Not So Basic Training: Shattered Hopes

[TetNak]

Ishmael lets the others rant about their love for the God-Emperor. The former Hive member is less than feverish, perhaps, but goes along with the others. He knows if they do not succeed either they will be killed here, or they will be seen as unfit and tossed aside.

"We should find the Commissar and find out about the mine," the middle-aged man says to the others.

[eldritchknight]

Cambria marches grimly forward alongside the Priest of the God-Emperor, eyes alit with the fires of her fervent heart. She clutches her laspistol in her hand, her eyes darting about, searching for heresy even here, in the heart of the Emperor's might. For if her long years rooting out heresy on her home ship had taught her that heresy could be anywhere. Her eyes glanced briefly at the Priest.

I wonder, she thinks to herself. Does your fervor to the God-Emperor mask a loyalty to another? Do you hide heresy with a facade of fervor?

She smiles to herself. Even the Priesthood is not immune to the purifying fire of the Inquisition.

[Trogdor]

"Yes," Jericus says, turning away from Iorgo to face Ishmael. "And I'd guess that's the best place to start looking." He points his staff at the hab-block with the eagle symbol of the Imperium.

[Vardaen]

Having landed on this rock, the Acolytes begin to look around at the grim faced Imperial Soliders. The soliders are looking right back, men and woman, some wounded some not, watch the Acolytes of the Inquisition arrive in the middle of their camp.

Scrutiny Skill Roll

Alright. First Skill Roll here.


Scrutiny/Perception, Easy +20

EXAMPLE
For example, Cimbria has a 30 Perception (and the Scrutiny Skill) and with the bonus, she needs to roll a 50 or less. Mir, on the other hand, has a 28 Perception. He doesn't have the Scrutiny skill, so he ordinarily would have to roll a 14 or less, which is half his Perception. Since this is an easy task, he gets a +20 bonus, so he now needs a 34 or lower on the roll (14 + 20 = 34).

Cimbria 4 vs 50 = Success
Xanthia 33 vs 34 = Success
Mir 67 vs 34 = Failure
Iorgo 23 vs 37 = Success
Jericus 74 vs 40 = Failure
Ishmael 27 vs 34 = Success

Everyone except for the feral Mir and the studious Jericus can sense the feeling of dread coming out of the Guardsman. Those too are far too accustomed to their polar worlds, this place is just alien enough for them to be unable to get an easy read. For the others there is an overwhelming look of doom on the faces of the men and woman, and even the arrival of the Inquisition doesn't lighten their spirits. Clearly these are men and woman who have seen the depths of some darkness, and the light of Hope the God-Emperor gives has been extingusihed in them.

Guardsmen

[TetNak]

"They are scared," Ishmael says simply, walking past the guardsmen toward the hab-block Jericus has pointed out. "They have seen something in the depths of this place," he says aloud, pondering. "We should be careful to know what they have seen, even though the Commissar may say different." He does not wait for the others, striding forward with purpose.

[Trogdor]

Jericus gives the surrounding guardsmen another look, but finds they look no different to him than any other soldiers. Perhaps I have spent too much time studying papers, he thinks, and not enough studying people. But as there is nothing he can do about it now, he simply shakes his head and begins walking alongside Ishmael.

"I agree," he says. "We should pay attention as much to what is not said to us as what is actually said."

[EvilMonkey]

Xanthia puts it very simply when she says; "I dont like this. Something is very wrong here if it has scared even the soldiers." but she swallows her fears and walks with the other acolytes following them very closely. Her hand never straying from the hilt of her sword. It is very plain too see that this is not her idea of an ideal first mission.

[MadVlat]

Mir remains relatively silent as he walks towards the hab-block. Resenting his conscription by the emperor and his minions. As the surrounding soldiers look upon the new arrivals. The outworlder shows no emotion, his secret hatred remaining pent up inside. Briefly he studies the terrain and surroundings and sees that which he has seen everywhere the imperium has claimed. Desolation, pain, and emptiness. "Hmmmf", he straightens the axe at his side and reseats the las rifle slung across his shoulder. Then follows the rest of his unit forward...

[Vardaen]

The group speaks as they begin the walk to the prefab hab-block some fifteen walk away from their current location. Traversing the open ground and the camp the group spots a young Guardsmans runnign toward them. A raw recruit no doubt by his age, he runs right up to the lead of the group.

The moment he arrives, he comes to an abrupt stop, stoops over, hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. After a moment, he looks up and smiles. He's a young man, just turned eighteen. He has bright red hair that pokes out from under his helmet, pale freckled skin, and youthful features. He says, 'œSirs'¦ Ladies'¦ huh'¦ welcome to the Gorgonid Mines! Yer here to help'¦ I just knew it'¦.' He pauses to take another breath. 'œI tole'd 'em all ye'd be coming'€"So, which one of you is the Inquisitor? Want to see the Commissar'¦?'

Before anyone has a chance to respond a gruff voice sounds out, 'œJurtz! You leave your post again?' The owner of the voice is a compact, square-jawed ugly man, exiting a new by tent, his head shaved and with a dark blue tattoo right on his scalp. He's wearing the grey fatigues of all the Guards, but the stripes on his sleeve indicate he's a person of rank. Where his right arm used to be is now a stump on which a large metal rod with a disturbing array of attachments at the end emerges. Jurtz stammers, turns red all the way up to his ears and looks at his feet, mumbling, 'œNo, Sergeant Raynard. I'm just heading back now, sir'.

Sergeant Raynard fixes the junior Guardsman with a stare and then turns toward the Acolytes. One of his eyes is ice blue, cold and staring. The other is a crude false eye, made of wood and wandering off to the left. 'œSee that you do. Double time. Now, you. You're a sorry bunch, aren't you? Who're you supposed to be? Not the Inquisitor I'll warrant. Well?Speak up? I won't have a commotion in my camp.' The young Guardsman begins to skulk slowly walking away, back the way he came.

OOC

A note: The Sergeant's Rank here in the camp would premit such attitude toward you without any real breach of equitette

[TetNak]

Ishmael stops, looks between the young man and the seargent, then speaks up in response. "And be lucky we are not the Inquisitor, for to speak to he like that would not be wise for your health, that much is obvious." His eyes lock onto Raynard, then shrugs, "We have been sent by the Lord Inquisitor Anton Zerbe to investigate the disturbances to the stability of the Imperium here on this planet." He points to the slinking guardsmen, "You, tell us what you know of what is occurring here."