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Eisenhorn male Member

Inquisitor of some Note

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In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The armsman laughed at the question of whether or not they were being fattened up before being thrown to the wolves. Oh no, if they were being treated well before suicide, they'd have broken out the liquor. You didn't waste expensive food on grunts, liquor was cheap and the rank and file wouldn't know the good shit from what got them drunk, for the most part. Some regiments that came from jumped up nobility might know, but they were the relative minority, far as he was concerned. "We're fine Kid. It's when they break out the strong booze that you should start worrying. Good food? You'll be fine, hell, that's a reward if anything else."

Stukov had laughed, but he was honest in his words all the same. Kid needed an eye kept on, but at least he wasn't maladjusted or otherwise unable to work with others, he suspected whatever had caused that little dressing down that Celeste had given was, well, an anomaly rather than a standard. Well, he hoped that was the case at least, he would save his prayers for more dire straits. Another relative unknown, though a far more dependable one from profession alone, had offered him a nod when setting up to work on his kit. The armsman returned the nod politely, not having much to discuss given the fellow had been relatively silent during the tour and such leading up to now. Guard kit, looked like a pressure helmet was kept on hand, probably Guard that deployed from Valkyries and the like. Good men, those, finding folk who could stomach deploying like that were rare, and he'd have to keep half an eye on Icarus there to make sure he didn't end up dead too fast. "Good to see someone else cares about keeping their kit in order. Sound off if you need to borrow any tools I ain't using."

In due time, as he finished maintenance and fine tuning his kit, the alert came to report for duty. Stukov nodded to the Guardsman, assembling his kit and slinging it before making his way to the meeting point. The Kid had beat him here, that was surprising, while Celeste and Sis had also been here already. Those two were less surprising, mind, but he gave the Kid a joking tone as he remarked on him. "Beat me here Kid, good on you. Always was faster on voidships, though. Alright Celeste, once our merry band of misfits has formed up, what're we looking to do? Kick some doors down, hopefully nothing subtle, Throne willing. I don't think our skills lend themselves well to subtle."
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Stukov took the good natured ribbing over his preferred brand of suffering, as they called it, in stride. Let them lack the taste for something a bit finer in life. Bold thoughts for an armsman, of course, but he wasn't going to argue the fact the drink was strong at the best of times. Brewed poorly, and one could all but strip paint with it. Fortunately it was brewed well, and wouldn't take the lining of his throat with it as he drank. Having finished his food, he casually nursed and took his time while the discussion on this place, in response to his own question, was made. A stronghold should the planet be assaulted, from within or without, and of course a rare monument to the activites and glories, indirect as it may be, of Celeste's accomplishments. He'd not say that out loud, of course, but he finished his drink in a timely manner, sighing quietly in a rare content. Smiles and Cogs got up to discuss Throne knows what, and he glanced at the Kid. "You've been quiet, Kid. Relatively speaking, what's rattling in that head of yours?"

The Kid was an unknown, literally and figuratively. Sure he carried fancy kit, but that wasn't any promise that he knew how to use it. Cogs might have written him off as another Prank Victim, and Throne knows what Smiles thought, he didn't pretend to, but he didn't like unknowns. No sense being a prick about it though, might as well offer him a chance to speak up. He'd spent enough fights being the odd one out, a mad bastard with a shotgun surrounded by faceless Inquisitors, seasoned veterans, irate Bolter Bitches, obscenely powerful psykers, and that was just to name a few. Kid was probably going to need an eye kept on so he didn't get his head removed not so neatly from its neck. He'd rather know he can't rely on the Kid than have it come up as a rude shock, if he was lucky the Kid might be salvageable. Sure, he'd gotten a dressing down from Celeste, but he'd butted heads with her before as well. And now she was in charge. Such was life in the Imperium.

Celeste decided it was time for them to go on the grand tour now, and Stukov offered a nod to Sis as he stood up and made sure his kit was slung properly. Moving in step with Celeste, he quietly considered what she said as they moved. It reeked of Rogue Trader tastes, near as it was to his encounters to compare to. Moving down a corridor of artwork, of varying...interest, and he couldn't help but make an offhand remark, directed at no one in particular. "Long as you aren't keeping a corridor of statues, I won't have any comments to make..."

Smiles probably would remember that one, but Stukov didn't elaborate for anyone who didn't. Striding along into the medical wing, another Bolter Bitch was working the place. It wasn't surprising, mind, but he still was going to make a mental note of it. Drawing from old postings was smart, it ensured loyalty, doubly so beyond the whole Inquisitorial authority business. Still, given the fact she'd be the one stitching them up when the injuries began mounting, no sense being rude. Of course, not rude by Stukov's means was, well, still nicknames and offhand commentary. "Honor indeed, Sawbones. I'll try and keep the internal lacerations to a minimum after nasty brawls."

The tour continued, and Stukov made mental notes of each location. A swing by the armory would be in order, he wanted to grab a mono knife to serve as a last ditch backup weapon, do some digging to see if any other toys stuck out to him before heading for the engineering bay to do routine maintenance on his kit. The shotgun was going to be the quick one, and if the opportunity arose, he would have to see what Cogs could do to make it hit harder. He wasn't quite as, what was the word, twitchy over 'inventive' modifications. But that would have to wait, no doubt Smiles roped her into some madness or another. The last thing to be shown was a swimming pool, which was apparently just for show. He...didn't know how to swim, it wasn't something an armsman really needed to know. Sure, he could probably figure it out if it was swim or drown, but that wasn't something he was going to engage in for his own amusement. Booze served that well enough.

"We'll see how long that lasts, knowing our luck. Right, have fun you lot, I'm flagging a room for myself, doing an inventory of the armory, then going to put some elbow grease into my kit in engineering. Make sure its all shiny and good to go, you know where to find me." Stukov would first make his way to the Armory, true to his word, finding himself a mono knife to strap to his boot, buckling it in place and giving it a few experimental weighs and basic motions. It would do nicely for a 'Fuck me' moment. He then took some time to inventory the armory, doing a count of what was around and available just in case he was in a hurry coming through here at some point. Next was flagging the least gaudy room available, not that he suspected there was much difference, and then he was off to engineering. He'd find himself a bench to start field stripping and working on his shotgun, and over the next remaining two and change hours would be other weapons and such, chain-cutlass included. If anyone needed him, well, they knew where to find him by his own admissions.
In The Emperor's Duty: A Warhammer 40K RP → 4 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The magos noted the alterations and additions of secondary shooting patterns and lanes of fire, altering the Skitarii patterns to account for this as well, and as the well timed forge workers, servitors, and Foreman struck outwards, the practiced, focused fire of the Skitarii Alphas made mincemeat of the gangers. Typical of unaugmented scum, unaware and unready for an unrelenting, unannounced strike of overwhelming force. The appropriate protocol for the task leads to appropriate results, and once the gangers were dead and their blood pooling in the street, the Skitarii reformed ranks. From firing positions and locations to a moving pattern once again similar to prior. Volkite Caliver to the Magos' left, Rotary Cannon to the right, ranks filling out to the left and right respectively. The Magos was taking the lead now, with the Ranger Alpha Primus filling his spot between the Rotary Cannon and Volkite Caliver wielding Skitarii Alphas.

"Well met, Foreman. Lead the way, and show what is needed to be shown." The Skitarii would fall in behind the Magos without a word or single unnecessary sound. They were on constant vigil, as was RT-A-221 with his Omnispex, whilst the Magos would focus most of his non occupied resources on the Foreman and the situation at hand. It was not a leap of logic for a servant of the Omnissiah to divine the purpose of the Rangers and Magos here, probes for heresy had returned nothing of note, and as such the usefulness of the Foreman and his, albeit far less blessed, troops had been noted. Once the primary objective had been located, secondary objectives could be generated and logged as appropriate. That would come upon securing of Primary Objective, however, and it was likely this was one of the things the Foreman wished to show. Ideally, means to move the munitions would be available as well, and should be, but given the state the forge had been in when approached by his Skitarii, he could not operate under standard operating information with acceptable accuracy.
In Fire Emblem: Golden Sun. → 4 yrs ago Forum: General Interest Checks
Wall of text was a good read, you have my interest as well. Got an idea for a Black Eagle lad already, to be honest, so here's hoping to see enough interest to run this.
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Stukov chuckled in response to the 'Tannan Suffering' he preferred. Sure, it was an acquired taste, but if anything was going to keep you awake and alert, it was that. Plus, better than the recaff that he had to rely on most of the time, and given how unnervingly nice this place was, he suspected he could afford an indulgence as mild as Tanna. The others were quick to make their own requests, and making jokes at his choice aside, he shrugged when even Aviza had her laugh as well. Smile's rather unusual offhand comment got a sideways glance from the Armsman before returning focus to what was going on in responding to the teasing on his choice of drink. "What can I say? Even I have my indulgences. Better than galley recaff, I'll tell you that much."

Cogs was going about her rather, well, unusual mutterings and chatter. He'd dealt with those of a mechanical inclination before, mind, but this one was a special kind of touched, even among her own kind. Not that he had the lack of intelligence to say that out loud or to her face without damn good reason, mind, but it was still a consideration he made all the same. Though the mention of other members got a cocked eyebrow of curiosity aimed at Aviza as she went about her work. "Who else did I miss while I was off on other assignments? Sounds like an even merrier band of misfits than usual, to be frank."

Andromedai finally chimed in after sufficiently stuffing her face with food, Stukov glancing over as he listened. After lunch, it was tour time, then picking out lodging and downtime to do whatever prior to heading out onto the first mission proper. The usual warning of 'enjoy your time while you can, for tomorrow you may be dead' line of thinking. There was always time for a quick nap or a quick break, whether those of her status believed so or not. Sneaking in micro naps and breaths of, usually figurative, fresh air was important in not going insane. Or getting killed, but those two tended to go hand in hand. "Should I avoid asking about how long it took you to assemble this little slice of decadence here, Celeste, given how jarringly different this is from even typical Inquisitorial fare?"
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Stukov kept himself quiet, observing the man while continuing to run through his mental knowledge of the varying medals and uniform that the man was wearing. There were other negotiations and discussions going on, but the armsman kept his silence until it was time to depart, falling in step alongside the Celestian. She seemed certain he was no heretic, at least for now, and while he lacked the insight into others that she seemed to have, he would take her word for it for now. Which also meant keeping his peace, though the warning on the fact the safe house was different from most places among the vast Imperium. "Can't say I am surprised you have such a place funded and built up for yourself, and the Inquisition of course."

The armsman kept his peace otherwise, riding the shuttle and mostly resting. He may not have been a Guardsman, but he certainly adopted the approach that many of their veterans had of resting damn near anytime they had the opportunity to. Be it in a shuttle, transport, or otherwise having no control over a situation that he could reasonably exert. Of course, some could poke fun at him being the 'old man' of the group sleeping all the time, but constant time spent in warp transit had that effect at times. In time they would touch down at the safehouse, noting that they had traveled a fair distance to get here by how long they had remained airborne. It was...quite unlike anything the armsman could put to words or describe, very much an anomaly in the Imperial approach to construction and building. Maybe it was a style sufficiently rich planet dwellers favored when space was not at a premium?

"No wonder you saw fit to give us a warning..." It was all very strange, design wise, and he wasn't entirely sure whether he approved or not. Not that it mattered, mind, but it was still a consideration as they went through a decontamination type chamber and into the safehouse proper. Rather large and sprawling, the design continuing to prove to be very foreign to him, and not just because it was needlessly fancy and expensive looking to maintain. Not that such things mattered to the Inquisition, they simply made things happen as they saw fit, for better or worse. Either way the place seemed right up the alley, comfort wise, for damn near any nobility or high end agents that would be using the place. Not his cup of tea, mind, he preferred his quarters a bit more utilitarian, but he wasn't going to turn his nose up at any of it. Especially since this was their berthing for the foreseeable future.

Imagine his surprise though, concealed as it was, when a certain someone rounded the corner, and Stukov gave her a casual grin. Well that was a sight for sore eyes, he hadn't seen Aviza in quite a few years. He'd been rotated out to do a lot of work on void operations for the Inquisition, leading teams that were better trained, and nominally equipped, for those kind of unique circumstances. Now that he had been rotated back in, well, of course there was Smiles and now Sis, at least the one that normally got called Sis. "Been keeping myself busy Sis. Not surprised to see your still around causing trouble for anything with the slightest whiff of heretic."

Stukov would follow along with the rest of the retinue as they made their way to the kitchen, cocking an eyebrow at the lunch provided. Nothing like the paste served to the rank and file, even on Inquisitorial vessels. No cost spared in providing in this particular safe house. He wasn't picky, considering the mention of personal taste and preparing drinks. He considered it, there was an acquired taste he had picked up after dealings with Valhallans nearly twenty years ago. "Foods warm, and isn't some sort of recycled paste. That's enough for me, and got any Tanna brewing? Haven't had a good cup of that in years..."
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
"Remember I said after any delimbing incidents, Cogs. Throne willing, that won't be an issue anytime soon." Stukov very much preferred himself intact, he wasn't some fanatical zealot like Celeste, or those dour sodding Kriegsman, or the Cogboys and girls of the Mechanicus in their zealotry for the Omnissiah. Regardless of that, he had to mentally note that Cogs was probably the most unstable out of all of them, and that was saying something. Regardless, the remark on sanctioned terms of his like got a snort of amusement from the armsman. Tunnel rats, maintenance roaches, plenty of terms one could call those who were more familiar with tight, enclosed spaces than broad, open skies. Reminded him that he'd never be totally comfortable with boots on the literal ground, but that was a bridge to burn once they reached it, should it need burned.

"That's probably the most diplomatic term I've heard in quite some time, Smiles, though flattery will get you no where. Well, nowhere terribly interesting." Smirking to himself, Stukov considered the response to the array of trouble. Tzeentch wasn't one he had much dealings with, not to his knowledge at any rate. Khornate and Slaaneshi cultists and daemons were the ones he'd run afoul of before in his rather...turbulent career. Still, nothing a judicious application of force couldn't sort out once tracked down, though Khornate would have been by and far the most simplistic and easy to deal with. Meanwhile the Kid was having his own shock at meeting Smiles. Not too surprising, given her...unique stature, but as the Armsman was settling into a seat, roughly even distance between the Kid and Cogs, he chimed in after Celeste remarked on Khornate being boring.

"Good thing I don't knowingly take bets I'll lose, then. And I wouldn't call Bloodthirsters ripping through a bulkhead 'boring' by any stretch Celeste. Still, daemons are daemons, and those stupid enough to side with them need sorted out just the same." Stukov closed his eyes, seeming to relax and enjoy the trip in the transport, mentally bracing himself for the trouble to come planetside. He could feel their entry into atmosphere, subtle little things that larger ships would never experience. Well, not under any normal circumstances, and as the vessel settled down he kept resting his eyes, nothing he did would have any impact currently. The sound of additional engines, distinct to those of the transport, coming near before fading had the armsman opening his eyes again. Thunderbolts, he knew those engines anywhere. They weren't proper Fury interceptors, but he had to give begrudging credit. When it came to atmospheric operation, he'd prefer Thunderbolts holding the skies over the Lightnings any day of the week.

"Standard low count escort patterns usually put them behind the escortee. Nominally, this is to be able to either peel off or launch forward to intercept trouble. Of course, its also a prime place to be if the escort needs an unfortunate accident to occur. Unfortunately they aren't Lightnings, you could almost ignore them with the right atmospheric craft." Stukov spent enough of his life on Imperial Naval vessels to know his stuff when it came to commonly employed craft, and he'd brushed up on stuff that hadn't been available to him after his formal assignment to a retinue. He was no officer, mind, but knowing a Thunderbolt from a Lightning, from a Fury, was always useful. It gave him something else to consider as they diverted and touched down to deal with this Planetary Governor. Celeste was all business now, and Stukov was on his feet, smirk fading to his usual resting neutral expression. The Kid got a dressing down, which Stukov suppressed a chuckle at. Time and place for everything, he could rib the Kid later for that.

Following Celeste out of the transport, Stukov made a quick mental headcount of the well armed 'escort' present. Outnumbered, though he couldn't say outgunned given the nasty tricks they had, but the show of force was duly noted. Not as a concern, but what to expect should the Planetary Governor indeed prove corrupt, and his subordinates equally so. In due time they were admitted to the Governor's quarters, and Stukov found himself scanning the man intently. Armored, though it was of foreign make and model to him, and festooned with medals and commendations. Either had actually spent some time in service, or wanted to make a show of it. Still, the man was abnormally tall, which was discreet until he, of course, stood up and began babbling. Quarters were offered, lavish nonsense, and fortunately Celeste turned him down. She'd already arranged that, thank the Throne, and Stukov found himself reminded why senior officers and officials were avoided. Still, the question posed got a curt shake of the head.

"None here, the sooner we root out the heretic, the sooner they can be put to the torch." Stukov could have come up with various questions, mind, but he was focused on analyzing the varied medals and insignia on the armor, as well as the armor itself, seeing if he couldn't drudge up any sort of recollection of any of it. Asking after the man's 'glory days' would not have had any direct impact, perhaps he could do some digging later through records on the man, should they have time to do so. The attitude was, well, not surprising but not welcome, and he doubted this world was all that wonderful. That, however, would remain to be seen.
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Stukov had gotten used to Smiles and her manner of simply warping into places, as was her method arrival and moving around the place. He'd wonder how much that grated on the Navigator, but he typically left the mutant to his own devices. He had a job to do, and an armsman pestering him wouldn't do that any favors at all. Still, he gave the psyker a nod and a smirk as she commented on his apparent ability to arrive promptly before anyone else in the retinue typically. Producing the data slate and waggling it briefly, he made a deadpan remark and letting it hang just long enough to sound serious before shaking his head. He had no means of teleporting, and probably didn't want any either, he'd spent enough time in the warp to last him several lifetimes. "Teleportation, rigged to key locations. Joking, let's just say there probably isn't too many other people who could traverse this ship conventionally as fast as I can. Experience has its perks Smiles."

Returning the data-slate to his coat, Stukov noted as the tech priestess wandered in. She was trouble, he figured, you didn't see her kind wandering all on their own very often, least from what he'd heard and seen. Still, she was part of the retinue, and as she babbled on about being prank victims and asking after their 'advantageous statistical probabilities' and the idea of emergency modifications. Nah, he was mostly intact, last thing he needed was to willingly go lopping off limbs and body parts for augmentations of dubious origins. So watching her wander in, he chimed in idly to her remarks and considered the situation, was polite enough by most accounts. "Alive and well enough Cogs, I'll pass on the modifications. Save those for when something nasty enough to get a limb or three off me manages to do just that. Then we can talk modifications."

Celeste chimed back in, seemed since they were all here, they were ready to go. Looking back as a younger kid came up, stating that he was a scribe and was assigned to the retinue. Since when? And Celeste didn't go asking either? That was strange, one could almost consider concerning given that sort of last minute change was somewhat unusual. Still, he gave the kid a look over. Typical inquisitorial style coat, free of ornamentation fortunately, ceramite of some sort underneath, least he wasn't going to get perforated by a stiff breeze. Fancy looking sword on the hip, wonder if he knew his way around that kind of weapon or not. Regardless, seems he got stuck with this more than volunteered if he had to hazard the guess. "Welcome to the club, Kid. Keep your head down, and nerves steady, and you'll be alright. Eh, probably. Maybe. Nah, definitely probably. Throne willing."

Shrugging, mostly to himself, the armsman turned to follow the rest of the retinue into Celeste's personal little toy. He could make all sorts of jokes about that, really, but he saved those for another time. Settling into a seat and locking in, he seemed fairly comfortable hurtling through space, more comfortable than he would be on the ground to be quite frank. Still, he listened again as Celeste ran through the mission brief again. Local governor sent a call for help to the Inquisition, which still set off all sorts of red flags. Most sane folk don't go calling to the Inquisition for help, though he kept that to himself until at least the re-brief was done. Slaaneshi or Tzeentch forces, possibly working together. He wasn't sure which he hated more, though it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Both needed forcefully and thoroughly ground back into the warp, the more stunning their failures the better. Still, as the simple and brief, well, briefing wrapped up and the option for questions was given, Stukov chimed in.

"How much is the betting pool at that this 'Nickoli' is as corrupt as the rest, just not as bright and trying to make a name for himself? That aside, if things are that deeply corrupt, not sure I'd consider our informant, high up as he is, to be even remotely reliable, Throne forbid trustworthy. As for discreet, well, least we're subtler than an Astartes kill team." Smiles was...not what anyone would consider discreet, in form and function, and he doubted Cogs was much better, given her name for the others, himself included, was Prank Victim number. As for the Kid, well, at least he looked unassuming for the most part, but that didn't mean a thing in this line of work. He could pass as a merc or a body guard easily enough, the coat and non standard armor worked wonders there. Still, they'd no doubt see how long discreet lasted before things broke down into an open war.
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Alexei Stukov was doing rounds on the Black Ship, mostly to ease his own nerves. Warp Travel didn't sit too well with him any more, though he didn't speak on that matter much. So he did the rounds, patrolling even though he was under no obligation to, assisting the voidsmen assigned to the ship with his experience and extra hands, keeping himself busy whenever he wasn't tasked with formal duties as part of the Celestian's retinue. He was pretty much waiting for the call to arms, as it were, as they had to be approaching their destination soon. He doubted they would just careen the Black Ship right into view of anyone who would want to know the Inquisition had arrived, and sure enough, his waiting would be rewarded as the microbead buzzed and the Celestian's orders came over the comm. Finally, even though that meant he had to go have his feet on solid ground again, something he liked even less.

Turning on heel, Stukov took off at a brisk stride, stopping by his quarters on the way towards the named hanger bay. Entering, he grabbed his shotgun and stuffed his pockets with as much ammo as he could carry, including a pocket on the inside of his coat for the specialized ammo he carried. Never knew when you'd have some warp spawned horror barreling down on you and some Emperor blessed munitions wouldn't hurt to keep on hand. Along with some slugs, he could always requisition more specific munitions if the need arose. Checking his belt, the Chain-Cutlass rested securely, a familiar weight, and checking ensured his Naval pistol was in the holster under his left arm. Spare mags for that as well, and the grenades on his belt, also concealed by the great coat he was wearing. Making sure his other tools, data slate, grapnel launcher, and re-breather, were all in their places, he exited his quarters, locking them on the way out.

It wouldn't take him too long to reach the hanger bay, and he passed the cog boys who were leaving, probably finished up whatever Morgenstern had cooked up for them. If the Black Ship was impressive, and it was, that gun cutter of hers was even more specialized. It'd be a lot of lost resources if it got lost or shot down, but if he had to choose any small craft to get to the surface in, well, he could do a damn sight worse than that. He offered a brief nod to the Celestian as he approached, hands in his pockets as he found himself a spot to keep an eye on the doorway in while still mostly facing Morgenstern. "Got the call Celeste, have my kit sorted and ready to go stomping around on the surface chasing what's got your ire this time."

Stukov had changed his kit after assignment to the retinue, mostly in terms of coloration. The greatcoat and mix of carapace and flak were the biggest signs of that, the coloration nothing like a Voidsman would really prefer anymore, mostly picked for personal preferences at this point. Shotgun slung over his shoulder, chain-cutlass on his hip, and other toys hidden out of sight, the senior armsman was ready and able for the mission that Morgenstern had in mind. He also referred to her by one of two nicknames for her, and the less confusing of the two for those not familiar with his dealings with others, and beyond that he kept an eye on the entryway, listening to Morgenstern while keeping an eye out for the next folks to come answering the call.
In Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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