Saturday 17 November 2018

Kevins of the Wild 2: Adventures in Warpland

The Kevins are once more gathered together -- with the exception of Psy and Fixy kevin -- in the ship's cathedral, following the adventure to the Dread Pearl.

Bishop Kevin is presiding, and leads the crew in a eulogy for Wheely Kevin. The casket is empty save for a chair and a pair of pants.

He allows us a moment of silence before shouting "NEXT!" and the next casket is dragged in.

57 services later, Leftenant Kevin takes the team aside to give the good news: The Kevins have this thing called "Shore Leave", now. Also, after months of extensive testing ("Kevins within Kevins within Kevins, within Kevins. Affirm." "Affirm." "What's it like to be paid?" "Unknown.") I, Fixy Kevin, am finally out of the brig.

Shore Leave appears to have been granted en masse -- the dock is filled with Kevins, and the pubs creak collectively in fear. The locals flow out, and the Kevins flow in.

As promised, Lieutenant Kevin buys us the first round, and toasts Wheely Kevin. Whom I knew from Technical College. I put him in the wheelchair during the exam for my degree, sure, but I liked to think we were close.



Our clique (Me, Healy Kevin, Smarty Kevin, and Grizzly Kevin) are talking about intoxicating substances (Amasec, that water from Vaporious) when Sleazy Kevin takes this opportunity to show up to peddle his shitty cocaine.

"Heck off, sleazy kevin, we don't want your crap cocaine around here," Healy Kevin says.

"Nah, this is new stuff," he promises. He presents some interesting-looking lho sticks. "These are better than any obscura."

Grizzled Kevin wants to buy the drugs, but he's got no money, so he distracts Sleazy Kevin and then punches him clean out. He steals every drug he's got, and starts handing out the fancy sticks, a green, crystalline substance wrapped in gold foil.

Not strong enough to resist peer pressure, I light up first. And I hear screaming for a moment before I black out.


I wake up with everyone else in a place that definitely isn't the bar. We're sprawled on the floor in the middle of a forest -- everything is ridiculously green, and the trees are dense.

The sky overhead is a brused color. We're definitely not on Footfall.

Fighty Kevin asks Grizzled Kevin to climb a tree. But he doesn't climb trees, he pushes them over. And to prove it, he does so, with a splintering of wood. And a squelch sound?

We check it out carefully. I approach with staff in hand. It's a swamp. Or a mire.

As we're peering at it through bloodshot eyes, something long and thin picks me, Healy and Fighty Kevin up off the ground!

Grizzly Kevin slaps the vines, dealing some damage.

Smarty Kevin tries to negotiate with the vines. He promises them women later for freedom now, but nothing. It seems like these are harder to buy than the Incel board.

Healy Kevin tries to wriggle free. She doesn't.

I apply leverage to the vines with my staff, and I free myself, readying my lasgun.

Fighty Kevin gets out, and pulls out his monospear.

The vines react; the one that has Healy Kevin strangles. The one that had me shoots a cloud of spores at me from a flower. It misses, but another one gets Fighty Kevin good, and breathing is hard.

Grizzly Kevin keeps working at the vines holding Healy Kevin.

Slighted by the vines, Smarty Kevin opens fire on the vines -- it's like High Scholum all over again. The vines recoil in pain.

Healy Kevin frees themselves, and draws their flamer.

I land a shot on the vines as well, getting a scream from the plant.

Fighty Kevin, struggling to breathe, nonetheless manages to plunge his spear into the heart of the plant and kills it.

The plants spray more spores at Healy Kevin. Grizzly Kevin slaps them around some more.

Healy Kevin, now free and armed, burns their flower monster.

Fighty Kevin stabs mine and finishes it off.

As combat ends, Healy Kevin administers antidote to themselves and Fighty Kevin.

As we examine the plants (smell like meat, and look like rotting flesh), there's the sound of walking feet. And as we watch, the forest seems to move to part for a figure.

A feminine figure, rather pointy and to some of the party, familiar -- she looks a lot like the statue salvaged from the Dread Pearl?

We introduce ourselves. Her name is Isha. She has a husband, "Very Busy Man".

She greets us warmly, and apologizes for not reaching us sooner. She invites us to "come along", and we do so, taking advantage of her ability to part the forest.

We eventually reach a small cottage; the outside appears to be dripping slime, but it looks to be in good condition, a thatched cottage with chairs outside and a kettle on a fire. Isha takes a seat and invites us to do the same.

She recaps how we got here. She knows where Footfall is, mentioning some of "her people" who occasionally speak to her from there. The way she speaks of it, we're nowhere near the Halo stars, it sounds like.

We are in the Garden -- here, she and her husband grow flowers. She grows the brighter colors, in contrast to her husband's preferred blues and blacks.

Then the ground shakes as immense footsteps approach. Trees don't part for this one. He swims into view -- an immense, bloated creature wearing a hat and tie, a greater daemon of Nurgle, guts hanging out and corpulent.

He shrinks down to a more reasonable size, and Isha plants a small kiss on his cheek. We politely introduce ourselves to this monstrous, but clearly pleasant creature with a very jolly voice, "Very Busy Man".  He corrects me on the name -- Nurgle. But most people call him Grandfather or Pappy.

We speak with him. Long story short, we are indeed in the warp. And we are in so much danger. But he's nice enough. He saw Psy Kevin, he passed through briefly. Nurgle sent him on, although he's not sure what happened after that. A darn shame. He's willing to send us along after him, if needed.

We snap a commemorative photo for Aquilagram. We all take a point of insanity... and tag @WinterYork. We'll have to wait until we get Astropath signal to upload it, though.

Nurgle has some opinions of the other gods.
Khorne is nice enough, provide you catch him on a nice day. The problem is, he hasn't had a nice day in about 12 billion years.
Slaanesh... best not to go there. But Healy Kevin can just... do whatever.

Anyway. Nurgle makes a door appear out of some trees.

Before we leave, Nurgle has a letter for us. It's addressed to Hadarak Fel... If we get the chance, we should say hi to the Eldar for Isha.

He gives us a gold tooth for the trouble, and bids us farewell.


I open the door, and I'm no longer in the Garden. Ashen fields surround us. "God damnit," Smarty Kevin says. "We're in New Jersey."

Ahead of us, we can see a figure sitting in the ashes. As we get closer, we realize he's huge. Huger than Grizzled Kevin, even. Clearly a space marine, his armor is ashen white and his pauldrons blue.

He greets us with a slow, heavy voice. He tells us that we are... here. Very helpful. Here is not a safe place for mortals to be wandering. He speaks slow and ponderously, devoid of emotion.

He will guide us out. He brushes ashes off the ground, and picks up two very familiar chain axes... remarkable craftsmanship. Made for unification.

I ask him what his name is. Akaios, he thinks. It's been a while. He turns to the horizon, and starts walking -- slowly -- so we can follow. He suspects we're not from his time. I mention we're from M41, and he confirms he's from M30.

He's depressed as hell. He needs to leave, but he can't; he and his brothers are damned. It's a very somber walk.

As we walk, we approach structures, mountains and citadels in the distance. There's another figure in the distance, hunched and without power armor. We're being watched.

Healy Kevin waves and bids it hello, and all we get back is a laugh. A laugh I've heard before. A laugh I don't like one bit.

It's my Ex. A bloodletter. I ask to borrow one of Akaios' axes. He agrees, and gives me a now-familiar axe -- Wrack.

Grizzly Kevin puts his hand on my shoulder, and passes me a literal fistful of leaves. I chow down and suddenly, I feel like a bear. I bellow a challenge at this bear-like bloodletter, and challenge it to a fight.

I proceed to have the coolest duel of my life, burying the borrowed chainaxe in it just as it punches me out cold.

I find myself adrift in a sea of stars.

"Dude! Dude! Wake up!" I open my eyes with an unsticking feeling to see a flaming skull leering over me. I'm sitting in the sidecar of what appears to be a daemonically posessed motorcycle. A space marine with a flaming skull for a head drives it.

I took bear leaves, and apparently I know how to fucking party. Doomrider is his name, and Astral Projecting is apparently what I'm doing. He'd be glad to give me a ride back to my physical body.

"Wake up!"

I open my eyes again. For a moment there, I was cool. Then they avert their eyes from mine again. I'm surrounded by the other Kevins and Akaios. I sit up, and for a moment, I see Doomrider, before he vanishes into a portal.

I confirm that I won the fight, and return the axe to Akaios. To my surprise, he returns the axe to me, and Ruin to Healy Kevin.

He dusts off the ground to reveal skulls -- 88 of them. He asks us to remember him, remember the War Hounds as what they were, and not what they became. I tell him I only see a loyal War Hound, and I'll never forget Akaios of the War Hounds.



We rematerialize in a realm of purple, gold, and silk. Soft music flows. There's a large bed, silk drapes on the walls, mood lighting and incense in the air... and an ork? The ork is confused, unarmed, and just wants a fight.

A tantalizing voice calls from beyond a series of veils. "The Ork, I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting visitors."

It's Healy-Kevin's time-share god.

Slaanesh materializes a bag of cocaine for Grizzly Kevin, and he buries his face in it, becoming Polar Kevin for a time.

We stay and chat for a while, but it's eventually time to go. The exit door leads to a long corridor.

There are two doors -- one with a symbol like a meteor, and one labelled in Gothic, "Armageddon". The ork wants a fight, so I guess we'll head out through Armageddon?

The Ork smells the air that blows through, and is thrilled. He smells a fight. He's going to take it, and make great the name Gazgul Mad Urak Thrakka.

Whoops. Oh well, we make an exit through the other door.



We find ourselves in a mirror maze. Healy-Kevin seems to have a knack for navigating it, though, so we follow his lead.

We find ourselves in a central, eight-pointed star at the center of the maze. And sitting on a glass bench in the middle, with no pants and no wheelchair... Wheely Kevin.

He's not who he used to be. But he still has that same shit-eating grin, and I Remember why I didn't feel that sorry about  putting him in the chair to start with.

We talk a while. But talk runs thin, and we want out. Or we never wanted out. Or we've always wanted out. And the way out is through the Blue Horrors that are now surrounding us.

Only holy weapons or a psyker will save us here, and we have none. But we do have bear leaves.

"Well, are you going to eat the bear leaves or not? For the Emperor."

Standing atop the walls of the Infinite Maze, dressed in a long cloak, carrying a bolt pistol, a makeshift staff, and a ridiculously wide hat -- Psy Kevin. He jumps down, and with a strike of his staff, keeps the blue horrors at bay.

We chow down on the bear leaves, and...


We come to, and catch up with psy-kevin. It's been... a while. He's seen a lot.

But for now, two errands.

First, we return to the ashen wasteland. Istvaan V. We find a cave, and inside, white helmets stacked neatly; we leave the power axes there to be found some millenia later, and eventually, pass into the hands of our captain, and all is right with the world.

The next errand is a stop at Groks' Pizza, we're on a pizza run, apparently -- although with warp travel and time being optional, not on any particular schedule.

We find ourselves in a smoky room, the smoke in 9 primary colors. We catch a lungful of plaid on the way in.

"Pizza's still warm," Psy-Kevin announces.

The smoke parts to reveal quite an array of players. The Deceiver. The Eldar Laughing God. Tzzentch. And the Emperor himself. It's a strange game, Paradox Poker, and the stakes are... odd.

The Emperor thanks us for the delivery, and decides to grant us each a boon.

Grizzly Kevin asks for and gets gold-laced cocaine.
Smarty Kevin asks for and gets forgiveness for Akaios of the War Hounds.
I ask for and get an STC.
Healy Kevin asks for and gets freedom from Slaanesh.


The Emperor opens a door, and there's a gold surfboard. He takes us back to Footfall... the long way around. As we pull up outside the bar, I have one last question, hopefully a freebie.

"Are we before or after we left?"
"Yes."
"Poorly worded question. That's my fault, I accept it."

Saturday 10 November 2018

It's Always Heretical in the Kronus Expanse: The Crew Strikes It Big

Rogue Trader: A quest for profit in the grim darkness of the 41st millenium. But dying in mediocrity and misery is for poor people and losers, and a Rogue Trader's retinue is anything but.

It's Always Heretical in the Kronus Expanse is bought to you by:

Lord-Captain van Hohenheim - Rogue Trader. Hero. The last of his line. Possibly insane, although a holiday has done much to soothe his agitated mind. Questionable epicurean delights have left him unreasonably muscled.
Magos Abigail von Thannhausen - A Magos Explorator-Chymist who possibly takes too much pleasure in the craft of Servitors. Accompanied by her servo-skull. Ever since doing warp-eel shots, she seems more insightful somehow.
Archaius "Boosto" Wash - A gunnery sergeant with a now less-irritating artificial voicebox and a jetpack. We are all amazed by his apparently-infinite agility, and his recent ability to just shrug off pain.
Sebastian LaMarck - A seneschal with a silver tongue. Spymaster and king of Human Resources. One hell of a butler, even when he's on autopilot.
Winter York - Astropath Transcendant. Monstrous willpower. Notorious advocate of psychic power pissing matches, and freshly endowed with wings, somehow. Your glorious narrator and remembrancer.


We make planetfall as fast as possible, and land with more vim and vigor than we ought to.

The natives greet us warmly, again, but they have another in their midst, bearing news of the Creator; dressed in green, she descended from the heavens.

The Lord-Captain convinces them to let me see in their mind who it was. I recognize her immediately.

"Sun-Lee!"

We try to convince everyone to get on our boat. People are getting more and more distressed. They can't fathom what's going on.

A lance battery strikes on the horizon. The shockwave hits a few seconds later, and everyone freaks. Wash spins up the engines.

A second lance hits a structure; the oceans part, and we see a giant, eldritch creature.

It is, as expected, the Eldar. They're back, and they'd rather seal this place to the Warp again than let it fall to us. They have resummoned the storm. "Quit this place now, or die here!"

All over the planet, thousands of heavy steps resound.

We vox the rest of our Alliance.

"There's a giant Eldar on the planet. Do you want to help me kill it? This is my planet. I already peed on it."

The others would love to, but they're busy getting out of dodge.

Near us, we hear footsteps, and two Wraithguards stomp out of the forest.

One of them opens fire on the tribals -- one is clipped, and vanishes in a puff of ozone. He reappears a moment later... inside a tree. Ew.

The Magos boards the cutter.

The Lord-Captain steps forth, brandishes his axes, and his cape billowing in the growing storm, shouts "To me!" at the Wraithguards.

I grudgingly board the cutter for now.

Wash takes off, and shreds one of the Wraithguards to pieces with the autoguns.

I focus my powers, and reach out to MIND CRUSH the Eldar Witch in their little circle. I land it, and give them a nasty surprise, although all electronics short out for a moment, and we plunge out of the sky for a moment. As I do, the Wraithguards hitch a little.

The Magos wipes out the other.

More Wraithguard emerge from the forest; the Lord-Captain parries a punch for one, and his axes cut deep gouges into them. His axe cuts deep into the neck of one, and there's a sickening crack, and the Lord-Captain feels immensely satisfied.

I unbuckle myself, cast aside my robes, and reveal the Priest King outfit. I bail out of the cutter, and take wing towards the circle.

Overhead, I see the cutter whoosh past, pull up over the circle, and out the back falls the Magos, going for a divebomb.

The Lord-Captain continues to bully the Wraithguard with his axes, carving them up and giving hope to the tribals.

The Magos closes in, but before she can goomba stomp the Farseer, the Farseer looks up, and without even trying, stops her falling. Then throws the Magos into the ground. Hard. It looks like it hurts. Her servo-skulls catch the impact from three different angles.

More Wraithguards emerge from the water; Wash strafing runs the ones coming out of the water.

I finally get to the dais, and point at the Farseer. We approach each other menacingly, and I try to crush their head again. I do some damage, and we hear unsettling truths.

The Farseer lashes back, and I feel my head haemmorage. And all my grenades go off, catching both of us cleanly. We're both thrown clean off the tower; the Farseer into the forest, and myself to the beach.

Wash gives chase to the Farseer to confirm the kill -- but finds two eldar snipers trying to escape with her body, and one more blocking his path. They flee at superhuman speeds; still not fast enough to escape Wash, but they manage to avoid his blade long enough to escape through a webway portal.

With the storm closing in, we call it quits; we're short on vengeance, and I've had my face blasted clean off, but we're burdened with wealth, and we've all survived our Adventure, etching our names into the history of the galaxy.

Saturday 3 November 2018

It's Always Heretical in the Kronus Expanse: The Crew Goes Fishing

Rogue Trader: A quest for profit in the grim darkness of the 41st millenium. But dying in mediocrity and misery is for poor people and losers, and a Rogue Trader's retinue is anything but.

It's Always Heretical in the Kronus Expanse is bought to you by:

Lord-Captain van Hohenheim - Rogue Trader. Hero. The last of his line. Possibly insane, although a holiday has done much to soothe his agitated mind. Questionable epicurean delights have left him unreasonably muscled.
Magos Abigail von Thannhausen - A Magos Explorator-Chymist who possibly takes too much pleasure in the craft of Servitors. Accompanied by her servo-skull. Ever since doing warp-eel shots, she seems more insightful somehow.
Archaius "Boosto" Wash - A gunnery sergeant with a now less-irritating artificial voicebox and a jetpack. We are all amazed by his apparently-infinite agility, and his recent ability to just shrug off pain.
Sebastian LaMarck - A seneschal with a silver tongue. Spymaster and king of Human Resources. One hell of a butler, even when he's on autopilot.
Winter York - Astropath Transcendant. Monstrous willpower. Notorious advocate of psychic power pissing matches, and freshly endowed with wings, somehow. Your glorious narrator and remembrancer.


The Lord-Captain commands the crew to go fetch the gemstones out of the water. He proclaims that they will be "Handsomely Rewarded".

Not very convincing, but the Lord-Captain doubles-down -- after we cash this in, they'll have enough to buy a transport shuttle. (Between them? He doesn't specify.) This wins them over, and the last one into the water has to clean the Lord-Captain's bathroom.

While they work, I take wing, and aside from a chance to properly stretch my wings, I do wonder about what lies further out; the deeper the water, the bigger the gemstones seem to be. But back on shore, further down the shore from our position, I can see wooden tents and huts of a ramshackle nature. I immediately phone it in.

The Lord-Captain dispatches Wash and the Scots to go check it out; Wash arrives to find it deserted, but there's a firepit which has seen use in the last week or so, and definite signs of life in the past.

Whoever or whatever it is, they were cutting down trees; and most importantly, they were using some sort of metal edge on the axe -- unusual for this planet of nature and wraithbone. Humanoid footprints in the sand, and more than one kind.

The Lord-Captain sends us into the forest to go look for whoever lives here.

The Lord-Captain also takes the time to plant his flag with the Hohenheim family crest: Two mastiffs flanking a single throne gelt, and an all-seeing eye in the center.

As I'm circling the forest, I realize I might have lost someone. I get the Scots to sound off - One through Four sound off, then Six. We've lost Five. I tell Six, the closest, to go find him, and group with him. I pop a flare.

We find Scot #5, he's definitely dead. A hole in the head does that. He died at a temple of pale stone. There are more statues here, some sort of xenos eldar.

The rest of the command crew shows up, following the flare. The magos does a proper post-mortem. Died with his hand on his radio, facing the temple. Whatever it was, it left a jagged hole -- no sniper's bullet.

I inch closer to the temple, and take a peek inside. Ruined chambers, three of them. Most have alcoves and statues on pedestals. In one of the rooms, we see six statues, and two empty plinths.

Wash tries to cut the weapon off one of the statues, and has a real hard time of it -- even with the power field on his sword, it's just bouncing off.

The Lord-Captain is concerned about where the statues went -- there's clear marks where they would stand, but no tracks of them departing the statue.

Plasma doesn't fare much better against the statues.

I ping for life to do another headcount. I don't get much, in here. Wash radios for a headcount.

This time, Nine isnt' responding. He never made it to Rendezvous. I take half the remaining scots to go look for what I assume is his going to be his body.

Wash checks the next chamber out. Four statues, four empty. One of the empty spaces was occupied by a statue, now broken. No secret doors, though. The last chamber has just one statue, and seven empty pedestals.

Hidden on / in one of the plinths is some sort of strange hollow tube. He can't ascertain it's function, and he doesn't have a mouth to blow it with, so he puts it... into his jetpack's exhaust. It doesn't play off any notes.

The Lord-Captain and the Magos arrive just in time to see Wash roast his hand.

The three keep blowing it and inserting fingers into it, but aren't making much progress. The Lord-Captain throws it to the Scots to figure out.

"Nah, nah, you're doing it wrong"
"You gotta work the shaft"
"Use your lips! More tongue!"

The Lord-Captain decides to slap all the statues. It oddly just makes him sad and depressed.

Meanwhile, we find Scot 9, on the beach. This time, he was killed from behind. I radio it in, and we regroup at the temple.

The trip is uneventful, but we phone in to see where the Kevins are at. They're all accounted for, except Wheelchair Kevin, who turned out to not be nearly as buoyant as expected.

As I return, I learn of the "flute" and want to give it a go. I get an impression off the flute: "Intruders". All the other wraithbone I've touched today -- the sword, and now the statues, just make me sad.

The Lord-Captain wants to go hunt Eldar. I psychically scan for life at increased range, and... I find a super-strong psyker, and they're right in the middle of our group. We should make for the ship with all haste.

On our way to the ship, I check again for psykers. All birds and animals for half a kilometer run. The psyker's power has now been greatly diminished, but he still appears to be hiding amongst us!

We get back to the ship, and take off to scan for Eldar using the Auspex. Nothing inland, but we pick up a sail. The boat is crewed by two tanned humans. One of them dives into the ocean the moment we get near. The Lord-Captain has Wash bring the cutter in close, and he jumps out.

He sticks the landing, but the canoe immediately capsizes under his size and weight. It turns out swimming is not his forte, especially when he's bedecked in finery, and carrying two chain axes. He winds up ducking the one fisherman left as they try to right the canoe.

We throw down a line and pull them both up. The fisherman is terrified; he seems to respond to Low Gothic, but he doesn't quite speak it. The Captain skips the foreplay and has me dig into his mind.

His name is Gavin. Not insane. Excellent physical condition. Terrified as all-get-out.

No corruption. Understandably confused. He lives on the island his buddy is swimming to. He has been unfaithful with his fishing buddy's wife. Dude.

The Lord-Captain wants us to go after the other fisherman. As we get close, we see the tribe emerging to meet us. Wash lands the gun cutter in a friendly manner.

We're approached by inhabitants of the village; they call themselves The Santarchs, they believe this place to be their Paradise, and they believe this is their reward for a life of hardship; should they perish, they simply reincarnate. The leader claims to be 300 years old in his current incarnation.

This knowledge comes from their writings -- an incredibly-battered book named the Sola Fidae. It predates the Imperial Creed, and makes no mention of the Emperor -- analogous to the old ideology of Bhuddism.

We get a vox -- the other Rogue Traders are making their way through the warp. We warn the others.

"We can't very well fit the entire planet into our holds."
"Not with that attitude, you can't."

They seem to be content with splitting the bounty of the planet further. We get what we've got so far to our ship.

Fel hails us to banter. He insults me and says no amount of Rejuvenat can fix me. I'm wounded.

We race back down to the surface. Aside from looting as much as we can, we're going to save that village.




In orbit:

Raider: Chains of Dusk (Feckward)
Transport: Grace of Sopho (Charlabelle)
Transport: The Danse Macabre (LeFrancois)
Frigate: Fel Hand
Frigate: The Absolute Ambition
Lt. Cruiser: Hammer of Truth (Scourge)
Lt. Cruiser: The Nihontu (Sun Lee) + 3 Raider Escorts
Cruiser: The Ordained Destiny (Blitz)
Cruiser: The Colossus (Bastille)



The Plan: Grab as much gems as we can, save the village and take them aboard. While Fel is sending down multiple landers, send the Scots to hijack one. We empty out the gems and replace the cargo with murder servitors, and fly it up to infiltrate the Fel Hand.

Once in, we scuttle or cripple the ship, steal one of the shipments of gems returned, and take the lander to our ship.

If not destroyed, we declare beef with Fel (like anyone didn't know we had it) and destroy him, stranding him on the planet.