In Rogue Trader, you can explore the universe of Warhammer 40,000 like never before. Vast fortunes await on the edges of the galaxy, if you and your fellow Explorers can muster the courage to find and claim them. Renown and riches reward the bold, but the unwary find only anonymous deaths. A Rogue Trader who can wrest profits from a dangerous universe through luck, cunning, or sheer force of will enjoys something few humans in the 41st Millennium even know '€" a life of adventure and true freedom.Run by the Rogue Trader Grimbold
The Warp. An endless deep sea of raw energy, full of chaos. Strange things live within the immaterium, most of them inconceivable for human minds. Only the navigators can look into the warp and stay - relatively - sane. Only the ship's Gellar fields prevent everyone on the ship becoming instantly insane. And it also keeps out ... things.
Then the navigator gives the signal and the enginseers who are in charge of the warp drive go to work. The ship shudders and groans as it shifts back into realspace. Some of the crew make the sign of the aquila to thank the emperor for a safe arrival. The Sabre is back.
Scores of Auspex operators identify known stars and systems and promptly establish the ship's location. It is on the outer rim of the Rubycon II system, and the location of the legendary space station of Port Wander.
Slowly, the Sabre's Jovian II drives come to life and they start pushing the Sabre's six million tons of mass to move towards the station. Even with the powerful drives, it will take a few days before the ship can dock at Port Wander.
The Lord-Captain sits on his throne on the bridge and the most important officers are also present, as well as some communication officers and other staff. Half a dozen armed guards are ready to deal with threats.
Welcome to RT. Happy to have you all here. You are all on the bridge. Please post a good description of your character and do some RPing. Soon, I will fastforward you to Port Wander. Enjoy!
Last edited by Grimbold on Thu Mar 25, 2010 12:40 am, edited 1 time in total.
The Rogue Trader sits in his chair overlooking all his crew's activities. When the navigators bring the Sabre out of the Warp, Sarvus Trask looks upon realspace with a sense of satisfaction.
"Navigator," he starts, "Port Wander."
His order is followed and the frigate begins its journey to port.
"Let's be quick about it. Keep an eye out, just the same, don't want no trouble this close to home."
Trask leans back in his chair, watching realspace silently as they move slowly forward.
"Kings have no friends, only subjects and enemies."
A few moments after the ship returns to normal space, the door to the Navigator's Well opens and the Navigator himself enters the bridge. Aleksander Benetek is of unassuming stature, slightly shorter than average, and slim in build. His jet black hair is cut short in a cut similar to those sported by senior military officers. And his general appearance is not unattractive. He is dressed all in the black of space, from his soft black leather boots, to his simple black trousers, to the high-collared black shirt. The only adornment he wears is a silver pin on one collar marking him a member of the Navigator's Guild, and a matching pin on the other collar marking him as a member of House Benetek.
But none of this is what marks him as what he is - one who possesses the Navigator gene that allows him to bring the ship safely through the dangers of the Warp. The tangible marks of his profession are in his eyes - the two eyes in normal position, as black as the clothes he wears, with no hint of white, and the small third eye set in the middle of his forehead. Crew members argue over whether that eye is also jet black. Thankfully it's a question no one has learned the answer to yet, since it's been said that the sight of a Navigator's Warp eye can drive men mad.
"We're safely back at Rubycon II, sir," he says, looking up at the captain in his throne. "It was a relatively uneventful passage." he adds. "We were most fortunate."
"Straighten up those lines soldier!" The barking voice of Lorayne Thornhallow rings out ont eh bridge like fingers on a chalkboard. She is coarse, brash, and a crack-shot with the Locke-pattern Bolt Gun that she holds in her right hand.
Heavy boots clang against the decking of the bridge as she crosses infront of the Rogue Trader toward one of the guards stationed there. Her black suit of Enforcer's Light Carapace hugs her ample form like a lover. A bolt casing charm dangles from around her neck as her short cape flaps in the wind her movement makes.
She strides across the bridge and lifts her boot into the air and kicks the soldier square in the groin. The man is flung backwards as he doubles over in agonzing pain. The cocking of her bolt gun cuts through the stunned silence. Aiming down at the guard she spits as she talks, "You pathetic excuse for a soldier! I said straighten up that line! Do you think that means stand there slouching!" She takes a beed on the man's head, the laser sight dot holding steady right over forehead. "This is the main bridge worm! If you can't handle coming out warp then you don't deserve this posting!"
Her finger iches to fire on the man. Instead she kneels down, driving her knee into the man's groin again just as he was starting to recover from the first kick. Eyes now watering, face red, the man sputters out and applogy. "Not good enough." Ripping the man's rank off his shoulders she stands up, all her weight on that one point. "Get out of here and report to the skullery, the only action you will see now is scrubbign pots and pans!"
Lorayne galances at the other men, none of them react as the downed guardsman crawls away whimpering in tears. Then stalking back across the bridge she tosses the patches at a nearby ensign. "Do something with these for me." She finishes her stroll to stop right next to the Rogue Trader, a smile of satisfaction on her attractive face.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
Brother Ardus Helum walks amongst the decks of men, from one section to another. The dark and unforgiving niches of the Sabre are where the flocks of the God-Emperor himself need the most direction. As he makes his way from the cargo holds to the gun stations, Ardus makes the sign of the Aquila, nodding and speaking kind words of encouagement as he goes. "Good job, men", "Lord Captain Trask will here of your dedication!", "Remeber, those faithful in the Golden Throne will be rewarded..." Even the silent men of the gun batteries receive smiles, kind words and a reassuring hand on their shoulders. Ardus loves his work, for these are his men, his flock. And he would do anything for them.
As he walks the decks, his chainsword sways on his hips. The OD Green of the blade housing giving it away as an Imperial Guard issue, albeit a good quality a serviceable weapon. For now, his flamer hangs in his quarters, hungrily waiting the chance to smote the enemies of Man. In his hand, Ardus holds a small book. If one were to look closely, they would see a copy of the Infanrtyman's Uplifting Primer, bookmarked with a pair of dogtags. The edges are stained a dull brown, the color of dried blood. It isn't too far from his hands at any given time, a constant companion on Ardus' journeys. So far, none have had the stomach to ask the man where it came from and he has not offered.
The shift to realspace if felt, even in the lower decks by the Missionary and signals his return to the Bridge. Ardus starts his way back towards his quaters to fetch the flamer, not knowing how far they are from Port. But readiness is always neccesary, and Ardus' combat boots echo on the deck plating as he walks off...
Holy Throne, don't let me get on the bad side of Lorayne!!!!! 8O
If anyone wants to know what I look like, the picture is with the character sheet.
I am the voice of Never Never Land, the innocence of every man, I am the empty crib of Peter Pan. A silent kite against the blue, blue sky, every chimney every moonlit sight. I am the story that will read you real, every memory that you hold dear...
"Now that we have some peace and quiet again," Nathin Tsanthos steps out of the shadows and throws a quick glance at Lorayne, "I must say: most excellent, Aleksander! We are very glad that the Lord-Captain, in his wisdom, made you navigator of the Sabre. But then again, she probably knew her way here all alone." Nathin smiles.
The Rogue Trader's Seneschal is a man of medium height, and a bit on the stout side. But you also can see his muscles bulging through the synskin beneath his uniform. You rarely see Nathin without one of his data-slates or his auto quill, always ready to retrieve information or make notes when necessary. Nathin Tsanthos is all the Lord-Captain's man. A special kind of admiration seems to form a strong bond to the Rogue Trader. And if it were not for the Captain, Nathin would like to be here for the ship - many crew members notice the strange kind of affection he seems to have for this vessel. The Seneschal is also the mediator and troubleshooter on the ship. Whenever there are major problems not related to military or spiritual issues, he will be addressed or at least informed by one of his tech priests. And he will immediately see to it that those troubles are eliminated and that the Captain is only bothered if necessary.
When Ardus passes Nathin on the way to the doors, the Seneschal addresses him quietly: "Come back soon, Ardus. I think the Captain wants us close." Most crew members wonder how two men so different in kind and nature can get along so well.
"You need anything, now that we are back in realspace, Lord-Captain, Sir?"
Brother Ardus nods to the Seneschal, "Of course, Nathin. I will be there shortly, I would not keep the Lord Captain waiting. I was just finishing tending to my flock." Not many would understand the Missionary's devotion to the men of the ship, but Nathin would. Where he keps the Machine-Spirits placated and tended, so Ardus does to the crew of flesh and blood. Both together run the ship and cannot live without one or the other. From that symbiotic relationship a friendship has grown and nurtured. Th young man smiles and makes the sign of the Aquila to Nathin as he passes.
Eventually he finds his way to the bridge, his flamer now slung over his shoulder, complementing the chainsword in a grisly manner. Making the sign of the Aquila to the deck officers, only after doing so to the Lord Captain first, Ardus speaks when is his turn. "The Golden Throne of Terra blesses us even this far from Holy Terra. As I have sais before, Lord Captain Trask, the God-Emperor has a purpose for the Sabre and her crew. One that even I cannot divine, but is surely greater than any can imagine. The men's spirits are high, my Lord, and as always are ready to serve you." The Missionary gently touches a brass panel, the cogitors gently humming the metal. He shares the same affection for the Sabre as they all do. One that is given freely, especially after Trask plucked him from the Void.
I am the voice of Never Never Land, the innocence of every man, I am the empty crib of Peter Pan. A silent kite against the blue, blue sky, every chimney every moonlit sight. I am the story that will read you real, every memory that you hold dear...
The Rogue Trader looks over his crew gathered here. His most trusted now amongst him.
Sarvus Trask is a rugged, and yet fiercely handsome fellow. His words are like honey in the mouth of the starving. These things, combined with the power of his ship, gets the Captain nearly everything he wants.
The Rogue Trader idly strokes his van dyke as he speaks.
"Good," he just says in general, looking over at the Arch-Militant after her berating the soldier. She may be taciturn, but she gets the job done, he does not say anything in response to her discipline.
"Why, yes, Nathin," the Lord-Captain says to his Seneschal. "Make sure the freight is ready to be sold. I want a buyer within the day of making port. We will need to refuel as well."
The Lord-Captain pauses, "I do not intend to stay in port long."
"Kings have no friends, only subjects and enemies."
Aleksander nods to the captain. "I'll make certain the course is correctly plotted to Port Wander, sir." Then he turns and walks over to the bridge's navigation bay. There were lesser officers there, already plotting the course from the moment they exited the Warp. But as the ship's Navigator, he took it as a point of pride to make certain that the calculations were correct.
Many Navigators left the stellar navigation to their underlings, reserving themselves only for the task of navigating through the Warp. And being the only one on the ship who could perform that dangerous task, they mostly got away with it. Navigators were typically indulged in their idiosyncrasies. But Aleksander took his job more seriously - his entire job. Whether it was through the Warp or through normal space, he was determined to put every effort into making the navigation perfect.
"Initial vector is confirmed," he calls out after quickly reviewing the preliminary calculations, "and has been forwarded to the helm. The final course will be plotted by shift's end."
It says that simple locations take 1 minute and plotting courses takes 1d5 hours. I'm guessing that means we can give a ballpark course plot quickly, but that the real deal takes time.
Last edited by Trogdor on Thu Mar 25, 2010 9:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
