Ashton- "not good, Not good not good," She said as she ducked as some one soured over her she needed to get down she spotted, Dom Coming in, It seems while most of this was happening a kroot had taken interest in him, She wasn't use to close combat with any weapon, She was better at shooting or holding of strikes with her staff, She saw someone Crash into another in the dark and began crawling towards them, Dom could likely handle himself, As she approached it was the women from before, and the eldar that had come in, "Need a hand I am a doctor and help heal some of those wounds you took, Likely a few bruises, But I can heal them if you want." She said as she approached and kept her self down while trying to help. [Result- asking to heal Adel and kraig and will attempt if any say yes] Domino- Domnio Let out a roar as the battle came several heavy bolter shots soared into the ceiling from above and landed on him. His and dented his helm. Another came from a kroot who sen't a drink that smashed agaisnt his face. He was now angry. He took out his power axe and kept it off as he wen't forward heading towards the kroot he brought his axe up aiming to take a arm off the kroot. [Result Attempting to attack a kroot]
Treleskan watched the fight progress. The Haemonculus looked slightly impressed; most of the clientele were smart, smart enough that is to avoid a Haemonculus. This put him in a good mood, and he hummed a little tune, humming along to the music played by the band (show must go on, eh?) while he finished his drink. He kept an eye on that stunning Eldar woman now and again, seeing how she handled herself in a fight. Varl found himself watching the subtle interplay of her muscles, seeing in his mind's eye the elegant weave of fasciae and pearly white skeletal ... a sigh escaped his lips. {Result: observation]
<Captain Alea Vatton> Her arm shot up and caught the Kroot's arm, her face an unmoving mask even as the creature's knife plunges into her forearm. The Runes of Battle inscribed on her armor lit up as soon as the knife penetrated her skin. "I was gonna let you live...but not now. Now you will BURN!!" Fire arced between the two points of contact she had with the Kroot, setting him a blaze with witchfire. Her eyes changed to the same color as the fire, and her wings unfurled as she concentrated the intense heat on to her opponent. She maintained her grip on her opponent like a strange dance to keep the fire centered on the Kroot. [Results: It's an Eldar Rune of Battle spell from the Craftworld Codex called Destructor. Sets the target ablaze. She will not let go of him, but the fire should not spread from him should he escape it.]
After his short flight across the bar he collided with another combatant. After being thrown off of her he quickly dusted himself off, noticing some tenderness in his left shoulder. He lunged back after the Eldar who had thrown him. He would feel Kraig's wrath! Leaping onto his back Kraig began to pummel the Eldar with his bare fists before bouncing his head off the floor several times. He jumped up and pointed at the next Eldar. "You're next!!" He then barreled into the Eldar colliding with his right knee, which dislocated it at an awkward angle. He grabbed him by the ears and head butted him. Once he was out he dropped his head with a thud on the floor. [Results: 2 Incapacitated eldar] Kraig Lightly Wounded
The music came to an abrupt end and in the microphone a loud growl of pain came as the Tau was lifted into the air and collided with the drums, doing luckily nothing but bruising him a bit. Only for a short time he laid on the floor, as the Tau was lifted back to his feet by assistance of the Eldar singer/temporary guitarist. The three-armed drummer mutant fixed his instrument and the rather fragile Air Caste member first of all drew his Pulse Pistol with his right hand, and second of all continued to hold the Microphone in his left. The band starting to play into the the next song as he took careful aim, picking a target out from the mass. He shot at a wild Orkoid, however, he allowed the song to be a purely instrumental song for now as he made sure to protect his fellows musicians. View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U8Jsnz16X4U
Dras' helmet continued to move back and forth as he observed the brawl, taking careful note of the star players. The Kroot was of interest. The symbiotic relationship of Grot and Ork. The Craftworld female whom the master was obviously taking great interest in.. The list went on. Such promising individuals. To say that a Wrack was simply a Haemonculus' servant was a common misunderstanding. He was a fleshcrafter in training. Unlike his graceful teacher, Dras had been adapted to be a butcher among Commorrites. Dras lacked the finesse and grace of Treleskan's work. His knowledge so far accumulated to how to rend, to tear, and to horrifically maim the bodies of Eldar and lesser beings. Such a bloody art, did he seek to master. Such a bloody art he had a chance to practice once more, should one of these fools seek to come too close.
<Spike Spiegel> For most of the bar incident,including both the drinking contest and brawl that ensued,Spike sat in the corner of the bar,drinking his beer,smoking his well deserved lho-stick and enjoying the show.Contact was right and the flow of data through the noosphere increased in both quantity and quality since that Eldar walked aboard this station.How none noticed a man in the corner watching them all,studying them,is probably credited to his ability to be part of 'mentality',sticking not out of the crowd.He just seemed (when Spike wants to be) an unremarkable man.Another retired drunkard with a fancy coat that came here to drown his sorrow or to forget.Of the later...strands of truth are tangible. Apart from being vivdly powerful,unafraid of using her sorcery,winged Eldar was also eye catching.She held a poise of experience like so many Eldar does,but to infocyte`s acute sight,she seemed more then that.She was a complete mystery.She left no traces in the imperial or Tau records. It appears she had more then one admirer and the xeno in the corner with a monstrosity for a bodyguard,had her eye on the crimson Eldar.Actually both of them,seeing as he was captivated more then others with her display of power.Spike knew that look in Dark Eldar`s dark eyes.He saw it so many times before in the higher strata of Hive Spires,where the rich and privileged made their lair. A look of a man that is obsessed with the raw material infront of him.A man who wants a potential used not squandered. "Maker of Angels" this one was known as.He was affiliated with a group that cut a crimson path on the fringes of the Imperium.Definetly a potential target for...retirement. There were others in the bar,who attracted the gaze of the infocyte.In mere moments,Spike processed more gigabytes of data then they ever hoped to ingest in a year,thanks to rewired pathways,alligned to neural augmentations on the back of his head.Bronze and polished-metal rings,descreetly hidden beneath nicely kept,shoulder-lenght grey hair. For Spike,behind the vapor of lho-sticks formed pict.images of case files,transactions made,crimed commited or...omitted... Names and faces blended together until it was only natural for the ex-Vanus assassin to recknognize the persons of note in this slum,as if he knew them their entire lives.In retrospect,that might be more true then false... A retired Imperial Commander... Ordained Abhuman... Runaway Psykers... Renegade Astartes... Xenos... The usual archeotypes to be found in slums.Unreckognized heroes,antihheroes,scoundrels,adventurers,mutants...traitors. Some of them deserving the Imperial Justice,some more then others,but considering his own station he let it slide.For all he knew,there might be here another Vanus at the table next to him,thinking the same... Suddenly he was broken from his musings as an Astartes bursted the celling with his heavy bolter,obviously having no idea of the target he is shooting.The shoody construction gave way and fell on one of the unfortunate xenos,the attempt for regaining order failing. Near the entrance,four individuals tried to take down a single Greenskins,clumsily runing and headbutting each other like children. Even the frontman of the group that played,or at least tried to,in this slum,took to combat.Spike was acustomed to burtality,but the combat was laughable,and he decided to spice things up,bored of the prolonged brawl. Summoning the ancient arts of murder thought to unbound infocytes,Spike slowed down his breathing.Standing up from his table,like chaos and mayhem is not around him,he finished his beverage in one go,and extinguishing his lho-stick,by eating its remains. With a sudden jerk he launch the empty tankard toward one of the Eldar as a decoy,quickly followed by silenced firing shot from his elegant Belasco Glavian Needler Pistol,the poison killing the poor Eldar in a matter of seconds,as the dart penetrated his left eyeball,spasming his muscles in a jerking,uncontrolable motion,trough his entire body. Satisfied with the shot he holstered back his beautiful gun,using in the meantime a toppled tables for cover. Kicking one of the tables toward one of the Tau who was particulary noisy,as if trying to emit a battlecry,Spike rushed out,his arms streched horizontaly in shoulder lenght.He was quick,too quick for the doomed Tau to react as a meter long blade came out of his right sleeve.With a three hundred and sixty turn,Spike decapitated the blueskinned xeno,perfectly,cutting all artiries at a perfect angle to avoid uncessesary gyseirs of blood,lest they stain his coat. In one fluid piruette,he turned around,round-house kicking the second,surviving Eldar,tossing him on one of his knees.A microsecond later,Spike`s blade found its way on Eldar`s throat.The flexible metal stained with the blood of both Eldar and Tau,stood as an executioners axe on Eldar`s neck. With a smile,Spike spoke: "Game over.Shall i take your life and stain my coat?" [OOC:Killed 1 Eldar and 1 Tau.One Eldar captured.] (GM approved)
"What a magnificent creature ..." Treleskan watched the wings unfurl from the already impressive figure of the Corsair Captain. He watched, enraptured, drinking in the pain and suffering caused by the fight with almost casual negligence, though the sheer nascent brutality of it was starting to go to his senses, a little like champagne. He took out a notebook filled with sheets of parchment. The nature of the leather binding was perhaps better not speculated upon. The spine ... well, that was a rather literal description. "Dras! Stylus," he commanded, holding out one hand without taking his eyes from his lovely Muse. Thus provided with a pen and paper, the Master Haemonculus began to sketch the Eldar lady, making detailed and precise notes and drawings in delicate crimson drawn from his own vein. His pulse quickened as he did so, leaning forward in his chair as one inspired. "What things I could make for you, with you, of you ..."
< @High_Adept_Zeth > The Eldar was drunk, but not stupid. Well... not that stupid. He stared at the Ex-assassin, and wriggled out of his grasp, "I believe I left my oven on... if you'd excuse me, Mon'Kiegh..." Was a hurriedly slurred excuse as he dashed out of the bar, tripping onto his face before disappearing into the hallways of the lawless station. < @Grall_Stonefist @Maleth @Valonox @Uriel1339 > As Kanud charged the Ork, he felt a burning bite at his back, getting in the way of Vaughn's Shot and sustaining a medium wound. Even so, the Ogryn was able to grab the Ork and pin him where he stood, which allowed Herchite to dash in and stab many vital places in a frenzy. The Ork, in his death throes, kicks the former Havoc in the chest, knocking him back and giving a light wound. It died shortly after from a pulse pistol shot to the head. < @Casavay > With the enemies cleared, Benes and Gulyas look at each other and nodded, before standing and turning to salute Adel. "Commander Satani" Began Benes, speaking in the native Otthan tongue. "What are our orders?" < @DeranVendar > The Kroot simply laughed at the claw craning towards its head, moving handy to block it even as he ignored the other servo-limb... much to his detriment. Eadbolt's kuttin' flame indeed burns through the knee, making the Kroot fall directly into the Ork's arms. One arm was snapped, allowing Handy to fall to the ground even as the Kroot's neck was crushed. That wasn't enough, though, as the Servo-claw pierces into the dead brain and rips off the head, spine coming with it and causing a few gushings of blood from the empty neck before the heart finally realized it no longer had to pump the stuff. < @MetalDog4 @Jorimel > The Kroot roared in pain, but didn't let go, instead lunging forward, knocking both of them off their feet and allowing Alea's opponent to get close enough to bring his fangs to her neck, biting down and giving a Medium Wound to the new captain. This was but his final act of defiance, as the flames quickly consumed him, leaving naught but a charred corpse. < EVERYONE > The bar was now empty save for the victors of the brawl, leaving the Captain to continue her recruitment of a crew.
As the ork died Kanud threw it away as he then hefted his ogryn proof shockmaul in hand, he hadent had a good fight, he hadent even been alowed to crush the ork "ANYONE ELSE NEED A BEATIN" he said, as he looked around, at the much smaller patrons left in the bar, they dident seem to mean him anything bad, with was good and sad. though perhaps someone needed a good clubbing
