Appearance: Like many fervent followers or Slaanesh, Natalia's appearance could be described as garishly ostentatious by the king of understatements. Every aspect of her appearance has been styled to be as over the top as possible. In a more social setting, Natalia dresses in the most flashy, gaudy, and facinating dresses possible, decked from head to toe in jewels. Her hair is often styled in some Marie Antoinette level of insanity. Unlike most Slaaneshi adherents, however, her dresses are rarely provocative in a sensual nature, rather preferring a sense of a garish mockery of nobility. In armor, Natalia's philosphy isn't much changed. Her armor is a deep purple, almost like a set of armor made from pure amethyst. Her blade almost seems to look like a slab of serrated quartz, and even her bolter is decked in jewels.
Personality: If only one word could be used to describe Natalia's personality, that word would be ego with a capital E. Natalia must be the best at anything she considers herself to be the best at. A menial would be exceedingly lucky if they were merely killed for suggesting otherwise. If one plays to her stylized whims and plays along, however, Natalia is quite a congenial woman, and can be surprisingly generous to those in her favor. Generosity is yet another sensation to experience, after all. Still, in the end everything comes back to that ego, and Natalia is more then willing to steal the credit of her compatriots and take all the glory. Clearly, they embarked on their feats in her name, after all.
Biography: Originally Natalia Oshorov, a young noblewoman daughter in the Calixis Sector, Natalia played the part of the demure heiress who's role was to further the family name on her backwater hive. Behind the scenes, however, Natalia was quite the ambitious woman, and would work to see what she could personally use from her family and suitors to further her own desires of power. Unsurprisingly, she was wooed and corrupted to the whims of chaos by a worshiper of Slaanesh who sought to use her to corrupt the planet. However, he was quite surprised to suddenly find himself being sacrificed to the Prince of Pleasure, and Natalia seizing his plan for herself in the 11th hour. Fleeing the planet as all hell literally broke loose, she utilized her connections one last time to amass a crew of sycophantic raiders, and made for the Ragged Helix to pillage and plunder to her hearts content. All shall come to fear the Pirate Princess Natalia Periwinkle the Purple. Just nobody tell her that they don't yet.
Just to clarify, her influence as a noblewoman doesn't exist in the slightest anymore. She is basically just a pirate captain with classic slaaneshi delusions of grandeur.
Appearance: Like many fervent followers or Slaanesh, Natalia's appearance could be described as garishly ostentatious by the king of understatements. Every aspect of her appearance has been styled to be as over the top as possible. In a more social setting, Natalia dresses in the most flashy, gaudy, and facinating dresses possible, decked from head to toe in jewels. Her hair is often styled in some Marie Antoinette level of insanity. Unlike most Slaaneshi adherents, however, her dresses are rarely provocative in a sensual nature, rather preferring a sense of a garish mockery of nobility. In armor, Natalia's philosphy isn't much changed. Her armor is a deep purple, almost like a set of armor made from pure amethyst. Her blade almost seems to look like a slab of serrated quartz, and even her bolter is decked in jewels.
Personality: If only one word could be used to describe Natalia's personality, that word would be ego with a capital E. Natalia must be the best at anything she considers herself to be the best at. A menial would be exceedingly lucky if they were merely killed for suggesting otherwise. If one plays to her stylized whims and plays along, however, Natalia is quite a congenial woman, and can be surprisingly generous to those in her favor. Generosity is yet another sensation to experience, after all. Still, in the end everything comes back to that ego, and Natalia is more then willing to steal the credit of her compatriots and take all the glory. Clearly, they embarked on their feats in her name, after all.
Biography: Originally Natalia Oshorov, a young noblewoman daughter in the Calixis Sector, Natalia played the part of the demure heiress who's role was to further the family name on her backwater hive. Behind the scenes, however, Natalia was quite the ambitious woman, and would work to see what she could personally use from her family and suitors to further her own desires of power. Unsurprisingly, she was wooed and corrupted to the whims of chaos by a worshiper of Slaanesh who sought to use her to corrupt the planet. However, he was quite surprised to suddenly find himself being sacrificed to the Prince of Pleasure, and Natalia seizing his plan for herself in the 11th hour. Fleeing the planet as all hell literally broke loose, she utilized her connections one last time to amass a crew of sycophantic raiders, and made for the Ragged Helix to pillage and plunder to her hearts content. All shall come to fear the Pirate Princess Natalia Periwinkle the Purple. Just nobody tell her that they don't yet.
Just to clarify, her influence as a noblewoman doesn't exist in the slightest anymore. She is basically just a pirate captain with classic slaaneshi delusions of grandeur.
I like whats there! Obviously she won't be able to extend that "killing those who even somewhat slight me" attitude to the other group members, but beyond that I'm pretty happy with the CS. Natalia is accepted, as our first party member.
My original plan was to have my member of the coterie be a slaaneshi pirate from the jagged helix, but it looks like we'll have quite a few servants of she who thirsts in our lil warband, so I'll wait to see what charact concepts everyone has cooked up, and try and devise something that compliments the group :)
Do we want to aim for a collective Slaanesh group or do we want some variety?
Variety would be my preference, but if every single player wanted to be Slaanesh, then I won't make anyone play something else for the sake of diversity. I don't want to force anyone into more boxes than need be
Museum of Imperial History, Divayth City Alma Secundus, Calixis Sector
"My lord," said the Curator, "we are nearly finished. The Fyr Tablets are in the final crates- my servitors are bringing them aboard your craft now."
He was a frail man, in a suit of purple velvet with an ascot slightly stained. Watery eyes set deep in his bony face peered from behind a pince-nez at the Inquisitor. Fearful but curious.
"Good," said the Inquisitor. He had a rich voice, the slightly dismissive baritone of an aristo used to being obeyed, "You have been most efficient."
The loading bay was filling with the roar of the gun-cutter's engines as it powered up to leave. Heavy utility-servitors, thrice the size of a man, were clumping up and down the ship's open cargo bay, ferrying wooden boxes marked 'FRAGILE- IMPERIAL RELIC' in their industrial claws.
"A pity they should be taken from you, these treasures," offered the Inquisitor, turning to face the Curator, who took a half-step back. The Inquisitor's face- if he had one- was hidden behind a silver, expressionless mask, decorated by elegant tracery. The Curator was fluent in five tongues, including High Gothic, and familiar with dozens more, but he did not recognize the provenance of those weirdly sinuous runes.
"Well, I am of course sad to lose them from the collection," said the Curator, then hastened to add, "But anything for the Ordos, of course."
"If you only knew, my dear man," replied the Inquisitor. He was a tall man, clad in a black, hooded cassock, his robes edged with shimmering embroidery. One gauntlet-covered hand, silver like the mask, rested on the railing of the platform on which they stood overlooking the loading bay. The other clutched a black metal stave.
Inquisitor Love had about him all the menace and mystery the Curator associated with the dreaded Holy Ordos. His men, however, seemed of the rougher sort. Clad in unpainted metal armor-some of it rusted and stained- they milled impatiently and without apparent discipline about the loading bay, barking orders at the museum servitors and staff in a harsh tongue the Curator had never before heard. Almost all wore rebreathers, their eyes hidden behind glowing red optics.
The Curator's portable vox-unit blared to life- it was the voice of his assistant. She sounded frantic.
"Sir, sir, the Inquisition is here."
Inquisitor Love's cowled head tilted at that. Several of his men turned and looked up at the Curator. Annoyed to be interrupted and unnerved by the staring red optics, the Curator snatched up his vox-unit and snapped back, "Of course woman! I'm with him now in the loadin-"
"No," she replied, cutting him off, "A different Inquisitor is here, Kolens, he says not to let the other-"
Love almost casually plucked the vox-unit from the Curator's hand and crushed it in his mailed fist.
"You'd better run for it, my friend," he said, his voice as calm as though he were commenting on the weather, "My esteemed colleagues will not reward you for cooperating with me."
"I don't understand..." said the Curator. But the Inquisitor wasn't listening- he'd spun on his heel and was striding down the platform to the loading bay floor, black robes billowing out behind him as he issued orders in the harsh, foreign tongue of his minions.
For their part, the minions were suddenly more organized- taking up positions behind crates and spent fuel canisters, weapons unslung.
"By Terra," gasped the Curator, looking around for a place to flee. He found none, for the entryway to the loading bay was now crowded with planetary guardsmen.
The shooting started immediately, from both sides. The Curator cowered behind a lifter-control console as las-bolts and bullets filled the air around him. Curiosity conquered fear on one front, however, for he did not close his eyes. What he saw terrified him. Two figures in power armor, one marked with the sigil of the Inquisition, the other too large and horrible to be anything other than one of the Astartes barreled through the cluster of guardsmen pinned down by the entrance-way, unflinching as small-arms fire pinged off their armor.
"LOVE," this second Inquisitor was bellowing, "IT'S OVER, LOVE."
The Astartes said nothing, just blazed away at Love's men, who melted before his onslaught. Suddenly, both his weapon and that of his companion clicked uselessly as they tried to fire. Both paused, confounded for a moment at their jammed weapons.
It was then that the utility-servitors barreled into them, their heavy claws swinging, lines of corrupted-code blurting from their shriveled mouths. The second Inquisitor was knocked off his feet, but the Astartes took his assailant apart easily, using only his armored hands.
The Curator risked a glance around the corner of his hiding spot at Love's gun-cutter. He caught a glimpse of the black-robed figure with arms and stave extended, before the cargo bay clicked shut and the vessel launched itself from the loading bay in a deafening roar, disappearing quickly into the cloudless sky.
The second inquisitor was now on his feet, having killed the servitor attacking him rather clinically with a humming power-sword.
"SCRAMBLE THE FIGHTERS, I WANTED AIR COVER!" he was bellowing, as guardsmen surged past him to fill the bay.
The Curator felt a shadow fall over him, and looked up to see the vast bulk of the Astartes glowering down at him.
"What," said the Space Marine, "did they take?"
Name: Incurvatus Love, Ordo Xenos
Denomination: Undivided? Possibly Love still considers himself a Xanthite, but suspected by most of his Imperial peers to be a Phaenonite. Love has been declared excommunicate traitoris by Inquisitor Kolans of the Ordo Hereticus. This declaration was neither repudiated nor endorsed by Love's superior in the Ordo Xenos, Inquisitor Lord Gavel von Kesselbrood. To the chaos factions of the Vortex, Love is a known mercenary and his inquisitorial status (which he does not advertise, but is rumored among the chaos forces) is treated generally with indifference, mild curiosity or contempt.
Appearance:
A blend of machine and man, covered in a dark & hooded cassock. His face is an expressionless silver mask. He boasts a pair of clawed mechadendrites, each armed with close range cutting/welding lasers. These ae usually hidden in his robes.
Personality: Calm, cold, calculating, with a fairly business-first, mercenary attitude and a wry sense of humor. He is not particularly religious and affects disinterest in both the chaos gods and the Imperial faith. It is clear he sees the warp and its denizens as a potential source of power (and risk), not as something to be worshiped- which often offends the more zealous worshipers of the Dark Gods who often make use of his services. He is known to be a keen collector of xenos, mechanicus, and chaos tech-relics.
Biography: As an interrogator and young inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, Love was always of a Radical disposition, but his true fall came through reading Heretek philosophical works, from which he became obsessed with self-augmentation. While his status as an Inquisitor is murky (he has contacts among his former colleagues of the radical persuasion), he now pursues his own agenda in Chaos territory, usually working as a mercenary and 'fixer' for warlords and power-brokers. He has developed a reputation as a formidable figure among the warlords of the Vortex, with the ability to operate clandestinely in Imperial space.
Skills: Love is an adept of heretek magic, and a fairly potent (probably low to mid Delta-level) psyker, though he does not make use of the more exotic magics of Chaos, being cautious about the risks of madness and mutation. In addition, his heavily augmented and modified body leaves him formidable in hand to hand combat when facing human foes, though in a brawl he could not hold his own against those heavily altered by the Warp, and would stand no chance facing an Astartes.
Remains to be seen, but would be excellent if true.
@Bloodrose Would a Chaos-tainted Kroot fit in, after eating corrupted flesh... Or even just a bog-standard Kroot lured in by money. Being mercenaries after all.
Again I'm just asking, as I'm likely to roll with a traitor Guardsmen if it isn't.
