Did we forget to mention....

I mentioned in the previous post about the "new crew" that there might be a couple more to add to the list. Observant readers will have noticed one of these popping up in the latest session write up, so here's a bit more detail about our resident Adeptus Astartes:

• Brother Lycastus - A Tactical Marine and Battle Brother of the Salamanders Chapter. Lycastus is a Flamer specialist who has served his chapter for many years. A veteran of Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade, Lycastus is used to working with a variety of assets and units but seems to chafe a little over House Baccharus' open association with Xenos. Exactly why he, and he alone, travels with the Rogue Trader is veiled in mystery but it may be connected to the single finger of a power glove that he carries with him...

Uninvited Garden Party Guests - Session #1 (#22)

This was the first proper session of our new Wrath and Glory campaign but is a sequel, and spiritual successor to our old Rogue Trader game.

We took things slowly as there was much to introduce and, as everyone was beginning to get to learn their characters and define their relationships, there was a lot of character based conversations that I have not captured.

Darien Erronius is now the patron of the party (or "warband" in the parlance of Wrath & Glory) and has summoned them, along with a number of key crew and significant servants of the House, to a function in a small arboretum on the top deck of the ship...

In a rare public appearance Lord Captain Darien addressed his guests, showing some of the eccentric behaviours that he has become famous for. During his speech he reveals the surprise that the crew has rumoured he is planned; the Emperor's Bounty is heading towards a giant effigy of the head of the Emperor of mankind! A giant stone head that is somehow floating in space!

Darien explains that he plans to send the PCs onto the "head" to discover exactly what it is.

However as they draw closer the head's "mouth" opens, spewing forth bright green energy that engulfs the ship, drawing it more rapidly towards the gaping maw.

Before the warband has a chance to really evaluate what is happening the arboretum locks down and out of the light, bursting through the vista panels overhead, come a horde of Ork boyz!

A mob of orks engage the heroes and they respond swiftly. Tyrest acts first calling upon the Rite of Fear to disconcert some of their foes while Lycastus, a Tactical Marine of the Salamander chapter, lets loose with his flamer, torching a group of Orks with a single sweep.

The Orks retaliate, shooting Lycastus and Ecthelion, the Aeldari Ranger, while a pair of boyz who weren't scared engage the tech-priest in close combat.

Ecthelion fires back, Artemis the bounty hunter and Illiyan the Aeldari Warlock charge into close combat. Simultaneously the Warlock summons his psychic powers to Compel a group of Orks to back away, which they do. However his power use causes a backlash, a hideous stench seems from the Warp that sickens everyone around.

The Warband fares better than the Orks though and by the end of the combat round only a third of the mob remains standing.

Fioncail and the Wise-but-dangerous-fool

Fioncail was one of the finest of us.  A dedicated servant of the Eldar people both in life and beyond. He walked the Path of the Seer for many days but sorrow had long walked beside him. The grief he felt for the lost was founded in great compassion towards those who had passed beyond physical life. So it was that he was drawn to walk the path of the Spiritseer, crossing the bridge between life and death.

Some said that Fioncail had not fully hardened his own soul against the danger of becoming too enthralled by his command over the dead and thus was on the verge of using his knowledge for darker deeds.  Others say that his loss was so great that he simply found greater comfort in the company of souls than the living. Whatever the true reasoning, whether to punish him as an outcast or simply to fulfil his desire for solitude the Spiritseer was charged with a great task.

Away from the travel routes of the younger races lay a barren, airless world. Upon that world an ancient enemy had laid deadly secrets which we could not leave unguarded. However, for fear of corruption, or eventual physical failing, it had been determined by Seer Council of Craftworld Kaelor that the world would not be protected by the living, but by Wraithguard. Thereby, even in death, they might provide eternal protection from the evils contained in that place.

Thus was Fioncail sent in a Ghostship to orbit that place, tending to the souls there and giving them solace while we believe he too found the exile he sought.

That was, of course, until the arrival of the Mon-keigh.

The first to come were raiders, servants of the Ruinous Powers and beast-like in their savagery and passions. How they found the place Fioncail did not know but he knew his duty and commanded his ship to engage them in battle.  No sooner had he done so but another Mon-keigh vessel entered the fray.

This was a somewhat larger ship of the kind used by the worshippers of their machine-god and as soon as it had translated from the warp it discharged weapons upon Fioncail's vessel. The Spiritseer was faced with a battle on two fronts but he knew the cost was he to fail.

Engaging all the foes before him the Spiritseer struck valiantly with all the powers at his disposal but it was ultimately of no use.  While he did cripple a second of the Chaotic ships, the later arrival, a vessel we would come to learn was owned an operated by the fickle Mon-keigh privateers known to them as "Rogue Traders", breached the hull of the Ghostship and boarded it. The pirates ransacked through the ship, tearing and despoiling as if they too were worshippers of the Chaos powers. They were led by one of the warrior-freaks that often act as their vanguard; an "As-tar-tes". They committed such sacrilege, and gave so many final deaths to Souls within the ship's Infinity Matrix, that the laments and sorrows on Kaelor when hearing of the news lasted for many, many cycles. 

Eventually the raiders fled to count their loses, the Ghostship was crippled and the Rogue Trader remained, victorious more by fortune than by skill. Fioncail was trapped, sealed as a prisoner within his own ship.  The pirates retreated but it wasn't long before the Spiritseer detected new emissaries approaching from the Mon-keigh cruiser.  This time they were salvage crews come to tear what little remained of the cruiser apart for their own aims and careless of the souls aboard. With a heavy heart, almost broken in grief and outrage at the conduct of these barbarians Fioncail took as many souls as he could and escaped, heading to the planet surface.

Once there he discovered that the Rogue Trader had not been idle. Not only had crews been sent to ransack the remains of the Ghostship but they had also been sent to the planet itself, straight to the complex he was tasked to protect.

Thankfully the eternal Wraithguard had not shirked in their duties and were already engaged with the invaders. The battle was looking lost until Fioncail arrived, lending his powers to the ghost warriors and turning the tide. He must have seemed a fearsome sight to the Mon-keigh, standing before them, arms aloft, psychic energies arcing through the air around him, charged by his grief to become wrath personified.

The barbarians were falling before him.  They were laid low by his power and by the anger and vengeance within his heart.  The Wraithguard tore through their forces as if they were mere wisps of smoke in the haze of the evening. The slaughter was manifest and within his soul Fioncail could hear the rapture of Kaela Mensha Khaine.

Then the leader of the Mon-Keigh, the one they called Captain Darien, who is known to us as the Wise-and-dangerous-fool, spoke up. Cutting through the tumult of battle he spoke to Fioncail by name. He, a Mon-keigh trader and pirate captain had read the runes of that place, both our runes of warning and warding and the ancient words we sought to protect the universe from, and he understood. He told Fioncail of places and things that he could not know and wisdom that should not have been shared and the fighting ceased.

Then the forces of Chaos, their noses bloodied before so now in great force, returned to claim the prize they desired.

Before them Eldar and Mon-Keigh stood together united against the Ruinous Powers, but that is another tale.   

A lost session - Session #21

(This write up somehow never got published at the time but it was the last session of the original campaign. I present it here for completeness and future reference...)

Darien ended up taking the helm of the Bounty and after a few turns of supporting others Theata showed an aptitude for being the Master of Ordnance...  In a nutshell:

• Lomar & Bastion sought permission to lead raiding teams aboard the Eldar vessel.  Darien granted it and they were successful in breaching the alien ship, spending most of the battle aboard wreaking havoc and sabotaging systems
• They discover that the ship apparently has no living crew.  Darien orders a full Etheric scan and it's determined that this is a "Ghostship" a wraith cruiser manned only by the souls of dead eldar kept in the ship's "Infinity Matrix".  The only living crew will be a single Spirit Seer who communicates with the dead "crew". 
• Darien's evasive manoeuvres kept the Eldar guns off target but scuppered any attempt to hit the xenos in return.  He managed to get behind the Eldar vessel and stayed there, away from its guns, for most of the battle
• The Eldar could only shoot torpedoes at its rear but they crippled the 2nd of the Iconoclast destroyers (the first having already had its Warp drives destroyed - forming a mini tear in space & a navigational hazard... all before the Emperor's Bounty arrived) that were already engaged with the aliens
• Lomar & Bastion make it to the ship's bridge and manage to blow a hole in it - depressurising it and potentially sucking the contents into the Void.  The Spirit seer apparently survives but locks down the bridge, evading their further wrath.
• Theata tried to contact the destroyers but discovered that they professed to be Chaos worshipping raiders.  After the 2nd destroyer was crippled the remaining ship fled, leaving the Bounty to deal with the Eldar alone.
• Darien keep finding messages, data and ship scans passed directly into his mind.  He doesn't know the source but he's not "wired into" the ship in any way.
• A second salvo of torpedoes slammed into the Bounty doing significant hull damage but leaving the systems, crew and moral relatively intact.
• Mord spends most of the battle aiding the ship's machine spirit to assist with manoeuvres or scanning as appropriate but turns his hand to leading repair teams after the 2nd torpedo salvo.
• Return fire, coupled with the continued destruction wrought by Lomar & Bastion's raiders crippled the ship.  The Raiders disembarked and a final salvo from "Gunner Theata" caused critical hit's throughout, leaving the cruiser a wreck in space.
• The Majestic Labour still hasn't arrived in system.
• The only stellar body in close range is a barren, airless world.  Theata conducts a series of navigational scans and, with the help of Trumpy & the librarium he can identify a single  complex on the surface, the runes and sigils mark it as connected to the Eldar Craftword Kaelor.

A new crew

So we have the beginnings of our Wrath & Glory "Warband":

• Artemis Callaghan - an ex-enforcer turned Bounty Hunter (Desperado archetype) who crossed paths with Rahip Lomar, the Rogue Trader's Master-at-Arms.  He impressed the old wardog enough to be put on a retainer by the Dynasty. 
• Lilith - A Hive Slum ganger with a knack for "acquisitions". She was caught trying to steal from the vaults aboard the Emperor's Bounty and negotiated her release (and subsequent employment by the Dynasty) by stealing from her then-employer.  Long before joining the crew she and Artemis crossed paths on opposite sides of the law.  
• Tyrest Anibus - A tech-Priest from Stygies VIII who is searching for a final component to prove his grand discovery...he has signed on with the crew as he sees their mission as conducive to his own (He is also has the highest Fellowship in the group....the party "Face" is a Cog-Priest....) 
• Ecthelion - An Aeldari Rangers of the Kaeldor Craftworld. Ecthelion appears and disappears at a whim, following the fickle fates that draw and command him and the secretive ploys and plans of his people.  Whatever his deeper motives the crew do know that he acts as guide, protector and chaperone for the mysterious Warlock...
• Illiyan - A dark and brooding psyker, the warlock was forced or convinced to leave his home Craftworld of Kaeldor due to tragic and troubling events, the specifics of which he has not disclosed to the Mon-Keigh he now travels with. The two Aeldari are recent allies but the connection between the Dynasty and their Craftworld goes somewhat deeper...

There's possibly a couple more characters to add to that mix but more on those in future posts...

Prelude

With a grinding of gears and squeal which, had his audio bafflers not auto-compensated, would have set the teeth he no longer owned on edge, the enormous ceramite and iconite door before Wyndame worked its way open. The visible mechanism was typical of designs of the Adeptus Mechanicus; great chromed and bronzed cogs and leavers spinning and hinging in overly theatrical movements, functionally opening the gateway to the inner sanctum but also impressing all witnesses with the glory of the Machine God and his works.

If Wyndame still had the capacity to sneer he would.

Smoke billowed out of the grand chamber beyond the doorway, clinging to the wrought steel deck plates. Wyndame was alone on the walkway, as the Master always wished it. He shuffled forward, away from the harsh fluorescence of the deck lights on their midday cycle and into the gloom of the room before him. Nasal filters immediately compensated for the copious smoke and incense. Analysis data scrolled across Wyndame’s eye implant HUD generating an audible tut from beneath his hood. A heady mix of opiates and “enhancers” today.  That meant the Master would be in one of his “moods”.

As the Master’s Seneschal Wyndame was his right hand; acting as major domo, counsellor, facilitator, administrator, accountant and ambassador. Over the years the Master had become increasingly reclusive and engaged within his studies leaving more and more matters in Wyndame’s manipulator appendages. That, however, was acceptable. The Seneschal was conditioned to obey and to serve as he had for decades before then but obedience still permitted a sense of resignation to one’s fate, occasional frustration at weakness  or illogical behaviours and frequent recognition of open folly. Especially when it came to the MasterMaster and his fanciful notions.

The doors to the chamber ground closed, their immense size making a grand and impressive clang as they met and sealed in place.  Impressive for the first few dozen times, perhaps, but to the jaded figure who now slowly approached the central dais they had long since lost all gravitas.

With his image intensifying optics compensating for the smoke and vapour from the brass incense burners and braziers that surrounded the centre of this vast room Wyndame could see the Master was furtively scribbling. To the left a dictation servitor was desperately trying to right itself after seemingly having been knocked down from the dais. It’s typography limbs singularly inefficient at any task other than transcription.

The Seneschal made two vocalisations in an approximation of coughs.  The Master continued his manic activity.

“M’lud?” Wyndame finally spoke. Still no obvious recognition. With a visible shrug (had there been any witnesses paying him attention) Wyndame started to drag himself up the steps of the dais but stopped suddenly as the master sat bolt upright and then whipped around to face him. The Seneschal was stuck by the fact that the Master looked more composed and in command of his faculties than he had seen him for a very long time.  “Oh dear” was his immediate thought.

Wordlessly, the Master slowly stood. Using his baroque style, bionic arm with golden filigree to dust crumbs and specks from his velvet breaches, he picked a dainty kerchief from the baroque style writing desk with golden filigree and started, in vain, to try to slowly wipe the ink stains from his still-human hand.

Wyndame remained paused. His augmented subprocessors hastily checked for viable response options but every behaviour selection previously utilized in engagements with the Master was evaluated to now carry disproportionate risk.  Silence to, for as long as this had now been, carried with it similar risk. A further audio output was increasingly necessary.

“M’lud, why are you troubling yourself so? Was the servitor malfunctioning?”

The Master’s gaze was still fixed on Wyndame.

He spoke. “Too slow.” He placed the ineffective and now only slightly ink stained cloth back on the desk.

“But Master that has never been an issue before.  It represents a significantly valuable model in terms of invested Thrones and was always satisfactory until now. Would you like the Magos to…”?

“No. Enough. Too slow now. Too much to do, too much to say.  It couldn’t keep up you see.  Was just in the way so I had to get it out of the way and do it myself, do you see? Things are happening, things are changing and it’s all becoming important again, do you see?”

Oh dear, oh dear.  Thought Wyndame. That’s it then, the years of wandering around and exploring, monitoring and measuring are done. His behavioural buffers and conditioning routines were suddenly under more pressure than they had been for some time.

"Why are you here though? Did I send for you?”

“Yes, Master, well no Master, not specifically.” Do you see what you have done? Wynadme thought, you are making me flustered.  I am never flustered. This is your doing.

“Out with it Wyndame, this isn’t like you.”

No, it wasn’t.

“Master, you wished for me to tell you when the probes and survey data was received.”

“Did I?” Oh dear…there was a gleam in the eye there, an almost perceived smile. He knows, by the Throne of Mankind, he knows, but I don’t know how.

“Have you seen the data Master?”

“No.  But you know I know what it says.”

“Master?”

“I was right, wasn’t I? My visions were correct.  I have seen it”

“Well Master, there is much to be confirmed and the data is only the preliminary scans. There is a significant margin of error, especially at this distance.”

“But? Say it”

“Say what, m’lud?” Wyndame was increasingly the furtive one now.

“Tell me how correct I was.  What have we found.”

The Seneschal fell back on what was safe, what was secure, what was reliable.  He started to recite the precis report summary in a monotone;

“At 249 days Standard 101.M42 a rogue asteroid with a mean diameter of 423 clicks, entered the current system at a speed of…”

“No!” the Master interrupted. “What IS it? What does it look like?”

“M’lud…” Wyndame was back to his usual, vocoder tinged voice.  He hated this. “…it looked a lot like a head.”

“Whose head?”

“Well, Master that data is subjective and..”

“Whose?”

“Some might liken it to a facsimile of the likness given to approximations of the mortal visage of the individual recognised within the Imperium of Mankind as his holiness the God-Emperor...”

“Told you.” The Master, a beaming smile on his face and exuding an enormous sense of victory and self-satisfaction, sat back down in his desk chair with a lump. “And now it begins… Again. Not that it ever really ended. "

“M’ud?”

With a sudden burst he was on his feet again and with a dramatic flourish he pointed up to the ceiling and the huge vista view ports that gave an unparalleled view of the stars, and the rip in reality that tore through them.

“Set sail man! All engines to full! And gather our chosen ones…you have a job for them…”

The return...

It is the year 101.M42...the Imperium of man is still coming to terms with being rent in twain by the Cicatrix Maledictum, the Great Rift; a chain of Warpstorms that have divided the galaxy into two. In the aptly named "Dark Imperium, beyond the light of the Astronomican, Ultramarines Patriarch and Lord Commander of the dominions of mankind, Roboute Guilliman summoned many notable houses and dynasties of Rogue Traders.  He has sought the aid of these, often maligned and outcast agents of the Imperium to scour the Dark Imperium for new worlds to colonise, new resources to replenish that lost in the recent and very damaging Plague Wars, and to find any assets, hidden technology or wonders that may offer hope to an isolated and endangered humanity...

One such dynasty was House Baccharus...or at least it's scion, Darien Erronius.

Erronius is never seen in public these days and never leaves his vessel; the ancient Adeptus Mechanicus Lathe class cruiser "The Emperor's Bounty". He is considered eccentric at best and as blatantly heretical at worst, but he has a reputation for searching for and rediscovering lost "wonders".  He has frequently disappeared from known space for decades at a time returning with  some remarkable finds, but frequently far less crew...

Regardless of the suspicion that many Imperial Agents may have of him, Guilliman is pragmatic and not averse to allying with "enemies" of the Imperium if he feels it benefits his plans or humanity as a whole. Therefore he dispatches Erronius with his blessing and the promise of support and great rewards, if he is successful.

Never an orthodox commander, Darien collects a crew of varied and disparate individuals, usually indirectly (none will ever have met him in person) many of whom may be of questionable character or conventional "worth" but are now bound together in his service and sets sail for the unknown reaches of space where the Emperor's Light barely shines...