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.

No comments:

Post a comment