W40k: Rogue Trader

1: "Totally-Not-A-Mutant" makeovers

A stone and a shootout.

Date Created: 816.M41


Today we arrived at Port Wander after another hellish, though uneventful journey through the warp.
As the engines hum back to their normal pitch and reality solidifies itself outside the thin skin of a hull I release my grip from my axe, standing to my full height as a message is relayed:
’We’re going ashore, get ready.’

Answering my summons I head off to get disguised, a task so common it was almost part of my daily routine.
Once the disguise was complete I donned my helmet and pulled the hood of my robe over my face too, further obscuring my appearance before reporting to Magnus and accompanying him out.

We swiftly arrived at our destination, passing through busy streets (thankfully people either did not notice my…. ‘unfortunate’ appearance, were not too shocked or passed it off as yet another Mechanicus experiment)
we were greeted by an old man.
I was too busy looking for signs of fellow Adeptus Mechanicus members or new technology and didn’t pay him too much attention,
although talk of a treasure ship did gain my interest.
(…perhaps it is new tech that I can use to purge myself of this weak flesh, or better yet, tech that will bring power to the throne.)

As Magnus took an item there was a commotion, I was too engrossed in my thoughts of what may lie in the depths of the lost ship to pay much heed till this point.

Looking around from my self imposed daze I noticed that a woman dressed in white signalling to what appeared to be a servitor as it dropped something and flew off. Almost instantly she took flight herself.

The following 18 seconds were loud and fast,
Bullets mowed into the crowd as a group of six fired at them, quickly realising the bullets were intended for us I readied my trusty power axe and advanced towards the hail of bullets, standing beside our honourable missionary, Morpheus as he was yelling a warning about his impending purge.

I heard my allies fire behind me, a civilian fell, another, and another, who was shooting who was hard to tell but I did recognise the cries of Dara, hopefully not too injured.
I advanced slightly past my missionary friend as he readied his flamer, a bullet tearing through my armour but doing no noticeable damage to my true flesh.

Another few shots and more civilians fell, followed by Morpheus stepping beside me and screaming at the top of his lungs ‘I WARNED YOU!’.
A sea of cleansing flame engulfed those foolish enough to still be standing in the way, civilians fell or scattered in the opposite direction, three of the six assailants were too slow to evade and were set alight.
This gave me enough room to do what I had been gearing up for, pulling up my power axe I charged with my full speed towards the nearest assailant and brought it down on their head.

FOR THE THRONE’ is the last cry my target heard before I removed them from the shackles of their flesh.
The blood spattered everywhere and they burst aflame, I stepped to the side as their headless body moved forward on impulse, a fleshy puppet of a machine without commands.


and so we are off

AAsama Caspian

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