POOHEAD189

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

True to his word, Lazarus awoke me in what seemed an all-too short amount of time later. I was informed it was early in the morning by the standards of Gravemire, and as expected, my oldest friend also provided me with a wheelchair. He knew I would demand to be out of the bed at the earliest opportunity, though I demanded to be changed out of this hospital shift before I was brought anywhere. I was granted my previous attire, freshly cleaned and even still a bit warm. It was true I felt about as weak and frail as I ever have, but I was not to be dissuaded.

"Now inform me of the situation," I said to Lazarus, even as Selencia walked up. Her hair was tied up but messy as, true to form, she had insisted on helping the staff with other patients even as she checked on me periodically. I did not have to tell her not to follow. She was my physician and no order I could give would have kept her there, regardless.

"It seems Arbites Ortega is innocent, at least as far as Emmaline deems. However, she and Clara have gone to an unknown location and I know not where it is."

"What?" I asked, and my mind raced as I tried to surpress my urge to burst out of my chair and go running off to find her. I sighed. "No matter, take me to Ortega. And find Emmaline and Clara on the vox. If they can be found, bring them back here. I want a full report immediately."

Selencia did just that, reaching into her smart jacket and placing a commlink up to her ear, phoning in to Emmaline's ear piece. As soon as the frequency was dialed, she yelped when a loud, blaring bit of static tore through her device. Even I could hear it from my sitting position, and I knew only an intense flare of warp energy could destroy a frequency in such a manner. I swore just as we turned the corner, Lazarus pulling me to a stop outside of the interrogation room. Two of the bully boys stood up, putting away a small stone they were using as a board piece, a curious game the men of the Caledonia were obsessed with when they finished their shifts.

"At ease, I need to see the man inside."

"Good to see you well, sir." The one on the left said in a thick accent. "You can go in of course, but he's out cold. The blonde did something strange to him, and he's not responding to anything right now. She said he will be well after some rest at least..."

"I can explain," a familiar voice said, trepidation transparent in her tone. I turned my head and saw Emmaline in her severe garb, Clara standing with her, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Emmaline sounded. "I can explain everything. But can Clara and I talk to you? In private?"

I raised an eyebrow, my senses still feeling somewhat disconnected to the world around me. My body felt like lead and my head was stuffed, but I nodded, even if it was strange to ask for a private word when I would not hide anything from Lazarus or Selencia, or any of the Caledonia's crew for that matter. "I was going to ask for a report on all that's happened anyway, I guess we can do it in the closest vacant office. Selencia, see to Ortega. You two-" I motioned for the Caledonia brutes. "Go in there with her and make sure she's safe. Lazarus, we'll be out in a moment."

Stubbornly, I began to weakly wheel myself toward one of the open doors. Whatever Emmaline had to tell me in private, I could not have guessed what lengths she had gone to for information...

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

My recollection of the events is more lucid than I would have liked. Perhaps it was the emperor granting Emmaline a constant reminder that I still lived, and though the pain was almost unbearable on my end, I would not have had it any other way.

My world was a flickering light. Sometimes I would be awake for many moments, and others I was lost in a swirl of blackness I could feel bearing down on me, but like a man in deep water I was unable to break free to the surface. I recall the aircar, where Selencia tended my wound and Emmaline watched me with wide eyes, fraught with worry. There was another man in there I did not recognize, whom later I was told was one of the physicians in the emergency vehicles out front. I recall my hand brushing paving as I was carried, and I remember the surgery room just before I was put under by Selencia's doing. When next I woke, my throat felt drier than Tallarn and my eyes were as heavy as an astartes ceramite. And yet I forced them open, and though I was tied down to a bed, curved to allow my upper body to rest above a flat surface, I managed to shrug my shoulders and tug the restraints.

"Ma'am!" A medical assistant cried, my sudden awareness shocking her from her bored stupor and sending her scrambling out of her seat. I was in a beige room with no windows, a door to the left with a 'vacant' sign indicating a restroom and two doors on the right, one likely leading into the hall and the other for some unknown purpose. Perhaps a closet. An IV was in my arm and various equipment reading my vitals were arrayed to my left and right. Food was placed along a small standing desk next to my bed, the room cluttered with chairs and potted plants and a tele-screen hanging at the corner.

"What..." I started, but it came out as a croak. I summoned my breath. "What day is it? How many days have I been out?"

"Ma'am! He's awake!" The assistant cried into the hallway.

I should not have done this, but I did not get shot in this god-forsaken hive to be ignored by the staff, and my worry for my team and Emmaline burned a fire in my chest. "How long have I been out?" I asked, using my will. The woman almost leaped from the mental shock, stricken by the sudden assault.

"It's the same day," She answered simply. "The early hours of the morning."

"Where is my team?"

"Doctor Selencia and the mechanicus thing are approaching down the hall. Two large men accompany them. I don't know where the blonde and the brunette are, or the other two large brutes." She responded obediently, and her slack jawed expression drew me out of my single-minded determination to squeeze information and I felt a small modicum of shame for overpowering her like this. I let her go as gently as I could, but she stumbled onto the floor all the same. Selencia stood in the doorway, shock intermingled with worry and anger.

"Hadrian Drakos you absolute idiot!" She exclaimed, wiping her untidied dark hair out of her face and kneeling down to help the woman. She had evidently fainted, and that made two of us nearly. My energy was almost spent already. "Throne, what did you do to her?"

"Kronus always said he had a way with women," Lazarus pipped in, his voice monotone and yet I could sense an unwavering sense of humor in him.

"Where is Emmaline?" I asked hoarsely. "What's happened?"

Selencia ignored my question to let me stew as she tended to her newest patient. I supposed if Emmaline was in dire trouble, she would not be playing games with me. Lazarus stepped passed them and bore down on me with a look I had not seen on him for quite some time.

"Rest boy," He said, and at the moment I did not question the 'boy,' though it had been at least a decade since he referred to me as such. All it did was made me tired.

"Just answer the question." I said to him.

"Emmaline and Clara are interrogating Arbites Ortega in a room three halls away. Two of Urien's men are outside standing watch." He informed me.

"Ortega?" I asked, swallowing to parch my throat. "Where are we?"

"In the administratum embassy just above the lower hive. Better medical equipment here, and many holding rooms for those less cooperate. Now rest. I'll wake you as soon as I know something. It's not often you get a second chance."

"What?" I asked as my world grew dim.

Lazarus's words were the last I heard before I was gone from the waking world: "Oh, yes. For a few moments there, you were dead."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The rattle and clang of machinery echoed in the din of the now mostly vacant halls of the manufactora. After we had ascended the stairs, I saw little in the way of clues. The floor where the cultist had run looked nearly identical to the other rotors and steel grinders, save for a sticky black substance I could reasonably guess was some form of tobacco splotted along the handle of the machine. I rubbed it between two gloved fingers and sniffed it gently, my suspicions confirmed. It was good it wasn't a chaos substance, and yet it still meant we had nothing of else of substance, either. As I examined further, Emmaline's question reached my ears.

I rose from my crouch and looked at her. The others had swept across the rest of the manufactora, leaving us alone. Despite her intelligence and her savvy, as well as her incredible luck, she was still relatively green to this kind of life. I often tried to appear unbiased when it came to speaking with her in front of the others to keep a show of favoritism to be the furthest thing from their minds, but I believe I sometimes over-corrected myself and became cold in front of her, and that was the last thing I wanted her to think. I removed my glove as I spoke.

"You've done remarkably well in the short time I've known you, Emma. You did your best, and at the crux of it, I would rather a cultist of the great enemy to be dead rather than escape. I know you feel as if you're here partly because of our..." I did not know what to call us, really. I cared for her, but was it love? I was too busy and preoccupied to have really wrestled with the question. "our relationship, but if I felt you weren't a good aide, you would have stayed on Pacitus. You're here because you get results, and I would not have any other psyker by my side in the Imperium, even if Malcador the Sigilite walked up and offered his services."

Looking back, I realized I had a small undertone of feeling in my voice that could only come from a man speaking a woman, but I still meant it and I have never felt like it was poor wording. I saw a smile blossom on her face, and I allowed myself to smile back. The smell of rust and various gasses could not ruin the moment.

Unfortunately, the bullet that blew a hole through my kidney pulled it off. The gunshot echoed a fraction of a moment after the projectile had entered the small of my back and I fell to my knees before I even knew what had caused me to stumble. Blood began leaking from my abdomen, and vaguely I remembered trying to staunch the flow as crimson dribbled down my shirt and fell through the grating to the lower levels. It didn't hurt at first. It was only a pressure and a feeling of cold, and behind me the shadowy figure lined up another shot.

"Die, Inquisitor Drakos."

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I found myself lured into the relatively short explanation of her life. The bewitching brunette left out just enough to where I found I had questions, but I almost did not want to blow away the veneer of the mystery. If this night was going the way I thought it might, I would have plenty of time to find out later, after all. As she explained I partook of the delectable food and found by the grace of Sigmar I missed Tilean cuisine. The zest was immaculate and the champagne gave it a tang that almost overwhelmed my senses.

"Courts in Tilea sound more of a sociable affair than ones in my home country, I find. Then again, I suppose any idiot who's father has a title can be welcomed in it for at least a brief visit. That or kill an insane number of beastman. I've met a fellow named Wulfhart who did exactly that. Emperor Franz was so impressed he made up a royal position for him on the spot. I wish I was there, it still makes me laugh." I said, marveling at how brutish that must sound to someone here. My chin rested casually on my hand as I spoke. Elbows on the table wasn't strictly polite but I felt we were growing more accustomed to one another and it right at the current moment. I was afraid I was being far too open with my appreciating her beauty, but then again we did not go out to speak on our political leanings, as fascinating as that no doubt would be.

"I foresee my time at this court will have a considerably less worth than you, despite my introduction. Luckily I'm adaptable too," I said with a smirk, and the music swelled as there was a brief pause between us. I took another bite of my meal and downed the champagne, before dabbing my lips with the cloth. "Not to mix business with pleasure, but you mentioned dancing. Could I trouble you for a dance?" I was already out of my seat, hand extended with an easy smile. "If you're adaptable enough, of course." I added playfully.

I was a passable dancer. Nothing to write home about, but I had been on my fair share of dance floors and picked up a few pointers even if I never quite had formal training. However, I prided myself on learning on the fly and generally when I danced with a woman, I felt as if then we had become properly introduced. "I'd be interested in learning a thing or two on tilean dancing, I'm sure my garish northern footwork could use a lesson."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"Care to explain, Deckard? Well, I suppose that's not your real name, is it." Ortega grumbled. It was hard to tell if it was an accusation.

The broad shouldered arbites stood with my retinue and I just outside of the emergency door of the manufactora. The air still smelt of ozone and wet from the artificial rain that had graced the lower hive an hour previously. Out front, emergency vehicles were parked and lights flashing as crews began to escort workers out as other maintenance crews began to clean up the chemical spills with the appropriate kit of absorbent material to sponge away the acids and bases that cluttered the floor. I had insisted on bringing the body with us to be examined, and to Ortega's credit, he did not protest. Three of the bully boys had to carry different parts of the bleeding mass of flesh out with us, but they somehow managed.

I opened my jacket and showed him the Aquila that marked my office. His face was unreadable behind his visor, but I could feel his apprehension rise with his realization. Emmaline stood beside me, and she shifted, fidgeting with her hair like always when she was nearly blown up. Wordlessly I slid out of my jacket and draped it around her shoulders, a small moment of intimacy I could afford her now that I had deigned to reveal myself to the arbites. Lazarus's binary bleated into the air as he knelt down before the corpse to analyze it, having already inspected Emmaline for chemical burns of gunshot wounds.

"I should have known," Ortega said, and he cursed. "You would only be here if it was something important. Who was this man?"

My eyes narrowed, and I could tell he realized he addressed me with a lack of proper respect. He added a small 'lord inquisitor' to save face. I did not hold myself to any high standard, but I would be referred to as my station demanded or else one might get ideas on halting my investigations or withholding resources or information from me because I allowed smaller, more petty matters to slide. I reached into the jacket currently adorning Emmaline and pulled out a diagnostor I had sequestered on my person, kneeling down with Lazarus to inspect the corpse.

"This man was a cultist, in all due likelyhood. A cultist from a world half the segmentum away, connected with a plot that involves the murder of various subjects of the emperor, including one on my team." I informed the arbites, not wishing to give specifics yet.

"The tattoo is a match, and is the pigment and lipids of his skin, matching the locals of Havenos with little variation." Lazarus informed me. My diagonostor whirred and arose with a red signal atop its head, signifying an unknown disease ran rampant through his body, kept together through some unknown means. Immediately I knew it was whatever warped plague had ravaged the tribes on the feral world. I stepped back and Lazarus joined me.

"Have this body burned, and bring physicians and a biologis if you can acquire one and check the other workers for pathogens, known and unknown. I cannot say for certain but there might be a plague loose on the planet. Even if that is a worry unfounded, it is best to check before something else untoward occurs. Meanwhile, my team and I will retrace our steps in the manufactora." I informed Ortega. He regarded me for many moments, wondering if he could refuse me or not. But inevitably he complied, voxxing in my orders to the overseers of the lower hive.

"Do you think the hive might be infected?" Emmaline asked softly.

"I don't know. Even if it isn't, this wouldn't be the only culprit in the city."

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt had found a comfortable spot, and the highbacked chairs that were cluttered around the hearth ironically serving a good barrier in which to lean against. The blankets were soft and warm, and Galt had to tell himself not to think how inviting Silke was as well. He knew circumstances were one thing, but he still felt like he did not belong. Here in this high class house in the middle of the woods, a lowly thief and a pretty highborne maiden. He sat upright unconsciously, not wanting to get too comfortable, even if that was very hard considering the fire and the blanket. Her thanks warmed him more than either, however, and he gave her a smile.

Alistair. He had never heard of him before. Losing siblings wasn't an uncommon occurrence when one grew up poor, and so he assumed that's what happened. Galt's parent's were lucky, in a fashion. None of their children had died in their early years. If one was dead now, Galt didn't know. He hadn't seen either in years. Thinking now, he wasn't sure he would even know where to look if he found he wanted to see them again. The thought did not make him sad, but gave him a certain bittersweet melancholy he did not quite know what to do with. Silke's story brought him back to reality, and he tried to imagine her as a little girl running into the cabin, chased by her brothers and laughing without a care.

"I have a brother and a sister." He admitted, looking into the fire, his dark eyes alight from the reflection. "Gregon's the oldest. Always thought he knew best. We used to wrestle and even make up stories together. And Mary is my younger sister. She was shy when she was young, but she got real mouthy as she grew up." He said with a smile that could have been a very soft smirk. It was clear he said it out of familial love rather than describing a talkative woman in any demeaning way. It sounded like something he would have told her because they were so close, or at least had been. "I haven't seen either for about twelve years. Our family couldn't pay for the home we lived in anymore, and one day we were evicted. The men that came for us took me away."

He glanced at Silke, and then got embarrassed at his choice of words. "Just to scare my parents, I think. But I escaped and made my way into the streets. It was stupid. I would have been back home in a week if I had sat quiet. I spent about five years alone before I found my folks again, but by that time my brother had moved out and my sister was getting married to some baker out in Heathsford. I didn't stay long, and I couldn't anyway. They were getting by well and couldn't afford another mouth, even if my ma cried when she saw me, and my dad probably did when I left. But I visited them when I could. Last I saw them was about half a year ago, but not my siblings. They're off doing Gods know what...."

He cleared his throat and was almost afraid to meet Silke's eyes. It was clear he took it all matter-of-fact, the damage so long ago it was a dull, familiar feeling. Even were he to find out one of his family had passed last he saw them, he probably wouldn't truly mourn until he came back for the funeral, and that was assuming he would even hear about it. "Sorry, I don't mean to bring the mood down. I did have a best friend. Stendan. He ran a schemes with me for years. I bet I could find him again, but ever since this whole...everything, it's not been at the front of my head, you know?"

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt's dark hair dripped onto the wooden tiles, though he ran his hands through his thick head of hair to help shake the water loose. For a single moment he was going to fret over his clothes, before he realized just how different of a worry that was from anything else in his life. The clothes were expensive, but remembered he could afford it. Galt had to tell himself he was simply glad to be in out of the rain and that his suggestion had some merit with Silke. She was right though, if their marriage proposal was going to work, he needed to be as careful as he could with her family, as well as anyone watching.

"Alright, I'll be right back," He informed her, making his way into the hall and beginning his task of fishing through the closets for something to wear. He wasn't going to fuss over it, wanting something simple and comfortable. Eventually he found a linen shirt and a handsome pair of dark breeches, along with a large roll of a blanket for Silke. He was a tad cold from the wet, but once he stripped the tunic and undershirt off, he felt better. Tossing them on the bed, he placed the stack of clothes he had gathered beside them and turned to look into the mirror.

He had the same lean, fit look to him. Old scars from past troubles ran along the ripples of his physique, glad to see his comfortable living hadn't really added on the pounds yet. He needed to be careful about that, if he wanted to keep the same look (and skills). He wasn't so sold on this life that he felt his old knowledge and abilities were now meaningless. He turned away and put on the simple outfit, glad for the soft, dry touch of the attire. Galt picked up the blanket and stepped back into the living room just as the fire began.

"That feels good," He said happily, and when he saw Silke he gave her a smile and held out the blanket, gesturing at it with his head. "I figured you could use it. It's pretty big, but it's soft. I guess it's one of the covers they use if the bedspreads are in need of washing."

Once Silk had done what she had to do herself, he set himself down before the fire, finding some cushions to use as a base for their lightly sore bottoms from riding. Or, perhaps it was only his rump that was sore, since he still needed some more experience on that aspect of high life. If she joined him, he would drape the covers over her however she would wish, and save a small bit for himself to appreciate the softness of it.

"Did you use to come here as a kid?" He asked, wanting to break the silence. Somehow, he felt slightly awkward. He still felt he could be himself around her, but being alone in a cabin with her, he was slightly nervous. Was it because of the proposal? Or just because of the locale? The romantic fire was not helping, which was an oddity since with any other woman he would find it a great benefit. The rain outside still hammered down on the house, but the sound was a welcome, rhythmic noise that quickly faded into the background.

'ELLO GOVNAH!

@POOHEAD189

I'm gonna be honest you caught me I've been slacking with my British duolingo lessons! Take me to jail officer!

@Returner

Don't worry, just takes some practice

'ELLO GOVNAH!

@POOHEAD189

Ello chap bloody hell that's a warm welcome! Grab this lass a cherry bomb and we'll be best wizard friends for life! (Though we won't tell the muggles lol)

@Returner

Righto I'll grab ye a pint it's only a coupla quid after that imma go get sum petrol for me jag

'ELLO GOVNAH!

'ELLO 'ELLO 'ELLO WELCOME TO THE PUB