POOHEAD189

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"You pick the dishes," Camilla insisted.

"If I pick the dishes, then you pick the drinks." I countered.

"Champagne," Camilla told Giovanni Caprese, who congratulated her on a fine choice. He turned to me expectantly, keeping me on a quick timetable. It was lucky for me I had smelled something delightful on the way in, and it gave me the idea.

"Chicken Parmigiana," I told him, twirling my finger until I added. "Crisped."

"Molto bene!" Giovanni Caprese said, giving a slight bow to us. "It is delightful to have such a beautiful couple here tonight. Your drinks will be out shortly."

As he faded away into the crowd, my eyes wandered out of the veranda and to the causeway curling into the bosom of Remas. The crowd's mingling chats was a constant bubbling of sound, littered with laughter. Out in the streets a dog barked in the distance as men sang. It was good to be back in Tilea. My gaze had only been gone for a moment, and I turned back to Camilla and cleared my throat. She turned to look at me, and I produced a rose. She gave a delighted laugh, but her eyes searched amongst the flowers for other roses. I smiled before she asked: "Where did you get this?"

"I stole it from the table over there." I admitted. I felt it would be put to better use by me than an empty table, and thankfully she took it. As I leaned back, a bottle of champagne was placed between us with two curvaceous glasses set down. The waiter poured each of us a generous cup and left the bottle to use at our leisure. I took my glass in my hand. "I imagine you must get many flowers and dinners. I'm afraid I likely won't stand out a great bit amongst your suitors, but I hope you don't blame me for trying."

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"Good suggestion," I said absently, still trying to process what had just happened. Of course, it was just my luck that there was a Brettonian dignitary at court when I made the small jibe, and someone must have heard Schulz speech in reikspiel and mine in Tilean and had informed the man. That I could predict. However, I had never had a beautiful woman stand up for me before. Usually it was the opposite, and I found it quite intriguing.

Before we left, I suggested we change clothes. I was in my travel attire, and found my overly large closet could accommodate both men and woman searching for clothing to wear at court. I insisted we put on something more appropriate for an outing. For my part, I found dark, well pressed trousers, a white button down, and a fashionable silk jacket of midnight blue, like my eyes. I still carried my staff, however. A close observer from the procession earlier in the day might recognize it, but it was no guarantee and I used it for self defense, as well as a mark of my station if we are stopped at the gate and wishing to return.

Once Camilla donned her own apparel, we left my rooms and found ourselves stepping outside, going through a small, lesser used path through the gardens to reach the streets beyond the gates. The gardens were large and filled with foliage one would never see in the northern forests past the grey mountains. oxwood trees, Tilean cypress trees, laurel, yew, rosemary, and junipers, accompanied by a myriad of flowers from across the old world. I always appreciated natural beauty, and I marked the spot for later so I might come an enjoy it when I was less busy with a woman.

Camilla and I had just made it to the arch that led out of the garden when a giant stepped into view and blocked our path. Ok, I embellish. He wasn't a giant like in my native homeland. He was merely a large man, black bearded with oafish features and a barrel chest I nearly bumped into. In his belt was a pistol and an axe that I doubt I could wield even two handed.

"Excuse me, signor. The lady and I were merely going out to enjoy the night life," I assured him, hoping this was just a misunderstanding. I sighed when two other men appeared at our flanks. They weren't as large, but they were armed with sideswords and appraised us wearing grim faces. Sigmar, why do you test me so?

"You have insulted Marco Telli, the greatest of Reman princes, and made an enemy of Guy Du Ponce. I am here to rectify that and inform you such slights are not to be ignored in this city." He growled in Tilean. It was amazing how the language sounded so sensual when it came from Camilla yet so uncouth from this ugly ogre. I guided Camilla behind me, unwilling to not take responsibility for my own transgressions, as unfair as it was. "Come with us and beg your forgiveness before Prince Telli, and offer him your services during your stay here."

"And the girl?" I asked.

"We would take care of her. She would be in good hands." He said, smiling wickedly. I looked at Camilla, and then back at the large man. He saw me hesitate, and said: "I would take take this offer, if I were you."

"If you were me, you would be far better looking."

Camilla chortled, and the large man suddenly grabbed me by my jacket collar and fully lifted me a foot off the pebble-strewn garden floor. I had to open my big mouth, as usual, I thought. I should have looked for more potential exits beyond physical contact, but I do have somewhat of an ego. Anyway, so close were we now, I couldn't even get my staff in line to strike. I felt his hot, putrid breath billow over me and I almost retched. He glared at me, tightening his grip. "Wrong move, pretty man."

"I apologize. Sometimes I ge-" Midway through my fake apology, my head snapped forward. I felt more than heard a crunch as the big man's nose broke instantly. He grunted in surprise and pain, loosening his grip on me. I kneed him in the groin and he dropped me entirely. Landing nimbly, I spun my staff in two hands and stabbed the butt end of the staff into his stomach, doubling him over. In the same fluid movement, I redirected my staff to fly up and over and crash down onto the back of the man's head. He simply hadn't the breath or the time to defend himself, and luckily for me, the other two men were a bit too stunned their big friend had been dispatched in a matter of seconds to do anything meaningful in that short span of time. I used this lull in the potential battle to requisition the large tilean's pistol, cock the hammer and aim it in the direction of the two bravos.

"Well gentlemen, I'm certain you feel this is quite awkward for you. You have two choices. One, drop your swords and run, or two, fight and I promise by the light of Sigmar I will send you to hell." I told them, and they could hear it in my voice that I meant it. My casual manner had fled me, and I admit, I was fully prepared to end their lives.

"You only have one shot, signor." One reasoned after a heavy pause, gauging the distance between he and I with his eyes.

"You are right. I'll simply shoot the first one to step forward, and then I will duel the next one for the safety of my lady friend here. It would be rather poetic, wouldn't you say?" I let the question hang in the air, and behind me I heard a soft groan on the ground. I shoved my foot back, smacking the big one's head into the pebbles to keep him down. The two swordsmen were paused by both fear and pragmatism. Sure, perhaps one would survive and succeed, and sure, perhaps the pistol ball would not end one of their lives, or perhaps the pistol was not even loaded. But I could tell, after they weighed the options and placed into account my staff-work, that they considered the situation and found the potential benefits did not outweigh the risks. As one, they took off their sword belts and dropped their weapons, before walking further into the gardens away from Camilla and I.

When all was silent, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Now that is what I call a high stakes bluff! What a rush. Here my lady-" I flipped the pistol, catching it by the barrel and handing it to her. "-You may keep that as a souvenir, to adopt a brettonian word. Now, I believe we were going to dinner? I'm quite famished after that. Soldiers always say bloodletting grants an appetite and I find they're right on that account." I found it also made me quite in the mood to bed a woman, but I wouldn't announce that to her. It was very poor manners, after all.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

We were allowed to land in one of the more high-security docking areas of Hive Orcus, about midway down the upper hive. Those representing mercantile interests of any real size were granted the same respect as dignitaries or adeptus-arbites agents. I had Lazarus purposefully cloaked so as not to arouse suspicion, though if one were to ascertain he was an member of the adeptus mechanicus, he was merely here to check our stock make sure the mechanicus' interests were being seen to by my own fake business.

We were greeted by a administratum agent by the name of Vrandiun Ogodai, who seemed accommodating enough, and he seemed to have a notable interest in the swivel guns we had implemented onto the shuttle. Evidently Vrandium had been the son of a wealthy merchant himself, distributing crafts of that nature across the imperium. It would place his family fairly close to Sol and the naval families of Jupiter, though I did not recognize the familial name of Ogodai. After speaking some time about the shuttle in the anteroom, we were guided to a tram that led us to the lifts near the heat sink at the center.

Once we arrived, it had taken us three hours to descend from the upper spire, riding a succession of increasingly decrepit and rusted elevators reserved for authorized personnel. I had fed Vrandium a well crafted story on needing to see the assemblies in the mid-hive where the factorums were held. We were granted passes and access to all but the underhive and the tallest spire where the upper echelons were located. We had been given three days leave and a location in the mid-hive to stay and recoup when need be.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a member of the adeptus arbites. I was surprised. Local arbites are common enough, but a member of the adeptus were only there on special occasions, such as riots that could destroy the integrity of a hive city or an invasion of underhive mutants threatening to spill up into the mid-hive levels. The doors on the lift had barely opened before we were greeted by the fellow, a thickly muscled man with a brutish visage clad in carapace armor and a helm that hid his visage save for his square chin.

"Welcome to Hive Orcus, sir Deckard. I am officer Ortega." He said, and though I could not see his eyes, I could discern he was looking at my retinue, including the four men Urien had granted me. "I see you have come well prepared. Smart, but no need. I will see you are adequately protected as you go about your business."

"I wasn't aware we were in need of protection. This isn't the underhive." I said, allowing the confusion to show on my face. The very real emotion serving me well in this instance.

"True, and normally you would be right. We have had some problems with the gangers in the lower hab zones, and I was recently wounded. They sent me up here to be a... guide, and to keep you safe, just in case. Everything is under control."

Had I announced myself as an inquisitor, I could have the man before me tell me right now exactly what he was hiding from me. I know talk meant for the public when I hear it, but as it was, I merely inclined my head, and allowed him to lead on.

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

Dirk had been in worse places. Barku's Teeth was a moderately successful dive that served anyone from thugs to businessmen to line workers ending their day at the hab block. Small scripts of bright text generated at the corner of his visor, analyzing the potential weaponry of every passerby that stumbled or sauntered across the floor. The smell of nox-sticks and alcohol permeated the dank air of the cantina, Dirk caring too little to seal off his helm's access to outside air. He heard the gasps and guffaws coming from the table over, where Jocasta marveled a crowd of nobodies on her exploits at the resort.

The armored bounty hunter glanced their way every so often, but otherwise ignored the spectacle. He was content with his liquor and the peace the deafening music brought. He wished he could say he got lost in the drink and the revelry, but Dirk never let his guard down. His gloved hand in easy reach of one of his DMX blasters. Before him, a blue-skinned Zerulian dancer gyrated against a table as men threw credit chips at her-half naked form while a table over two burly Hexanagallions grappled in an arm wrestling competition as men screamed for their chosen xenos to win.

To the right, a brawl suddenly broke out. Three four-eyed Xiclon's got in a scrap with two humans and an aquatic Falmorian, which spread to the table over when they capsized a game-table. The fighting was so fierce and the screaming so loud, Dirk could hear them even without modifying his helm to suppress other audio. In the din, someone drew an electro-baton, blue lightning crackling amongst the dark silhouettes of the bodies and flying in an arc that seared the eye. Dirk found the fight far more interesting than Jocasta's story, even if she was admittedly nice to look at. He lifted his visor up to the cusp of his nose and sipped his drink, and his entertainment was interrupted when a handsomely dressed man approached out of the crowd, taking a seat in front of Dirk even as the bouncers streamed by them and rushed to the fight.

Dirk didn't need his visor to tell him the man was unarmed. He moved both too casual and too skittish all at once, his smart suit too tight to hide anything above a quill-gun, and he seemed entirely uncomfortable being in such a locale. His hair was shaved on its left side and swept to fall over his pate on his right. On his right hand, two steel marks were embedded into his skin to signify both an allegiance to a space-trade guild and to provide a means of exchanging currency through a neural link.

"Are you, by chance, the acclaimed bounty hunter Dirk Crimson?" He asked with a posh accent. Dirk had a sense it wasn't the accent he grew up with, but one he had grown acclimated to from long hours practice. When Dirk didn't answer immediately, the man's eyes traveled to the table opposite them. "And I assume that is the spitfire, Jocasta Ap'Gwyn."

"I don't take freelance contracts any longer. I have an agreement with the guild." Dirk said.

"Would you friend have such scruples?" He pressured, but did not move to engage her. Dirk wasn't interested in playing games, and whoever this man was, he had no idea just how close Dirk was to gunning him down here and now for interrupting his night. After a long silence, the newcomer drew in a breath and continued. "That's too bad. We were prepared to pay you two million credits to find and kill a low-life vagabond. And another two when you return with proof of his demise. If half the things I've heard about you is true, it should be a walk on the parsec for you."

"Who are you?"

The man gave a tight lipped smile. "I am Bohemond Valgrayne, and I represent the interests of Phyraelon Deadstar. Have you heard of him?"

Dirk had. He was allegedly the head of a conglomerate of illicit goods, including but not limited to the trafficking of weapons, drugs, counterfeit identification chips, and even people. Evidently no one had ever seen his face, and some wondered if he even existed. The conglomerate operated in three systems and was rumored to have infiltrated varying levels of eighteen planetary governments. All of it was hearsay, but Dirk had known enough people who had made dealings with the Phyraelon Conglomerate to know there was at least some truth to it. That also meant that if he accepted a contract, it would be very discreet. Perhaps he could take a job from this man, even if technically it was not allowed per the rules. Dirk had enough sway with Volkovax to have the massive xenos forgive him, regardless.

Dirk touched a small receiver on his wrist, which caused Jocasta's datascreen to grind against her hip, indicating she wrap it up and join him.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

990M41
Planet Gravemire
To Inquistor Lord Moredecai

Hiveworlds.

The putrid and rotten husk of a comatose planet, riddled with sharp, dilapidated growths the shape of inverted icicles that pierced the clouds as if trying to escape the very world they crushed under their weight. Two hundred million souls of the emperor's children lived, worked, fucked, and died in each and every city. The manufacture of steel and silica within each city's industrial sectors kept the economic blood flowing, but it produced the same, most precious resource of every hive world: it's people. Brave men and women sent to fight and die on the front lines at every corner of known space, and 73% of them came from worlds such as these.

Gravemire was much like others of its kind. From my vantage point on the deck, I could see the great mountains of rockcrete and steel spiraling into the sky. Their size nagged at me, as if something so large couldn't be real. Each was accented by turrets and parapets and eroded by wind and time. On the monitor, the Caledonia prompted the planet's readings. The planet was mostly comprised of endless wastes of swamps of sulphur and liquid ammonia surfaced after its crust had eroded away from the toxic chemicals vomited out of the hives. The inhospitable landscape and the large, mutant beasts that had adapted to its environment made ground travel virtually impossible on the planet surface. The world looked a sickly ball of blue marred by dark pox-marks that offended the eye. I didn't like hives. I found them hot, asphyxiating, and confining. The fact the last hive I had entered had led to Kronus's death did not help matters, either.

I would make sure something of that nature did not happen again.

"We're being hailed on the Vox Caster. Hive Orcus has granted permission to dock." The sub-light navigator told Urien. He looked to me for confirmation, and then got his man to work. It was good to be back on the Caledonia, as guilty as I always felt administering it for my missions. Urien and anyone else would tell me I only do so for the good of the imperium, and the fact that they are right does not make it any easier.

"Am I going with you this time?" Urien asked in his brutal accent. I regarded him, and dismissed the notion after a thought.

"No, we'll be fine."

"If you won't take me, grab a few of my boys. They'll do well in a pinch." He leaned in and whispered. "They get restless on the ship sometimes. It would be good to let a few out to breathe some fresh air."

I almost snorted at the notion of a hive being fresh air, but I nodded my acquiescence. I knew they would follow my orders as if they came from Urien's mouth, and they were well known for their close combat capabilities. I told Urien to give me his four best and meet us at the hanger. My team was already assembled and awaiting me near the newly modified shuttle, courtesy of Lazarus (as well as a bit of my own handiwork).

Emmaline, Clara, Selencia, and Laxarus awaited me at the shuttle bay, their gear and clothes already packed. Lucius was in the altar room, ordered to keep calm and practice breathing exercises prescribed by Selencia at Emmaline's insistence. I deemed him too conspicuous to follow us into the hive, but to be ready for any time we would need his assistance. I hoped not to employ Urien and Lucius at all, but in the event of a complication, it was good knowing they had our backs. Behind me, four burly men of Caledonia strode up in their fatigues, each armed with curious, archaic cudgels with the arcane oghma symbols of Catoc writ across their lengths.

It was time to move.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I watched her with interest, silently marveling at her manner and how her beauty blossomed with every subtle movement, a smile playing on my face as I considered the graceful woman.

I think I might romance her.

I did not take the jab with offense. I have many faults, but if there is a virtue of mine beyond smooth talking, lying, and sex, it's that I rarely take things personally. It has made my rivals quite vexed that I'm virtually bullet-proof when it comes to barbs, and if I am ever knocked down, I bounce back and bounce back hard. I sauntered over to her, redirecting my steps subtly just before I reached her and leaned against the bar, snagging a wine bottle and uncorking it with three, practiced twists.

"Camilla de la Trantio, it is my absolute pleasure to meet you. I would take your hand and kiss it, but I'm not quite that charming." I admitted, and took a generous swill of the wine, before offering it to her. Once she took it, I made a show of reclining against the bar counter, my right elbow resting upon its top as my left was free to gesticulate when need be. I switched to speaking Tilean to introduce myself to her on equal terms. There's nothing like conversing in someone's mother tongue. "I am Kian Cran'Darak, Priest of Sigmar. I'm afraid I'm not one of the famed warrior priests, but we are all dangerous." I assured her with a glint in my eyes. It was not a boast. One had to be proficient in self defense if one was to travel the roads to proselytize or heal the sick, as I was quite good with the staff and with my hands. Of course, I refrained from informing her that my main strategy in times of conflict was usually to run if it was something altogether serious like a beastman or a bandit I couldn't negotiate with. I tried to keep my battles in a verbal arena.

"Let's keep that a secret," I said conspiratorially, placing a finger to my lips. I had a good eye for people, and I could tell if I tried to champion myself as some great warrior, this clever woman would see through it very quickly. "I've already made an impression here, as you've stated. Best people consider me intimidating as well as interesting."

It came to me then that perhaps Camilla could help me in more ways than one, and of course I could return the favor. I wanted to know the ins and outs of the vast villa without being tracked every moment by agents of the three triumverates, and while she told me of her association with them, something told me she wasn't sworn to their service quite as much as I was beholden to my lord Sigmar.

"I know we just met, but would you be interested in dinner? Just because the ambassador has seen fit to take a nap doesn't mean I'm not famished." She handed me the bottle back so that I might procure another swig, and my fingers brushed hers as I took the bottle. "I don't see anything else exciting happening tonight anyway, and I confess I have no idea where to get something to eat. Then we can come back here and enjoy the bar again."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

As the dark waves crashing into the confused masses of the heretics and slaves, I felt a twinge of regret for the laborers. One man had just climbed out of a hole, fear and confusion in his eyes before he even saw the oncoming waters. The swell washed over him before he could even cry out and sent him back into the hole he had dug, evidently being the digger of his own grave. I know the reputation on Inquisitors. That we would signal the end of entire worlds in order to stamp out the smallest infection of chaos. Perhaps some of us have that strength of will, and lack of regard for their fellow man. I do not, and to see even a hundred men and women under the thrall of chaos being engulfed by the returning landscape was not what I wished for.

But even so, my mind fled their deaths quickly when I saw Emmaline fall. I admit I was selfish. She was the woman I cared for...

---

"She'll be fine," Selencia told me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, and we shared a lingering gaze for a moment before I was convinced.

The walls around us were stone and mortar, built in the style of stone fortresses of ancient terra. Crossing Town was a small port by imperial standards, but a castle dominated the center of the settlement and kept a hanger behind it's large walls, hidden just the same as the modern servitors and specialized equipment held within. I had revealed myself and my station to the Portmaster, and he had been all too accomodating granting my team a small wing in the citadel. I had spent most of my time by Emmaline's side, almost as much as Selencia. Her dark hair tied back and her jacket removed, she had worked nonstop to diagnose Emmaline and purge purge her of impurities. Psychic overload was very hard to treat, but if anyone could keep her stable, it was Selencia.

She didn't disappoint.

I gave her a smile, a rarity for me. She commented on it. "My, my, does the Inquisitor finally show a bit of his old self?" She teased.

"Old self meaning?"

She sat down on the cushioned chair across from me. The drapes hid the sunlight, but there was still a soft glow that surrounded the attractive woman. It brought back memories of a time before I was an Inquisitor, when I had first realized just how delightful she was. Perhaps if I hadn't been gone those five years to find Bahometus, I might have told her so. But I waved the thought away, knowing as lovely as she was, Emmaline was taken my interest more swiftly and completely than any woman. Selencia broke my thoughts. "Meaning back when you followed Kronus around like a puppy. You used to smile a lot then."

"That's because I was stupid," I told her, and turned my gaze to Emmaline. Her left arm exposed, there was an IV feeding nutrients into her system.

"You're still a fool, just a glum one," she replied, but I didn't hear her. Emmaline's eyes opened up, and immediately I was on my feet. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something more elaborate than what came out, but the only words that escaped her lips were a soft 'frack,' again. I smiled again. My strong hand reached over and brushed her cheek gently.

"How are you?" I asked, care in my voice.

"Feeling like Lucius threw me down a mineshaft. W-where are we?"

"At Crossing Town. Don't worry, the Caledonia will be here in a few days."

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt felt his heart racing, and the horse ride wasn't helping calm it down. The past hour had been taxing on him, and even though he wouldn't trade it for the world, he was on edge. The landscape passing by him with a picturesque quality a poor man might think only existed in fairy tales was adding to the sense of this being a dream. Luckily Silke's voice kept him grounded, and after a few miles on the estate, he found himself calming.

He took a few deep breathes, and the two stopped before a copse of trees. When Silke presented him with the options. They all sounded lovely, and he weighed the options. The cabin would be interesting, but it seemed a bit too romantic after recent events. The forest was nice, but he bet they would traverse through much of it going anywhere. He supposed that just left the lake.

"The lake sounds good to me, what do you think?" He asked. He grinned at her teasing.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Though I thought I had procured all the lessons I would have for today..." He asked facetiously. He almost wanted to add that she would have plenty of time to teach him riding once they were married, but he felt that would be a bit too on the nose. It was strange, but he felt this trepidation of hers almost a weakness, and from the woman he felt was impenetrable. He wouldn't dwell on it. "Just make sure to come back for me if I get lost. I'm hopeless, I swear."

He kicked his horse into a light canter, having the beast trot around her own steed to showcase he was ready. If he could survive lessons with her brother, he could stomach a few miles ride to see a pristine lake with the lady of the house.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

The 'royal' guards, if they could be granted such a title, had led myself and chamberlain schulz out of the throne room, though not from whence we came. Evidently we would be taken directly to our suites. They were not far, to my delight. Walking for weeks on end had given me a taste for luxury and relaxation. The corridors were spacious, with large archways that led to other wings of the great structure. One could tell where an exit was close, for those arches were framed by men with pikes and morion helms, pistols and sideswords at their hips. I saw different symbols emblazoned on their tabards, and while I appreciated that each guard likely had a different allegiance, I had no way of knowing to whom or to what outfit they belonged to. I likely needed to bribe a local in order to find out, but that was a worry for tomorrow.

The chamberlain was led into a moderately sized suite fit for a valued guest, connected to a bathing chamber with a well stocked larder and extensively furnished closet. I felt somewhat envious of him as he waved me away to take a nap, but when I was introduced to my own suite, to my surprise it was even more grand! I gave a suggestive whistle as I marveled at the vast chamber and the lush bed.

"Shallya's tits there's even a bar," I breathed, gazing at a counter on the left side of the room with glasses and bottles of rare vintages arrayed on racks. Behind me was an archway framed by large curtains that fed into balcony overlooking the central courtyard. For a moment, I was torn. No way was this truly meant for myself. I should go and tell them there was a misunderstanding, that the chamberlain was the more honored guest and I was just his humble servant. I knew the triumverate knew that as well, and yet the guards had escorted me here...

But then I thought, am I not entitled to a small taste of a lavish lifestyle after all of my hard work? All I needed to do was keep this a secret from Captain Muller and it would be commented on not at all. As I pondered this, I heard a woman's singsong voice filtering through the door that led to the chamber. I turned, staff still in my hand and attempting to give a serene look fit for my station when the same woman I had stumbled into, apparently thrice now, walked in.

"How did you...?" I asked, and then I realized that courtesans and other 'entertainment' might be allowed overnight. It wasn't yet late afternoon, but I curbed my question and instead placed the staff against the wall and approached her. She was even more sumptuous up close, though something told me she wasn't here for just pleasure. Her eyes were too curious for that.

"After embarrassing myself in the street, I didn't expect to see you again, much less in the courtroom. My master is asleep so I'm afraid you're stuck with just me." I said with faux lament, approaching her easily. When she gazed around the large room, I placed a finger to my lips and gave a wink.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"Who are you!?" I demanded, unmoved as the enemy rushed to their master's aid, reloading their lasguns. A few knelt and readied their weapons in unison, but a burst of bullets rattled across them like acid rain. I didn't have to turn behind me to know it was Clara. Blood spurted from their shoulders and abdomens, one managed to scream and fired wildly, but his shots hit naught but air. Emmaline reached me and pleaded for me to move.

"You should know, brother." The other inquisitor said as Emmaline grabbed at my arm. He smiled, and the image was burned into my eyes and memory, and it would stay for years to come. "It's never that easy."

"Hadrian!" She screeched, and like a dam breaking I felt my limbs loosen and I moved, turning and hurrying out of the courtyard as lasbolts scythed through the smoke, scorching the eldritch rock of the walls. Emmaline and I reached the others, but we didn't slow. It seemed the emperor was with us, because we managed to follow the main thoroughfare and follow its winding path back out of the impossible landscape with only the dizziness of the warp to contend with. I felt dried mud crunch under my boots as I stepped back onto the blasted land of the old settlement.

For a moment, we almost made it out without being noticed, but the guards overseeing the slave labor turned and saw our desperation. Selencia stumbled and I caught her, and it was clear we weren't the locals guiding the heretics we had masqueraded as. There would be no reason the same group would run out with more or lesser numbers. As the dregs approached with their weapons, barking their bastardized gothic, I raised my hand, presenting three fingers, then four, then crooking one finger to slide down the front of my face.

"What was that?" Emmaline asked, hoping it was something good no doubt.

"After six months you should know by now, Em." Selencia said. "It's for the contingency."

Even as she spoke the last word, the closest mutant to their left lost the upper half of his body. It took a second for the sonic-boom to hit them, spraying mud and fetid water and bloody shrapnel half a kilometer in every direction. It gave everyone pause, all save me. "Come on! We need to get to the dock!" I cried, pulling out my handgun and dispatching two men to our right with well placed shots. Another man lost his legs, again, courtesy of Lazarus's transuranic arqebus.

As we moved, I spoke to Emmaline. "Can you get to Lucius from here? Speak to him?"

"Maybe..."

"Tell him to break the wall," I said. "Flood it!"