The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

by DM B  

Timestamp: 7.333.999.M41

Location: Dirty back alley, lower mid-levels, Riscol Division, MX block, Drotis Intercity, Malfi, Malfian sub, Calixis sector

Situation: Standing over the dead body of Goplan Srinivasan, syndicate courier

Body: It's been a while. Here is what has gone before:

Being imprisoned on a spaceship for weeks and weeks wasn't a lot of fun. And your (well Jeb's anyway) attempts at talking some sense into people failed miserably. Most would not even speak to you. Not even Azhmut. And that one girl who did seem willing to help you out...nothing good happened to her. Eventually things took a turn for the better. Haxtes forgot about you and the rest ignored you. But Venus helped you out a bit. Let you have something extra to pass the time. Even took you for weapon practice in one of the unused spaces. Sure you were watched, but it wasn't as bad as you'd expect. And once at Scintilla you were actually pretty free to do as you pleased - as long as you stayed under Azhmut's radar and behaved yourself. Maybe you were tempted to do something...or maybe you weren't...the important thing is you didn't. You kept your word and didn't do anything funny.

Then came the trip to Baraspine and the long wait there. More of the same really. Until one day Xerza came to see you. Told you a little about what was going on. She was even polite enough to let you connect the dots. The more you talked the more sense it made - Globus had not only moved in to take over Tancred's operation, but he'd actively tried to get rid of you two by sending you to the House. None were supposed to return. But as far as anyone knows you ARE dead. And hence the offer, to 'switch sides' and join Tancred's cadre. Either that or end up dead for real. Jeb warmed to her after that - but she continued to give Parsifal the creeps.

GRAY MATTER

After Baraspine and your little talk with Xerza things changed for the better. You followed the Maiden as she went to Solomon for repairs. You first chance to prove yourself came early as the Maiden swung by the Imperial asteroid prison facility at Sheol XVII.  A place where the Imperium tested various methods for reforming criminals and heretics. Your mission: To carry Xerza's instructions to the resident Haegum agent, one Interrogator Seria. Her task: To monitor the 2.000.000 prisoner population in general and the maximum-security section in particular.

But Seria's undercover agents were disappearing. She needed someone to go in and see what was going on. So you did, as inmates. It was most unpleasant. Turned out the medical staff, with the insane Dr. Lexus Kell in the lead, had conducted extensive experiments into the forbidden reaches of the human mind. More specifically research into the areas where the brain 'the grey matter' touches upon the soul. Bad enough in itself, but made worse by the vile thing that Dr. Kell's work had awakened. The resultant abomination had been freed to feed upon any that Kell felt was a threat to his continued work - inmates and staff alike - until finally his pet subject broke free of his grasp altogether. Putting the thing down was...hard...impossibly hard...it was just a man, yet somehow it was more. Something dark and hungry hid inside its skin. But between Parsifal's pure faith and Jeb's dirty fighting you obliterated it. Literally. Nothing remains of it, not even a footnote in official records.

SCRIVNER'S STAR

Once the Maiden reached Solomon she entered dock and was ripped open by hordes of suited workers and servitors. You headed for Scrivner's Star - or the Prol system as it is formally known. Ten small (in planetary terms) worlds orbiting a nondescript star. Nine of the housing the primary Administratum records of the Calixis sector. Two millennia of data and reports and whatnot. And now space is running out. Which is leading to something of a schism - do they clear out Prol I and start anew there or do they open up Prol X (which is 'forbidden') and postpone the problem for another few centuries? Ah, the choices these paper-pushers have to make!

You were only to pass along a message from Xerza to an agent on Prol IX, but once on Sheol XVII you quickly found yourself dragged into something else entirely. That something being investigating what was going on on Prol I. Too many things it turned out. Heresy. Disease. Warp-spawned zombies. And a plot to fire the entire planetoid, caretaker population be damned. In the end it was the pyratic's plot to fire Prol I that saved the rest of the system - you burned the lot of them with the Emperor's cleansing flame, heretics, the sick, the walking dead, the few remaining survivors. Like Haxtes would have said - let the Emperor sort out his own.

The return leg to Baraspine was more quiet. Once the Maiden had been repaired you followed her back down along the borderland between Hazeroth and Adrantis - hardly the most civilized of places. Got to see a lot of alien vistas, fornicate with some  locals and drink some foul-tasting swag. Being part of a Rogue Trader outfit means great hours, plenty of recreation and no malefic terrors trying to rip out and eat your soul...

You returned to Baraspine laden with goods, spent a while trading there, before picking up Xerza and heading back out. This time into the Drusus marches by way of Tranch, an important transit nexus around these parts. Brief trading stops followed, dictated by Xerza's need to visit that or this port. Clearly she was having some success gaining control of non-Scintillan Haegum assets.

IDYLL HERESIES

Then came Malfi and your ways parted. Xerza and the Maiden headed to Quaddis, leaving your two behind. The local Haegum assets remained loyal to Globus. Xerza had gotten there to late. But Malfi is too important for Xerza's plans to be left without loyal agents. So your were dropped off and set up in a make-shift safehouse, along with one of the Maiden's two remaining astropaths, a boy named Giligaed that is way too young for his job - his slight boyish frame drooped as if by old age due to the stresses of astrotelepathy.

It was a quiet spell for you. Keeping a low profile and keeping the astropath working. Three people hiding among 500 billion human souls (Malfi is THE most heavily populated hive in Calixis, with a pop double that of Scintilla - it actually makes up quite a chunk of the total sector population). Were it not for the fact that Gilgaed went ahead and got himself addicted to Idyll, a drug to take his mind of the drudgery and lighten up his life a little. A drug eerily similar to farcosia in several ways...including being utterly addictive for psykers.

So you go look up his dealer. Only he hasn't any Idyll left. His supplier, Prim Venkateswaran, has gone off the grid you see. Plenty of other drugs to be had though. Going to see Prim Venkateswaran you find him to be more than a drug dealer. He's also something of a fence, his apartment-shop filled with stolen goods of all kinds. That and a very dead Prim Venkateswaran, his throat savagely slashed open. He's been dead for about two days so the corpse is starting to get a little ripe. His stash is also ripe. Ripe for picking by loyal Inquisition agents. God-Emperor knows you could use some of this. So you quietly get rid of the body and lock the place behind you.

No Idyll to be found though. So you're forced to seek further down the supply chain. The name Goplan Srinivasan surfaces. A courier-man and a member of one of the local criminal cartels. Not a many to trifle with then. You track him down, try to get in touch with him, but before you get that far someone gets to him. Leaving you standing over his dead body in a dirty and ark alley. On the balcony-stairs above you are members of some gang, covered with clan tattoos and sporting the latest street fashion.

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Categories: Adventures, Chapter 2 - The Legacy, Adventure 2.2.5 - The Good, the Bad and the Ugly Tags: jeb, malfi, parsifal, prol, scrivner_s star, sheol xvii, solomon
 06/23/11 07:31:00 pm,

73 comments

Comment from:
"You're like a cockroach, Jeb." Jeb scratched at days worth of stubble as he looked at the body before him. For reasons unknown to him, these last few months had culminated into this - him standing in a gloomy alley on a planet that had more flesh than dirt on its surface. Following his incarceration, the ex-merc had thought himself prime material for a firing squad, or in for a quick stroll through space without a voidsuit. Yet here he was, alive and as large as ever. The sheer mindboggling reality of all of this brought back memories of old comrades. Of a girl he had once fought besides who had encountered him, wounded and battered, in a pile of corpses. At that time, he was the only surviving member of a rapid assault-squad that had been targeted by an enemy bombing-run. "You're like a cockroach, Jeb" she had said with wonderment in her voice as she helped him to the field-hospital. "A friggin' human cockroach - and a stubborn one at that..." Jeb grinned as he savoured the memory. Then he shook his head once to clear his mind and knelt to look closer at the body, patting it down for odds and pieces as he examined the man, trying to figure out if this death had any connection to their last lead. He glanced towards the tattooed gangers. They would have to ask for witnesses among them as well - maybe the corpse had a wallet fat enough to loosen tongues? Or maybe they'd spill their guts over a few drinks? The ex-merc really had no desire to bash in heads with an unknown factor if it could be avoided... besides, his own tats and gangmarkings where a constant reminder of his own ill-spent youth. Everyone of them might be a Jeb in the making. "A fucking cockroach on the rise" he remarked somewhat to himself and gave a wry grin of amusement. He'd try to go easy on them.
06/24/11 @ 00:56
Comment from:
This was not comfortable for Parsifal. There was no worship here, none of the Emperor's glory. The body rapidly cooling on the floor did not celebrate the wonder of mankind or the divine flame inspired in them all that were true to it by the God Throne. He stood not in his shining armour or priestly robes instead, having taken Jeb's advice about what to wear, being dressed in more street type clothing than had graced him before, a long coat over trousers and jacket, into which were place those bits of armour as could be concealed. His hair was trimmed short to the sides but down his back still flowed the straight as a die blond locks. And his sword still sat on his hip, as comforting a friend as could be asked, and matched by Jeb's presence. He watches and waits, granting Jeb as the lead in this task, more suited to his knowledge and skills.
06/24/11 @ 10:14
Comment from:
"This be our turf. By right the dead and his gear belongs to us. Do you dispute that right strangers?" Says a woman, perhaps the leader of the group? A scrawny specimen of humanity if ever you saw one. Hard to determine age. Sixteen perhaps? Clearly older than average for the group, which are typical juve scum. Their numbers and ferocity makes them dangerous, even if they seem to sport few truly lethal weapons.
09/07/11 @ 22:26
Comment from:
Jeb stared the girl down with a wolflike grin on his face. Assert superiority - be the alpha-male, or you are just part of the pack. He stood up and pointed at the corpse with one hand, while the other flipped aside the hem of his coat to reveal the butt of his autopistol. "This kill belongs to me. I hunted it down, and I will take what I want, and leave what I don't. And that is how it is going to be." He singled the girl out with a jerk of his chin. "You try to make it any other way and it will not go well for you, sweety." Stepping out into the middle of the alley, he let his eyes play over the juves. "However, if you tell us what you know of this killing - who dunnit, and where we can find 'em, then I'll gladly share the spoils... fairly. Make me happy, and I'll even throw in a bottle of liquor or two for you to get wasted on, while you forget we ever met. The good stuff... I do good by those who make me happy."
09/14/11 @ 06:33
Comment from:
The girl looks over Jeb for a few moments, her cheap optical augmentation work buzzing and whirring as she scans the scene. Then, without signal or forewarning the bruisers visibly relax - too coordinated for them not to be neuronically slaved to the girl's commands. Malfians and their obsessive need to control and enslave... Girl: "Name's Sabine. This is my turf. But seeing as you're a foreigner and all...feel free to have a look. You're too late anyway. They already picked him clean." Already picked him clean? Must have been his killers then, for the corpse is much too fresh for a third party to have interfered. Sabine jumps down, her bionic legs flexing as she lands. Her body is hard with grafted muscle and subdermal armour. A tough customer no doubt. If push comes to shove Jeb reckons a quick draw and once of his dense-core penetrators to her forehead will take care of her. She's tough, but not fast. Not cockroach fast anyway. Sabine: "So tell me handsome - what brings you and your god-brother to to my turf?"
09/29/11 @ 21:34
Comment from:
Parsifal has the measure of the juve-brutes. They are big and strong, but their cheap vat-muscle and neuroslave rigs make them slow and witless. He can take three or four in melee, but after that they will overwhelm and beat him down. The odds are too long.
09/29/11 @ 21:38
Comment from:
They are nine - that you can see. Sabine and eight younger boys. Her muscle. Age twelve and up - though telling it exactly i difficult since they are full of growth-hormones and booster-stimms and packed with vat-muscle. All are partially slaved to her will by unsanctioned neural links. Heresy. No visible guns, but you never know what they've got hidden away.
09/29/11 @ 23:08
Comment from:
"This one" Jeb replied in answer to the girls question as he prodded the corpse at his feet. "Had something I wanted. Looks like someone beat me to the punch." His gaze still firmly on the girl he grinned. "If you say he's picked clean, then he's picked clean. I aint intending to bow down and lay my throat bare for the ripping just to double-check." The ex-mercenary rubbed the palm of one had over his chin, and then tilted his head slightly. "So, you saw who did it then? Someone killin' on your turf and it aint you? Them's gotta be tough pills to swallow, eh?"
10/01/11 @ 05:32
Comment from:
Parsifal shifts his feet slightly, and eases his angles for ease of draw if needed, going onto the balls of his feet in preperation. Into the hidden throat mic he sub vocalises the click of the numbers of targets he can see and the signal sound for "too many", never taking his eyes of those he watches.
10/08/11 @ 15:21
Comment from:
Sabine: "We were otherwise engaged at the time, but one of my rat-boys were up top (indicating some gantries in the darkness above you) and saw it. The dead man met with someone in the alley. It was not a chance meeting, it was arranged. The killer wore a grey robe and the dead man called him 'Gange'. He shot him twice, once in the gut and let him squirm for a while while he took his stash. Then shot him in the head before leaving. We came not long after, but that little prick Guiseppe - he's a looter, and quick as a snake - had managed to work over the cropse."
10/09/11 @ 09:47
Comment from:
"Gange? Guiseppe?" Jebediah worked the names over, tasting them, committing them to memory. "Well, it seems I have business with this Gange-fellow, and we both have business with your fellow, Guiseppe." The big ex-merc flexed the fingers on one hand slowly, hearing the knuckles pop. "I would propose a temporary pact between your boys and us, sweety - take us to this Guiseppe-fellow, and lets shake him down together. If you say he picked something you believe is yours, lets get it for you. I just want to know what he knows about this Gange-fellow, and see if he managed to snatch that thing *I* wanted in the process."
10/09/11 @ 18:27
Comment from:
Parsifal smiles at those who are watching him, an innocent and open smile. And then he rolls his shoulders and rocks his head from side to side, giving an impression of the speed and strength he knows he can put out quickly with his blade, resting his strike hand easily on the hilt of that danger to those who face him.
10/09/11 @ 18:46
Comment from:
Sabine, sporting a rather predatory smile: "A pact it is. It will be an excellent opportunity to show Guiseppe that he can't get away with stealing...what falls on out turf belongs to us." The brutes start to disperse. "Guiseppe will be in the Float. No doubt fencing whatever it was he got from the dead man." 'The Float' is known to Pars and Jeb. It is a market of sorts. And illegal market. It never stays in one place for long before 'floating' to the next location. That's how they stay one step ahead of the Arbitrators. People that cause trouble in the Float will be disposed of - and gangers like Sabine's crew isn't at all welcome.
10/09/11 @ 21:15
Comment from:
"I like the balls on this girl" Jeb confessed to Parsifal with a grin, jabbing his thumb in Sabine's direction. "Let's go to the Float then. Keep your crew out of sight in the vicinity" the ex-merc glanced up towards the rooftops where he knew more of her gangers where in hiding and smirked. "I understand they're pretty deft at that." He scratched at his stubble. "Then, if you can get someone to point out Guiseppe for me and my partner here, we'll go in and extend him an 'invitation' for a little private party. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to participate..."
10/09/11 @ 22:22
Comment from:
A slight whince at Jeb's edgy language is the only discomfort that Parsifal shows and he broadly nods his agreement as Jeb whitters on, almost as though speaking it out loud to Parsifal reassures the grizzled looking veteran in what it is he does. But the priestly figure listens still and holds his words as tightly as his sword.
10/19/11 @ 21:40
Comment from:
Later, at the Float: The Float has been moved to an old and nonoperational waste processing plant. Whatever useful bits and pieces remained have long since been looted. Only what cannot be removed or which has no value at all remains - such as rusting and overflowing tanks of hazardous waste or the great graveyard of sealed radiological containers. A perfect spot for to keep well away from prying eyes. You start working your way through the area, looking for Guiseppe. Maybe it's luck. Maybe it's skill. Maybe it's your drug-addicted astropath guiding you. But you do manage to locate Guiseppe. He's trading some of his loot to some Float fences.
10/21/11 @ 11:44
Comment from:
"Right" Jeb remarked. "Pars, why don't you hang back a bit? And be ready, because if this goes wrong we need to get out and fast." Digging out a little hip-bottle of cheap grain-alcohol, the ex-merc took a large sip and swished it about in his mouth a bit, while he generously doused his clothes with a portion of the bottles remaining content. Then, putting on his best drunken leer and wobbling a bit in his step he left Parsifal in the shadows and approached Guiseppe from behind. As he neared the fence, he gave a slightly crosseyed grin and placed a large finger on lips to indicate that the man should keep his presence a secret. Jeb took some ridiculously overdone steps in silence, mimicking the drunks over exaggerated carefulness as he sneaked up on Guiseppe, as if he where intent on springing a surprise scare on an old friend. "Guiseppe, ol' buddy!" he slurred as he slapped a massive bearpaw of a hand down on the man's shoulder with enough force behind it to mash a tomato to pulp. "Fancy meetin' you here, ya ol' rascal. How are ye?" He grinned disarmingly to the fence as he continued to speak in order to stall any remarks from Guiseppe. Had to work fast here. First, alienate the man to his buyers. "Ne'er thought I'd see yer Xenos-lovin' mug 'round here again, mate. I thought fer sure, that ye'd be layin' low, eh? Good grief it's good t' see ya. How's that girl ye where hangin' with? And Max? How's good ol' Max?" The big ex-merc had clamped his hand down tight by now, and was squeezing cable-thick fingers into the fleshy part of the man's shoulder and was starting to turn the man away from the Fence and towards the less illuminated exit that held Parsifal. "Ah, 'Seppe me friend, you should come join us fer a round o' drinks. I just met this hot chick certain t' put out, and I'm tellin' ya, her sister is just as easy on t' eye, and no less willin'. You can hawk that Xenos-shit later, eh?" Jeb pulled Guiseppe closer and sent the fence another leering grin as he started to march the man away, all but ramming the bottle into his mouth to forestall any protesting. "Here taste this, 's good, no? I brewed it myself, I did. Strong stuff, carries quite a punch..."
10/21/11 @ 16:15
Comment from:
Guiseppe is momentarily overcome by a combination of fast-talking, over-acting, brute force and sheer will. Long enough for Jeb to turn him around, break the fence's interest and start marching back to Parsifal. But there are new arrivals on the scene. Five men, each clad in long robes that mimic those of the Adetus Terra - only these robes are mistakenly made from ballistic cloth; known as 'flak armour' among Imperial Guardsmen. Each also has bulky, cheap-grade optical enhancement screwed into their skulls. And God-Emperor knows what other foul bio-mechanical augmentation. They bear no visible firearms; but unlike Sabine's flock they undoubtedly carry concealed weapons. These are syndicate men. They go armed, even if it risks incurring the wrath of the Arbitrators. Syndicate man, scanning Guiseppe and Jeb with a hand-held auspex: "Guiseppe Orne. The syndicate has registered you as the source of unsanctioned trade with controlled goods. You have been marked for termination unless you pay the fee of 5000 Thrones." Jeb is in their line of fire, but they do not appear to have taken notice of Parsifal at all (they are scanning the area and the crowd, but do not seem to expect violent resistance).
10/25/11 @ 13:34
Comment from:
With all the grace and silence he can gather to himself Parsifal shifts slightly and slides a foot half a pace forward, ensuring his positioning to fight the five, readying the pounce in his legs, his hand on the hilt of the sword for a snap draw and strike. With a slight smile playing upon his lips he subvocalises into his comms to Jeb - "Ready. On your signal."
11/03/11 @ 08:44
Comment from:
Slowing down slightly as the syndicate men appeared in front of him, Jeb's only answer to Parcifal was to acknowledge his message with a grunt. He still had one hand firmly placed on Guiseppe's shoulder and now used that grip to prevent the man from bolting at the sight of the robeclad men in front of them. And also to keep the man in front of himself as an improvised shield - it never hurt to be careful. The big ex-merc looked the five men over with appraising eyes. It was clear that their outfits was designed to frighten or intimidate people for whom the priesthood was something untouchable. But when you've had the sickly-sweet stench of xenos blood wash over you as they take their last quivering breath impaled on your bayonet, or watched thousands die in the cogs that made up the Imperial warmachine, such things really wasn't at the fore of your mind anymore. And that was before joining up with the Inquisition, Jeb mused thoughtfully. He really had become a jaded cynical beast, hadn't he? He didn't express as much to the men in front of him. Instead he put on a shit eating grin. "Good, you're here. I've been meaning to talk with you guys, since we keep stumbling upon what I assume is your dead associates. I think we might have common ground here." He shook Guiseppe slightly to make him stay put, eyes never leaving the five. "Now, please let me savour this, 'cause I've *always* wanted to say it, and yet somehow never really had the chance." The merc paused for dramatics and leaned forward a bit, wagging his eyebrows for effect. "Take me to your leader."
11/04/11 @ 15:24
Comment from:
There is a long awkward silence. The silence of unimaginative men trying to come to terms with a truly unexpected development. Syndicate 'adept': "I guess...Simion says good. Come with us. And keep your hands away from your weapons." Parisfal picks up some interference on his vox - possible other vox-traffic in the vicinity. Jeb moves on with the syndicate men, one hand always on Guiseppe. Pars presumably trails them? Somewhat later, in an area of poor lighting and cracked steam-pipes. Simion, leader to these criminals. If they are dressed like adepts he apes a high-ranking administrator, complete with his own staff of office. Simion: "So, who are you, and what do you have to tell me?"
11/10/11 @ 12:41
Comment from:
"I'm Ephram Wolfe" Jeb replied, using the name of one of his old squad mates. "As for what I have to tell, it's probably not much, but it might interest you nonetheless." Jeb still held Guiseppe in front of him, making no indication of wishing to let him go. "My employer has asked me to procure some narcs for him. More specifically, he wants to get his hands on more Idyll. Yet every person I go to seem to have ended up dead and their stashes robbed or gone. Seeing as your syndicate has popped up at least on a few occasions, and that at least one of the dead guys - Goplan Srinivasan - belonged to your organisation, and seeing how your boys came to pick us up and everything, I thought I might as well cut out the middle man and go directly to the head to get what I needed." He gives Guieseppe a small squeeze. "Guiseppe here was the first man to Srinivasan's corpse and managed to get away with his stash far as I could learn, so I thought he might be able to give me a little fiver finger discount on the stuff... of course that was before I knew where to turn to for the chance of a more steady supply of the stuff. Now that I'm here, I don't see why we can't come to a mutual understanding, and talk some business?" He gave an acknowledging nod to Simion. "I'll make a wild wager and guess you either have some goods, or know where I can get some, yes? My employer will pay handsomely if he where to be provided what he desires. Even more so, if he had a promise of more to come in the future."
11/10/11 @ 15:18
Comment from:
Simion, somewhat overbearing: "Ephram Wolfe is it? Off-worlder by the looks of you. And so scruffy-looking you cannot possibly be an Agent of the Throne...that's good. For you. For do you know what Simion says about throne agents? He says blam blam and into the meat grinder with them!" Settling down somewhat, clearly pleased with his little show: "Idyll? That's a queer drug to be searching for. Not many users, not around these parts anyway. Mainly adepts and the like. Doesn't show up on most screening tests you see. But its effects are rather dull...but I guess it's better than nothing. So Goplan, not that that I admit to knowing him, is dead you say? And little Guiseppe picked him clean? maybe did him too? Boom boom Guiseppe? You kill a syndicate man?" Guiseppe isn't feeling too well right now. Noth that he was from the tart, but now he's soiled himself.
11/10/11 @ 22:36
Comment from:
Jeb sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose as he pushes Guiseppe a bit away from himself, though not outside his reach. "I would be surprised if he had the guts to even consider something like that, seeing he's just shat himself just by being near you." The ex-merc shrugs. "My employee travels in queer circles. And in queer circles you sometimes get introduced to queer habits. There a those who see such habits as mere pastimes - like a cheap whore or a bottle of spirits to be used up and discarded. And then there are others that see a rare opportunity for business. My employer is one of the later." Jeb continues. "Now, understand that we have no interest in sale and distribution. It just so happens that my employer has friends that enjoys the odd distraction and the occasional self-indulgence. Influential friends. And he wishes to be able to provide these friends with whatever they require, in order to make them happy. That, among other things, include the occasional hit of Idyll, and so we are looking for a small, but steady supply, or a single larger deliverance." He looks momentarily at Guiseppe, before giving him a little shove forward and stepping away from him. "We have no wish to get involved in any syndicate-affairs, and if this Goplan's death is an attempt by a rival to muscle you out, or an internal affair, I wish you the very best. Still I trust such a thing would not come in the way of any business understandings we might discuss today?"
11/11/11 @ 04:27
Comment from:
Simion: "We don't do single large deliveries. It's bad for business you see. But I am sure we can reach some sort of arrangement. Not a deal directly with myself of course - make yourself known to a local dealer and the mention my name will suffice to ensure a steady supply of whatever substance you wish to purchase." Turning to Guiseppe: "But speaking of Idyll - there seems to be missing quite a bit. Goplan was carrying a package, but all you have is a few hits. You got all his other stuff...his shiv included." One of the muscle-adepts hand an small plastic-wrapped lump of narcotics to Jeb. Simion says: "A little gift for your employer. Let him see for himself that we only deal top quality merchandise." Another adepts takes the shiv to Guiseppe while two of the other hold him in place. There is some cutting, some blood, and quite a bit of screaming: "Now, unless you wish to be skinned alive I suggest you tell me where the missing Idyll is!"
11/15/11 @ 08:53
Comment from:
Guiseppe: "Gagnegagnegagnegagnegagnegagnegagneeeee..." Simion: "Is that a name? Gagne?" Guiseppe: "Yesyesyesyesyesyesyessss..." Simion: "He took the stash? He's the one that flatlined Goplan?" Guiseppe: "Pleasedontkillmeee...I'll pay you back everything!"
11/15/11 @ 08:55
Comment from:
From his hiding place Parsifal silently prays for all those involved in such a dispicable task.
11/15/11 @ 19:22
Comment from:
Jebediah pocketed the packet with a nod of thanks and stepped back to watch the knife-work with an impassive look on his face. They had what they'd come for - the content of the package would likely keep Gilgaed's addiction sated for a bit - but still Jeb couldn't help but feel there was something here that he was missing. Sure, they where laying low, and where they to be discovered by the remains of Globus cell here, things probably wouldn't turn out well - but still, a drug that was especially addictive to psykers? That smelled of nasty stuff right there. The ex-merc had in a way hoped they would find something that told more about the stuff here, but instead he just had a name now. Gange. Possibly just another drug-lord trying to muscle in on Syndicate territory. Possibly something else. Whatever the case Jeb had just about overstayed his welcome here. He gave a respectful nod to Simion. "This has nothing to do with me, so I best be going back to my employer now. On his behalf, I would like to thank you for the gift, and wish you all the best." He took a deep breath and turned to leave the way he came in, knowing this was when he was most vulnerable, with his back to the room. "Provided things run smoothly - and I have no indication to believe otherwise - I believe we wont be seeing each other against, Master Simion. We will do as you suggest and run by proxy from here on out." Heading towards the exit, Jeb patted the pocket with the small packet while pondering his and Parsifal's next move: Find out more about this Gange, for sure, and maybe stakeout this place to see how the Syndicate intended to deal with the intrusion on the turf? He also had to make up with Sabine's gang, after having left them back there like that. They seemed semi-capable, and it never hurt to have friends. Maybe some of the stuff they'd found at Prim Venkateswaran's place would suffice to keep Sabine happy and on their side. He voiced his thoughts to Parsifal, when he had gotten a bit of distance between himself and the Syndicate. "What do you think, Pars?"
11/15/11 @ 21:17
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"I think our universe will be a better place when we purge such misery from the worlds. Though that is not to come yet so we shall cope without it for now. We need to hunt Gange down it is true and grow our knowledge upon him such that we know the dangers we face. If we do drop something to Sabine's gang let us make sure it does not cause a street escalation."
11/16/11 @ 14:15
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You leave Guiseppe to his well-deserved fate. As you head back to Sabine and her crew you hear him continue to beg for his miserable life. That he didn't take much at all. That Gagne made off with most of the Idyll. That sort of thing. But that's not the point here. Not at all. The point is he's been marked and has no money to pay his way out of this unhappy situation. Lacking the thrones he tries to sell his services - the help find Gagne. Would not that pay off his debts? Simion laughs heartily at that, for there is no man alive that the Syndicate needs Guiseppe to find for them. You leave them all behind and meet Sabine just outside the market.
11/28/11 @ 19:58
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Sabine: "Sooo, what happened? I notice Guiseppe is not among us..."
12/01/11 @ 21:17
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"...so, where is my share?"
12/02/11 @ 14:16
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"We hit a snag" Jebediah explains. "Guiseppe was more trouble than he was worth. Simeon and the syndicate was hunting him, and as much as I'd like to put a bullet between Simeon's eyes, that doesn't give me what I need." He looks to Sabine. "Instead I will pay you your share out of my own pocket. We made a deal, and you held up your end of the bargain, so I will hold up mine as well... 's only fair." He paused for a moment "I will also say that there might be more in it for you and yours, if you would be willing to work for me." He held up a hand to forestall comments. "Not under me - I'm not challenging you for control of your gang. I don't want it, and you seem to run a tight enough ship without me lording over you. But a contract. I need someone found - and before the syndicate does it. Your crew seems capable. There might also be a scuffle or two in the mix, if you feel up for a bit of knucklegrinding. I have some gear, coin and drugs stored away, and I'll bring it to you in return. Far more than what you'd have scored from Guiseppe."" He spits in his left hand and holds it forward. "Deal?"
12/02/11 @ 16:24
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Sabine: "Deal. Now lets hear about this finding business - and about the finding fee."
12/05/11 @ 22:32
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"Gange" Jeb says, looking for any sign of recognition in her eyes at the mentioning of the name. "And that's all I have to go by. The name Gange. You think you can scrounge him up for me?" He rubs his nose. "We recently emptied out a fence's apartment. Reckon there's got to be enough among there to pay you for your troubles. Drugs, gear, random tidbits y'know."
12/06/11 @ 03:06
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Sabine: "The killer? That's mighty little to go on...I reckon he's not a local, so I guess we could go snooping around a bit, but then we have to go into other turfs...so you better bring forth some of that stuff you're talking about."
12/06/11 @ 10:45
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Jeb nods. "Fair's fair. Just give me a location I can drop it off, and I'll see it done."
12/06/11 @ 16:09
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Happy New Year! Time to move forward... --- With the help of Sabine and her gang you...don't really find Gagne. Not directly anyway. As it later turns out you were looking in entirely the wrong place, using the wrong tools... After a few days of uneventful searching you (or Gilgaed's if you want to be exact) Idyll supply is running low. And Simion, the Syndicate boss turns out not to be able to deliver as promised. Idyll is out he says, the Syndicate isn't pushing it anymore. He can put out the word in case anyone has any leftovers, but nothing major is forthcoming. Sorry. So to avoid having your astropath go catatonic over withdrawal you send out Sabine again, to look for alternate Idyll sources. Doesn't work out. Not until the Idyll runs out and you have to tell Gilgaed about it. He has a fit of rage, projecting waking nightmares all over the place until Parsifal calms him down with a prayer (before knocking him senseless). When he comes around he calm and helpful - he'll break out the tarot and use this instrument of His Divine Will to help you find some drugs... ...and He does offer His guidance, putting you on the right path. Before you call these passages heretical - for surely the God-Emperor cares not for drug addicts - consider that He knows a bit more than you, and perhaps he just might have a greater purpose in mind also... --- Divine insight leads you out of the slum levels and into the better-looking parts of this little slice of hive. Sabine has finally found traces of Idyll. An independent dealer is selling it to up-town clients. Especially in the area known as the Terraceton Suites - a vast walled complex where the rich and fortunate live in relative luxury and safety. This is about as far as Sabine wants to go. Without major additional payment that is. Also you get a call from a squad of Syndicate killers. Seems that Simion would like to have a little private chat with you, so if you would be so good?
01/04/12 @ 13:43
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Quick summary: You need to get some Idyll rather quickly. Otherwise you astropath, Gilgaed, will be out of circulation. You've tracked a supplied to up-hive Terraceton Suites. Not really Sabines type of area. Not unless you compensate her handsomely. Or you could do your own fields work of course. Simion has extended an invitation to meet with him. Preferably now. At his place.
01/04/12 @ 13:45
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NPC summary: Gilgaed: Your astropath. Addicted to Idyll. Prim: Dead drug dealer and fence. Goplan: Dead Syndicate courier. Prim's supplier of Idyll. Gagne: Mysterious killer. Took a big stash of Idyll from Goplan's body. Sabine and crew: Gang leader w/gang of cyberneticall 'enhanced' juve scum. Guiseppe: Scavenging low-life. Picked clean Goplan. Recently deceased. Simion: Syndicate area boss.
01/04/12 @ 13:52
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Using what meager resources he might have left, Jeb tries to arrange for one last job with Sabine's crew. Acting as his backup for the meeting with Simion, in case things go south. Though he would never admit it, Jeb had taken quite a liking to the gang leader and her enhanced youths. They where delightfully straight up, after his time with the inquisition - and he had been wondering, whether he could find a way to put them on a more permanent retainer. They had certainly proved themselves useful and resourceful as well. They'd have to leave the lower levels soon though, and neither Sabine nor Jeb would fit well in with the crowd in the higher altitudes of the spire. So Jeb suggests to Parsifal, that he, as a more civilized and upstanding citizen, take over the role as the "face" of the little group, when they seek upwards, leaving Jeb to fall back on his customary role and disguise as bodyguard and gun-for-hire. First though, they needed to meet with Simion, and something - a nagging sensation, or a gut-feeling - told Jeb, that it might well end up with someone taking a crash course in interior decorating, with crimson as the colour of choice.
01/06/12 @ 11:49
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Parsifal nods slowly as Jeb suggests the plan of action. "Yes, I agree. Placing you as the most civilised member of our pairing seems a little unrealistic. It would leave us exposed quickly I feel. I will do what we must, for the Emperor protects." But first he must prepare for the meeting with Simion and for possible battle. As the holy text of the troubles of St. Justinian the Manic state "You can't make a good omlette without spilling some claret."
01/08/12 @ 09:38
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At Simion's place. There is only one fatality going in; a dispute about your permission to go armed, Parsifal's sword to be exact, settled by a dagger to the eye. Thought for the day: "Be wary not of the blade you see, but the one you don't." After that it's a lot of shouting and weapon-wawing, before eventually Simion has to tell everyone to calm dawn. Simion is doing a combination of intelligence gathering and house cleaning; and it all comes down to Idyll. Several other couriers and drug-dealers have gone missing or been found dead. Their stash gone. Curious. But essentially unimportant given that the Syndicate has dropped Idyll from it's portfolio. Except. Seems the Judges have taken an interest in this obscure drug. And Simion doesn't want any loose ends. Or loose tongues. So you've got two choices. Either Simion can make you dead. Or you can find this person whose attracting attention to Idyll and make him go away. And then you just fade away into the Shadows. Any preference as to which?
01/08/12 @ 21:20
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Not wanting to die just yet - and seeing as how you've already interested in finding out more about Idyll - you opt for the 'find the annoying person' option. So how do you intend to go about this? The Terraceton Suites and surrounding areas seem as good a bet as any. Simion can also supply you with some additional info - who was iced and when, possible witnesses, that sort of thing.
01/11/12 @ 09:14
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Parsifal steps up to the plate; it is his turn to ask. He starts by learning - who, when, witnesses, etc, speaking in slow, careful words with thoughful questions. He knows he is not the quickest or sharpest in thought so he pauses, considers and then enquires so it sounds almost enigmatic in tone. Then the planning begins; the development of a cover story that Parsifal rehearses so it becomes almost a mantra between him and Jeb, driving deeper and deeper into his mind so it becomes almost a truth to him. But it is the information that Simion gives that will provide the hooks through which to thread the story.
01/14/12 @ 17:47
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Based on the intelligence gained from Simion (you sure he is trustworthy?) a picture starts to emerge. A picture of a brutal killer who is slowly killing his way through whatever Idyll dealers he can get to. He takes whatever Idyll he can find, but seems to take a certain delight in the killings as well. More so with the later killings than the first - so his actions may be gnawing a bit on his sanity.
01/18/12 @ 11:33
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It's the killings - you known of more than a dozen, but there may have been more - and their increasingly brutal and ritualistic character that has attracted the attention of the hallowed Adeptus Abrites. The mere mention of these black cockroaches are usually enough to send even hardened Syndicate men scrambling for the nearest exit. Local enforces, fine, the Judges, definitely not fine. Can't be reasoned with, can't be bargained with, can't even be bribed. That's inhuman...
01/18/12 @ 11:48
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A possible cover for Parsifal is as a firebrand preacher, come to guide the corrupt people of the Terraceton Suites down the righteous path. If he plays his cards right that could give him entrance to lots of restricted places; it's also a role he could play rather well. Jeb could be his bodyguard/assistant. Preachers aren't a natural target for criminals, but it's a tough galaxy, so it's better to be safe than sorry.
01/18/12 @ 12:33
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Imagery for the Suites; multiple stepped pyramids of epic proportions (each several kilometers high) housed within a vast steel dome, roofed with now partially deficient holo-panes; once they depicted various outside scenes...they still do...only many of the panes are broken, underlining the artificial nature of the dome. The Terraceton Suites are not run-down as such, they are simply...a bit worn (maybe no-one knows how to maintain those panes anymore, or there are no spare part, or no one cares any longer?) Within each pyramid there are levels, and corridors, and roads, and spaces, and halls, and malls, and gardens, and apartments...each can function wholly without outside help...much like an arcology within the main hive structure. Within there hundreds of thousands of apartments the modestly wealthy and/or lucky citizens of this hive section live in relative comfort and safety.
01/18/12 @ 13:43
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Moving forward... --- You continue your investigations. You focus this 'Idyll-killer'. And find that he indeed has a fascination for the Terraceton Suites. Gilgaed is of some use to you: Now that the Idyll is running out once more his mind seems focused on locating even more. His readings of the Tarot more or less confirms that the 'Idyll-killer' is this Gagne fellow. That the Terraceton Suites is the location. There is love involved. Love turned to hate. A spurned lover perhaps? And that something very terrible is about to happen. Something even more terrible than Gilgaed running out of drugs!
02/08/12 @ 09:48
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So...Gagne seems to have developed from a generally unpleasant fellow into something a bit worse. He also seems to have a unwholesome fascination for this Esther lady. She is quite the eye candy actually - a rare gem of the lower classes. Gagne also seems to have developed a disdain for the God-Emperor and his good works. The majority of his anger seems, however, directed at this Esther woman and someone called Liam Kensington, a resident of the Terraceton Suites... (again from his journal and other clues found at his apartment) It seems that the Suites might hold the answers to this puzzle.
02/08/12 @ 10:57
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A quick checkup on Liam Kensington reveals him to be a scion of the House of Kensington. Minor nobility of Malfi, but important enough around these parts. Liam is known of his lavish Terraceton 'manor' and the fabulous parties he throws...and the great hospitality he shows even when there are no actual parties going down. You're not surprised when your inquires reveal that there may be drugs and sexual debauchery involved...but where does Gagne fit in? Is he supplying Kensington with Idyll? It would seem he is.
02/08/12 @ 11:06
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Jeb (after tying down Gilgaed - can't have a psyker suffering from some kind of unknown drawback running around after all) suggests that perhaps the firebrand preacher "Payne" and his bodyguard might spread the God-Emperor's words better by inserting themselves into the upper echelon of the minor nobility. And since the Kensington's are known for their hospitality, why not visit them? "Payne" the Preacher might throw down a few half-hearted prayers, but more importantly he could begift their gracious host with tales of his many *many* exploits and pilgrimages across the Calixis Sector - surely the nobility would suffer a god-botherer for some time in order to learn of any news from abroad? And if they where invited to stay, then who knows what they just might stumble across?
02/09/12 @ 22:59
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Not a bad plan. You're already semi-familiar with the Suites, so it doesn't take too long to get in touch with someone who can make such a visit a reality. In fact, you are led to believe that there may actually be a party going down just this evening. You're a bit late, but these things always lasts until morning - and sometimes they just go on and on. The party is taking place in Kensington's so-called 'West Wing'; an area decorated like the country villa of a rural noble. It's all tricks and walls and holographs, but still...
02/10/12 @ 19:18
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You pass by the blank-eyes security servitors that guard outer perimeter, then pass through a holographic forest before mounting the wide stairs that lead to a gilded door. You can hear music from within. A cacophony of sound, like the grand finale of some great concert...that goes on and on and on. Two liveried servants stand before the door. They are both sweating heavily and one is looking positively sick - but they both remain at their post. Servant: "Mr. Kensington is busy sirs. There is a social gathering of his peers. And clearly yo are not - his peers I mean. At any rate, he left order that the party not be disturbed." The second servant finally succumbs, falling to his knees, vomiting onto the stone stairs.
02/12/12 @ 09:09
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Getting past the servant isn't hard - a little persuasion and they are almost eager to abandon their posts.
02/13/12 @ 21:37
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The inside of the manor are filled with upper-class party-goers, all high on something, all involved in some form of excess. Be it sexual or otherwise. There is a band playing - that's the music you heard before. A troupe of dancers. Hedonism of the worst sort - self-indulgence without thought for sacrifice. Bring in a squad of roaches and they would all spend time. Long time, no possible parole. But that's not really the troubling part. The troubling part is the sickness that has crept into every act, every emotion, every thought. The cacophony of music, every instrument oddly out of tune. The dancers, shaking and bloodied, still dancing beyond exhaustion, without rhyme or reason. Lover turned cruel, gluttons chocking and vomiting, men beating women, women clawing at one another, men bludgeoning each other to death, laughing. You both recognize it from the moment you enter. It is the sickness of that other place. That dark hell where nightmares are real and men are naught but playthings. Oh, you've seen it before, felt it's damning touch. The thing on Sheol XVII. The power behind the walking dead on Prol. And more subtly, on Iochantos. And for Parsifal...the broken angel aboard the Cygnan Martyr... ...oh yes, you known it by know. The alien, yet familiar, seductive vileness that is Chaos. Beware little acolytes of the Holy Ordos, for you now tread on dangerous ground.
02/13/12 @ 22:19
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Note: You get the distinct impression that parties like this is the norm - heretical hedonism - but that THIS part has gotten a little out of hand...
02/13/12 @ 22:20
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I take it locking the doors and torching the place to the ground from the outside is completely out of the question? Looks darned tempting right now... I mean, we could always question the ashes afterwards. "Have you been naughty?" "..." "I'll take that as a yes."
02/13/12 @ 22:33
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It would not be completely out of place to execute every single living thing inside the manor and THEN torching it. Indeed some would claim you have failed in your duties if you do not. Question the ashes...not sure that will be super-effective, not unless you've got some hidden talents?
02/13/12 @ 22:43
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Realizing that you can burn the place down later on you move inside. Not firing the place right away has the added benefit of allowing you to determine what's going on, if Gagne is around, that sort of thing.
02/14/12 @ 21:01
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You pass swiftly by the band - several musicians have dismembered on of their number and are trying to fashion instruments out of his still-writhing corpse - then sweep around the dancers - some of whom have no collapsed into blood-sweating heaps of flesh. You seek the master of the warren of chaos and will not be turned back. So you steel yourselves and push on.
02/14/12 @ 22:00
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You find Liam Kensington is his boudoir - bound spreadeagled to his own massive bed. His naked. He has a single bleeding slash across his lower abdomen. His belly is swollen and something writhes within. He's trying to scream but he has no voice left. A half-naked painted girl lies at the foot of the bed, crying inconsolably - something abut not being needed, not being pure or pretty enough.
02/14/12 @ 22:18
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Jebediah turns to Parsifal, once more hinting that, as far as he is concerned, the increasingly appealing option of watching a nice bonfire from afar still lies on the table. Especially considering they don't even have orders to be here in the first place. If that does nothing for Pars, the big ex-merc will try to slap some sense into the girl to find out whats happening. Shake her about a bit, and keep her firmly planted between himself and whatever rummages inside Liam's gut. Never underestimate the protective value of scantily clad, emotionally unstable girls.
02/19/12 @ 11:37
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Parsifal trust more in his blade and faith in the God-Emperor! Coherency isn't high on the scantily clad girl's skill list, but you manage to lap something out of her: She's drugged good and proper. Jeb thinks it looks like an Idyll high (not that Gilgaed is usually this emotionally unstable, but still). But the Idyll may have been laced with something extra; the girl is completely silly, emotional and easily influenced. Or maybe there is something else...hypnotism...psychics...whatever. She's upset because she was found 'wanting'. Apparently someone gorgeous, fantastic, marvelous etc. took with him a selection of other girls to some even better party over at the Imperial Arms. A secret party. A real party. Not like Liam's old affairs. Then there is some ranting about him taking the 'the common-born Esther bitch' even when she would not come. But then the other seven whores convinced her to anyway. It's all so unfair! Parsifal, not liking the look of things nods sagely. There can be no other solution than fire. He quickly pours some flammable alcohol over the bed and the spasming man, nods to Jeg, then sets it on fire...
02/19/12 @ 17:11
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Jebediah looks almost disappointed that the ensuing conflagration will not be of his own doing. To soothe his roguish nature, and realizing just how low on cash they are, he instead decides to pocket a few items on his way out - throwing a few random priceless and flammable items into the fire just for good measure. The girl. Well, scantily clad and strung up on whatever she was on, she's likely to be a liability - on the other hand she might provide them with a ticket into this other party, using her as eye candy and distraction in order to get inside.
02/19/12 @ 21:20
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Parsifal, on the other hand, is busy doing His work - when the burning man finally starts screaming - there is definitely something inside him trying to get out - he utters another prayer, douses his blade with more booze, watches it catch fire, then plunges it into whatever writhes underneath Liam's skin. Something, a swarm of sorts, not unlike large roaches, burst forth. Only they aren't really insects, at least they are like no insect you've ever seen. Or perhaps, if Chaos ever spawned insects, they would be like this. Fortunately the bug immediately catch fire. They scatter, burning, flailing, screeching, but die within seconds. A quote, from some holy scripture no doubt, is uttered: "And His gaze shall fall upon the vermin of the earth, and they shall be burned, like witches upon the bonfire." It's time to move. Jeb brings the girl, pushing her along as a living shield. maybe she'll have other uses later, but for now she's there to catch anything with Jeb's name on it. Pars moves along, muttering prayers (no inappropriate give his costume). On a few occasions you bump into crazed partygoers - you brush them aside with sword and pistol; as far as you're concerned they are all heretics and if they burn the galaxy will be a better place for it.
02/19/12 @ 21:38
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You make your way back to the entrance, leaving the crazed and drugged party-goers behind. On the way you make sure to set things on fire. Parsifal's ecclesiarchal rod turns out to be great for jamming the main doors shut from the outside. You can't be sure it will hold them all inside, but it's worth a try. And it should also erase all traces of the insect-swarm that came out of Liam. At any rate - time to go.
02/24/12 @ 22:11
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"I'd seriously kill for a flamethrower" Jeb remarks as he pushes the girl along ahead of her. "If we're going to be facing of against more of whatever you gutted open back there, bullets will mean diddly-squat. We better stock up on incendiaries of whatever kind we can procure. Prometheum bombs, or cocktails might do in a pinch, but I am not going to waltz into a swarm of those things with this little peashooter and my trousersnake as my only weapons of import..."
02/24/12 @ 23:07
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"And where might we may find those Brother?"
03/13/12 @ 18:23
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"Prometheum? In the most heavily populated hive on Calixis? I'll bet you I can't throw a rock around here without hitting something that runs of it." Jeb glances back towards the conflageration they had no doubt started. "Very soon people will panic, and it will be an easy thing. Find me an abandoned vehicle, a piece of flexible hose, a bottle and a rag, and I can throw together something quickly. Or we could just hit the nearest bar and raid their liquor-cabinet. Either way, I want to be able to fling fire like a Hellhound if things get rough."
03/14/12 @ 10:40
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Finding an abandoned vehicle isn't hard at all... You slip out of the manor unseen. Also not very hard. The guard sentries are violently objecting to the local firefighters getting in to do their job. You go down, bringing the girl with you. Below you find several enforcer vehicles parked, their occupants no doubt enroute to the manor. With some degree of reverence Jeb touches the doorlock scanner of one of the vehicles with the Inquisitorial signet given to him by the Mistress. The red light goes black for a moment, then turns green as the door unlocks... "And none shall stand before Him, for his cause is just and all..." The rest of Parsifal's words are drowned out as all eight liters of prometheum engine roar to life. Surely the local Magistratum can spare this one vehicle. For the Emperor? A few minutes you're roaring down a local transit artery, shooting past other traffic with the disdain for the law that only a true lawman can muster. The girl has started to giggle and clings to the back of Jeb's seat, oblivious to the danger she's in. If you don't all die you're so going to score tonight! Destination: The Imperial Arms.
03/14/12 @ 22:59
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Let's jut wrap this adventure up. --- You make it to the Imperial Arms. It's a race against time - cuz you know he's up to no good - to locate the madman Durante Gagne and his entourage of upper-class women. The Imperial Arms is a big place with lots of guests and staff. But you do make it, interrupting some form of foul sorcerous ritual Durante Gagne is enacting. He's ritually murdering seven girls to power whatever it is that he's doing. Gagne is killed. The sacrifices are already dead or dying. Esthe seems unharmed - but given the fact that she's been the focus of this ritual you can't afford to take any chances. You set them all on fire - just to be sure. Mission accomplished. You even manage to get hold of enough Idyll from Gagne's stash to keep Gilgaed going for a while. And Jeb has a new girlfriend :-) Unfortunately you don't have much time for celebration. As soon as you get back to the astropath and give him a shot he starts babbling abut an emergency transmission from Messinius - Xerza is in some kind of trouble on the pleasure planet Quaddis... (if ever we get back to playing by post that's your next assignment)
05/11/12 @ 19:47


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