OOC: Angelous - Armory Sirius - Doctor's Office; Med-Bay Tempestsus - Walking randomly around Steinar & Sigismund (@Loldoom) - Arena Marmaroth & Jannika - Everywhere and nowhere Jean (@Shadhunter ) - Med-Bay (presumably) Dorallius (@Grall_Stonefist ) - Chapel Draconion (@Draconion ) - Med-Bay (Presumably) Feron (@DeranVendar ) - Personal Quarters Gaius - Hangar presumably Gaylord Beerle (@Xaphen ) - With Draconion Jaelin (@Coffeechipmunk ) - no idea Kajar & Sitri - Hangar probably tending their vehicles (Colapse and my NPCs) Volorox (@Vulpas ) - no idea
OOC: Draconion is in the infirmary at the start of this post, but will be out of it by the end. As and when Beerle leaves, Draconion sends for a batman* servitor to bring his journals and writing effects from his quarters, and copies of every team member's individual after-action report. When the half-machine returns a short while later, it also comes bearing a note from his Chapter-brother. Draconion's lips quirk in a faint smile as he finishes reading the note, and he quickly pens a reply. ~Many thanks for the kind offer, Ancient One. I would be loathe to accept your request and seem derelict of responsibility, only the paperwork is indeed piling up. If I am not in the Forge by the time you are done with your own armour, I would be most glad of assistance. I will, however, endeavour to join you as soon as possible - I would never hear the end of it on Nocturne if word got around that I let another tend to my personal wargear. One thing I would certainly appreciate help with - if you'll remember that pile of power weapons we confiscated after the first battle, I would appreciate if you could help me locate them. The traitors are fielding some heavy armour, and the sooner we can equip the team with as many power weapons as possible, the better. Once we consecrate that lot, I can take some of them apart and double up the generators to make Astartes-grade power weapons. See you in the forge, or the mission ready room. Draconion.~ That done, he opens up his official mission log, propping the enormous tome on an easel and proceeds to write a lengthy and exhaustive report on the first Sombor mission, collating all the information from the individual reports and summarising them in a digest for Mamaroth and his command staff. Rolling his shoulders and flexing his neck, he squeezes his sore eyes shut to rest them for several minutes before quickly double-checking his work. Finding no errors to correct, he signs off on the report and gene-locks the tome, sending it off to Marmaroth via an express messenger servitor. Turning then to his personal journal, he begins to record his observations and meditations on his recent experiences. ~...it is my belief by this point that these are not mere visions or thought-residue picked up from Warp exposure, given the remarkable clarity and consistency of these experiences. They are almost certainly a concerted effort at communication, and twice now, the draconic entity has intervened to my benefit while I was Warp-lost and in danger of complete spiritual dissolution. Twice now has the entity - whom I term the Great Patriarch - indicated a world located in the midst of a red Warp storm. My initial suspicions - noted in earlier entries - were that this was the Hadex Anomaly in Jericho sector, but subsequent investigations revealed this to not be the case. In any event, I strongly suspect this world is connected to the following prophetic verses associated with Father-Librarian N'kosi, and may indicate clues as to his whereabouts, if not actually his final resting place. A burning world of monsters weeps a single tear of flame. Age-lost wisdom long forgot, the Sage shall find once again. Brothers lost in time and space, shall rally to dragons' flight. Screaming Eye shall shrink in fear as bold drakeling takes to wing. That this task was laid upon me by Lords Tu'shan and Vel'cona under an oath of utmost secrecy is onerous, as I long to confide my search for the Father-Librarian's final legacy in a trusted brother or other peer. Only the highest echelons of Deathwatch command may even be approached openly on such subject matter, and one does not confide in a superior - one simply petitions and obeys. Yet, now that I serve with an Ancient of the Chapter, I may just be able to enlist his aid, if obliquely. One so old and well-travelled as he is certain to have heard something, and perhaps I could disguise my search as a simple interest in the Chapter's history as he knows it. If I could only send word to Nocturne somehow, I would gladly enlist him openly in the search, as Brother Feron's wisdom and circumspection know few equals.~ Closing his tome and locking it behind multiple layers of genetic and psychic security, he realises he has been writing for well over a day, during which medical servitors have come to tend to his surgical wounds, assisting their healing to the point where he is able to be up and about on his own two feet and has been given leave to be mobile about the ship. Swinging his legs off the bed, he takes a few experimental steps and waist bends to see how the flesh grafts are healing. Satisfied with their progress thus far, he decides to seek Feron, first heading to his quarters to see if he can find him there. * - Old armed forces parlance for a personal orderly.
"Oh I sorry for delaying you. Thank you, you have been most helpful." Beerle said with a slight bow. He moved on to the next person who was at another room. He hated talking all official. He had multiple classes on how to talk and act all proper. Even with years invested into a Schola Progenia, it was always easier to speak his native tongue. "It makes you sound like a babbling Ork!" Manner had always said. He approached another 'room', this time he was quick to open the curtains "Excuse me, I am Agen-(@Shadhunter)
Jean looked up at the new face who seemed to have just barged into her personal quarters. Perhaps he was lost. She smiled at him for a moment and then nodded. "It's fine." She reassured him, assuming he hadn't meant to arrive here. "Go on?"
@Uriel1339 "Very well then... On your mark, 3, 2, 1!" As he spoke the final number Sigismund dug his spurs in, sending his horse rocketing forward. (Rolled 10) However Blanche was still tired from the mission, not able to keep the pace up for long before slipping and costing the pair precious seconds in the race.
Beerle's masked jaw dropped. He was stunned for a second. Not only from the beauty of the women, but because he was not prepared to see a Sister here. A lady was to be treated properly, as custom on his Homeworld. "Ri-Right. Uh, hello. Sorry for coming, uh, bargin' in. I am Beerle Gaylord, or, no, Gaylord Beerle.... I uh, am here to investigate the Traitor Inquisitor. Would you know anything about him?." Beerle asked nervously. He didn't want to scare her off so his mask was still on. Now if she would get scared by the mask's bladed teeth or Orange lenses, would be a different issue.
<Steinar Greywold - Olympian Wolf Runner> OOC: 10 on a d100? wow.... lol - 66 hue hue hue! Steinar grinned and sprinted at the same time of the horse and had quite a good start, but perhaps it was too much energy in the start? It was 300m, not a typical 100m sprint... Who wins, one shall see quite soon!
OOC: It thinks I'm playing deathwatch me thinks... (rolled 85, total 95) Once the warhorse got back into the rhythm though, the horse began to tear up the ground gaining back lost ground on the wolf.
<Steinar Greywold - Olympian Wolf Runner!> OOC: We count the total too?! rolled 27.... total 93.... argh Btw in a +/- 10 total range, I think we should make it a draw. I.e. you got 160, I got 165; it's draw. Steinar looked over his shoulder as the sound came louder and yes, it was evident. Too much energy burned at the start. They reached the 200 meter mark, all came down to the last 100 meter sprint, he grit his teeth and put all energy into his legs he had, being head to head now.
OOC on my way to the armory so I am wandering the halls Soon Volorox Entered the armory looking for possibly the tech marine in charge and his old gear. "Hope everything made it well." he said as he looked around for the head of the armory.
