, no one was coming through."
"I thought that was the point of suppressing fire."
"Correction: no one was trying to come through."

That is odd. What happened outside after the grenade?

>Get out via the ruined and plasma-smouldering entrance.
>This is a cafe. Cafe has kitchen. Kitchen means alternate exit.
>Break through one of the walls. There are no building regulations in the lowhives.

Also

>Pat Monica's head
>Pat Ko'vash's head
>Nobody gets a pat. No one.

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>>2395989
ಠ_ಠ

...We'll cross that bridge if when [/i] we get there.

>>2396032
>>This is a cafe. Cafe has kitchen. Kitchen means alternate exit.

>>Nobody gets a pat. No one.
Patting is lewd. Our genetic information only goes for the most deserving of mates

>>2396032
Hm, why don't we go up to the entrance and take a very quick peek outside, while the blueberry keeps us covered. Try and stick to the wall as we advance, minimize the possible angles of fire as we approach the door. Also,
>Pat Monica AND Ko'vash's heads, ALL THE HEAD PATS

So...anons? You around?

>>2396039
they have sex by back rubs

>>2396032
>Hm, why don't we go up to the entrance and take a very quick peek outside, while the blueberry keeps us covered. Try and stick to the wall as we advance, minimize the possible angles of fire as we approach the door
>>2396111
there hands are there dicks

>>2397079
support this instead of
>>2396104
just to get something to break the tie

>about to go to sleep
>"hmm im just gonna check thread and i will be in bed, pinky promise"
>tie is broken

Welp, there goes sleep. Writin'

Also can I just say how much I appreciate people actually playing this? I didn't expect it to get past five responses, or heaven forbid go like that "elevator quest" that had one shitpost as its response.

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>>2396111
>>2397101

I gently pat Ko'vash on his bald head. We've come a long way, him and I, and I am feeling sentimental for some reason. Is it because I am about to another kill-or-die situation? Or am I just missing friendly interactions after the loss of the warband?

A mental shrug is all I can respond with to that question. I am Hunter-Scout, not wise Shaper.

"What are you doing?" the Tau asks. He seems surprised at the sudden display of affection.
"Nothing. We sure did a lot together, didn't we?" I reply. I hope that I do not sound too fatalistic.
"My my, Kroot-Monat is feeling feisty before the feast, neh?" he grins, though it fades quickly to a gentle facsimile of a smile as he reciprocates my gesture. "We'll live through this, friend. We always have." He glances at the girl. "And we'll also save your girlfriend as well."

A battle-proven comrade is a rare boon from the Ancestors. I have lost a hundred kindred, but I have been reminded by the Ancestors that new warbands can be forged, kindred not of blood-ties but the bond of souls.

"I'm not his girlfriend!" Monica protests. "W-we haven't even gotten through the Rites of Metallurgic Purification to see if we're b-biologically compatible-"

I lay my other hand on her head. It is soft, because of the fabric of her robes, but also hard. Hard like her hardheaded, obstinate brain below the layer of the pleasantly soft hood. But hardness can also become a source of stability. Solid foundation begets solid th'u-uk huts.
She is silent as I caress her head. Does she realise what she's asked of me, all for a fistful of gelts? Does she regret her previous outbursts, her passionate cries to help her friend-bouncer? I make a mental note to myself to get her full story out of her once the situation stabilises. From the Tau as well, perhaps. The three of us in a quiet, well-provisioned safehouse, sharing life stories.
Yes, I'd like that.

I reluctantly let go of the two numbskulls that will certainly cause my death, if not today the next. Two regrets linger within me in this very moment. One, that I do not have my trusty hunting rifle. Two, that I have neglected to carry "a shitload of grenades" as a once-partner Felix the ex-Guardsman advised.

Hefting the autopistol on one hand, I pray to the Ancestors the song of silence. I head toward the exit.
Behind me, I hear Ko'vash mutter "The fuck was that about?"

>Roll 1d100!
>You have gained a Fate point! You'll need it, you poor sods.

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>2397274
WAAAAARRGGHHH!!!

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>>2397274
>Hefting the autopistol on one hand, I pray to the Ancestors the song of silence. I head toward the exit.
>not auto pistol in one hand and combat knife in the other
>gif related

What is a fate point.

>>2397351
Jesus Christ I'm an idiot. I hereby retroactively add the knife to the scene. May Saint Ollanius Pius forgive me for this egregious mistake.

Fate point is...

Spending one Fate Point allows a KROOT to do one
of the following:

Re-roll a failed test once. The results of the re-roll are final.
Gain a +10 bonus to a test. This must be chosen before dice are rolled.
Add an extra Degree of Success to a test. This may be chosen after dice are rolled.
Count as having rolled a 10 for Initiative.
Instantly remove 1d5 Damage (this cannot affect Critical Damage).
Instantly recover from being Stunned.
Remove one level of Fatigue.

Reroll, basically.

>>2397385
Good to know. Can we have more than one? Is there a limit?

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2397274
Gonna roll, not sure if it's best of 3 or not.

>>2397506
D:
BUT WHY THOUGH. WHY WHEN HIGH ROLLS ARE A BAD THING. WHYYYY

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>2397506
WELL IT'S A GOOD THING WE HAVE A FATE FATE POINT HAHAHAHA!

>>2397385
So doesn't matter if it's best out of three. So long as there is a single crit success/failure it will bypass and good or bad rolls?

>>2397520
>First roll is a 36
>Rolls again, gets another 36
But why though?

>>2397520
Best of threes and crits take precedence. Would you like to use your Fate point to make that critical fail disappear?

>yes
>no

>>2397419
Yes, and yes. Awarded when the players make an exceptionally good write in, when certain conditions in the scenario is met (QM fiat), and on some "achivements". No Fate refreshes in this campaign, I'm afraid.

Anyhow, time to sleep.

>>2397544
Well if crits take preceeding then I vote yes

>>2397544
Guess we'll have to use it, since dying so horribly so early would be rather pathetic.

>>2397544
Do we get bonus points for the double 36's?

>>2397506
Stop rolling crits you shit. I'm going to find a way to punch you through my monitor.

>>2397544
yes. I don't want to die.

>>2397544
>No Fate refreshes in this campaign, I'm afraid.
Not even with each new thread?

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>>2398833
Hmm, do you think it would be better to have one Fate point per new thread? I am thinking of making Fate Limit be 3/3 and having 3 whole Fate points per thread seems excessive.

>>2397582
No, good try tho
The dice gods really hate this Kroot, don't it?

>>2397520
>>2397274
>>2397333

Called it on you needing a Fate point [/spoler]

I creep out of the smoking ruin of the cafe entrance entirely undetected. It is a mess of dead joyseekers and random hobos caught in the crossfire, the stench of wasted gene-material mingling with that of roasted flesh. The neon nameplate of the cafe - "Yberia" - is angled oddly, emitting golden sparks every few seconds. My eyes adjust rapidly to the dark ambiance of a lowhive night street and spot a kneeling figure, his head bowed. Around him are three brutally mangled bounty hunters, some that I recognise from the meeting mere minutes ago.

[1/2]

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>>2399109
Shit, I fucked up on the -ing. It's still readable, right?

-=-
[2/2]

"Is he dead yet?" the high-pitched male voice - like that of a broodling human - breaks the reverie. I break my eyes off the silent kneeling figure and spot the source of the voice, the smug swordsman from earlier. He must have assumed de facto leadership over this band of normally lone-wolf mercenaries. "He's dead, right? I don't want him to charge at me from behind when I enter the cafe."
There are three bounty hunters that I can see, all of them looking warily at the dead(?) bouncer.
"Go stab him a few times to make sure with your fancy swords, unbeliever." a Tallarn bounty hunter, his face marred by heavy burning, suggests from under his bandages and the traditional shemagh . "We can't expect the God-Emperor to do all the work."
Classic Tallarn. Even their bounty hunters skirting the rule of Imperial law are religious zealots.
"He's stopped moving, let's get into the cafe before the target runs off," suggests an abhuman bounty hunter with four eyes and two goat-like horns protruding from his unhelmeted head. He points a finger at the Swordsman. "If you hadn't gotten in a fight with the bouncer, we wouldn't be wasting our time like this."
The Swordsman glowers at Four-Eyes. "How was I supposed to know this Monica was an acquaintance of his? And if you're so eager to get in, be my guest. You saw the barrage of plasma fire from inside. I wouldn't want to be the first one through that door."
"Yammering on excitedly about the bounty you are about to capture is never a good idea. You must be new to the business."
Before a new round of tedious argument can erupt between the two, the Tallarn bounty hunter raises a hand for silence.
"The firing has stopped," Bandages observes. "Perhaps they are out of ammunition."
"Perhaps you are out of your wits thanks to all that Corpse-God worshippin'. Who ever heard of a Tau running out of ammunition?" Four-Eyes snarl. "Alright, just to get this thing moving I'm heading in first. But I will take the largest share of the bounty, you hear?" Without waiting for a response, Four-Eyes starts walking toward the cafe.
Toward me.

>Fade into the night. The harsh clash of neon lights and still-burning wreckages all around me offer great hiding, and silent killing, opportunities. Slit his throat when he disappears from view of the other mercs.
>Fire. Though I am not in a good position to survive extended firefight with the lack of sufficient cover, surprise is my best bet right now.
>Charge! Mercs usually aren't too good at melee attacks unlike a Kroot, who is trained in the way of the staff from his broodling days. Snake?

>>2399112
Oh dear god, I did it again because I wrote (spoiler)-ing. I am an idiot. Is there a way to delete a post and repost?

>>2399112
>Fade into the night
The blueberry has the door covered, and our firepower is wholly inferior to his. Besides, even if the merc is unskilled in melee combat, I'd rather not take on the other two alone without firing support. We'd be best off trying to flank them, hopefully take out the swordsmen first, and then the Tallarn.

>>2399113
It doesn't really matter, can read it just fine.

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2399112
>fade into night
Hon hon hon we stab and slit neck like the spy hon hon French baguette hon hon red wine hon

Do we get a bonus because we're not detected?

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>>2399228
Yeeeess. Then we take his weapon.

>>2399112
>>Fade into the night. The harsh clash of neon lights and still-burning wreckages all around me offer great hiding, and silent killing, opportunities

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>>2399228
>>2399127
>>2399232

I seriously need to get better at QMing. Forgot to ask people to roll again, going with the 9

-=-
Curiously enough, Four-Eyes doesn't seem to be sporting any weapons aside from a strange staff, too ceremonial in nature to be a quarterstaff. Plus, he doesn't look like a close quarter specialist with his spindly arms and outrageous robes.
But there is no time to think. I fade into the background of the riotous multi-chromatic environment, the odd flashes from the damaged neon sign the only thing that reveals me - and only for mere fractions of a second. Four-Eyes swaggers on, confident yet wary, and I can smell an actinic stench in the air as the air before him sways like the after-image of a mirage. What sorcery is this?

I stalk him through the ruined permacrete and plastisteel of the damaged entrance, his compatriot-mercenaries tensed for something to happen. Nothing happens. The wizard enters the entryway unharmed.

"Should just offer them all to the gods, take the entire share myself," I hear him complain as he slowly walks through the corridor between the first entrance and the door to the cafe. "I'm the one who cobbled up this alliance after the vox-recorder I planted on the servitor told me EVERYTHING! None of those other idjits bothered bugging the maid."
The damages those grenade did show their effect, and I realise now that there are four other doors in this corridor - they are cleverly decorated so as to fade into the background of the wall until it gets greenlit for entry. The harmonious visual effects, marred by the grenade shrapnel and damages to the underlying mechanical sorcery that powered it, is now gone. Four-Eyes carefully draws a circle with his appendage on the dusty floor, and begins taking out a pouch, his attention divided between the cafe door and his circle.

I ready my muscles. The bad thing about void travel is that it offers little to no opportunities to hone my skill, and I always feel sub-optimal after long voyages like the one that brought me here, but the critical situation at hand is helping my body wake up to combat faster than usual.

>Unlocked trait: Blade in the Dark
-Attacks meeting the Silent and Melee criteria during stealth ignore Armour. (Does not ignore Natural/Unnatural Armour)

>I appear behind him and slit his throat. [Blade in the Dark]
>Curious, I wait for him to finish whatever he is doing. Curiosity killed the-
>I silently take him out with with a punch to the solar plexus while keeping my other hand over his mouth. [Takedown]
>Other (Pistol? It's not silenced, just sayin`)

>Almost forgot, ROLL 1D100!
>Also, roll 1d5 for stab.

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2399394
>I appear behind him and slit his throat. [Blade in the Dark]
God's? Do we know of chaos worshipper? Does he smell like a good edible?

>>2399406
UH! How many more fate points do we have?

>>2399406
Wow, fate doesn't like the Kroot much. Maybe go with
>Curious, I wait for him to finish whatever he is doing. Curiosity killed the-
And see if he'll summon a Bloodthirster or something with that crit.

>>2399394
Fuck you CHEEEEEEESE!

>>2399417
But Corn hates psykers.

>>2399428
Exactly

>>2399109
>>2399408
>Hmm, do you think it would be better to have one Fate point per new thread? I am thinking of making Fate Limit be 3/3 and having 3 whole Fate points per thread seems excessive.

Right now zero, and depending on the answers to above We'll either have 1/3 for the next thread or 0/3.

>>2399406
As you traveled extensively throughout frontier space, you've heard of many gods. The idols of the weak-hearted come in many names and a variety of forms. You don't really put much stock on gods, usually it's some primitives worshipping a superior alien culture, or some ancient aeons-long cult that was birthed during a race's pre-flight age.

He smells like old books and strange stews. He may be a good Edible, or not. If only you were a Shaper, neh?

I'll say one thing. While you haven't fought this kind of sorcerers before, your warband has. And your Shaper forbid anyone from consuming those Edibles, claiming that the one time he allowed it resulted in... something. He was vague about it, but it apparently was bad.

https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Chaos_Spawn

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>>2399406
Why?

>>2399443
Oh. It was self explanatory. I shouldn't have asked. My bad.

>>2399439
There whole fate points per thread seems excessive? Look at these 100's! Its as if some higher power is out to get Kroot.

>>2399448
Oh the why was at the roll. Also it's not my fault you guys keep failing critically!
It's because of Tzeentch. That's what we get for attacking his cultist, innit?

I'ma wait until the tie between "stab" and "wait" resolves, and get to writing. Don't worry, that fat 100 will be used in either scenario.

>>2399406
Chaos is a no-no. All shapers ban the consumption of chaos meat.

>>2399394
stab

>>2399454
Sticking with stab

>>2399454
Yeah ok, slitting our own throat is probably better then summoning a daemon or some such, even if that would be more amusing.
>I appear behind him and slit his throat. [Blade in the Dark]

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>>2399471
>>2399417
>>2399406

Yay, 200th post!
Wait nevermind. Damnit.

A swing, and a miss. I am filled with remorse at this shameful display of incompetence.
[Yeah that's it. What, you thought you might die from rolling a nat 100 on attacking with a knife? This ain't D&D]
"What the-?" Four-Eyes looks at me with astonishment as he skids over his incomplete circle - though I now see that it is not just a circle. There are symbols drawn within and without, runes that seem to whisper in my ears of power and great antiquity. There is a rotten stench to it, sweet as honey and as vile as five-day-uneaten Edible.

My cover is blown. If I manage to take him down within the next few seconds, I just might prevent broadcasting my presence to his compatriots outside.

>Roll 1d10 for initiative! I'll add all the modifiers and shit.
>You have broken out of stealth. If neither of you do anything to attract attention of the other enemies currently out of sight, you can re-enter it after the duel ends!

>Discussion - how do you want me to deal with critical failures in combat? I can't find a lot on Dark Heresy specifically about it, just the jamming rule on firearms. I think this is a conversation that needs to happen since we've had three nat 100s in a single thread.

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>2399536
Low is good for this?

>>2399542
Actually high is better for initiative. It's 1d10 + Modifier. So congrats!

>>2399542
>>2399536

Oh I forgot to ask - what do you want to do in your turn?

>>2399536
Rolling initiative
Leap forward and plunge the knife in his neck, and try grappling the body any lay it low to reduce sound? You know because falling over will produce some noise.
>>2399551
Nice

Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>2399566
Fuck. Did the dice roll wrong. Whatever, gonna roll a d100 and see what happens.

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>2399566
Do this

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>2399566
Sure, this works. I swear, if we get another god damn crit...

>>2399560
Is a massagist the equivalent of a prostitute in our race?

>>2399577
>>2399581
In the 90's. You're scaring me.

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>>2399577
>>2399581
>>2399568
Saved by a hair's breadth! Thank goodness this is the introduction thread so he didn't have a lot of Wounds in the first place. I'm gonna go with "Narrative Combat" with the throat-slitting here.

-=-
"-!"
I slit his throat before any sound escapes from his lips, and the maegi stares on in horror as crimson bubbles from a line and stains his blue robes. Gently, I lay him on the ground, watching him choke in his own blood. That strange, alluring smell returns to my nostrils as Four-Eyes closes all four of his eyes. A fresh kill, almost botched.

>Consume his Essence.
>Drag the body to a less visible location.
>Other

>>2401099
>Drag the body to a less visible location.

>>2401099
>>Drag the body to a less visible location.

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>>2401099
>>2401107
>>2401185

That was quite the wild ride. I may even be able to re-use the stealth kill again a second time. Maybe. Whichever the case, I haul the light body of Four-Eyes into the cafe, careful not to make too much noise.

"What's taking you so long in there?"

Or not.

The body secured behind one of the other doors (whoever was in them had fled as soon as the explosions started), I ponder my choices. The room in which I stuffed Four-Eyes' corpse wis empty, aside from the pungent scent of human reproductive acts and a cocktail mix of ridiculously illegal drugs. That means there are other exits, one that hadn't been noticed by the bounty hunters. It may be feasible to attempt an attack from the side or even behind, if I could use those alternative exits. The downside would be that I do not know where I will end up using those exits, and that it puts me away from protecting the cafe.

[The Bounty Hunters are WARY! This means they are starting to expect trouble, and a lot harder to sneak up on.]

>What do the voices say? (Write in)

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>2401246
Take alternate route to sneak attack. Our friend is inside so we can come rushing back if we have to. Man I really want to put a bullet in that guys head and take his swords.

>>2401618
Shooting Kirito would be extremely satisfying, but the Tallarn would probably put up a fight. For now, let's find this alternate route and make our way outside. Blueberry has the door covered, so we can probably risk a minute or two delay while we reorient ourselves.

>>2401675
Pssst. Do you think my roll plus goo enough or do you want to try your luck with a roll?

>>2401701
Well, my last two rolls this quest were a crit fail and a 90+, so I'm a tad scared to try.

>>2401710
Statistically you should be fine. Go on and roll, I believe in you.

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>2401745
Alright. Let's see how this goes.

>>2401760
Distinctly mediocre. Could be worse, I guess.

Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>2401618
Lets do this

>>2401768
>>2401760
Yes!

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>>2401618
>>2401760
>>2401768

Trusting Ko'vash to hold the line, I make my way through the room I dumped the corpse in. It is dark - the explosion must have taken the power circuits. I didn't see the Swordsman with any grenades, which makes me think that Bandages - the Tallarn Zealot - may be the source of it. Passing by the bedside, I notice the incredibly illegal cocktail of chems. Looks like whoever was about to use it left in a hurry.

>Take the chem?

Slinking out of the doorway, I use the surrounding darkness to great effect as I crouch-walk into the cold night air. As I arrive in position, I notice that the two remaining bounty hunters are in the doorway, occasionally whispering for their fallen compatriot's name.

>Shoot from this flanking position
>Try my luck at stealth-killing one of them before entering combat with the other
>Other

>>2401952
Take the shot at the idiot with the sword, then close with the Tallarn in GLORIOUS CQC. Also, may as well nab the chems. Maybe we can sell them, who knows.

>>2401961
Let's just say the chem might be extremely invigorating.

wink wink

>>2401973
Ah, a temporary boost for later then.

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>2401952
Take all the chems

>Try my luck at stealth-killing one of them before entering combat with the other

Uhm! Can someone roll!?

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2402106
I'll give it a shot. Hopefully better then a 50 this time.

>>2402106

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>2401952
Flanking shot and charge in
Take the drugs. We could always sell it if needed.

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Rolled 6, 8 + 3 = 17 (2d10 + 3)

>>2401961
>>2402105
>>2402152
>>2402222

Resolving...

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>>2402935

I fire the pistol once. The Swordsman screams at the unexpected pain. He ceases his wailing with my second shot.

The Tallarn hunter wheels around to meet me, his burnt face expressionless beneath the bandages.

Then he drops his pistol.

"The Emperor smiles upon you, alien. Rarely does the Lord upon his Golden Throne show such tender mercies upon one whose form is as ugly as yours. Yet despite your nonhuman appearance, I believe that you could be redeemed. Indeed, you have already done Him a service by slaying the wyrd."

Bandages kicks his own pistol across the ground toward me. It spins to a stop at my foot.

"Take my weapon, for it has betrayed me in my time of need. Too slowly did it respond to the urges of my mind, and this sinful sloth has resulted in my defeat. With this, I withdraw from the hunt of the girl." He raise a hand in a placating gesture. "Tell me, alien. Are you yet a beast, that you would slay a defenseless man?"

>Yes. He has sought my death, and it is only right that I do likewise.
>No. I may look like a bird to those humans, but that does not mean I am an animal.
>Write in

>>2402992
>No. I may look like a bird to those humans, but that does not mean I am an animal.
He seems at least halfway reasonable, I see no reason to kill him. Keep a very wary eye on him though, he might have a grenade or another weapon on him. We should try and guarantee his silence on the matter of the girl, however. If the tech-priest or whatever that fellow was hasn't learned of her location, I'd prefer we keep it that way.

>>2402992
>>No. I may look like a bird to those humans, but that does not mean I am an animal.

>>2402992
I don't trust him or the gun to not be rigged. Tell him to leave please.

>>2402992
>No. I may look like a bird to those humans, but that does not mean I am an animal.

>>2402992
when he leaves can we loot the body for Thrones & etc. and take his swords?

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>>2403026
>>2403221
>>2403343
>>2403617
>>2403802
[He didn't have time to rig his own gun anon, though... that gives the QM ideas. Maybe it's gene-coded! For a bounty hunter! Who is wearing bandages all over his skin!]

I motion for him to run away, run away quick and run away far. As he sprints away into the night, I pick up the gun.

>Loot: Silenced pistol (S/-/-) 1d10+5 I [Impact] 0 Pen 30m range

I haul the Swordsman's body into the warmth of the cafe where Ko'vash is currently checking his rifle. He looks at the corpse and nods approvingly. "I also nabbed one trying to get in here through the kitchen. There were two of them, but looks like the other fled after seeing his friend get vaporised by plasma." He shrugs apologetically. "Unfortunately, the same plasma that killed him also destroyed his equipment."

>Loot: Swordsman's sword black
>Loot: Swordsman's sword white

I look at the two swords with a critical eye. The metal is good, at least, but for some reason they've been painted black and white. It is insult to war-smith. Why decorate perfectly good steel, like some painted whore? Even after all these years, some human behaviours confuse me.

>You also found 9 Thrones Gelt in Swordsman's belongings, as well as 30 Scrips, the local currency. Scrips are low-value currency used for daily goods solely on the planet of John's Last Gamble. The rough exchange rate between gelt and scrips are 1:220. Remember, only thrones gelt get to be used in other planets as well. Scrips will not be accepted by some vendors, as they desire more valuable currency.

He at least was not a pauper. I will put the money to good use.

>Total money: 107 gelt, 30 scrips

Monica is by herself, fiddling with the servitor.

>Tell her about the dead(?) bouncer
>Eat the dead wyrd/swordsman
>Other

>>2403955
Hmm. Let Monica know about the Bouncer, and send her out to check on the body with Ko'vash. As far as the humans go....hm. Not sure if we should make edibles of them. Are there any signs of the taint of Chaos on the wyrd, or is he just a psyker? And I see no reason to eat the swordsman, ultimately we'd gain nothing from his corpse that we wouldn't gain from any other normal human, unless we can attain information when we eat them, or he's some sort of abhuman.

>>2403955
>ask blueberry to check on Kee
Lets get ready to get out of here somewhere safe

>>2403955
>Total money: 107 gelt, 30 scrips
A little disappointed but thems the breaks. We killed the attackers but we still need to check on Kuu right? Any of these drugs might help him?

>>2404050
I don't think they're the "Healing" type of drug. Still, they might be some sort of painkiller at least, so it might not hurt to try after we check with our companions to see if they recognize the stuff.

>>2404053
We don't want adrenaline though. I think that makes you bleed more?

>>2403955
Take both sword and sheathes/guards

>>2403955
Can you describe his clothes? I'm tempted to also take his jacket.

>>2404080
Oh yeah, we've gotta keep up on our style.