The Fabricated Tales of
Alpha Capharius
Season 2
Chapter 4
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| Kroot - Miniature from my personal collection of painted stuff! |
This is a piece of fiction and may contain mature and adult themes.
You have been warned - read at your own discretion.
Distressed Ramble: To start with I was of many minds when I finished playing this session of Dark Heresy as to whether or not to write another Fabricated Tales. I put a lot of effort into developing a character, and my character development is done through my story telling here in this blog. In game my character is the weakest there is. I don't show any interest in the biggest guns, best armour or toys. That's for the tanks, of which this party is not lacking. My character is a "scientist" a person interested in seeking out knowledge and technology. Fighting is something I only do as a last resort. So when I find with the last two sessions the company being placed in two unwinnable situations I find I suffer severe malaise of psyche. As I have stated at multiple opportunities I don't respond well to certain situations, and this session was one of them. I enjoyed the day to a point, then didn't. In the end it has taken me some time to wash away the overwhelming negativity of the day and write my Tales without too much of my distaste of the day seeping through. If it has I apologise, and this preamble will hopefully explain why it may seem angry at times.
+++Personal
Journal Update+++
The universe
can get fucked!
+++End
Journal Update+++
Our endless journey in the webway
appears to be drawing to a conclusion.
The continual bonding between Horst and Eliza Le Roche is
disturbing. To think that I have to somehow
manipulate the fabric of time to place this woman back in time appalls me. Then I think why worry, it won’t affect me!
Eliza has taken to questioning
Horst regularly about the god
emperor and his purpose and divinity. She will often knell before the mighty Horst in
seclusion where the pair will perform their holy rituals. Horst will go on about the expanding might of
the emperor’s faith and how his seed of truth will implant itself in the body
and minds of the faithful. [redacted by Censors – hang on since when did my work become the
subject of censorship, if I want to write smut I should [redacted] – right I see that I am not going to win at this point in time, but I
always win my wars if not battles.] So it would appear that Eliza has
fallen well and truly into the camp of the Imperial faith and the clutches of
Horst’s bed (now I can’t get that image out of my head and Francine keeps
asking me constantly now about this subject).
Finally our destination is found
and a disused entrance way located. It
would appear that this is the dumping ground for bodies of the failed
experiments of the Haemonculi. I
wondered at the time why they had been left here rather than fashioned and
repurposed, but then all traps need bait.
The nature of the company I keep
is to loot, they cannot help themselves.
In the process of rifling through the putrid body parts and corpses they
discovered life signs! Lady B attempts
to get my attention to investigate but my interests are not in saving the life
of a failed and discarded corpse. I had
already determined what the outcome of this encounter was, a trap and I left it
to Lady B to resolve. A hideous larval
creature erupted from the corpse with the intention of impaling the nearest
living being. That’s why I left Lady B
deal with such trivial matters. She dealt with it. I scanned the remains, and noted it in my
extensive alien database. These
Haemonculi are certainly a busy lot, at least more directed than the Hivemind
of the Tyranids.
Unknown to me at the time was
that the creature was a psychic bomb and it’s death triggered a scream which
drew the attention of a sentinel. It did
not help matters when the psyker in our company decided to search for the
source of the incoming signal. Elvis is
fast proving to me that all the mutants on Sel Delmas must be purged for the
greater safety of the universe at large.
I would say humanity, but to be honest there are wonder more deserving
of continuance and letting these blue skinned maniacs out into the universe in numbers
would see these marvels destroyed in the least, vandalized or looted at
worst. Getting back to the insane psyker
with not the whit to master the basics of masking his psychic spore; well he
drew the crabs onto us – but not before the company set of more fireworks.
Sadly one of the containers well…
contained loot and as the pack rats they are (not I don’t include myself among
them – I am above such trivial matters[1])
were unable to restrain their baser natures.
A slew of alien equipment was found, from Ork, Hrud[2]
and Rak’gol[3]. The Hrud technology in particular Horst and I
attempted to persuade Elvis from using but the belligerent bugger refuses to
listen to us and I fear that in the end blows would end the issue[4]. The only thing that spared Elvis an immediate
execution was the cleansing of the radiation from his body and personal
equipment. This made me more concerned
as to the nature of the Hrud weaponry and backed Horsts desire to destroy the
weapon even more.
It was then or thereabouts the
company came under fire from a Kroot shaper.
What it was doing out here all alone I have no idea? Was it cut off from its band? Was it just
another mercenary in the employ of the Dark Eldar overlords? Who knows, the trigger happy “diplomats” in
the company decided that “negotiations” would start with a good old round of
gunfire? I think Elvis was again the
offender in this engagement, trying out his new toy (hence learning his
radiation salvation). He nicely lit the
top of the ruined tower, signaling to all and sundry “hey look, there is
something happening here, come and investigate”. So went any attempt of sneaking into
Commorragh, but I’m sure it was never our destiny to be given that opportunity…
While the company thought the
Kroot had been killed or driven off, the individuals found a number of novel
and deadly rooms and corridors. Elvis
discovered the corridor of slice and dice death lasers which moved up and down
the corridors once you entered them[5].
Sadly he survived that encounter, I was very sad he did not perish here. Elsie found lots of strange sealed storage pods
which proved in the end to be batteries.
Each “battery” contained the suffering lifeform of a “soul” on the last
moment of a hideous and painful death. I
found two “entertaining” areas; one was a control room where the access devices/panels
were too deadly to access. Yes they
inflicted or would have inflicted severe wounds had I decided to use them, I
would have shuddered to think what sitting in the console chairs would have
done had I chosen to do so. The other
was a corridor section which at first I thought was clear, there was no
immediate danger. I chose to send the
Tau drone in first, which is just as well.
A force wall of some description slammed down – though I’ve now come to
the conclusion it must have been a gravity inducer as there was no ceiling in
these corridors or sensors evident. The
pressure plating, damn it, who knows the capriciousness of this place is
literally driving my logic capacity to despair, even Francine is starting to
note it. The shield on the drone managed
to hold just long enough for me to ascertain that the consoles in the room I
left must have some functionality with the corridor. Somehow Francine and I destroyed the consoles
with little physical damage to us and the field was shut down and the drone
freed. I was muttered some dire
imprecations to the warp at this stage.
Lastly I located another room with some storage containers in which I
found an ornate deactivated silver cyber skull.
While all this was going on,
people were off wandering; Elvis was still being a silly bugger and playing
with the warp and the psychic signal.
Lady B, who is also somewhat psychic, appeared to be playing possum…
Enter the insidious elder wraith
engine constructed and twisted by the insane minds of the Dark Eldar. If the city of Commorragh was not aware of us
before they were now. The firepower that
was being exchanged was horrific. From
my position, Francine and I could only observe and wonder at the failure of our
silent insertion mission. Our “snatch
and run” option was now looking like “run and hide”. Eventually the sheer firepower which the
company could dish out, took the construct down. Yet the first of a continual stream of Dark
Eldar vessels and troops continued to swamp us.
A brave and valiant attempt by Francine and I did obliterate a number of
the skimmers as they approached but in the end small portals were opening and
troops were entering from multiple locations.
Before the last hurrah though,
there was a quick skirmish between a chaos champion and Elsie. A rather one sided affair after the beings
weapon was destroyed as it slumbered in stasis, but Elsie is more than capable
of stabbing any sleeping foe without fear and remorse. AND I found an ornate pistol which decided it
wanted to be part of me. Another
insidious and capricious trap left by a vindictive godling from the warp. Without hesitation I cut my left hand off. At this stage my malaise had taken hold and I
had given the order to retreat. Again
that capricious entity decided to play its hand and decided Eliza wanted the
weapon. Yes, don’t ask me why, I
attempted to kick it out of the way only to find out that this weapon was
clearly more that it was. Mouthing dire
warnings to the warp I managed to get the weapon over the edge and out of
harm’s way of any others.
Our exit was closed? The Dark Eldar were pouring in from
everywhere. The combat would have
continued until everyone was dead however one of my neural links activated and
I knew what had to be done. I wasn’t
happy, no way was I happy. I knew my
company was not going to like the outcome, the lost equipment in particular.
However between the choice of certain death and the slim chance of life…
I communicated by voice, open
communication channels and subspace.
“Gha tia''anga' Ur’kon.”
Time stopped for everyone with
the exception of Elsie who spent the next two years scavenging and lurking in
the underspire of Commorragh. How that
depraved piece of effluent survived I know not, it only goes to proves how much
of a genius I am when it comes to crafting works of excellence.
Well I shouldn’t say time stopped
for everyone. Two years passed where we
were the play things of the Haemonculi known as Ur’kon. This depraved creature spent every moment
torturing the company, learning what secrets he could from us. Clearly the only thing my fellows could
provide was their fortitude and willpower; they certainly had nothing of worth
meriting their extended life. I could
only assume the suffering and agony they provided kept the foul creature well
fed. As for me, well there was the
problem, which was I why I didn’t want to come here in the first place. Francine was “boxed”[6]
but she had more than enough tasks to keep herself occupied until such time as
I or others freed her. Ur’kon had a
great delight in breaking down my body; he dined well that one on my
despair. Even greater was my despair
when I found at the end of our separation and we were all brought together –
along with three copies of me. Each one
claiming to be me – but of course each of us would say that. The confounded look on the others when they
saw four of me… priceless. Ultimately though I was again driven by despair,
Ur’kon was feeding well I could see it.
His ego was swelling as I looked…
Ur’kons translator device clicked
on and conveyed to us his alien words.
“Creatures, you have fed me well
these last cycles. Rather than rendering you down, I give you an opportunity to
earn me greater sustenance and patronage.
You will fight in the arena. If you
win, you live… you earn some rewards, not many – perhaps a release from the
constant pain, like now. If you lose,
well I think you know the results of losing.
See how an identical copy of the slain original is here, oh wait there
are three. I can’t even tell which the original was anymore[7].
”
This boring and egotistical
creature droned on and on about its own magnificence, how it intended to use us
for its own importance. If I didn’t know better I could swear I was listening
to an alien version of myself…
Like a herd of cattle ready for
the slaughter the arena awaited us. The
copies and I hatched a plan settled on a plan.
We agreed that there could only be one outcome from this debacle. Death.
We all had only one objective from the arena – cost Ur’kon so much in
resources to remake us that in the end he would just cease finding amusement in
sending me (and by that I me US plural) to the arena. I was not concerned about dying here in this
benighted place; after all I knew my future self and several alternate timeline
operatives were out there. I’d live on,
my core knowledge was already in Francine and the coded distress signals she
was sending through the Dark Eldar network would reach the right sources. Time to upset the company by letting them
think I’m a brave warrior!
I won’t bore you with the tedious
boredom of the arena. It was hack and
slash. Yes I surprised the company by my
bold and suicidal leap into combat.
Sadly it seems as if the universe laughs at the perversity of cruel
injustice. If I was to have attempted
what I did in the arena in what would have been previously “the call of duty” I
would have more than likely been struck down and destroyed. In the arena, I proved the fool of
entertainment, fumbling and failing with the dignity of a drunk on his wedding
night. Out of all the bouts not one of
my “copies” was able to kill themselves in combat, and trust me – we damn well tried.
Our final bout was against some
lord’s daughter who wished to prove herself.
Apparently a lot was riding on this bout, and my knowledge of the
deadliness of wyches gave me much hope of seeing one of my selves expire in the
arena. Again my hopes were dashed, and
the damn wyche proved inadequate to the task, she couldn’t even pick off the
weakest target in the group – ME.
My malaise was deepening with
each combat. Fate was refusing to allow
me to end my existence and escape this hell hole I had unwittingly been
assigned to. After the last battle we
were brought before Ur’kon for another of his ego fueled speeches.
Instead we find that he had
company. An Archon and his retinue had
paid a visit to Ur’kon. The conversation between the aliens is incomprehensible
as none in the company understand the language[8]
(yet). There was the exchange of “gifts”
and it was while this was happening I caught sight of the Rod secured to the
waste of the Archon. Here we were,
restrained and neutered with no way of doing anything even if we could gain the
sought after artifact. Despair gripped
me further as I decided to send the Alpha Omega 666 code to the copies.
Their business concluded the Dark
Eldar left leaving us to the fate of Ur’kon and his monologue.
“Well, that went well. I trust you spotted the Rod Alpharius?”
This was spoken in well modulated
Imperial cant; in fact it was spoken in my voice. This startled me, in fact it startled
everyone.
“My plan worked – in a fashion,
I’ve kept you alive to this point in time.
It’s all thanks to the curiosity of Ur’kon really and my genius. If he hadn’t injected himself with my blood
then this plan of mine well ours would not have worked out. Trust me!”
With this Ur’kon/me walked over
to me (yes not one of the other three copies, we all know who the original is)
and we exchanged or more precisely Ur’kon/me downloaded all the data he had
accumulated during his time in this place.
The data I now have, so much information and technology and as usual no
time, resources or opportunity to implement any of it.
I ascertained the following
information:
- All our equipment had been taken, but Ur’kon had stockpiled it, though some has been destroyed. My Omnissian Axe and Inferno pistol though were not part of the missing and will be waiting for me. Some things never change.
- Francines AI has been boxed, her robotic frame was reclaimed for alternative use. Her AI is intact along with all back up materials and technology. ANGUS is there as well! Apparently it’s a noisy place.
- Elsie is roaming the Sprawls and Low Commorragh.
- Ur’kon had injected my blood into his veins once I had let slip the wonders of my nanotechnology. This of course was the doom I had planned for him, it would take time as I was not too sure how swiftly the Dark Eldar blood would resist the nanotechnology. Haemonculi are surprisingly resilient and it took some time to overcome the being. Then the charade had to continue with torturing the company. Though I believe I did enjoy inflicting on certain members of the company more than others…
- Elvis now has a psychic dampener and explosive collar. I have the codes. That solves one problem.
- Lady B’s suit has been severely damaged by Ur’kon’s initial experiments and none of her weapon options will initiate. Her physiognomy has now changed into a pale skinned eldar with white hair. This has appalled her no end, and has pleased me greatly.
- Archon Helbam is the holder of the Rod.
Our mission now is to pose as
mercenary guards in the employ of local Dark Eldar antiques dealer who has
acquired a trinket which will more than pique the interest of Archon
Helbam. Sadly Rervam the trader has no
idea that he has been set up, though considering this is Commorragh he should
know better. Once we have obtained the
Rod, we can flee Commorragh using the webportal device I have been given. This will deliver us to a safe “house” where
our cache of armour and weapons reequipped and way to freedom secured. Well that’s that plan – so far no plan as
ever survived contact with…
+++Personal
Journal+++
+++Date:[Temporal
seal]+++
The fate of
Ur’kon/Alpharius hybrid is recorded in the Council of ME. Once the company had successfully left
Commorragh the Haemonculi laboratory and surrounding areas were destroyed with
a warp breach occurred as a result of an unstable application of a dark matter
experiment. There were no survivors or
trace of his experiments for others to utilize.
+++End
Personal Journal+++
Inventory
Rak’gol Dark Matter Rifle,
Bandolier of Ammo, 30 per clip, 5 clips
Ork slugga (useless), choppa,
armour
Stryxix aether blade, 1d10+2 E,
ignores armour, blue grey blade, hums
Square, round edges object, funny
looking?
Hrud Rifle (warp touched) Black Plasma
draws form the warp
Deactivated ornate silver cyber
skull
[1] Unless it deals with matters of
technology and information.
[2] Hrud
species show a bizarre, vaguely humanoid, black-eyed creature with long,
segmented limbs, an exoskeleton and a mouth featuring both teeth and mandibles.
Whatever their physical form, the Hrud prefer darkness and are basically
scavengers and tunnel-dwellers. They are found all over the galaxy, though
never in large numbers. They are considered to be parasites, and when they are
referred to it is usually as "infesting" a place. (source - http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Hrud)
[3] A
xenos breed of which little is known for fact, they take the appearance of
rough-hewn and irregular stone reptilids, eight-limbed and over three metres
long. Chalky white in colour and mantis-like in bodily arrangement, Rak'Gol
warriors favour cybernetic augmentation to increase their abilities and replace
lost limbs. (source - http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Rak%27Gol)
[4] Regrettably this did not happen due
to the many interruptions that plagued us.
[5] Reminiscent of the old Sol vid
Resident Evil where the computer defends itself with a laser grid.
[6] Boxed - reference to being reduced
to the core AI. Usually a functioning power core and cybernetic unit, normally
a boxed AI is shut down so it is unaware of the passage of time. Some
individuals have been known to leave an AI active while boxed allowing the AI
to perform assigned tasks.
[7] A rather useful ability I have is
that of regenerating. It is especially
useful when it comes to attempts at branding me with identification marks. I’m able to either remove it altogether or
alter it to another code. Rather handy
at times when you need to impersonate someone else.
[8] I should point out that the Dark
Eldar will rarely sully their tongues with base languages of aliens (though
they known them), preferring to leave the menial task to translator technology
when such communication is absolutely necessary.
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