Falling Damage?

20th March 2014

Our route through the hulk, as it disintegrates around us, finally gives us hope of finding a safe way off. An Imperial Navy ship is wedged on to the outer hull of the Mortis Thule, and a hangar with a working shuttle appears to be intact. There are even a couple of servitors active to help ready the shuttle. If only it were that simple.

The shaking, shuddering, and general mayhem currently being experienced inside the Mortis Thule is being caused by Imperial Navy ships shooting the hell out of the hulk, which we find out by having a view in to space at last. The hulk has apparently appeared in normal space on a near-collision course to an important Imperial world. The Navy is attempting to divert the hulk's course with explosions.

Not only are we under almost-direct fire, but the servitors, having got the shuttle prep underway, are ripped in half by a giant tyranid that was sleeping in the rafters of the hangar, now fully awake and slipping down to the floor to face us.

'Well, the bigger they are...'

'...the more damage they do.'

One of us isn't Thinking Hard Enough

20th March 2014

The space hulk continues to shake and shudder around us. As we make our way towards what we hope is a way off the hulk we see tyranids and genestealers in the near-distance, but none of them bothering us as they too are panicked by the massive disturbance of the hulk. Hell, if tyranids and genestealers are panicky, we must really be in trouble.

As we progress, a massive shock reverberates through the hulk. 'It feels like a nearby 300 megaton nuclear blast.' Yep, I'm definitely familiar with how that feels.

The blast actually rips a load of material away from the hulk, revealing, some hundred metres away, a hole in the hull to space, rapidly decompressing the area. 'Brother Lucian, I think the air is safe in here. You can take your helmet off.'

Such good-natured ribbing can't last long, as we have to avoid the effects of the decompression and deterioration of the hulk. At least we've got our mag-boots.

'You're not on metal. You're on rock. Your mag-boots don't work.'

'Let's call it ferrous rock.'

'If you like, but calling it ferrous doesn't make it magnetic.' And so we have to resort to making skill checks to aid us through the landsliding rubble.

Brother Lucius uses logic to work out the best direction to take through the rubble.

Brother Lucian successfully searches for a clear path.

'Uh, I'll use psyniscience.'

'How will that help?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

(The answer, apparently, is 'no'.)

Take it Like a Space Marine

13th March 2014

The space hulk rumbles and shakes ominously, almost as if the whole structure is under the influence of a massive gravity well. Time is perhaps more of the essence than before, and we hustle down corridors looking for a ship suitable to get us clear of the hulk.

Such speed carries its risks, like running headlong in to genestealers. It was bound to happen sooner or later, it's just that sooner would have meant we'd have more ammunition. We have just enough to whittle down a couple of hordes until there are just a few individual genestealers left.

Brother Lucian has one of the genestealers crawling all over him. He goes in to full defensive mode, dodging multiple attacks as best he can. It's not quite enough, and is forced to use an available reroll of the dice.

'What a waste of a reroll.'

'What? It's either reroll or get ripped to pieces by a genestealer!'

'I know what I said.'

Living up to our Reputation

13th March 2014

The Daemon Prince of Slaanesh Interrogator Thirl accidentally summoned rips him apart. And, with that, both are gone.

Thirl is gone, his mutant hordes are mown down or charred, and Assassin Clorr is in two pieces. '300 dead bodies, and not one of them is ours.'

'We once again exemplify our mantra: kill everything that isn't us.'

'Not only that, but a gate to hell was opened, and we neither opened it nor got dragged in to it.'

'It's a pity we didn't get to fight the Daemon Prince. It would have been an interesting...'


Dealing with Clorr Gone Rogue

13th March 2014

Death Cult Assassin Clorr has gone rogue. She's probably been dominated by Interrogator Thirl, but who can tell? Clorr's all over Brother Lucian, trying to stab him with her power stilettos, but on missing backflips away and turns her attention to me.

Oh yeah, time to melee. This is why I have my force sword. I swing and hit, Clorr failing to parry my blow. I already do good damage, boosted by my psy rating, but I can do more. It only requires a successful focus power test, and seeing as we already have one Daemon Prince summoned because of the perils of the warp I don't think I can make the situation much worse.

My focus power test succeeds, no psychic phenomenon suffered, but with no degrees of success. I need degrees of success to inflict my extra damage. This sounds like a good time to spend a fate point. I reroll, this time passing the test with two degrees of success. That's an extra 2D10 damage.

The 2D10 is rolled, getting a result of 3 and 1. It doesn't sound like much—indeed, greater fuss is made about how I used a fate point for 4 extra damage—but in this case it is just the ticket. Clorr drops from 5 points of critical damage, badly hurt and losing lots of blood, to 9 points of critical damage—cut in half and dead. Success!

Given that Interrogator Thirl is about to be squished by a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, I wonder when the domination effect would have ended.

Goths are Naturally Drawn to Black Light

6th March 2014

Still looking for a way off the Mortis Thule, we are heading towards the Eye of the Inquisition that Brother Lucius recognised on an internal scan of the hulk. As we work our way up the corridor, we feel we're being followed.

Rather than directly confront our stalker, we drop a couple of hopper mines and dip in to cover. Unfortunately, what we notice is not an explosion but a humanoid figure neatly avoiding the mines. But at least we see her clearly now.

'Who are you?'

'I am Death Cult Assassin Claw.'

'...could you be any more of a goth?'

'Clorr, not Claw.'

'Even so.' But Clorr is looking for Interrogator Thirl, apparently a rogue member of the Inquisition, who has escaped capture and sought refuge in the Mortis Thule, the unlikeliest of places. It seems we are heading in the same direction, and bringing a traitor to justice is a good use of Deathwatch marines.

Onwards, to where a disturbing and highly unusual ship sits inside the Mortis Thule. Despite trying to make sense of its shape and volume, there is a distinct geometry that doesn't look to work. It's rather unsettling.

Moving in to the ship doesn't get much better for our states of mind, but we are able to cope with the weirdness. Stepping in to one section of corridor, however, has it vibrating, and we get a sensation of moving upwards quickly.

When the corridor stops vibrating we are clearly in the same ship but a different section, as evidenced by the hordes of mutants around us, all bowed in reverence. In the middle of the room is a shaft of black light...

'Black light? I think that's called "shadow".'

...inside which is a man.

'How can you see something lit by "black light"?'

'Use your imagination.'

'I'm trying! It isn't easy.'

The man is Interrogator Thirl, and the hordes surrounding him rise and turn towards us. But hordes are easy when you have psychic fire and fully automatic bolter guns. Waves of mutants surge forwards, waves of mutants are cut down or horribly charred, until it is just us and Thirl left.

Interrogator Thirl has been using his own psychic powers. One beam of energy missed Brother Lucien, one struck Clorr. Now that his mutant hordes have been destroyed, he brings out of the big guns. He summons his psychic powers and, well, that's not all he summons.

The psychic power Thirl tried to instantiate fizzles. But the energy goes somewhere. A connection to the warp is made, it is intensified, and Thirl accidentally summons a Daemon Lord of Slaanesh. The Daemon Lord focusses on Thirl, its summoner, and will remain until either it or Thirl is destroyed.

'Well, that's convenient. Have we won?'

Skill: Recapitate

6th March 2014

Screams resound through the corridor ahead of us. They sound human in origin, but we're not quite sure where they're coming from, as we're still having trouble using our auspexes in the space hulk Mortis Thule. A little frustrated, Brother Lucien flexes his tech-use skills and tries to fix his.

'Have you tried turning it off and on again?'

'Yeah, didn't do anything. I think the influence of the warp is having a strong effect.' So Lucien tries the, apparently, next-best thing: he bangs the auspex against a bulkhead a few times. 'Still nothing.'

We press on regardless, screams now stopped, but it seems that we wouldn't have been in time to save anyone. A couple of minutes further along our path brings us to a grisly scene, where several people have been brutally decapitated.

Brother Lucius moves in to take a look at the bodies, using his medicae skill to examine the bodies, as well as try to determine the cause of the wounds, whether by weapon or creature. 'Sadly, there is nothing I can do for any one them', he says.

'I'm disappointed', says Lucien.

'Brother, you couldn't even fix your auspex. I'm not going to feel bad about not being able to heal decapitation.'

But it is Working Overtime

20th February 2014

Either asking questions about the red dragon of Goldrock or Gowan the Bone Harvester has garnered us some unwanted attention. Toogood and Farrel are trying to gather some information together in a market square when they are asked to 'make a spot check'.

Toogood is still looking for persimmon to make a fruit smoothie, but Farrel sees what's happening. 'Your sixth sense warns you that some of the elite dragon guards are closing in on you from different directions.'

'I could be wrong, but I think sight still qualifies as one of the five normal senses.'

And We'd Get Eaten by an Angry Dragon

20th February 2014

The town of Goldrock has a dragon as its protector. Or so the story goes. Three hundred years ago a red dragon promised the town protection, on the condition that it was otherwise given its privacy.

The town agreed, because who wouldn't, and created a unit of elite guards to be stationed in three fortresses that guarded the entrance to the dragon's lair. Of course, no one would dare raid a village under the protection of a red dragon, but is there really a red dragon protecting the village?

One old man remembers his great-grandfather having seen the dragon, but his estimate of its size and the size of the lair don't quite match up. And despite patchy stories of people seeing the dragon fly at night, and the occasional puff of orange smoke coming out of the lair, the whole tale starts to smell a bit fishy.

'We should stay up', says Toogood, 'look for him at night, when the villagers say the dragon flies around. Maybe we can even provoke him to come out. What's the worst that could happen?'

'He could be provoked in to coming out.'

Better Than an Inn Creep

20th February 2014

Gowan the Bone Harvester has become our only link to curious happenstances surrounding dragons and dragon-like abominations in the area. It would be good to question him about what he knows, so that we might uncover what's going on. However, Gowan was last seen heading with some haste out of the village, towards Goldrock.

We follow to Goldrock, but lag behind Gowan by about a week by the time we get there. Now we have to locate him. Farrel has an idea, 'We should check in to an inn, see if anyone has seen him. There are quite a few, though, as the town is fairly large, so we'll probably have to work through them. But we should find him eventually, as he's bound to have sought accommodation.'

'Can I just clarify,' says Toogood, 'that what you are suggesting is we go on a pub crawl?'