The Rainwalkers

Gunpoint and a new retinue: 834M41-0121

Nothing ever good happens when I’m sober.

Our newest debacle would take us to the outreaches of a forlorn Hiveworld known as Gunpoint. The smell of metal, rot, and corruption brings back a sense of nostalgia; how I have missed the old days where a laspistol was enough to garner shelter or a purse brimming with credits for the day.

Alas, as a Rogue Trader I have much better prospects ahead of me.

The conference given by our benefactor was purely for show; an air of alarm followed by an anxiousness not usually seen by informants permeated the very core of the room and its small furnishing. Around the dimly-lit table were apparently newly seized opportunities in the form of a hack-job and mercenary crew. Thank the Primarchs that Sigmund and Nyx were there; I wouldn’t have even bothered with this retinue if it wasn’t for them. However, of all the ironies by the Throne, our funds are small so finding a crew for our trade house has been based on a combination of luck and desperation.

Is…that Adeptus Mechanicus housing multiple skulls around his waistband? How intriguing…I will have to learn more about this individual later. I am not but impressed by his sense of fashion and nonchalant care for others.

Meanwhile I see that the Exmilitant my information broker recommended decided to make an appearance. For having denied the Star of the Emperor twice, he looks naught better than a thug with a gas-mask. I also like him. I will have to spend time conversing with him as well.

And who exactly, are these other two? This one seems to be a behemoth of a man; strength is an important factor, his prowess will be exploitable in the future.

Meanwhile I have no idea how to even describe the other one.
I’ll have to thank Sigmund and my information brokers soon. This is not a bad crew given the circumstances. They appear to be loyal and willing to work for some coin. Something desirable for any working situation.

This tense atmosphere seems to be building. Our benefactor appears to be in a hurry; rude if you ask me. Getting a ship should not be an exhaustive approach. What am I even paying him for? Either way, I’d better grip my hand cannon and make a future if things turn sour…

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And on it goes...
Part One

My travels took me to a hive world on the edge of the Hazeroth region, looking for my next pay day. Hive worlds always seem like a safe bet for work. As I was scouting for a job, a man in a grey cloak handed me a tablet, filled with information about me, some strangers, and a location.
I haven’t been given a mystery job in a long time, so this will probably be pretty great. Normally I don’t just take the first job offered to me by a stranger, but the tablet noted my… love… for pirates as “possible future problem”, so I’m fairly certain they’re not going to try to sell us into slavery or kill us and steal what little goods we have. They’d probably have a hard time of it anyway.
I entered the large warehouse the tablet led me to, and was led into a room filled with the strangers from my tablet, and the man in the grey coat. This guy was huge, almost as big as me! Very impressive. He looked like he was in a rush though, and something wasn’t right in the way he moved, he was preparing for a fight. Hand on my gun I listened to his instructions.
He told us there was a ship in dry dock on the far side of the district that we were to be given command of, and that we were headed to a penal planet, Sheol XVII, for a dead drop, with more instructions later. Gunfire filled the air and some thugs busted in and tried to kill us. They succeeded in killing the stranger who gave us the job, but he made sure to take one with him. We stayed and fought for a few minutes, but were quickly outnumbered and fled. We were greeted outside by the Adeptus Arbites, because my luck is always so great.
Emir stepped forward(which is frankly amazing considering I thought for sure he had been killed, his fate was not to die today though), and after some quick explanation, he told them what had transpired in the warehouse, and they rushed in and joined the fray while we searched for the dry dock.
After what seemed like forever searching, we made it to the dock. The ship is fairly impressive, looks to be cruiser class. However, shortly upon approaching our new command, we were intercepted by some officials who claimed to be part of the Administratum. Fooled us all too, until we saw the thugs that they had accompanying them. Of course it was the same group that had attacked us earlier at the chop shop.

Well, something came up, so I’ll have to finish this in my next entry, spoiler alert, I survive the next part.

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Destination Sheol XVII-834.M41-0121
Emir heavily injured. Unstable crew established.

Approximately four hours after the solar zenith, Emir, Nyx and I were delivered an envelope detailing a mission involving our unique skills and instructed to meet at a predetermined location. No familiarity is had with this individual. Details included tremendous profit.

Cautious Optimism.

Upon our arrival to a large abandoned warehouse, the man in question gave a brief but ill processed description of our mission. We are to be given command of a ship and will take it to an established meet and exchange point for further instructions. He was soon killed by pursuers who then opened fire on Emir, Nyx, myself and the various rabble that makes up our new crew.

Unbridled excitement. Intense fear.

The combat was alarming and dangerous. One among our group seems trained in the art of combat and he was most helpful. As i gunned down our first attacker, my bolt-gun jammed most inconveniently, prompting Emir to step into the crossfire of my opponent and two unseen assailants. This resulted in his perforation with bullets and a near fatal shot to his head.

Breathtaking. Tremendous irritation and fear. Pleasant surprise.

Rightfully he fled combat, and we proceeded to kill our remaining opponents. My second gun jammed as well, but my first gun was repaired by our (apparent) new mechanic. Conveniently, this allowed me to dispatch another foe. In addition, Nyx managed to kill an attacker coming from our flank.

Relief. Frustration. Perplexity.

The previously mentioned obvious soldier rallied the rest of us out the doors and we were met with the Arbites. After speaking with them, we were allowed to leave as they moved to contain the violence within. We then managed (after several fruitless hours to locate our ship. Unfortunately, our attackers were already waiting. It is only a matter of time before they kill us or we escape.

Concentration. Impatience.

Tasks and Priorities:

1) Apply subterfuge and stealth to any further combat situations (training is in order)
2) Speak with military oriented comrade about developing future tactics
3) Educate Emir about statistical probability of death in the face of multiple shooters
4) Inquire how Nyx uses firearms
5) Escape captivity and hire a full crew for our vessel
6) Perhaps introduce all members of core crew to each-other.
7) Arrange celebration of survival (or any death rites necessary)

Further notes:

I find myself overall irritated with the process of events. Having well crafted equipment cease operations twice in the span of ten minutes is astounding as well as frustrating. Our employer died before giving us specific and useful instruction. Emir recklessly moved into combat and was nearly killed. Our search was inhibited by a lack of useful information and proper coordination. Combat is intensely uncomfortable at close range and i endeavor to avoid it. However, it appears likely I will be incapable. However, meeting the goal of a fully functioning and highly capable star ship is a tremendous positive development that should not be understated. Perhaps I am still in shock, or perhaps I will only feel elation once our captors are dispatched. In the meantime, I shall plan our finances according to the assumption our survival is eminent.

Fortuna est Deus,

Sigmund.

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Field Log 834.M41-0121 Main Hive:Gunpoint

//THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: A CLOSED MIND IS A FOCUSED MIND//

I find myself in strange company.

Currently traveling with several non-combatants making our way though the city to the dry docks.

The man that hired me has died, killed in an enemy ambush. May the he rest in the light of the Emperor.

The assault came as we were being brief on our mission, we are to take the ship waiting for us to a Penal World called Sheol XVII to retrieve a dead drop, and we were forced to engage the enemy. I fear for the non-combatants. They have no formal training or fire discipline. One ran forward into the line of fire and became surrounded. The Admech, though showing superior martial prowess, also ran into the line of fire preventing me from providing covering fire to the first. Thankfully the two that remained by my side were able to provide enough support to cut down the assailants, even as the first fled in the face of the enemy after being shot several time.

With enemy reinforcements on the way, the first group made its way out of the facility (I found the first one that had fled looting. Were this the formal Guard I would have put him up on charges) before going for the two that had separated from us. Found them engaged with one combatant which was put down quickly. they held up quite well considering one of them appears to be blind.

The Arbites had responded to the sound of combat and met us at the gates. Thankfully, the looter was quicker with words than his powersword and was able to talk our way out. However we were left with no further plan of action as the man that had hired us was killed before giving the specifics to the operation, including the location of the dry docks of this hive.

Attempting to acquire information on the dry dock’s location in the streets proved fruitless. Moving locations to a drinking establishment proved more fruitful and coordinates were located. In route we stopped momentarily for a breather allowing me to dress the wounded, the worst was the one I found looting. He had the most intricate brand and tattoo scrawled across his body in written in a form of Gothic I did not recognize. He is lucky that he won’t loss that eye. My own wounds are minor, combat potential will be unaffected, my reward will have to wait another day.

We will begin again moving shortly. I will update this when were are aboard the ship.

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Kayp Log
The begining of an adventure

Another job. Didn’t matter what it was, as long as long has it provided food. I decided to follow the man with the envelope.

The man with the envelope brought me to a warehouse where vehicles came once they died. Even with proper tools and time it would have been a rough job but he seemed uninterested in the machines. Brought into a room filled with others, apparently the job was elsewhere. Dry docks? I hadnt seen them, but my time here had been brief on this planet.

Before, even learning the others names, there was an attack and the messenger was slain. We scattered. I was shot but miraculously unhurt. A man came to my aid and quickly we went from a seemingly easy fight to a deadly one. The attacker was not easily taken down. Another shot was fired but this time i didn’t make out so lucky. Unable to help the stranger or myself, one of the others from the meeting, appeared and helped usher us to the rest of the group. Exiting the building, we were stopped by security but they quickly lost interest in us and left to chase down the brutes that were quickly on our heels.

Entering the city, we found a pub to rest in. Getting a brief look at the others, it was hard to get a grasp on the group. Some of them seemed to know one another. One man seemed badly injured as well. Another was carrying around a mans head? It was a lot to take in and even more to process. It was hard to know who to trust, but if we were all in this together, surely these people could be trusted?

After some time, we finally gather information on the dry docks, but things go wrong very quickly. Spotting the ship for a brief moment, we barely get acquainted before quickly becoming surrounded by some familiar faces. They do not look happy to see us.

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---

This planet is stifling and smells of metal. The streets are deafening and yet no one speaks. The people are tense, they walk quickly, like stopping for too long makes them a target. Sigmund called it “Gunpoint.” How appropriate.

A strange man approached Emir and Sigmund. His demeanor was calm, but he was frantic, afraid. Worse later in the small room where we met what I suppose is our future crew. Emir seemed to accept them as such. Some of them seem…off. Unstable. Especially the tech-priest. He lingers over the dead a little too long. But I trust Emir’s judgment on these things.

The frantic man instructed us to find a “dead drop” (I sincerely hope that’s a figure of speech) on a planet called “Sheol XVII”. Find a ship at the dry docks (are there wet docks?). They’ll pay well, afterward. Sounds like a trap, but I trust Emir’s judgment on these things.

There was no time to ask questions. The man’s pursuers caught up with him. With us, I suppose. His enemies are now ours. They nearly overwhelmed us. Emir smelled strongly of blood afterward, but he seemed steady enough when he spoke to the Arbites. They let us go.

I talked to another navigator in a crowded bar (everywhere is crowded) about the location of these dry docks. I made sure to blink and look at her face, like Sigmund told me, so she wouldn’t notice my…defect. She handed me a piece of paper. Directions, apparently.

The ship is just ahead, but our new enemies are here too, waiting. The way they surround us, I can feel them watching us, poised on the edge of violence, waiting for an excuse to fire. This was definitely a trap.

They’re taking us away now. I won’t abide another cage.

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Recovery Site 17, Sheol

Artifact 1: Human. Crack from left coronal suture to optic canal. Too fragile.
Artifact 2: Ork. No jaw, large split between eye sockets.
Artifact 3: Ork. 2 shattered jaws.
Artifact 4: Eldar. Broken upon removal, broken further upon anger.
Artifact 5: Necron. Intact with few cracks. Smile deemed too unsettling.
Interrupted by a fleshy brazen enough to approach a man with half of a skull in his hand. There was some mention of work, I didn’t listen.
Artifact 6: Tyranid. Jaw fragment.
Artifact 7: Human. Missing right zygomatic bone.
Artifact 8: Human. No teeth, no vomer, fractured nasal bone.
Artifact 9: Tau. Caved in left temporal bone.

Artifact recovery has been fruitless, so the time has come to find a new site. The fleshy that came by earlier returned, so I’m off to a new location.

The fleshy is dead and I’m left with what I can only imagine is a group dredged up from the bottom of a river somewhere. The warehouse was ambushed, and in mere minutes two have rushed towards death’s door, two fled combat, and all six failed at the simplest of tasks, gathering information. Their ineptitude will not consume time better spent so after a harsh lesson in how to read and speak, I’ve left them to their own devices. I presume that’s why we’ve been captured.

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