Guy0fV4lor

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

someone should trip him

I, the Demon King, Will Summon My Own Damned Heroes!

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@Zeroth@Duthguy@Jollan

Jason nodded in a gesture of quiet appreciation as the bear of a man quickly put an end to the imminent danger presented by Mira and Gier.  Although Jason was very much interested in what Lear had to say about the medicinal prowess of this world's healers, that was the least of Jason's current worries. Unless they had forgotten about it in the heat of the moment, the group of humans had yet to address the fact that there had been an undead on the property-- and if the attitude toward undead was as poor as Jason suspected, it would be preferable to keep them in the dark about his 'condition'.  As it currently stood, his current level of coordination with this newly made body would likely be a dead giveaway at to his true nature. If possible, he wanted to delay having to disclose that information until he and Danny had had built some level of trust with farm's residents. As the old warrior spoke, Jason casually tested his range of motion, disguising his attempts as nothing more than some simple stretches.  Newly formed joints of cracked and popped as Jason went through basic motions. With any luck, the farmer would be to preoccupied to notice his movements for what they actually were.

A slight tinge of annoyance flared in Jason's chest as he quickly realized a glaring flaw in his new form.  Whether it was due to the body's hasty creation, available materials, or other factors-- Jason's left leg was shorter than his right.  In hope of finding a solution, the Rokklit consulted his skill list.
[Skill list here]
Seemingly, luck was on his side.  Both [Tremor Sense] and [Lesser Shapeshift] were at (0.9).  This left him two options: find another stone to attach to his body, or try to reshape himself with what he already had.

Jason elected to do a bit of both.

Focusing his power, Jason sent a singular pulse of magic into the ground, intent on locating a suitable addition to his body for later, before reactivating [Earth Vein] to continue regenerating his mana.  Unfortunately, before to could attempt to shift around some of the stones Lear seemed to finish his lecture on this world's medicine, and now crouched down in front of him and Miiba.  The deal he offered was increadibly generous for the circumstances under which they'd met, and spoke volumes about how strong the old soldier must've been to feel comfortable extending such an offer.  Despite the fact that the large man's added threat provoked a slight chuckle from Jason, the reincarnate took the threat quite seriously, and doubted the demon war veteran would need more than an especially strong flick to dispose of either Danny or himself.  If Lear wanted them to swear to the presented terms in any way they knew, Jason would do him one better; he'd swear in a way Lear did know.

Pressing his hands together in a gesture of prayer, and making a slight bow, Jason activated [Guidence], "Onogoro as my witness, I swear that I shall do right by your family, and do no harm to humans."

With the massive farmer clearly knowing  much about both worlds, it was likely he'd recognize the deity's name, and hopefully be more open to giving up more information on the surrounding area and what exactly might lie beneath those western mountains. 

Standing straight once more, Jason listened to Lear's question, as well as Danny's response.  Turning slightly toward Danny, he nodded in agreement with the poltergeist's psychic message.  "I... Can't say I recall anything like that myself-- and of the ten or so others like us that I've met haven't mentioned anything like that."

Turning fully away from Lear, and toward his companion mimicking the farmer's gesture to come down from the coop. "Come on down Danny, we can retrieve our gear and try to get that wound treated before you bleed out."

Ban the Person above you

Banned for inability to follow the train of thought.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

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@Rune_Alchemist

Don knelt down to inspect the dead bodies littering their path, had the plants done this? Or had they been slain long before the plants had taken root?

The large man shifted uncomfortably as his hand rubbed his chin. Was it wise to continue further? Or would it lead them to certain doom? Whatever had been nesting down here, was meant to be kept here, trapped and hidden. Had that messy tangle out in the courtyard been a smaller chunk of this greater mass? Well-- it was hard to imagine it came from anywhere else. Moving forward, Don reached the door; running his fingers across the many fine grooves etched into it's ancient surface. It took less than a moment for Don to notice what lay outside the circle of protective sigils, a rather distinct design of two serpents on either side of the door sharing an orb in their fangs.

Don knew in the pit of his gut that this bore a connection to the pin he'd found. "Oi Augusta--" he called to the elf girl, as he produced the pin from his jacket, "Yer eyes tell ya anything about this?"

Holding the pin out for Augusta to examine, Don focused those energies once more-- attempting to make the pin glow just enough to be clearly visible in the darkness.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

Titus quietly nodded in acknowledgement as he suppressed a frown at the Planetary Governor's response. Though he certainly understood the reasoning behind the man’s response, the young scribe was still disheartened over not having the chance to look for (and deal with) any potential information leaks in the Governor’s estate. Then, before Titus could think of another question; the meeting abruptly ended, and the entirety of the retinue was ushered out as quickly as they had been brought in, passing a small group of Skitarii rangers as they left. Titus eyed them with slight confusion as he passed them by, That's odd... the boy thought to himself as his eyes scanned the group of Mechanicus soldiers, Why would Skitarii be sent to meet with the Planetary Governor rather than a proper tech-priest?

After giving the fleeting thought a few moments of consideration, I'm sure there's good reason for it. I'm no expert on Mechanicus protocol after all.

---

Titus kept to himself during the ride over to the Inquisitorial safehouse. His mind preoccupied with soaking up the breathtaking sights the world had in store; even the low altitude storm the Typhon had flown through possessed a majesty all it’s own. Unfortunately for Titus, this moment of quiet appreciation for the world’s awe-inspiring beauty was promptly cut short by the blaring alarm of the ship’s proximity sensors. The boy’s heart leapt into his throat as he frantically braced for an impact that never came to pass. Even as seamless as the flight continued to be (despite the frequent proximity warnings) Titus didn’t dare drop his guard for a moment, for fear they might strike something at any moment. The moment he stepped from the ship onto the landing pad, the young scribe breathed a heavy sigh of relief, ”I’m certainly glad that’s over...” he muttered to himself as his nerves steadied. Exiting the decontamination room doors, Titus found himself rather pleasantly surprised to find the first room of the safehouse was far different from what he’d pictured. Rather than something like a bunker ripped straight from the imperial guard and painted with silver trim, this was more akin to the abode of a noble. Even more surprising, was that another Inquisition agent had not only been waiting there for the retinue’s arrival-- but cooked them a meal as well!

”It’s a pleasure to meet you Celestian Aviza, and thank you so much for this incredible meal!” Titus thanked the sister enthusiastically with a polite bow as she brought them to the kitchen. His mouth watered in anticipation as he held the sandwich in his hands. The pain of going months on end of living off naught but generic Naval rations was washed away in a single bite.

The emperor has truly blessed this one with skills befitting of a devoted servant!

Wasting no time, Titus dug into his meal with a vengeance-- even going so far as initially forgetting to order a drink. About four bites in, the young scribe looked up from his plate, casually looking about the room as if expecting something, only for his brow to furrow quizzically. His eyes fell upon the tech priestess as he slowly chewed the bite he’d just taken. Was she toying with him? She did; after all, label him as ‘Prank Victim 3’. Before he could swallow and ask her himself, a certain remark about ‘Stoic Tannan suffering’ caused him to nearly choke on his food as he laughed. A fellow Scribe (who happened to be Vostroyan) back on the ship had gotten him to try it once, and it had taken Titus days to get that horrific taste out of his mouth. Needless to say, Titus was not keen on giving the heinous beverage a second try.

”If you wouldn’t mind Celestian Aviza, I too would like a cup of coffee.” the Scribe requested in a hoarse voice as he cleared his throat.

Upon receiving his drink, Titus a long whiff of the steam rising from the cup. It had clearly been brewed from freshly ground beans, and ones of the highest quality at that. It was no wonder the Tech Priestess had ordered this rather than a cup of lubricant and motor oil, the aroma alone proved the pristine quality of this brew! Titus took a slow sip of his coffee, relishing the fact he for once got to drink coffee that wasn't made from the powdered shit they provided back on the ship. Even the ship he’d served upon before he’d been transferred over to The Empherian allowed very few opportunities to be graced with coffee this good. In fact… Titus likely hadn’t had a cup like this since he first joined the Inquisition itself.

A realization suddenly clicked inside Titus’ head as a touched smile spread across his face.

Seems that crazy old bastard still has some faith in me after all …

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

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@Rune_Alchemist@Pyromania99@ERode@PaulHaynek

Don grunted heavily as he slammed his shield into the lunging creature; the abomination's nose breaking as the large man shoved it back. Not a moment later than the creature stumbling-- did the man that Don blocked for immediately descend with a swing of his blade, striking a killing blow. As the man pulled his his blade from the corpse of whatever that thing was, Don looked down at the ravaged bodies of the slain. Though he nodded in acknowledgement of what this 'Isidore' was saying, he did not respond, as his mind was focused on what had just occurred. There was no feeling of satisfaction, no accomplishment, no begrudging relief that these horrific things had been put down.... Just pity. Whatever these things were, they seemed to have been people once; grotesquely twisted into deformed reflections of what they once were. Those poor souls were probably just in pain, lashing out at anything their ruined minds felt might be responsible. At least now they'd be free of their suffering.

"Poor bastards..." Don muttered, "Can't even give em a proper burial."

Thankfully, Nick's jovial greeting helped Donovan to shake the thought from his head. "Well if this ere's a prison, aye'd hope ah don't come ere often!" the man responded with a boisterous laugh as his hand clapped Nick's shoulder, "Tha name's-" Before Don could continue, the pointy-eared girl wearing a large dress cut him off.

Don paused, eyebrows raised in slight confusion. How did she know his name? How did she know his gift? Did it have something to do with her own gift? Before he could open his mouth to ask such questions, 'Augusta' admitted as much; revealing her gift to be related to that briefly glowing eye of hers.

Since it seemed like introductions had already been more or less handled, Don now had a decision on his hands-- was he to to join this little group in their exploration? Or should he instead try to help the others escape the guardian? For a brief moment, Donovan rubbed his chin in focused contemplation. As much as he wanted to help the others, the guardian outside seemed much more focused on simply blocking the exit rather than chasing down the first target it saw. Trying to get back in that debacle would more then likely just put all of them at risk, if not outright make the situation worse. "Well," Don spoke, nodding to himself with conclusion as he drew the warhammer from his belt, "Might as well join ya. Could be somethin' down ere that could elp' everyone get outta ere' safeleh. Plus you lot seem like ya might appreciate a wee bit o' extra manpower... Plus a shield ain't somethin that oughta be passed up in a place like this."

Shield at the ready and warhammer in hand, Donovan jogged to the front of the group, intending to help take point with Isidore.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

playing catch up with college work-- i wont be able to post until the weekend at best

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

A middle-aged man with a shield charged forth and crashed into the wretched experiment, pinning it against the wall.

@PaulHaynek

O_O

Don's body is early twenties....

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

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@Rune_Alchemist

"Dammit!" Don cursed as the rock he'd thrown at the guardian simply bounced off it's colossal frame. He hadn't expected the rock to do much, but he'd at least hoped to get it's attention back on himself while the others ran.

As much as he wanted to rush after it, the man knew that such a suicidal stunt would only be to the detriment of the others. They hadn't the tools, nor knowledge to fight such a monstrosity. Huffing a flustered sigh, Don sank into a light jog and continued his path around the cliffside. Hopefully he could get a chance to regroup with the others, given that he arrive timely enough to do so.

It was upon entering the courtyard of sorts that caused the man to stop completely. This entire place, as far as he'd seen-- had long been left untouched, and snow-covered. But amongst the snow laden ground was a large black stone; fissures bordering it's edges, covered with withered vines of tar, and not a lick of snow to be seen in it's immediate vicinity. Had someone been here? Were they 'chosen' like the others he'd met? Or were they something else entirely?

Kneeling down before the large stone, Don picked a piece of the tar, and examined it in his fingers for a bit. The stuff was still warm to the touch. Someone had to have been here, and recently at that. As he wiped his fingers on some nearby snow, Don heard something echo from the building he'd just rounded.

A bark.

"Tha hell's a dog doin' ere?" Don thought out loud as he rose to his feet. Several sets of fresh footprints led toward the building in question, ending at the open door of whatever that place was. If there was another group that could possibly help Don save the others from the Guardian, they were here-- and he was going to find them.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

Titus nervously fidgeted with his equipment as they approached Erathell; ensuring his pistol, eyepiece, and cogitator were all functioning at peak performance. The prospect of being sent on a bona fide covert op was equal parts exciting and terrifying, and quite frankly, he hadn't the slightest clue as to what his own role in the retinue would end up being. From what he could tell, they seemed to have every base covered, and his rather lackluster addition didn't even seem necessary. For what reason was he sent to join them? Who would've ordered such a change?

The boy's fingers pressed firmly into his eyes as he listened to the expanded briefing. Sure the generalized explanation of the operation's scope were useful, but Titus was a scribe; not a psyker-- he needed fine details in order to know where he'd need to focus the few skills he had. A paper trial couldn't be pulled from thin air after all! He needed cabinets, and files, and transcripts, and documents if he hoped to be of any use!

Having remained lost in his own thoughts whilst in transit, Titus found a wide, enthusiastic grin creeping across his face as the Typhon entered the Stratosphere. He couldn't remember how many years it had been since he'd gotten to walk planetside, and it was a welcome change to the stuffy, recycled air of a void ship. The moment the ship landed, Titus wasted no time gunning for the door; excited to breath some fresh air, only to nearly collide with a very angry Celestian. The young scribe's entire body seemed to shrink as he was reprimanded; his very bones cowed by the Celestian's fury. "I... I Understand Celestian Andromedai." he whimpered in response; his face devoid of the excitement he had shown just moments before, "It shall not happen again."

Heeding the Sister's words, Titus took a moment to lower the setting of his collar to three, hoping to avoid causing any more trouble for the retinue, or himself.

He could only hope for the best.

---

Though he had been following orders, Titus could already tell that turning down the collar was a mistake. A slight prickling sensation danced across his skin every so often; the sensation like an icy static. It was without a doubt a bad omen. Nonetheless, Titus had a job to do-- and his primary concern at the moment was ensuring that the main contingent of chaos devotees in the hive weren't able to get a proper warning of the Inquisition's arrival. Depending on how far the corruption had spread, Titus suspected there was going to be a mole carefully kept in the Planetary Governor's company as a form of insurance. "Governor Nickolai, if possible, I'd like a digital map of your estate, as well as a roster of those that work within it' wall." Titus spoke, having waited until after the others had asked their own questions.