Warhammer 40k Thread.

This is going to be a roleplay, based in the Warhammer 40k game/book universe. As such, it's going to be very much an action oriented thread, but in the style of Black Library book writers (Dan Abnett and Sandy Mitchells with their Gaunt's Ghosts and Ciaphas Cain novels, respectively) I will still hope for well thought out characters who bring some flair to the roleplay. That's not to say tropes/ archetypes aren't accepted... Where would an army be without it's joker, it's crazy man, it's showoff and it's loveable giant?

The easiest thing to make this roleplay go smoothly, is to have the players be from the Astra Militarium (Imperial Guardsmen) or other sectors of the Imperium of Man. This includes the Commissariat (disciplinarians and masters of morale), the Adeptus Mechanicus (stewards of knowledge, curators of machines, with a desire to strip away their own flesh), the various levels of the Holy Inquisition (study of heretics, alien species, ect), Priests, members of the space-faring Navy, or perhaps just a civilian that travels with an Imperial Guard Regiment to provide services to them. There are a lot of options, and they are not exclusively just soldiers or some sort of combat role.
Don't get too attatched to a character. People die in the grim-darkness of the far future. A lot.

I'll have the players start with their characters at a "junior" level of their respective chosen area. Guardsmen Privates, Cult Initiates (for the Adeptus), Junior Inquisitors, Assistant Commissars, and such on.
I will have my own "personal" character of sorts, but I will essentially control everyone that isn't a Player Character. That doesn't always have to be the case. If your character is elevated to a level of leadership (Sergeant, Commissar, ect) I'll give you the option to control the characters who would be under your characters command.

The description of the character does not have to be massively in-depth, and go over their entire life story. A respectable description of what they look like, their likes and dislikes, how they behave, and which part of the Imperium they belong to, and if you feel like it, a back-story, will be enough.
Even though it doesn't have to be written down, having a backstory thought upwould be nice, just in case somebody asks about it.

If you're want information of the lore of Warhammer 40,000, please just ask me, or look it up. You can find all of it online, in great detail about everything you would need to know.

I'll start the roleplay off when I have one or two players willing to join.
IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS, PLEASE JUST ASKS ME.

CHARACTER STATS.
I'm going to run a very simple stat-system that will be mostly used in combat.
A stat-score of 10 is competent. You're good at that, but nothing special. Every 2 stat-score above/ below 10 will give a modifier to your dice. ex. 8 Ballistic skill = -1 modifier. 20 Ballistic skill = +5 modifier.
All players have a standard level of 8 for their stats to start with.

Ballistic Skill: 0-20. Your skill with firearms and thrown weapons (includes grenades and such)
Weapon Skill: 0-20. Your skill with melee weaponry, includes fists.
Physical fitness: 0-20. Your characters over all strength and toughness. Used for physical exertion, or taking hits.
Dexterity: 0-20: How well your character moves.
Intelligence: 0-20. How smart your character is.

Your "class" so to speak, will have an effect on your starting stats.
Guardsmen have a +2 point bonus to everything except for intelligence.
Adeptus Mechanicus have an +8 point bonus to intelligence, +2 to Physical fitness, and a -2 to dexterity
Commissars have a +4 bonus to Weapon skill and Ballistic skill.
Inquisitor have a +4 bonus to intelligence, dexterity, with +2 weapon skill, with -2 physical fitness and ballistic skill.

Every player gets 5 stat points to assign wherever they want.
Imperial Navy workers and Civilians have no starting stat bonus, but they can assign 10 points instead. Their training doesn't leave them with better skills, only what they make themselves in to.

PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR STATS IN YOUR CHARACTER POST, SHOWING THE ORIGINAL AND IN BRACKETS BESIDE IT, HOW MANY POINTS YOU ASSIGNED TO EACH STAT.

After long combat times (in a war), or in a lot of training, points will be given, depending on what your character did. A lot of shooting, means they get better at that.

RULES

1. What I say goes, but if you think something is unfair, please do bring it up and we'll talk.
2. You control your character, and only your character. This is, unless I give you command of a group of NPC's.
3. Godmodding. I trust you people enough to not have to say anything more. Just don't do it. Your characters are human (or mostly human if you're Adeptus Mechanics) and they have human mortality.
4. Player Knowledge vs Character Knowledge: Your character only knows what they can hear, or are told. They don't magically have your eyes.
5. Character swearing. It's allowed, but there is no "fuck" in Warhammer 40k. The people use a different, but as flexible word to express their ire. It's also a different word, depending on where the character is from. Different cultures on different planets and such. The most common are...
- Feth. (Fething hell, oh feth, feth off!)
- Gak
- Frag
Hell, you can make up your own word if you want. Go for it. As for the other curse words, they're all fair game. Except racial slurs. In the grim-darkness of the far future, there is no racism (except against aliens.)
6. ACT LIKE JUNIORS. Your characters should not be hardened, just yet. Let what happens in the roleplay build your characters, and shape them. Let them be horrified.

7. FIGHTING IS DICE-BASED. Random chance (mixed with stats) will decide your fate.
(Thats all I can think of right now. I'm not that experienced with running threads, but I usually do them in a way that isn't too strict, unless something is blatantly against rules, or not right.)

Alessi Vendin
Imperial Guardswoman of His Holy armies.
22
Trooper Vendin is 5' 9" tall, with dirty blonde, shoulder length hair that she keeps all tied back in a pony-tail most of the time. Not a single stray hair should be allowed out of it's place. Her eyes are pale blue. She has slightly narrowed keen eyes, and an averagely sized nose. The shape of her mouth makes her neutral expression seem a bit like a frown. Before she joined the Guard, she had a body with feminine curves to it. All of the physical work has strengthened her body, dulling the curves in to an athletic shape. There's still the traces of her old self, found in D-cup breasts, and nice hips. She has a perpetual bruise between her collarbone and shoulder, caused by her powerful weapons stock kicking against her flesh. It only begins to fade after long periods of inaction.

"Every young lad or lass joining the guard is the exact same. Full of piss and fire, ready to take on the entire fething galaxy. We're all young and powerful, and we'll make our own legend. Feth the authority, their only job is to point us where to shoot!"
Alessi Vendin was your usual guard initiate, fitting perfectly to what she had said about them in her later years. She joined at the age of Eighteen, and was very aloof about everything. The training in the Guard changed her, not just physically. Mistakes were punished with beatings and punishment tasks. Nobody enjoys being beaten (except for some people) so after the first particular brutal punishment, she realized that mouthing off and being lazy would get her nothing but a shot in the head. She made a clear effort to be a clean-cut Guardswoman. Proper uniform, proper conduct, but still retaining the flexibility of action/ command interpretation that makes the Guard so special. She has a healthy fear of Commissars and the inquisition, and that much should be expected.
She tries to be friendly towards everyone, new initiates in particular. It's still fresh in her mind, how shocking being a Guardsman/woman can be, and how difficult it can be to meet up to the standards.

STATS
Ballistic Skill: 10 (+6)
Weapon Skill: 10 (+0)
Physical fitness: 10 (+0)
Dexterity: 10 (+0)
Intelligence: 8 (+0)

(READ THIS IF YOU WERE NOT PART OF THE FIRST VERSION OF THE THREAD)

+++ Incoming Vox-transmission from the Cargo ship Novictus +++
This is the Captain of the Novictus, requesting permission to enter the holding bay of Cadian 1085 Regiment ship.

Captain Nikoli Sarbander of the Cadian 1085, designated Forthcoming Wrath, leans back in his command throne with a groan. He opens his mouth to speak in a slow, lazy manner and says "Send them back a response. We will open the cargo doors and let them in." He locks his fingers together on his thin stomach and bends them inwards with several cracking noises.

The Novictus, a transport ship capable of carrying 2,000 men in it's cargo bay and billets, is dwarfed by the monstrosity that is the Forthcoming Wrath. The ship is designed in the gothic cathedral style of most of the Imperium's space faring vessels. It's seven and a half kilometers long, and half a kilometer high and deep. Every meter of it's surface is covered in plates or portholes for weapons, fighter discharge, or the main cargo bay door.
Docked and landed within the mighty troop ship, the Novictus opens it own bay doors, extending a ramp wide enough for 10 men to stand abreast on it. From the ship, steps out 500 men and women, all new conscripts, clad in their fresh battle uniforms, and carrying their 60 pound kits, and lasrifles in hand.

They are greeted by the Cadian 1085's leaders. Colonel Trechis, a noble man, and his Major Fevis who looks like he's skipped a few PT sessions, and all of the assorted Captains lined up beside them.
Colonel Trechis starts by introducing himself, and Major Fevis to the new Troopers. After he says "Welcome all, to the Cadian 1085 Regiment, light infantry. You ladies and ladies" he pauses to let the officers and troopers have a communal laugh "will be put assigned to Captain Dorin MkReveral." Trechis holds his hands together behind his back, nodding towards Captain MkReveral. "He will lead you to his companies billets, and there you will get settled. He will teach you how to live your life in our glorious regiment."
In unison, him and his officers salute the troopers assembled in the massive cargo bay. It's just a massive room, with cranes, and belts to offload cargo, and doors leading to the rest of the ships hallways. The fresh new Cadian's mirror the salute.
"Dismissed."

Captain MkReveral raises up his hand, waving. "Alright you newbloods, gather round, gather round!" He shouts at them to get over the noise of machines, work, and shuffling feet. "Follow me and don't get lost. And if you get lost, remember your guard training! Follow the Guardsman in front of you, even if he don't know where he's going. Chances are he's followin' someone who knows where they're going."
He leads them through the wide halls, up and many flights of stairs and through countless hallways. Forthcoming Wrath would seem a maze to anyone unacquainted with it's lay out. "Come on, come on!" he keeps saying, ordering the troopers to keep up. "We'll pass out data-slates of the map later, just worry about gettin' your sorry asses in to a bed for now."

They finally find themselves in a hallway, designated for MkReverals company. It has dozens of doors on each side of the hall, all leading off to bunk rooms. Every bunk room has twenty-five bunk beds in them. He stands at the middle of the hall, once everybody has piled in. The hall is wide enough for three people two stand abreast. "Alright, I'm going to call out yer' name and a number with a letter. That's where you're going to be bunking." He goes on to name off every new trooper, and assign them to a bunk room.
"Trooper Volaska, 11-B."


Back on the bridge, the Petty Captain informs Captain Sarbander about another ship that is due to arrive some time today. He looks at the designation and information about the ship. He growls out one word. "Inquisition..."

___________________________________________________________________

Kila nods, walking into the room. He shows no trace of emotion besides the half grin as he walks into 11-B. He takes a seat near a bed towards the back. He hesistates to sit on it, rather he sits beside it, watching all others who enter the room.



Seven other soldiers were in the room before him, sitting on their bunks doing different tasks. Cleaning weapons, putting them back together, folding clothes up, inspecting their kits and uniform. None of the people who were in the room before Kila had come with the 500 other new troopers.

Alessi Vendin reclines on her bunk, using two pillows as a back rest. One of her knees is up, with the other leg crosses over it. Her dirty blonde hair is loose. She's dressed in her fatigues, consisting of a fitting grey tank-top which she fills out, and a pair of baggy ocher-green pants with the belt loosely done up. In her hands, she holds a long scope and a vibro-cloth to polish it's lenses. When the men and women start filing in and picking bunks, Alessi sits up, crossing her legs on her top bunk. She watches them as they enter.
"Hi!" she says, peering over the edge at a small dark-haired trooper with olive skin.
"Oh, hello. Y-you don't mind if I take this?" she asks, gesturing at the bottom bed of Alessi's bunk. Alessi laughs at her awkwardness. "Not at all." She leans further over the edge, and hangs her torso upside down, extending a hand to the girl. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. "I'm Alessi Vendin." The girl takes her offered hand, giving a quick shake and a shy smile back. "Nessa Jiliin."

Alessi pulls herself back up from the edge with a huff, and rubbing the side of her head. Being upside down like that made her a little dizzy. "Don't worry. Everybody's just like you here, even the boys. It's always hardest meeting people for the first time."
She looks around the room, people picking their bunks and getting to know their bunkmates and neighbors. Most of the new troopers have stripped down from their full uniform, in to the much more comfortable fatigues.
Alessi looks to her left, at the man with black hair sitting on the floor. "Jeeesh, by the throne don't you look tired!" she exclaims, with a wide smile.



Kila's eyes flick over to glare at her, he narrows his eyes for a moment. His face takes on a sort of angry look, but he doesn't really answer her. His cheeks however, turn a bit red after this. He lays his head against the bed, facing away from her. He grabs the pillow, and shoves it on top of his head.



She cocks her head. "Did I say something wrong? Eh? Feth... Look, whats you're name? I'm Alessi." She resumes her cross legged seating on her bunk. Alessi picks her scope and cloth back up, polishing it again. She waits for him to look back. To her, he seems very shy, and in need of someone friendly. She had seen other troopers like this before, and suspected he wouldn't be the last to, she assumes, feel overwhelmed and shocked by everything. "You 'ought to get up on your bunk. They're softer than the metal floor... Barely" she gives a short laugh.



Kila turns, peeking out from beneath his pillow. He gently shifts the pillow, slowly putting it down. He climbs up onto the bed, then faces towards her. For a long while, he just stares, with his little raccoon face. Finally, he quietly says. "I'm Kila." His voice is slow, and nervous like he's afraid he'll say something as simple as that wrong. His blue eyes glance around at the other people, and he scoots against the wall, still looking towards Alessi.



"Well Kila! You need to relax. You're way too tense." She nods at him, and then puts the scope back in to her weapon case, locking it, and placing it on the shelf that's at level with her bunk. She then goes back to reclining on her bed, placing her hands on her flat stomach.
Everyone seems to be getting settled in their beds, and their kits packed away.

Kila's bunk suddenly shakes as somebody climbs up to the top bunk. If he looked at the foot-end of the bed, he would see a pair of large feet over the edge. The top bunk arches a bit inwards, as a great weight lays on the not-so-stable top. Alessi looks over at the noise the newcomer has made, and shakes her head while grinning. "Looks like your bunkmate is here."


Kila glances up, wondering who in all things holy could weigh that much and still be accepted. His eyes drift over to the large feet, where he begins to grin just a bit. Who knows why, but he seemed to brighten a tiny bit at this. He does however, scoot off the bunk and sit on the floor, just in case the top bunk fails, and crushes the bottom one. It'd be a shame to be a pancake while asleep.

He grumbles a tiny bit, leaning to see who it is on the top bunk.


A bald giant, hugely muscled and over 7ft tall, lay on the bunk. "Mhh. Hey newblood. Call me Fortess. Everybody does, even officers if they like the name enough."

Alessi chimes in saying "He's got all sorts of names, he does. He likes Fortress the most, but he'll also go by Boulder. "
Fortress nods. "My real name sounds too small." He snorts. "Feth what my parents were thinking when they named me Eustice. Didn't think I'd get this big probably."
"Yep, everyones favorite big dumb giant, is what he is." Alessi lays on her side, one hand against her head, and the other hand laying against her side and hip that's facing upwards.
"Dumb!" he scoffs, faking insult. "You hear her Kila? Calling me dumb! I'll tell you, when we did our intelligence testing, scored ten points lower than me, out of a hundred. Dumb blonde is more like it." He smiles wide. "Ill tell you, if you've heard any rumors about her, you'd be havin' some nicknames for Alessi."
She laughs. "And you know that they're just rumors." She twirls a lock of her blonde hair around her finger.


Kila whimpers a bit, not ready for this much interaction amongst others, all he is able to do is whimper out a "Oh." His eyes look at Fortress, the one person who intimidates him nearly as much as a woman. He tries to hide the anxiety, pretending to be really focused in setting up all of his gear. "W-Well, how did you do B-Boulder?" He stammers out, his face lighting up again.



"I did fine enough. Got bout 75 percent on the test... so 'bove average." He shrugs. "Alessi got... What was it again?"
Alessi pouts and crosses her arms against her breasts. She grumbles out "Fifty-five..." She smirks. "Atleast I can hit the feth-side of a barn unlike you!" Alessi beams proudly, pressing her arms tighter against herself. "Only a few people in the Regiment that can shoot better n' me. Scorin' up in the ninteys for sniper practice. And these dummies don't stay still, nor are they close!"
"Feh!" Fortress waves a hand at her dismissively. "Lasgun's are too small in me hands. Hitting the triggers are hard... I like my lascannon much better."



Kila shrinks away a bit, letting the two friends talk to each other. His longer fingers search the bag, pulling out random items and placing them around himself in a semi circle. He begins to take apart the smallest of the objects, working in sort of a pattern, going from smallest to biggest.



A tall, well-built man with black hair stands at the door of the bunk room. He clears his throat with a growl. "Yes, yes, welcome to all of our newbloods we've just received! I am your Sergeant, Jokaib Gunnar. Here in my wonderful squad, I will teach you how to live life!"
"Is that why I'm such a failure?" A man who looks nearly identical to Sergeant Gunner, except for having blonde hair, asks in a cheeky manner.
"No, Trooper Try Again, you were a failure before you came to me." He shakes his head, looking down and placing one hand on his chest, over his heart. "And it's my deepest apologies my grace couldn't help you."
"I know where you can stick your grace!" he quips back, the "veterans" of the squad giving a laugh.

"But back to business! Get some sleep you sorry bunch of soldiers. In the morning, you'll hit the showers, go to morning prayers, then meet back here and we'll talk about the boring stuff of being a guard."



+++ Outgoing Vox-transmission to the Exorsus +++
The Holy Inquisition vessel Exorsus has permission to enter the cargo hold.

The bay doors open for the third time this standard Imperial day. Before the inquisition ship arrived, the cargo ship that ferried the new guardsman in, had left. The passengers inside are greeted with much less fanfare than the other new arrivals, and is to be expected with the Inquisition.
Colonel Trechis's Adjutant, Adj. Kevok. He alone, greets the Inquisitors. "Welcome aboard." He holds up a data-slate. "This is for the Senior Inquisitor. It tells you which area you will be given for resting, working, planning... Ask one of the Forthcoming Wrath Officers if there is something else you will need." Kevok fidgits, clearly in a hurry to leave their presence.
"Thank you, Adj. Kevok." Head Inquisitor Callion takes the data-slate from the mans hands. "Try to relax, boy."
"U-uhm, ah, sorry Inquisitor, Sir... It's just, everyone I know and trust tells me to have a... healthy fear of the Inquisition."

Callion and his retinue walk off. Callion himself is cackling wildly as he passes Kevok. When he stops, he shouts back "The people you trust are wise!"



Reinigen soon follows Head Inquisitor Callion, the shade of his silly hat covering most of his face. His orange eyes are notable, however. After hearing Kevok's remark, he manages a small laugh to himself, trying to keep a professional aura around him. He tries to make his presence as fearful as possible, walking dramatically, but professionally, and having his coat flow. His nature of being a "Blank" also causes an aura of uncomfterableness around him.

"Hmph... so we've developed quite a reputation...." Reinigen says to himself, adjusting his spectacles as he takes mental calculations of the many areas of the ship. Soon, he and the other inquisitors find their way to their quarters. They have their own part of the ship, with quarters for sleeping, storage, and other areas of operation. Reinigen takes his own sleeping quarters, with two servitors following. "I don't care where you put the bags. I only need my books. Now, away with you both!" He exclaims, as the servtors drop a heavy case, and leave.

The Inquisitor proceeds to disrobe, removing all his decorations, as well as his overcoat, folding and assorting them neatly over his large book-case. He lays back on his bed, his messy hair flowing down his head. He continues to read his book; a controversial romance book that he took from the Hed Inquisitor's personal library, with his permission. "How disgusting..." he says, to himself, his firey eyes surveying the small words of the book.



Kila decides it's time to fall asleep, not bothering to join in with the card game.



After he's finished with his dry speech, Sergeant Gunnar walks to his bunk, shared with Trooper Try Again. He gives a short wave, before kneeling in front of his personal trunk and fishing out a small metal case, and a fold-out table, 2ft in it's radius. He sets it up as some of the soldiers get off their bunks to join him. When all gathered, five people sit around the table set up in the walkway of the bunks. Jokaib, Walin (Try Again), Alessi, Fortress, and another woman with very short brown hair, and a face that's perpetually frowning or concerned, named Viktoria Gloann. They all brought their trunks to sit on.
Jokaib opens the metal box. Cards. He pulls the deck out, shuffling it, then dealing the cards.
Fortress pulled out a fat cigar and lit it with an aqulia-stamped lighter. He takes a drag from it, blowing out the smoke, then offering it to Viktoria. She takes it and says "As the squads Corpsman, it's my job to tell me that these things'll kill you." The woman smirks, passing it to the next in line in the circle, Walin. They would pass the thing around, until it was gone.
"Well, war kills you." Alessi adds quietly.
There's words of agreement and solemn nods. All of the veterans have lost at least one friend. More often than not, dozens.



Garth emits various beeping noises as he communicates in binary with the Machine Spirits of the mighty vessel. Deep within the ship, the metallic repairman interrogates the Spirits. Asking for a full report on every single system that he has clearance for. When he finishes the conversations and has determined that the ship will continue to function for at least another Imperial Day, he starts towards the bunks of his squadmates. Being an Enginseer, he does not require 'sleep'. His body runs on a simple generator located near his heart that produces the required energy to sustain him. Nevertheless, Garth believes that if the vessel was ever to come under attack that his squadmates would require his help. For who else is strong enough, wise enough, and close enough to the Omnissiah to prevail where no mere guardsman can?



Garett makes his way through the walkway, trying to find something to keep himself occupied or at least someone to keep him company. Turning the corner he stumbles upon the few guardsmen gathered around the table with a deck of cards. He slowly approaches and leans himself against one of the walls with his arms crossed. He patiently observes the game smirkinly for a short while before heading over to the table himself after another game has been finished. "Good evening! Mind if I join you lot in yer game?" He asks, leaning over towards the table, slightly crouching himself to get on eye level with everyone else.



Gunnar eyes him while collecting the cards and shuffling the deck. The deck itself is huge with one-hundred playing cards, going up to a "20" value, with five copies of each. Some of the others at the table look over for a moment, then back to the table. Fortress seems too distracted by his cigar to take notice.
"Sure thing. What's your name?" The Sergeant slides over on his trunk, making room for the man to sit. "And I'm hoping y' know how to play 20 Inquisitors." He cracks his knuckles and starts dealing the cards out again, making another pile for Garett. Every one of the cards are richly designed on the front and back. Ranging from one, a junior inquisitor, all the way to twenty, which is an artistic rendition of the Master of the Inquisition himself. The cards are all in high quality, and show very little damage to their surface. "It was a wonder the man who created this game wasn't killed by the Inquisition eh? The whole idea was that an inquisitor higher in their hierarchy would beat out someone below them... But someone so far below them had some evil planning to put himself higher up on the rungs. Feh, listen to me goin' on about a card game."
He shrugs. "These here are my good friends Try Again, Fortress, Alessi Vendin an' Viktoria Gloann" he says pointing them out in turn.
"Friend?" asks Try Again. "That's what you call yer' own flesh an blood?"
"Fine. Royal-Pain-In-The-Arse is more like it."


Garth passes the men playing cards, he stops suddenly and backtracks. Standing towards the corner of the room he watches the guardsman describe the game. The Enginseer scans the area for Inquisitors. They can't touch him, being apart of the Adeptus Mechanicus, but that does not mean that the guardsmen are free from the Inquisition's grasp. As he watches, he also uses his MIU to monitor the ships status and the Machine Spirits' happiness.



Alessi looks at her hand, concerned. She was dealt a lot of low or high cards, and not much inbetween. She licks her lips, and touches her hand to her chin. "Any clue when we're getting deployed? Feth, even garrison duty would be better than this. I'm gettin' the Itch." She says, referring to a sort of condition soldiers get after they've seen combat, and then had to be away from it for a while. They feel an itch on their hands, and start feeling fidgity, eager to feel the adrenaline their bodies had got used to. To accentuate the point, Alessi scratches the back of her hand with one finger.
Try Again, sitting close to her on her right side prods the bruise between her collarbone and shoulder. "Yer' snipers mark is fading." He says. When he pokes the bruise, she winces. "Yeah. Daily target practice isn't as intense as fighting for days on end."
"I just hope the recruits are ready. I heard from the Cap'n who heard from the Major, who heard from the Colonel that we might be gettin' shipped out to some battle. Cultists popped up n' took a world." Jokaib rubs his chin, then puts down two cards at once. Just as it looks like Alessi can play multiple cards too, Fortress beats her to the punch, and plays a card, half the value of the last. "Oh feth it!" Alessi huffs, crossing her arms against her breasts. "This hand is shit."
"We're all dealt some shitty hands in our lives, at some point... You just get 'em more than others" taunts Viktoria. She's not exclusively talking about cards.



Garth blinks three times as he watches the game, his interest fading quickly. He connects through the MIU to the ships equipment logs, quickly scanning the list for a list of items with angry spirits. He nods to the group of soldiers as he stalks away without having said a word. When he would finally arrive in the armory he would go about the various rituals of cleansing required to appease the Omnissiah's underlings. He wastes no time moving from object to object as he repairs, cleans, or assembles various technology alongside two technomat servitors.



A lean man, with thinning brown hair stops his work. He was calibrating a weapons scope using fine tools in the armory, but he decided to watch the Mechanicus Priest as he hurried in and got to work without a word. He leans back in his chair, watching. "Always amazes me, seein' them work." he says to his fat-bellied comrade, who is taking stock of the weapons and munitions stored in the armory.
"You know," he says louder "I always thought about joining the cult. You know, make myself better at what I do, better understand the spirits I work with... Just couldn't stomach the idea of losing my body." He pats his chest.



Reinigen continues to read through the night. He's read through two books already about the certain types of cultists that have taken the planet. He's also finished a book on general information about the more.... interesting things about some of these cults. Ignel has spent quite a while studying these... habits.

He then steps out of his quarter, looking for more books about this cult in particular as well as looking for books about the planet itself, and it's inhabitants. He plans to finish reading these book by the end of the flight, so he's able to know more about the planet they're landing on.

He walks back to his quarters with his books, considering that there isn'tmuch noteworthy Inquisitors to talk to. Head Inquisitor Callion would be annoyed by him after having a long flight with little sleep, and the Sororitas women on-board are extremely female-independant, which annoys Rein, as well. Having no one else to talk to, he continues to read his books.



Having seated himself on the trunk after giving the other players his name, Edwin had been dealt a hand which he had been sitting on most of the game. Not because he couldn't play anything, but because with a little creative card playing he would have a great hand to work with. He had played the game a fair few times in the past. With his love for cards and dices, it became almost an art to him to play them correctly, and one such oppurtunities presented itself this time. "I don't really think you can ever get a bad hand, you know? 'Tis about playing the cards right." Edwin responds, a smile appearing on his face as one of the cards he needed is laid on top of the deck. He turns part of his concealed hand around, revealing what appears to be a pretty average but clearly well set up set of cards and then starts laying down all but one of the cards which he takes between his fingers saying "And this one to rule them all" as he lays an inquisitor half the value of the one he played on top of the deck. He scratches the bottom of his chin and leans himself on the table, observing the last few cards he has in his hand. "Nice deck ye have tho' " Edwin mentions giving a friendly nod in the direction of Jokaib "One of the better 'uns I've seen in a while."

"That she is" Jokaib agrees. "I picked it up a few months back, when we had a few weeks of leave after a war on Gangava Tertius. Ever heard of it?" He shrugs. "Doesn't matter."
While they're all distracted with the conversation, nobody has taken notice of Viktoria's crosses arms and smug grin. Her hands are empty. "Well boys and lady, I do believe I won this round." In one motion she stands up, and plucks the cigar from Boulder's mouth while he's looking at the pile. Viktoria rubs her eye with a hand, and takes the cigar for herself. "I've got mountains and mountains of paperwork from all the newbloods... It's best to help the other corpsmen as soon as possible... Get all this shit done." She sighs, and without another word, walks out of the bunkroom with her signature slumped, slow walk.

Alessi grinds her pinkies nail between two of her teeth. "Feth me. Well, I wasn't winnin' that hand anyway." Her face has a habit of looking cute when she's curious, confused or, as expected, happy. Right now she's confused.


___________________


Techpriest Garth responds to the man without looking away from his work, saying "Human trepidation over the loss of flesh is... understandable. Foolish, but fear is natural."
He works at a standstill, his body completely still save for his writhing mechadendrites, and precise metallic fingers. "I fear the loss of my light. The vanishing of the great spark in my mind, which shows me the worlds knowledge, and the spirits of machines. I fear not death, only if some unforeseeable occurrence takes the Omnissiah's light from me."

The two armory works bristle uncomfortably. They have seen techpriests before, and did not know them to show this much emotion in their words, or to ever be this philosophical. "I'm sure he'll never leave as long as you don't leave, it, just as the God-Emperor, bless him by the Throne of Terra, will not if you are faithful."
"Emperor protects." Comes back the monotonous reply of the techpriest.

"Well, that was... Unexpected" Edwin responds, laying his remaining hand down on the table. "Honestly didn't expect the lass to lay that down. But if we've got some cups about I could show you another lil' game I like to play." Edwin reaches for a small bag he carried with him, taking out a nicely decorated container. He opens the container and lays it's contents bare on the table. Several glass die now litter the surface, each one decorated with imperial iconography laid in with golden embelishments but showing heavy signs of use. "Anyone 'ere ever played liar's dice?" he asks, putting the container back in his bag and closing it. "Unless anyone wants to continue playing 20 inquisitors a'course."

There's a chorus of "no" and shaken heads.
Alessi leans back. "Good thing about newbloods is that they're from different worlds. Bring along all sorts of new things."
"Cups? Not sure if we've got any ready round here. They're all kept in mess." Gunnar rubs his chin.

"Ah, don't worry 'bout it" Edwin responds as he allocates the dice in little heaps of 5. "Using yer cupped hand should work fine. 'Tis the actual gamblers you want to use cups with, and really, they're just more fun to use." He hands out 5 dice to each player and leans forward towards the table, raising his arms to explain "So, 'tis actually really simple. We each roll our dice, keep 'em hidden and then estimate the amount of a certain die currently on the table. Then the first player calls a dice total, like 'four threes', meaning he thinks there's four dice currently hidden on the table."

Edwin looks around the table before he continues "Now, here's the interesting part. The next player can do either o' three things. Call a higher total value, like four threes, or two sixes. But, they can also call a 'spot on', basically saying that's the exact amount of the called dice on the table, OR they can call the person a liar, meaning the one to call the dice overestimated. In the last two cases everyone reveals their hand. Now, if the person was right to call a spot on or a liar, the person they called it on loses a die. But, if they're wrong, well, they lose one, simple as that. So, the last person to actually have any dice left is the winner." Edwin lowers his hands on the table, taking his dice in his right palm. "Questions?" He finally asks with a smirk on his face.

"No questions." Alessi says, shaking her head.

"Mh. How about we go a few practice rounds to figure this out?" Boulder folds his arms over his thick chest.

A grinding noise echoes through the entire ship as it's engines force themselves in to a maneuver it's not used it.
The vox crackles to life in the Guardsman area. Colonel Treches's clipped voice comes across.
+++ There is no problem. The ship is turning, and preparing to enter the Warp. Brace yourselves. +++

Not a moment later, the entire ship shudders and shakes, knocking over light objects not bolted down: such as the table that the small group is playing cards in. Everyone gets a sinking feeling in their stomach, an after effect of making a Warp-jump.
Some of the soldiers, with not as strong stomachs rush for trash bins or empty buckets so they can evacuate the insides of their stomachs.

Once the ship calms down, Alessi, gripping tightly on to a pole of her bunkbed says "I don't think we'll be playing for now. Can't be sure in the Warp that everything will stay still."

Having fallen down due to the sudden shock Edwin raises himself on his knees, sticking to the floor some longer to look for some of his dice which had been scattered around the room. "Seems like we'll have to continue this later." he responds with a smile on his face, seemingly unbothered by the sudden interruption of his game.
He continues to frantically scan the floor, picking up dice as he goes. "Oi, have any of you seen... The landing sites of my dice when they went flying, I'm missing two, which I'd rather not!"

He stands up to get a better view, but to no avail, the dice seem lost to him. "Oh feth, 'das a bummer. I really like those dice. At least I found these... Well, we'll have to have our lil' game later. Perhaps allows me to get back at the lass that beat us at 20 inquisitors, heh." he says while scratching his head, partly talking to himself.

As he mumbles to himself, the rest of the participants drag their trunks back to the bunks, and put the table away. Alessi lifts herself on to the top bed with a huff. She sits cross legged there, looking around for the missing die.

Alessi just shrugs to herself. "Good luck finding your die. Maybe the warp took them" she says, flopping back on her bed, head landing on the pillow. She stretches herself out, and starts to pull the sheets over herself.

Edwin shortly squats before giving in "Heh, what the warp gives it takes. Bet it'll turn up sometime."
He walks over to his own bunk and lays in his bed, playing a bit with his dice before allowing his eyes to close. He would find the die sometime, but it mattered not in a field of battle. For all he cared, he'd have some time to play parlor games by other means.

Edwin's continued talking is met by silence in the bunk room. Everyone is, or is trying to get to sleep and rest themselves for tomorrow. The new soldiers in the bunk room wonder what awaits them in the daily life of an Imperial Guardsman.


And their days do start early, with the wake-up calls starting sometime between 0400 and 0500 hours. The Sargent's in the bunk rooms with a high number of new soldiers in it are eager to give them a very loud wake-up call, just to spook them a little bit. Most people do enjoy poking fun and bugging them, but keeping it friendly. For the most part.

Sargent Gunnar gives a satisfied sigh, looking down the length of the bunk room from the door. He steps inside and closes the door behind himself. Gunnar holds an iron pot in one hand, and a ladel in the other. He bangs the ladel against the inside of the pot repedadly, filling the bunk room with cacophonous bangs and clanks. He slowly marches down the walkway, making sure everyone recieves his rude awakening. When he gets close to the center he shouts over the metal-on-metal bangs "Everyone grab yer' socks and hands off your bunk-mates cocks! It's morning for our most glorious army, at the merciful hour of 0400! Get up you lazy lumps!" He laughs, and continues the aural assault on his squad until they all get up from their beds groaning.

Edwin too wakes up to the bellowing sound of the Sargents voice. It doesn't take him long to lift himself from the bed and get on his feet. The dice he had used before going to sleep were still clenched in the palm of his hand, but aside from adjusting his collar and sleeves which had folded themselves over the night, little else seems out of the ordinary. He checks his armaments once more before putting them back safely and waiting in the bunk, playing with two of the dice in his hand by having them make circles.

The machine spirits in his lasgun had not been in his favor however the last time he made use of it. This concerned Edwin, and as such he looked after the maintainence of it carefully, making sure not to upset the machine spirits inside any further. After all, those managing to break their equipment could meet an instrument many times more blessed by the mechanicus and handled by the most zealous of the Emperor's men aimed at their cranium.

Gunnar drops his pot to the floor with another loud clank. "You know the drill, clean up your kits and get ready for inspection!"

Gunnar leaves his soldiers in the bunk room to their tasks. The eager new recruits get to organizing their kit trunks with all haste; very much in contrast to the soldiers with more experience who understand all the corners they can cut, and along with their experience with this, they can take it slowly.

Alessi sits on her trunk, waiting for the inspection to start. She already had much of her kit organized already and she had time to spare.

It doesn't take Edwin long either to get everything organised. Much of it was already up to standard, so he really doesn't need much time to change the few things that seem off.

He waits patiently for the inspection, amusing himself with a deck of cards he carried with him, doing nothing in particuliar but play a few hands against himself with no goal in particuliar.

Sargent Gunnar returns at the appointed time, with a much more frightening figure in tow. More often than not, kit inspections are handled entirely by the squad Sergent's. However for this day, it was decided that the discipline and punishment officers should perform the inspection.

As the tall middle-aged Commissar slowly stalks down the bunk hall, inspecting every soldier, and their kits, before moving on to the next. By the time he reaches the end of the hall, any kit he found with the littlest thing out of place has been lifted up, and emptied out on to the floor.

Nearly 70% of the squad that is, has to re-do their entire kit.

Having heard all the commotion and omniously approaching footsteps, Edwin had quickly stored away his pack of cards. Whatever it was, by the sounds of it it didn't sound like a normal inspection. It sounded all too hectic for that. Knowing the job he would normally do on his kit was a rather poor one overall, just having everything be as good as it would have to be in order to pass the inspection, his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. He opened his kit once more and fixed a few things real quick in order to make it appear somewhat up to standard. At least, more than it was before.

It didn't seem like the inspection was to be handled by the Sargeant as it normally would, and thus, as the footsteps approached Edwin took a quick peek outside, spotting a commissar getting out of the previous bunk. Edwin quickly slips back inside, strangely enjoying the slight thrill of the situation and then stands at attention before the commissar comes in for the inspection. With his heartbeat having a slight increase in tempo Edwin remains without motion. Saying very little, the commissar inspects Edwin's kit. Raising a few eyebrows at it in suspicion and clearly objecting to the way it was handled. The piercing gaze he gives Edwin, one that very few aside from commissars are known to have, seem suspicious and while looking disapprovingly at Edwin, the commissar turns over the kit, it's contents scattered over the floor for Edwin to re-organise. He then makes a half-turn and walks out again, his cold demeanor having changed little. Edwin gives a sigh of relief, his heart still pounding but glad that the only punishment was that of redoing the kit.