Name: Anna Cassius

Appearance:

Skills: Anna is a damn good sharpshooter, likely one of the best snipers in the Inquisition. It also helps that she has a psyber raven to scout out targets for her, and a mechanical eye to help with aiming. In addition, the Pariah gene is present in her, causing her to be one of the most feared Inquisitors known to the chaos cults.

Background: The simple woman known as Anna was born on a large hive world, living in the lower levels of the world for much of her childhood. From birth, it could be told that she was different from the others, from the countless humans infesting the planet. Something about the sleeping babe felt off to the pair of parents, but neither were willing to act on the strange feelings they felt from just being around her.

Growing up, her life was mostly normal, though she had few friends. Many simply referred to her as "that creepy girl." Hnestly, though, it never bothered her. In fact, it felt empowering. People feared her, just from standing around, not even having to look in their direction to make them uneasy.

By the time she was fourteen, Anna was capitalizing on this little trait. She was a common thug and mugger, collecting what she called "tax" from anyone who happened to go down the wrong path. A knife to the throat, a creepy look, and she'd have money for food for the day. It was a good life, one she would have been able to capitalize on for ther rest of her life if it hadn't all gone wrong.

There had rumors for months in the various taverns and bars about the rise of heretics and cultists on the planet, but Anna had ignored it, for the most part. This trend of not giving a shit ended when she broke into a home, only to find a bunch of cultists saying the incantations to bind a daemon to a host. And, unfortunately for them, a door kicked open and an angry shout for all their money was enough for them to fuck up and kill the would-be host. Three of them left, Anna did the only logical thing: She held up her knife and told them to surrender all valuables before she turned them in to the Inquisition, who was also rumored to be on the planet.

The cultists, all unarmed, did what cultists do. Two charged her, while the third hung back. The scrawny, robed little men were cut down with relative ease, fanatical bastards swinging wildly at her and leaving wide openings. The third, however, was back in a corner, cowering. She was a little weirded out by it, but pressed on towards him. He screamed at her and babbled something about not being able to feel the warp anymore. She was practically on top of him when a bullet zoomed in from the doorway and splattered his brains across the wall.

When she turned, there was a group of three Inquisitors glaring at her. She merely shrugged, and dropped the knife. They brought her in for questioning, one of the three remaining a great distance from her the entire trip up the hive. After a brief session, it was determined that she was a blank, and that she had stopped a sorcerer from gaining influence on a hive planet. But, rather than give her to the Assassinorum - she was too old to get the full extent of the training regardless - the Inquisition took her in to be one of their greatest weapons against daemonkind.

The man assigned to teach her was a member of the Ordo Malleus, ones their veterans. While he was not initially capable of handling the null that she gave off, he eventually got used to being cut off from the Warp, at least until their training was done for the day. It was quickly determined that she was a damn good shot, but that her eye was damaged from a previous incident, and so she would not be up to snuff when coming right down to it. So, the only logical course of action was taken: The Inquisition had her right eye replaced by a mechanical one. On the bright side, it at least looked cool.

Her training complete, she was sent out on her first mission alone, attached to a group of space marines and sent out to kill a chaos cult rumored to be springing up on one of the feral worlds. Anna was one of the first to hit planet side, and instantly they were under fire from cultists. With some liberal fire from a Hellgun and some backup from the bolsters of the marines with her, they were easily taken out.

The group consisted of Anna and a mere fifty marines to clear out the cultists. Thirty tactical marines, ten devastators, and ten assault marines. Anna had requested more, but the junior member of the Malleus was all but ignored, denied the additional support. Greatly displeased, she and the appointed commander of the marines lead their group on a blazing trail across the feral world, leaving a trail of cultists behind them. Anna felt like they were findings them all to easy, and warned the marines that it might be a trap.

Ignored and distrusted, Anna was nearly left behind as the marines pushed forward towards what they hoped was the same of operations. What they found was a mass of daemons and hosts. The mariners fought bravely, and several died in the process to the daemons and the sorcerer that commanded them. In the end, they were ready to retreat, over half their number dead, when out of the jungle ran Anna, Hellgun in hand, and charged head first into the daemon line.

Mass pandemonium struck, as the blank went through, invisible to the daemons and immune to the psychic powers of the sorcerer, tearing through their lines. Reinvigorated, the marines leapt back into the fray with gusto, tearing into the confused daemons with renewed vigor. With that one added element, nothing could stop the turn of the battle, as Anna brought the psyker to his knees and executed him. In a few more minutes, the rest of the daemons were exterminated, and only ten of the fifty marines remained alive. Anna returned the Inquisition with praise showering in from the chapter.

After that, she was put in as an Interrogator, most of the time going out to aid the Ordo Hereticus on their purges when there was thought to be a high risk of daemonic presence or possession. However, as time went on, she felt more and more detached from the threat that daemons posed. They could not harm her, could not even see her. She felt the need to learn more about them. So, she began to watch, listen, observe her fellow Inquisitors. And that is how she found the Radical.

The man was sneaking around the current base she was assigned to. Feeling just a little suspicious, she followed him as stealthily as she could, and eventually was lead into a deep section of the dungeon. The cells were in a good state, but it was obvious from the dust that they hadn't seen use in years. In the very last one, the Inquisitor knelt, a chained up body covered in painted wards and incantations knelt across from him. The floor was covered in arcane runes, reminiscent of the ones on the floor she had witnessed years before. He was about to start, when she tapped on one of the bars to gain his attention. After a tense stare-down with pistols aimed at each other, she agreed to standby as a sort of insurance - if anything went wrong, she could deal with the host easily enough, whereas he might have been hardpressed to do so.

The possession went off without a hitch. And the daemon was rather compliant, what with the invisible monster bearing down on it. The information that it was willing to give up was quite interesting, but overall useless. In the end, she executed the possessed, forcing the daemon back to the warp. The process was quite intriguing, and so Anna implored him to do it more. And so, every so often, the pair would go into the basement with a new specimen, and he would force a daemon to possess it. During it all, she was most entertained by the times they forced daemonettes into the poor mortal.

However, all good things must come to an end. While Anna was out on a mission with some of the Sisters of Battle, the Inquisitor was caught and executed. When she returned, she was the first to find out - and the first to be interrogated, as she was known to associate with him often. However, a stranger - an Inquisitor that she had only heard of, but never spoken to - covered for her. It was later that she was transferred to his retinue, supposedly by his request. After a brief questioning and a lack of answers, she met up with him, however reluctantly, and has been by his side since.

Name: Jacobus Sammael Raus/"Jacobs"
Appearance:

Skills: Prominent with various Accatran shotgun models, favors primary rifle as the mk4 lascarbine design. A survivalist through and through, has acclimated himself to various regions without proper supplies or backup for extended periods of time. Experienced in fighting against both heretical Chaos forces and Orks.
Biography:
Jacobus was born unto a feudal knight world known as Ayrdreath, where the Imperium arrived bearing the future abroad their ships. When the Howling Griffons touched down on the planet aside a battalion of Imperial Guardsmen, the people of Ayrdreath saw them not as gods nor angels, but as successors and visitors from worlds beyond. The insignias worn by them led the people to believe them to be knights of an outstanding order, a glorious kingdom from the stars, and their conclusions would not be entirely wrong.

The Howling Griffons had discovered this world, and were looking for another planet of which to recruit and bolster their numbers. It wouldn't be hard, either, for there contained over hundreds of knightly orders upon Ayrdreath of which were constantly crusading against one another. While Jacobus was quite young and rather recently inducted into his order, the Knights of the Hounds, the Howling Griffons went on to recruit who they could and went on their way. For roughly another decade, sword and shield clashed and spilt rivers of blood upon the land. The knightly orders dwindled one by one, until nearly a dozen where all that was left. And rumors of a deadly cult soon arose amongst the ears of the many feudal kings, whom made peace for a time to send forth the Dozen Orders to root out the heathens and destroy them. In truth, it was a Khornate Cult, a knightly order of those out for blood and battle. In the ensuing conflict, six of the pure orders were essentially annihilated within the first day and things grew increasingly grim for the planet as a warp rift tore the skies asunder and spewed forth hundreds of daemonspawn.

The plains-based shepherding Knights of the Hounds fought bravely alongside the northern, barbaric Knights of Ulstag as the last surviving orders. They slew their heretical brothers by the hundreds, each side taking massive casualties. Jacobus and twelve other knights barely managed to decapitate a single bloodletter, before being whisked away by an explosion of immense proportion. It was a drop pod, followed by several more. Out poured the Howling Griffons, whom proceeded to aid the surviving remnants of the knightly orders in battle. For the next three days was Khorne lusting for more blood, death and destruction, and he had received his eternal, unending thirst for every moment. Imperial guardsmen and space marine alike had closed the portal on the dawn of the forth day, following the slaying of the bloodthirster behind it all. Suffering many casualties on all sides, Jacobus finally decided to hang his sword up on the Hall of the Shepherds and trade it in for a lasrifle as one of many employed in the newly founded 1st Regiment of Ayrdreath. They took to the stars, off to test their metal against the foes of the Imperium and leave their home world to repopulate and reinforce itself.

After another decade of intergalactic crusading against the heretical forces of the Chaos Gods, a battle-scarred thirty-year old Sergeant Raus and his fellow Ayrdreathian brothers received a distress signal from the solitary station of guardsmen abroad the slowly progressing feudal knight planet home world. As they arrived into orbit, a space hulk loomed over their home and was already bombarding the planet into submission. Upon unleashing the entirety of the Imperial fleet's firepower, the space hulk was soon hurled upon Ayrdreath and a massive explosion wrecked a good portion of the planet's surface. The moment they landed, they were instantaneously beset upon by mobs of orks.

For what seemed like months, over eight regiments of guardsmen combatted their innumerable foe. During the last week of the conflict, the Ork Warboss was slain and the regiments slowly started to pull back. Expressing their wish to remain planetside and exterminate their foe, a massive riot broke out between lines. In the ensuing chaos, while additionally being beset upon by orks, the Commissar of the 1st Ayrdreathian Regiment was killed following the full retreat of the seven regiments, leaving the 1st Ayrdreathian to it's fate.

Having rallied the countrymen of his home, Sergeant Raus was one of very few survivors in his regiment abandoned to their own devices. In a few years, they were scavenging the defeated hordes of ork technology to craft what rudimentary armor and weapons they could to combat the relentless green menace. Setting entire forests ablaze, hunting down gatherings of fungal growth and mushrooms of which to destroy, driving back the various orkoids to the far north. None of it was a permanent solution, and they simply continued their unending assaults. As the last surviving guardsmen within the waning years of his failing kingdom, Jacobus exiled himself and began surviving on his own. He had helped who he could, an innocent child or farming settlement here or there, but it was ultimately hopeless. Nearly in his forties, he had just about given up all hope for his life until one day, a rather large Inquisitorial force of Deathwatch Space Marines and Imperial stormtroopers began a massive purge of Ayrdreath. In a matter of days, the Orks were seemingly annihilated and a shady Inquisitor touched down to discover the remnants of the 1st Ayrdreathian Regiment. When all they found was Sergeant Jacobus Sammael Raus, he was personally taken in by the Inquisitor for a debriefing of his encounter with the Xenos threat.

Placeholder for a character.

Debating whether to go for a... 'radical' Sororitas (she believes in the Emperor above all, but she's willing to do a lot of things the Ecclesiarchy would frown upon) or a Blank in the Imperial Guard. A third option could be a member of the Deathwatch, but I need some information on what Ordo this Inquisitor serves - he seems to combine all three.

The Inquisitor is not aligned with an Ordos and has contacts within all 3.

Okay, I think I have a character in mind now. I'll start work on the sheet.

I'll get working on a sheet after college today.

Any room for an exiled dark eldar Beastmaster cum Haemonculus?

Name: Sylrys Vix

Appearance: Vix's appearance is one of successive horrors. At first blush, he is the cruelly lean, bladed and predatory creature that any unfortunate who has experienced a Dark Eldar raid or two would come to loath and revile, albeit draped in the arcane tribal finery of his calling. But those with the misfortune of getting to examine him in detail eventually come to the terrible realization that he is more attached to his gruesome haberdashery than reason would suggest, the clawed boots are in fact his own taloned limbs, the bony spines protruding from his frame are in fact his own tortured skeleton, the flesh and feather cloak about his shoulders are his own folded wings, like some macabre pantomime of Sanguinius and his own mutant Razorwings.

Amongst the prey-beasts amongst which he hunts, Vix conceals his Eldar mien by draping himself in voluminous robes in imitation of an Inquisitorial functionary. More commonly, however, he avoids contact with the lesser prey beasts. lest their stink ruin his hunt, concealing himself instead with shadow and science.

Skills: Vix has a number of skills that attenuate the distaste of his Inquisitorial employer. Foremost are his abilities as a huntsman. Few quarries can escape his perspicacity and fewer still can avoid the senses of his myriad menagerie. Once he quarry has been cornered, Vix is one of the most viciously capable warriors in his 'master's' retinue, and driving his baroque beasts into battle, he can present an application of unbridled brutality as to profane the notion of combat as a contested act. Perhaps his most discomfiting skill, however, is his mastery of the mind and flesh. Vix's knowledge of anatomical and psychical tolerances and the dark science of his people elevate his patron's ability to efficaciously interrogate subjects beyond that of even his fellow inquisitors.

Background: Vix does not speak of his past, when he deigns to speak at all. It is assumed by his presence in the retinue and his marked loathing of his own kind that he is an exile of Commorragh, fleeing some offense even that terrible pit would not suffer. His meeting with the Inquisitor, Altellus is less nebulous. The two clashed on the Deathworld of Enki V, both there hunting the same renegade Imperial Guard commander, one for duty the other for sport. The two ended up combating each other, almost by mistake and revealing themselves to their quarry, who very briefly hunted them. Unfortunately, her fury was as lacking a her loyalty and her men were consumed by beast and bolter fire. When the bloody hunt was done, the Inquisitor had the Eldar unexpected at his mercy, and then, even more unexpectedly displayed that mercy, offering the exile a place in his coterie of cohorts. With few other options and the promise of more worthy prey, Vix accepted. Since that day, Vix has served the Inquisitor's aims with remarkable zeal, contented to hunt the Inquisition's enemies so long as they allow him to test his mettle and practice his depraved form of animal husbandry, and has done so for nearly a century.

That said, there is the tacit understanding that no matter own long their relationship may last, it is a temporary collusion, and that one bloody day, when the portents present themselves, they will finish the gladiatorial match they started so many years ago, and see who is found wanting.

Started a Dramatis Personae in the first post.

Tenish, I need you to add more to your backstory like why he is no longer welcome in Comorragh. If there are things you wish to not reveal to everyone else than you can PM it to me.

All finished up now. As i've said in the IRC my warhammer knowledge is slightly limited as i'm always learning new stuff about it's universe, so if anything sounds illogical or needs fixing i'll be happy to be oblige.

Well things seem to be kicking off at a decent rate. How many people are confirmed in on this?

I am. Spartan most likely is as well.

I'm on as well, once Omega accepts my application.

I'm very much so guaranteed in.

Okay, so I have been busy with work, Tenish I am thinking on your guy still having read your PM. Tenish since you seem to well understand that you need a good amount of trestraint when this goes to IC I have accepted for now, also I have no major problems with your sheet, I will be sending you a PM when I can though with 2 questions I have.

Everyone who has posted a sheet has been accepted.

Spartan and Pyro I am thinking your characters are both new to the group with Pyro having just been brought on before this last foray and that Spartan was picked up then unless anyone has any objections to that.

Right on, so I take it my guy has been on board for a little while already?

Name: Unknown,
Appearance: Mostly normal as long as he keeps heavily clothed. He has a torso and thinner limbs that look very much similar to a Tyranid Hormagaunt. The tips of his fingers and Morphed into Smaller but no less deadly rending Talons. His mouth is covered by a Metallic Rebreather to give the impression that he has augementic lungs and requires it to breath. But in reality it simply hides his mouth. If people were to see it he would be hunted in a second.
His mouth is far from normal, Each cheek seems to bulge slightly. As if stuffed with something peculiar. When he opens his mouth (Which can be done to a width far beyond a normal human) he exposes a Host of Needle sharpened teeth. Both traits could plausibly be explained away as the resault of surgery save that he can also Unfold Four Impossibly long, finger like Mandibles that themselves end in Razor sharp Protrusions that are capable of Secreting a Postent mixutre of venoms and toxins from glands in his throat. He is also capable of spitting these toxins a short distance if he has to.

His saliva is also mildly acidic, Not enough to melt through metal or power armour, but enough to melt through flak armour and flesh with relative ease.

He also had a thinner form the the chitinous plating that a tyranid has. His is located on his back and shoulders.

Skills: His increased strength is less than a genestealers and an astartes. But still a little more than double that of a Strong human male. This also reflects in his personal speed and reflexes which are less than a full blooded tyranids but more than a humans.
Essentially he is a walking encylopedia on the strengths and weaknesses of the tyranids. Having the rare opportunity to 'walk a mile in their shoes' live with their traits, gangly limbs, razor filled maws and nigh insatiable hunger. He knows of the most basic primal urges that drive all Tyranids forward. How they work, what they seek, and how to overcome it and outsmart it. He was able to explore these things because he may live without the oppression of the hive mind controlling his every move.

Background: His name and former identity were lost in during the process that made him what he was. And if the inquisitors and doctors who presided over his transformations know, they are not saying anything. Partly because He killed several of them when he was first awakened and unable to mentally control the hunger that had been brewing inside of him. Several partly digested Scientists, and further bio-graphs later. He had become what he was now.

His regime of testing became for more controlled and far more intense. He was starved and fed scraps, Pushed the the ravenous and primal edges of his hunger drive again and again until he could exert total control over himself and the urge. This si not to say it still wont effect his actions. But his odds of homicidal and cannibalistic spree's have lessened. Mostly. Couple that with being pushed beyond his enhanced physical limits. They wanted to know just how strong of a being they had created, compared next to live and captured specimens of xeno's. That is when he caught the first glimpse of the creatures he was molded from.

Everything about him was tested and altered at genetic levels. Even the Innate supplication to the hivemind and larger tyranid forms was soon replaced with hypo indoctrination of imperial dogma. He was raised to abhor the mutant and the xeno. It was ingrained so deeply into him to hate everything the average Imperial citizen reviles, as well as the very thing they made him into. He hates the forces of chaos even though he has no recollection of fighting or even meeting a heretic. He hates the hundreds of xeno species he has never laid eyes on. He hates the traitor, who would bring down the Imperium from within.

He hates himself and all xeno's, Hate, hate, Hate, hate. If the word was branded on every Micro-inch of his flesh it would not equal one-one hundredth of the hate he truly feels. Along with his never ending hunger this is a very dangerous combination. He was told he was made into a mutant to fight the things he hated so much.

The Imagination said
Right on, so I take it my guy has been on board for a little while already?

I was not sure where to have you since your character was picked up mainly for his ability as a survivor and has a general skillset and background so your character could fit in anywhere you want whereas Spartan and Pyro I fully intend to develop off their backstories and abilities.

Do not worry, Mister Raus, if you find your current arrangement with the Inquisitor unsatisfactory, I could always find use for you in my kennel-labs.

I always have use for more meat and nerves.

Tenish the Mighty said
Do not worry, Mister Raus, if you find your current arrangement with the Inquisitor unsatisfactory, I could always find use for you in my kennel-labs. I always have use for more meat and nerves.

Whenever I get the Pm to you done one thing we will need to talk about is the rules your character and mine agree to work with, can't have you killing off valuable crew members and all.

Oh, you are no fun at all.