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Darko, Have you read my last post? I think I need a player event, I'm stuck without an idea...

a player event would be good to kick-start all these new players...

wizard12 wrote:

We should probably refrain from off-topic now...

Indeed.

This also includes posting characters/ideas that are not suitable or fitting for the story either. Please don't try and spoil other posters games, if it's not for you, then don't read the thread or post in it. Similarly if you have quit or left the story, then there's no need for you to post in this thread.

Edit: Added names to the legion

Character name: Marduk the Inheritor
Character age: Despite being born over ten thousand years ago, he is only 517 years old (for any who care)
Character race: Chaos Space Marines, Word Bearers
Character profession: Dark Apostle
Character personality: Extremeley intelligent and sadistic. He recruits people for the dark gods.
Character appearance: His armors' helmet has large tusks. Armour is adorned with skulls, trophies and parchments
Character height: 10'2"
Character equipment: Terminator armour, Accursed Crozius, Reaper autocannon
Character bio/background story: Former first acolyte to Kol Badar, he became a Dark Apostle upon his masters death. Blessed with visions of the dark gods, Marduk has proven to be highly favoured. On multiple occasions he has demonstrated the ability to summon daemons directly from the warp on a whim. He is armed with the daemon possessed reaper autocannon Borh'gal, an archaic weapon from the Dark Age of humanity.


Legion of the word:
Champion Gilgamah – Power armour, powerfist, plasmapistol
9 Chosen Terminator champions. 2 with Heavy flamers
Amon ‘The Raven born’ – (Sorceror)
9 Chosen Sorcerors
20 Marines
Bune ‘The cursed’ – (Dreadnought)
Rahab ‘The fallen’ – (Dark techmarine formally Iron Hand techmarine)



The warp gate rippled, massive figures of warriors with such discipline and precision, marched into the darkness. Blood red armour of millennia old design resembled Astrates pattern armour, but these were embellished with runes and sigils of dark, archaic power. Ancient parchment fluttered as they moved.

A huge daemon forged dreadnought, chained down by dozens of servitors, was brought out in between an honour guard of 20 marines. Its huge shape dominated the view. Guttural, vox-altered growls came from the speakers, wrought into its ornate chassis.


Marduk the Inheritor, clad in terminator pattern war plate led them into the darkness. His hulking shoulder guards formed of polished gold and black iron, cast massive shadows in his wake. A burning book, the symbol of the Word Bearers legion, was etched into his armour. Tiny glowing runes and parchment covered in dark whispers draped over every surface of his armour. His helm sporting half metre tusks. He carried with him a heavy, bronze autocannon, thrumming with dark, malevolent power. His Crozius was hanging from his belt.

‘Brother Demogorgon, it truly has been too long’ his voice deep and mechanical. Marduk reached his free hand out, showing it was empty. The darkness in this cavernous room was so deep it took several moments for his vision to tune to the darkness. Marduk removed his tusked helm, revealing a grining daemon like face. An eight pointed star was tattooed to his forehead, and small horns protruded from his crown. His eyes were completely black.

reds8n wrote:

wizard12 wrote:

We should probably refrain from off-topic now...

Indeed.

This also includes posting characters/ideas that are not suitable or fitting for the story either. Please don't try and spoil other posters games, if it's not for you, then don't read the thread or post in it. Similarly if you have quit or left the story, then there's no need for you to post in this thread.

Thank you red, but until someone breaks the rules, I think we'll get along well enough without intervention from the mods.

Scrazza wrote:Darko, Have you read my last post? I think I need a player event, I'm stuck without an idea...

I'll get on it when I can. As I've said, got a lot of Admin right now.

Player Event

The Hive Mind Stirs

Ghost Had been a Scout Sergeant of the Ultramarines for many years, preferring the beauty of a stealth kill to that of a blazing fire-fight, although he wasn't afraid to so so if the situation had required it.

Now at the behest of an Inquisitor, he was applying his considerable skills to bypassing the battle in the lower hulk like a breath of stale air, and about as visible, he had sat for a while and observed the Ork camp, reporting back his observations and even getting the ork warboss within his cross-hairs as he met with another of his foul kind, he'd considered taking the shot, but that wasn't his mission, and so he preceded on.

Now he was nearing the co-ordinates he had been ordered to recon, only the barest amount of light filled this section of the hulk, and he was glad for his night vision goggles, with the machine spirt's blessing he could still see well enough to make his way.

Not that he seemed to need it now, as the passage way he was in was blocked, as had all the others he had tried, with a strange fleshy wall, he'd considered using his melta bombs to clear a path, he had dismissed it as too noisy, but now it looked like he'd have no choice.

He threw back his camo-cloak to reach his melta bombs, and felt it snag on something behind him. He froze. The corridor had been smooth rock until this point. There was nothing for his cloak to get stuck upon.

He spun around, pulling his knife from his scabbard just as the Lictor brought down its scything talons and impaled the scout sergeant though the chest, severing both his arms as it did so.

Ghost opened his mouth to spit upon the beast, but it moved far quicker than him and drove it's feeder tendrils through his eyes to his brain, and began to feed, draining his skull of brain-matter as it absorbed the information located with the dead scouts mind while it was still warm
There was prey on the Hulk. Lots of it, divided and waring itself, and the hulk was heading to a world rich in biomass, but first, the hiveship must replenish its reserves and awake from hibernation.

Obeying the directive planted within its mind, the Lictor vanished into the shadows, leaving a trail of pheonmmoes in its wake. Shortly after, a tide of chitin and clawed death began to move in its wake.

The Hive Mind had turned its attention to The Tomb Sanguinis

Demogorgon waited in front of the warpgate, a massive construct of daemon-forged metal, imbued with arcane powers and arching over the Dread Walk. The gate shimmered then sprang to life. The sight of the Dread Walk replaced by the swirling vortex of the warp. Several daemons sprang out opportunistically before they were clubbed then carted away. Then the murky shapes of space marines appeared, slowly growing more defined as they drew closer to the Gate.




Twenty Chaos marines walked out followed by a massive dreadnaught-in-chains. But what had Demogorgon’s full attention was the terminator in front.


Marduk the Inheritor.


Stretching out a hand and showing that it was empty, the customary greeting, The Inheritor removed his helm and spoke. “Brother Demogorgon, it truly has been too long.” Demogorgon stomped over and grasped the outstretched hand at the wrist, the symbol for a pacted alliance. “The same here Marduk, we last met some 51 years ago, if I am correct?” the deaemon-faced apostle laughed. “Yes, last I saw you, you were descending upon a group of Holy watchers, screaming like a Lord of Change.” Demogorgon considered this and trawled his mind for a name, it took only a second for it to surface. “Abraxes. The home planet of the Holy watchers chapter, correct?” “As always.” Replied the other. Demogorgon walked over his quarters. “As much as I would like to reminisce about times past, we have some rather pressing matters to deal with.” Announced Demogorgon, brushing past the shawl that coved the door, and into the incense-filled room that was his quarters.



“And what would these be?” asked Marduk, obviously intrigued. Demogorgon glanced at him and headed to a cage in the corner. “This.” He said, and tore off the canvas covering the crate. Inside was a female eldar, lying on a cot. She sceamed when she saw them, and pressed herself against the wall. Marduk looked fascinated. “An eldar. And one of the more warlike craftworlds too.” Demogorgon smirked. “Yes, the fools of Alaitoc, the ones who believe that the eldar can ‘save themselves’ from the fall”


Marduk laughed. “Their time is over. They did not see the powers that be for the salvation they truly were.”
“Yes.” Replied Demogorgon. “But there is a problem that demands our attention…though not for long.” Marduk raised his eyebrows “Oh? Do tell.” Demogorgon lowered his voice and in a hiss, and explained “the old enemys of both the Night Lords AND the World Bearers: A Templar, Feris Night.”


Marduk frowned. “Who?” “One of those righteous Black Templars” answered the Night Lord. The inheritor sighed. “A Marshall?” “Yes.” When Demogorgon said this, Marduk Frowned. “You said he wouldn’t be a problem for long…why?”


Demogorgon smirked. “tell me...have you ever met The Prophet?”

Why thank ya Harrab. I quite enjoyed that. It was rather delicious.

The chatter of autoguns and the fizz-crack of hellguns filled the air. Marcus looked up from the dirt and back to the house he had been standing by. Well at least the mystery of the last demo charge had been solve he laughed humorlessly. The taskforce had been ambushed by not a rabble of deserters and traitors but instead by what seemed to be a highly trained, well equipped infantry force. A armoured vehicle of an unknown class, though it looked like a trojan with the back hatches removed and two heavy stubbers placed on it. Their opponent was armed with a mixture of automatic weapons and bolt action rifles, many sporting bayonets. The grenadiers were fighting back though, many had taken the initiative and took up firing positions in the ork shacks. Marcus' team were taking cover in the ruins of the ex-shack; he crawled over to them. The ground rumbled as one of the task forces chimera transports rolled into the ork encampment and unleashed scathing fire from it's heavy bolter. Within a few seconds of it firing, rifle grenades started to bang of the armoured hull and an RPG shot soared over it's turret. Marcus drew his pistol and carefully aimed, snapping a shot off into the torso of the RPG wielder. As he fell, his finger hit the trigger of the RPG and sent a second rocket flying into the air. It didn't quite reach the roof of the compartment but came close, then it dived down into the attackers positions sending up a great plume of dust and smoke.

Other trojan like vehicles were beginning to appear, bringing with them fresh squads of infantry. Somewhere a grenadier threw a grenade into one of the open tops of the vehicle and it exploded in a spectacular fashion. In another place one of the support stubbers the grenadiers used started to fire as it finally got into position, mowing down many men. But still the enemy came, the task force was outnumbered...

"Cecil, do you have a vox link? Mine's busted!" Marcus shouted over the din of fighting.

"Sure." The gruff captain grunted, throwing Marcus a small yet tough looking handset. It linked up with the master vox equipment on board the command chimera giving Marcus a long and strong signal range. Selecting the frequency he'd issued Adlinea, the vulture's pilot, he sent out a simple message.

"Scavenger 1: enemy forces encountered, close air support required, payload of anti-cover anti-infantry munitions. Scavenger 1 do you copy?"

It took twelve attempts before he got a response, "ETA 3 minutes"

"Oh she's quick isn't she" Captain Cecil shouted in anger as he overheard the conversation. He released his frustration into an unfortunate renegade who happened to step out of cover at the wrong time.

"I'm sure the wait will be worth it." Marcus replied, clipping man in the shoulder, the blast from his hell pistol packing enough force to blow the man's arm off.


The three minutes slid by slowly, the grenadiers, despite their superior training and armour were taking a toll to the massed gunfire of the opposing forces. And additional squad who hadn't made it out of the under ground hallways in time joined the defenders, bringing a small mortar which targeted the strange armoured vehicles.

The vulture appeared like lightning and struck like thunder. Coming from seemingly nowhere to unleash a payload of rockets into the various positions of the enemy infantry. It came in low for another strafing run blasting apart building and body alike with twin autocannons. He twisted and pivoted in the air to hover close to Marcus' position where it laid down heavy fire.

Emboldened by the newly found air support, the grenadiers rushed forwards into hand to hand combat with the enemy forces. Marcus joined the charge, power sword in hand. He hacked through a rifleman then dueled shortly with an officer before decapitating him with an elegantly executed riposte. The enemy was on the run, he could feel it. A grueling fight that lasted mere seconds which seemed like hours, it was over quickly.

The enemy force disappeared as stealthily as it had appeared, but they were still deadly. As the task force searched the abandoned ork village, small traps would go off or a lone marksman would take shots at the grenadier teams. The vulture hovered overhead, the chin mounted heavy bolter surveying the surrounding area, every now and then letting off a burst of fire into some building somewhere.

The rubble by Marcus shifted and he swirled around to see a wild eyed man holding an RPG. Before Marcus could cut him down the man fired it towards the vulture. It glanced off one of the wings and spiraled away to detonate close by the engine. There was a cough and a bust of dark smoke from the engine a shrapnel jammed the it. The rear of the vulture burst into flame. As the vulture screamed to the ground Marcus emptied the mans organs onto the ground, though the man didn't seem to care.

"With me!" Marcus shouted, vaulting a barricade of ruble and scrap metal. Snipers took their chance and rounds bounced into the dirt and shacks around him but Marcus kept running. There was a crash as the vulture hit the ground, remarkably the fuel tank didn't explode.

It had crashed into a flat square of ground. Shots rang out from cover all around the area, some hitting the bullet-proof windows of the vulture's cockpit, other whizzed passed Marcus, a rare few struck the armour plates of the men following him, though they had little effect. The rear of the cockpit seemed to be catching alight and the crew were fighting the fire with miniature fire-extinguishers while keeping their heads down to protect them from incoming fire that managed to penetrate the glass. Marcus and his men slid into cover by the cockpit.

"Covering fire!" Marcus shouted and the squad fired in the general direction of the incoming enemy fire. The fire in the cockpit was spreading and the roof seemed to have jammed. Lifting his pistol Marcus hammered the glass one, twice... three times and it broke. He reached into the cockpit and dragged out the pilot, Adlinea, the started to try and smash the co-pilot window.

And still the fire was spreading. The man was alight now, his fire resistant flight suit smoldering, it's hood drawn close over his head. One of the grenadier started to hammer the glass as well but each blow just bounced off. "What the hell do they make this stuff out of?!" The grenadier cursed as he tried harder. The co-pilot had started to scream as flames engulfed his body. The glass warped and melted in the heat until it was impossible to hammer many more.

Marcus shot into the cabin, putting the poor man out of his misery.

"We've got to get out of here!" Shouted one of the grenadiers, shortly before a round clipped him in the shoulder.

By luck one of the chimera's rolled up into the square on patrol unleashing it's heavy bolter into the enemy fire potions bringing a quick halt to the fire fight. Marcus helped a grenadier carry the unconscious pilot into the transport. Commander Zhakov was not going to be pleased...


The journey back to base camp was quiet. The task force had lost several men today, and no matter how Marcus thought about it, the whole ambush had been arranged for him.

Someone out there wanted him dead more than most people did...


Ooc: there, all lose ends tied up I may do the odd development post if the event takes a long time but nothing that should screw up your plans Darko.

Warklaw managed to make the remainder of his mouth follow the same gesture as Gorskar's in a big tusked smile. The hatch closed again and the dread that was now Warklaw stood up to its full height. The dreads around Warklaw also came to attention (as much as an ork can)

"Deyz around ere dun you worry, listen fer all da racket and youz boyz will find em, deyz lots of em, you tink dey did dis ta me cauze I ain't ard enough?" Warklaw growled. "Da humiez ain't playin around, dis hulk is portant to em so dey pulled out all da stops; big tanks, speh mahreens, dem umie wierdboyz, methinks dey even saw one of dem humie witch unters, lots ov fun fer da boff of us! So wotdya say Gorksar? Youz boys wanna show dem da powah ov Gork an Mork?"

At the mention of the two orky gods there was a metallic "WAAAAGH!" that came from his assemebled dreads.

Gorskar nodded, and gave a toothy grin.
"You wanna team up? You gots it."
He motioned to one of his Meganobz.
"Get Skargrim on da line, tell 'im to send da next wave in. Dere's 'umies t' kill!"
The Meganobz roared too, a full-throated Waaagh! issuing from them. They weren't going to be outdone, not when the Warlord himself had hand-picked them for his personal mob.

Gorskar's gaze returned once more to the old shoulder plate, and visions of battle and conquest once more danced in front of his eyes. Yes, things had definitely become interesting. The only real downside was that Wurrdakka would probably demand to test his latest new-fangled kans, something Gorskar resigned himself to. Who knew? His designs might actually prove to be the miracles he kept claiming.

+++UDATED CHARACTER +++




Character name: Demogorgon (original name...unknown.)
Character age: ? (all that can lend aid to his possible age is the fact that he has known his friend and ally: Marduk the Inheritor for thousands of years, they most likely met during the heresy.)
Character race: humane/chaos space marine/terminator lord
Character profession:Night lord warband leader
Character personality: Darkly humorous, cold, calculating.
Character appearance:like moat marines he is bald and immense. with a powerful but lithe build. he wears the skulls of his most vaunted enimies on a belt on his waist and their prized weapons adorn his quarters upon his (now fused to the hulk) ship heart of darkness
Character height: 12 feet tall
Character equipment: Terminator armor, chaotic rosarius,(daemon possessed powersword), or chainsword, storm shield, storm bolter(with bayonet), power/chainfist combo (the kind with the spiky fingers)
Character bio/background story: aside from the fact that he and his warband have been stranded on the hulk for 50 years now and among some denizens among it ar a horrifying legend, coming to kill and murder then to drag the survivors off fro who knows what.

(all that is known o his motives is that he wishes to forward his insidious plans of daemon princehood)

much that is known of the terminator lord Demogorgon and his 'midnight host' was lost in the sands of time. what is known however is that he served as a captain under konrad kurz himself during the heresy also being the fact that the marnes under his command all bear then names of great daemons. and that he has forged himself a warband three hundred and fifteen warriors strong, a position of power many aspiring champions only dream of...

major NPC's.

Orcus: Demogorgon's second and commander of the 150 tactiacal marines

Pazuzu: commander of the 50 chaos raptors.

Baphomet:commands the 50 chaos havocs

Yeenoghu :commands the 30 chaos terminators

Dagon: commands the 10 chaos dreadnoughts

Vulcarik: commands the five dark mechanicus

Kardum: (beta-level psyker) commands the five chaos sorcerers

Hell sister Sheila Malacanthet: (consort of Demogorgon) commands 4 corrupted sisters of battle

psychic blank: Kerzit

-vox- 'This is Samuel Galgotah. Requesting immediate assistence. The 5 of us cant get that Night Lord's down singlehandedly. Can you hear me?'
'Affirmative. Sending in reinforcements. Hold your position.'
'Awaiting reinforcements.' - end vox-

Samuel looked around him. No enemies nearby. Only he and the other 4 paladins.
'Sir' one of them asked. 'Who are we looking for exactly?'
'That Night Lord Warband Leader, Demogorgon. He has terrorised this long enough.'

-vox- 'How long till the reinforcements arrive?'
'10 minutes. Hold your lines. Were coming. Expect 10 terminators, a psyker, 15 purifiers, 5 paladins, a dreadnought, dreadknight and 20 Grey Knights.' - end vox-

BIC:

"My lord the Auspexes detects something." Said one of the Brother-templars.

"But we were just here before?" Replied Feris

"It is the khorne Cultists i will crush them." Said the dreadnought in anger.

Feris looked around the corner and saw it was Cultists the mighty dreadnought stormed at the Cultists. They leaped for their weapons and fire at the holy hull the dreadnought just lifted his flamer and fired. Only 2 Cultists were left so the dreadnought grabbed them with his power claws and crushed them.

"Your a weak warriors Cultists." The dreadnought said then a deep laugh came out.

-vox- 'This is Samuel Galgotah again. How long till reinforcements?'
'5 Minutes. Hows your situation?'
'Calm.'
'Fine. Were coming in.'
-end vox-


-vox-
'Can you hear me?'
' Yes sir.'
'Good. Have your reinforcements arrived?'
'No, they havent.. or, wait! Yes, they are incoming. Lovely group. Thanks for reinforcements. Now, lets find that Night Lords.'
-end vox-

Feris got a new message for the high marshal

"Brother-marshal im sending a Castellan and 50 Brother- marines."

"thank you my lord." Replied Feris

"Hold here we must meet with this new Castellan." Ordered Feris.

'This is Castellan Leman Vern reporting to our fellow Black Templars. How are you doing there?'

"We are holding brother. What do Your brothers have." Said Feris

"We have a new Castellan arriving this should be good." Said the dreadnought.

'We are here with 50 battle-brothers., 2 dreadnoughts and a Reclusiarch. You guys there? We had to reinforce you by order of the High Marshal.'

"We are waiting for you brother." Replied Feris

'Were around 5 minutes away from you. If everything goes well, you will soon see 2 nice and dandy Thunderhawks moving to your position.' Vern replied.

"I see you brother" Said Feris.

The Large black Thunderhawks landed in the near by hanger. Feris went to go greet the new Castellan. First the Castellan left the thunderhawks and then Reclusiarch Riles and then the rest of the troops.

"Welcome to the fight brothers be ready for anything." Said Feris.

"Im glad we are fighting togther Marshal." Replied Leman

Feris kneeled before the Reclusiarch's blessing.

'Whats your situation? Were here to help you out.' Vern laughed. Always nice to meet some other Black Templars.
Vern already had the blessing of the reclusiarch that came with him, so he didnt need antoher.
Suddenly, something else approached with him out of the Tunderhawk. Leman Vern smiled.
'Surprise.' he said to his Marshal. Out of the ship came a squad of sword brethren.

Feris ignored the Castellan because he was still being blessed. After it was finish Feris removed his helmet which was very rare and smiled that was even rarer.

"I thank you brother. The situation is chaos is crawling all over this ship, necrons are here,so are tau and orks and eldar but these eldar are different they care for the imperium. I am not allied with them brother so dont say im a traitor. The imperial guard are here. I am seeking a chaos night lord he killed a great friend and ally." Feris told Leman.

Leman Vern still wondered why there were Night Lords on this ship, and why they were so much interested in this ship. There wasnt something special to do with this ship? It also seemed strange that the Eldar were allied with the Imperium. What did those Xenos want with this ship? And chaos? Nothing was sure. He only knew one thing that could be sure: this ship is special..

((OOC: Sorry bout the short post, have stuff to do.))
"Erebus spoke of him, an oracle of sorts. I take it that he is here then." Erebus felt like a fool speaking to shadows. The darkness irked him. He new the Nostraman born could see as if it were day. Not to mention the sheer number of them, they had the advantage completely. "Your numbers have swollen since last I saw"

'Now, brother,' Leman Vern said, 'where is Chaos. I feel them. We all do.'

Vern looked behind him. There was an army anxious for action there.

'The ship must be purged from all of them. And we aren’t here to just talk, my brother.' Said Brother Leman.

“You will spill the traitors blood brother we all will just wait we will find them.” Replied Feris knowing chaos would find them.

The large force of templars marched down the corridors ready to battle. Feris’s warriors were more experienced in fighting chaos because his weapons were lightning claws, power weapons and chainswords. Leman’s brothers were better fighting xenos because their weapons were ranged heavy bolters, plasma guns and flamers. Feris was thinking to himself about the elder why they were here, where is the farseer and why did he save that female elder.

“Brother are you ok?” Asked Leman

“Yes I am Brother Why do you ask” Replied Feris

“I like to make sure all brothers are to the best of their ability.” Said Leman letting out a smile.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Replied Feris

As they finished the conversation a large group of khorne berserkers burst from the bulky door Yelling “BLOOD FOR BLOOD GOD AND SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE” Yelled all the berserkers.

“BURN HERETICS. FLAMERS FRONT NOW!” Yelled Feris. The Brothers with flamers ran to the front of the group and fired their holy flames the berserkers of khorne screamed like Bhargesi as they were purged from the universe.

Demogorgon glanced at the world bearer. "yes, they have." "how?" asked the inheritor "my quest has hundreds flocking to my call. and yes, the Soul Hunter will arrive soon." sensing the world bearer's irritation at the pitch blackness Demogorgon ordered his servitors to turn on the Heart of Darkness's lights.

Marduk's eyebrows rose. "Talos is Coming here?"

"yes" replied the Night Lord "as well as the fact that the rest of my warband, which was on loan to The Exalted, they should be coming in on the Covenant of Blood in one days time."

Marduk frowned "wouldn't that endanger them?"

"No the Covenant of Blood is staying far out of the way of the weakling imperium's ships, they are coming through the warpgate"

"I see now." Mutterd Marduk, obveisly more at home with the lights and torches at a standard level. "how goes your quest?"

Demogorgon grimaced slightly at this. "it has ground to a halt. fifty years on this hulk and it has ground to a halt."

"So you have not yet discovered it?" queried the world bearer.

"All I know is that what I seek is somwhere on this hulk...and I think that the ulthwe farseer has somthing to do with it."

Leman Vern shot the Khorne Berzerkers with ease. All around him were the heretics being cleansed. This was his first battle at the hulk.
He cursed the traitors, and ran into melee. All around him Black Templars did the same. The fight was in the favor of the Black Templars, as they had the numbers.
However, the Khorne Berzerkers werent out of oppertunities. They managed to kill some of the Black Templars, before they were all killed.
'A well fought battle, brother Feris' He said, before heightening his power sword and pushing the weapon in the chest of a Berzerker.

Lucius was sulking...

Fact was he didn't even understand half what was going anymore... first of all he gets posted to that warp blasted ball of ice in honour of the ancient pact, which was obviously a mistake by one of the House Elders. Could they not realise his true potential? He was certain that at least he would be given a posting on one of the House's Rogue Traders if not a bonded courier!

It was so unfair. The "entertainments" offered at the Fang ranged between barbaric to crude. Even the fething food and drink would not be suitable for consumption by a 3rd rate sanitization servitor!!!

...and now this! just as he had come to terms with this cruel twist of fate (and managed to secure permanent quarters in the House Belisarius Orbital Station) he gets summarily summoned to that Great Savages lair and ordered, yes ORDERED to put himself as well as all house assets available in the Fenris system at the disposal of the most decrepit, louse-ridden, yellow toothed relic he had ever laid eyes on!!

It could almost not bear to imagined, but on top of it all he could not even blink his pineal eye it was swollen, burnt and he had never had to endure such headaches in his life before... The Savage blazed like a sun!!! Even with his normal sight he imagined he could see tendrils of eldritch force weave around him.

He steeled himself and looked up. Trying to the best of his ability to maintain the polite smile on his lips and not to let his hand tremble as he looked across the Boardroom table at just the person he did not want to see...

Sigurd "storm crow"... Lucius suppressed a shudder.
Right now the Rune Priest was dodderingly demolishing the better part of a haunch of what looked like barely cooked Elk... there where streams of blood and gravy dribbling down his chin, soaking his wispy beard... the sight was enough to make an Ogryne retch... and that was without the sound effects.

He carefully attempted a sip of the faintly Narcotic elixir he had procured at great personal cost while watching what was in effect the cost of a minor star system’s net wealth of fine Narc-wine being poured more or less into the Savage's maw...
The sound of something shattering and what a barely human roar filled the ships corridors from the crew mess…
He closed his eyes and tried to not scream in frustration. That was the 3rd brawl since boarding barely 8 hours ago…
It was going to be a long voyage. He smiled. At least in the secure Pilots Chair he would be spared having to watch as these beasts destroyed his fine mono monocular glassware…