Fellowship of the Dice

Haxtes takes a sip from his nutrient fluid bottle and looks out at the city, pondering. Then, silently, he arranges his equipment and is ready to disembark.

Damien studies the city out the lighter's window. "Interesting architecture. I'm always fascinated how each world differs in how cities are built. How a city sub-divides itself, where the rich live, what counts as a dwelling. Humanity is an interesting species, different in so many ways, yet united by the Imperium into something greater."

Your ship comes to a landing pad, and quickly a bunch of workers are at the lighter. They help get the ramp down, start refueling it, and do other maintenance things. As the ramp behind you opens yo are struck by two things. The first is the smell of promethium fuel heavy in the air, the second is the bone chilling air itself. Iceholm isn't just a fancy name, its accurate. You are at once cold, and come to the realization you are not properly attired for long durations outside here. The Baron steps down off the ramp, inhales deeply, and smiles, "Home!"

He motions for you to follow as his breath becomes instant fog before him. He marches across the platform, as the workers spray de-icer on the wings of the ship. He is heading for a doorway on the far side.

Haxtes seems unfazed by the cold and he walks along to follow Ulbrexis.

Damien pulls his robes tighter around him, waddling at a fast pace after the Baron. He pulls out an extra set of robes from his pack, and wraps it around his head and shoulders like a scarf, trying to keep his face from freezing off.

Lucius stamps forward, shaking off the cold by doing so. He's a tough guy, but he's unlikely to ever truly get used to this temperature. His previous postings were usually indoors, in crowded, but atmo-controlled environments.

You follow the Baron, he meets his contact, another Noble of the city, and the two speak like old friends. You are introduced to Baron Harcourt. He is a short man, terribly short, with a round belly making him appear very much like a ball. He is dressed for the weather, but you can see he wears a decorative lasgun on his belt, and a long powdered wig. "Greetings Baron Ulbrexis, so the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated after all. Ahahahaha." A small trio of sycophants behind him laugh at his unfunny joke.

He barely bothers to introduce himself to you four, then he leads the Baron back to his estate. Its a short walk, and the two Baron's talk of old times, of families and politics and other various items of little real worth. You are brought to his estate, and taken to quarters that are suitable for the baron's guests, but Ulbrexis is put apart from you. About and hour later, the armed estate guards come for you to bring you to dinner.

Dinner is held in a richly appointed hall, the wealth of which if sold would feed a 1000 serfs in the Harrow for a year. You find both Barons already there, talking and debating the merits of everything relevant to your situation here. Ulbrexis looks up, "Oh my find companions, come and sit, enjoy the meal and let's talk." Dinner has wine, real wine, and meats and cheese, and fresh grown vegetables -- rare here in the cold lands of Iceholm.


Baron Aldebard Harcourt

Damien almost always prefers the diplomatic route, over going straight to violence. There are certain situations where that would get one killed, of course. Daemons and Orks come to mind. But in this decadent and genteel environment, he is just fine with chatting it up over fine food and drink. Happy, even. Developing allies doesn't always have to be via fighting off a zombie horde. For now, he takes a seat and moves a reasonable amount of food onto his plate.

"A pleasure, Baron Harcourt. Many thanks for your hospitality." He lifts his glass in a small toast, then sips the wine.

Haxtes sits there, content to sip on some drinks. Later, he will find some food and puree it so he can add some of the nutrient powder he is carrying with him and sip it with his straw through the grille in his breathing device. He does not say much, since he knows social encounters are not his area of expertise. He observes, though and tries to find out if this place has some sort of information network he could access.

"The pleasure is all mine. Any companions of the Baron Returned are welcome in my home. Tell me, Ulberxis wasn't too forth coming, how did you come to be in his service?" The Baron Harcourt drinks wine with a bit of rush, unconcerned about being to polite in his own home.