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Post by hobbsy on Jul 27, 2024 15:05:19 GMT -5
Vernard continued to be part of the scenery, content with the others going about their business to sort things out.
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Post by theredauthar on Jul 28, 2024 12:26:22 GMT -5
Adela doesn’t repeat the name, but she can feel it on her lips. Sisters of Silence. She’s only heard rumors of the supposed group, few guardsmen can claim to have any experience with them.
At least not openly it seems.
“Copy that,” Treston replies, keeping her voice level. Internally she’s screaming. She just had to ask more. And what’s worse it both made sense and couldn’t be possible at the same time. Mordian Doctrine would have had her open fire upon the truck the moment they refused to cooperate and yet if they had, they’d be in the wrong. Orders and guidelines, procedures and practices, they’re not supposed to conflict and yet they often do.
“I will confer with Corporal Castillo on how this interaction should be recorded. Over and out,” she concludes. The Lieutenant hadn’t mentioned special situations or guests. If he had been more forthcoming this incident could have been avoided. And yet if he had orders not to mention it or even wasn’t informed, how could he say anything?
Adela slowly marches back over to the truck, without a word to the other gate guards, though if any have picked up on her mood or habits thus far, they could probably read something about her communication with High Command has left her bothered.
She stops next to the driver door of the vehicle, returning the folded orders back to Castillo.
“You’ve been cleared,” Treston says, pulling her scarf down to talk quieter, “Before we can let you through, I have to confirm how to register it in the log. As a medic I also need your word that any and all wounds have or will be treated, and no unregistered medical conditions, such as plague or sickness, are entering the base.”
She knows she technically doesn’t, but the strange and uncomfortable situation of conflicting protocols and orders, has made her fall back on Mordian Regulation, specifically when dealing with their hated enemies.
She adds, hesitantly, “It should actually be the word of your ranking squad member or medical expert, but…since I’ve been ordered to confer with you on how to process the log, that should mean your word is valid in these cases.”
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Post by Fate's End on Jul 28, 2024 14:19:03 GMT -5
With the news that the truck was cleared, Ilona lowered her rifle, masking her expression of annoyance. The truck still felt wrong, but apparently it was cleared. This made it not her problem. With a few short steps, she backed up from the vehicle further, still wanting to keep it in sight in case something went wrong.
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Post by LaxKnight on Jul 29, 2024 1:28:03 GMT -5
Adela doesn’t repeat the name, but she can feel it on her lips. Sisters of Silence. She’s only heard rumors of the supposed group, few guardsmen can claim to have any experience with them. At least not openly it seems. “Copy that,” Treston replies, keeping her voice level. Internally she’s screaming. She just had to ask more. And what’s worse it both made sense and couldn’t be possible at the same time. Mordian Doctrine would have had her open fire upon the truck the moment they refused to cooperate and yet if they had, they’d be in the wrong. Orders and guidelines, procedures and practices, they’re not supposed to conflict and yet they often do. “I will confer with Corporal Castillo on how this interaction should be recorded. Over and out,” she concludes. The Lieutenant hadn’t mentioned special situations or guests. If he had been more forthcoming this incident could have been avoided. And yet if he had orders not to mention it or even wasn’t informed, how could he say anything? Adela slowly marches back over to the truck, without a word to the other gate guards, though if any have picked up on her mood or habits thus far, they could probably read something about her communication with High Command has left her bothered. She stops next to the driver door of the vehicle, returning the folded orders back to Castillo. “You’ve been cleared,” Treston says, pulling her scarf down to talk quieter, “Before we can let you through, I have to confirm how to register it in the log. As a medic I also need your word that any and all wounds have or will be treated, and no unregistered medical conditions, such as plague or sickness, are entering the base.” She knows she technically doesn’t, but the strange and uncomfortable situation of conflicting protocols and orders, has made her fall back on Mordian Regulation, specifically when dealing with their hated enemies. She adds, hesitantly, “It should actually be the word of your ranking squad member or medical expert, but…since I’ve been ordered to confer with you on how to process the log, that should mean your word is valid in these cases.” With the news that the truck was cleared, Ilona lowered her rifle, masking her expression of annoyance. The truck still felt wrong, but apparently it was cleared. This made it not her problem. With a few short steps, she backed up from the vehicle further, still wanting to keep it in sight in case something went wrong. Corporal Castillo would happily take the order back and stuff it into his breast pocket. He’d listen to what Specialist Treston had to say before giving a nod and answering, “As said before, personnel. You can put Lucifer Blacks as the regiment if you need to. If you need a reason, logistics. As for medical…” He seemed to think for a bit before saying, “Well, all wounds are treated and we’ll probably just get seen by Hospitallers after this anyway. However, if you don’t want to take my word for it then you can look inside yourself if you want. Though, since you seem to be the only medic here, I imagine you won’t need anyone else to go with you besides maybe one person.” From the perspective of the other Mordian, Trooper Bembenek saw nothing new or threatening about the truck aside from what she’s been experiencing the entire time. She was likely close enough to hear the conversation between Adela and the driver if she cared to listen. (If Ilona wishes to eavesdrop, it will be either a Careful or Sneaky roll with a target of 0.)
Vernard continued to be part of the scenery, content with the others going about their business to sort things out. It was truly nighttime now, but the lights from the wall illuminated the gentle sprinkling of snow and the poor driver of the busted wagon on the side of the road shivering a bit in the cold. The presence of the truck still gnawed at him like a whisper reminding him it was still here, but now that he wasn’t looking at it the feelings of wrongness were a bit easier to bottle down.
(If Specialist Dekker wished to have eavesdropped or have picked up any of the conversation Adela had with Command it will be either a Careful or Sneaky roll with a target of 5.) |
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quoth
Junior Member
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Post by quoth on Jul 29, 2024 8:39:35 GMT -5
Dekker can see the interaction but can’t hear what’s being said. Everyone else seems calm about it, though, so she’ll be calm too. Nice and calm, certainly no scratching noises on the inside of this skull. Everything is fine and normal.
Prue swivels the turret back and forth a little, just to do something with the nervous energy pushing her to act. She fervently wishes there was something to shoot, that would cheer her up.
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Post by hobbsy on Aug 1, 2024 6:34:18 GMT -5
Vernard would finally start to stir as Adela marched back to the truck. Although unmoved at first, he would stiffen up as he observed the medic. She was acting strange.
A cold shiver ran down Vernard's neck. First the truck was strange, now his comrade was acting strange. Was this ominous presence contagious? He had to suppress the thoughts of chaos taint which was manifesting at the corner of his mind. He had to district himself.
Looking across the way, the cart owner looked like a good enough distraction. Vernard would wonder into the guardhouse, appearing a moment later with an old standard blanket. Walking over to the civilian, he would silently offer the blanket.
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Post by theredauthar on Aug 4, 2024 11:49:34 GMT -5
This was not what Treston had been expecting. Truthfully she thought the corporal would have just ‘signed off’ on the medical condition and gone in. Now that he’s offered, it would be improper for her to let the truck in without double checking.
Of course, that in itself was something Adela wasn’t sure she should be doing. After all, whatever mission they were on was kept very hushed up. Even a quick go over could potentially expose more of their “rogue psyker hunt”.
But then again, Blanks are entitled to all the benefits of a regular citizen or soldier. And it would probably help the others at the gate relax more if Treston checked them herself, rather than just sending the mystery truck through.
These thoughts take about 2 seconds to process through Adela’s mind. A slow response from a Mordian to be sure, as her default response should have been to fulfill her duty without hesitation. The complexity of this scenario was somehow both overly simple and frustrating at the same time.
Finally after what seems like an eternity in her own mind, “Per Mordian Regulation, I should check your passengers. Since the scanner picked up no abnormalities, a quick visual check should be sufficient. Truthfully though, the truck has made everyone jumpy. I’m hoping seeing me checking might relax my fellow guards.”
She makes a quick glance at Dekker by the heavy bolter and the Janissaries on the wall in case any are still waving their lasguns.
“Though we should be past the point of hostilities, so I wouldn’t need someone else if that would make things simpler.”
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Post by Fate's End on Aug 5, 2024 21:43:40 GMT -5
Ilona glanced towards the conversation between Treston and the jackass of a truck driver, the "apparent" (and patently "not" shiny) Lucifer Black. It didn't seem like her problem, and wouldn't be until someone started shooting or she could get back into the gatehouse and the meager warmth. Treston didn't seem . . . well, Ilona didn't know Treston, so she didn't know what she seemed like. But aside from the wrongness of the truck, Treston seemed suitably Mordian, so Ilona should be that too. Everyone suitably Mordian.
Except the non-Mordians.
But that wasn't the point.
Everything was nice and Mordian. Yes, that made sense.
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Post by LaxKnight on Aug 5, 2024 22:52:06 GMT -5
Vernard would finally start to stir as Adela marched back to the truck. Although unmoved at first, he would stiffen up as he observed the medic. She was acting strange. A cold shiver ran down Vernard's neck. First the truck was strange, now his comrade was acting strange. Was this ominous presence contagious? He had to suppress the thoughts of chaos taint which was manifesting at the corner of his mind. He had to district himself. Looking across the way, the cart owner looked like a good enough distraction. Vernard would wonder into the guardhouse, appearing a moment later with an old standard blanket. Walking over to the civilian, he would silently offer the blanket. The older man either didn’t notice or pretended not to notice the presence of Private Cudjal until he was about 10 feet away. When he did finally see the PDF Private though he’d greet him with a smile. “Thanks lad,” he said as he wrapped the blanket around himself. He took a moment to settle in and enjoy the warmth before taking a good look at Vernard and saying, “Didn’t know that had PDF as guard now, let alone tunnel catchers. You from the city, or a different one?” ((If you wish to recognize the man and/or the contents his wagon carries, you may roll Clever with a target of 3.))
Dekker can see the interaction but can’t hear what’s being said. Everyone else seems calm about it, though, so she’ll be calm too. Nice and calm, certainly no scratching noises on the inside of this skull. Everything is fine and normal. Prue swivels the turret back and forth a little, just to do something with the nervous energy pushing her to act. She fervently wishes there was something to shoot, that would cheer her up. Unfortunately for Specialist Dekker, there were no new targets. She would see Vernard go into the guardhouse to get a blanket for Rupert who was still by the broken wagon she helped push off the road earlier.
This was not what Treston had been expecting. Truthfully she thought the corporal would have just ‘signed off’ on the medical condition and gone in. Now that he’s offered, it would be improper for her to let the truck in without double checking. Of course, that in itself was something Adela wasn’t sure she should be doing. After all, whatever mission they were on was kept very hushed up. Even a quick go over could potentially expose more of their “rogue psyker hunt”. But then again, Blanks are entitled to all the benefits of a regular citizen or soldier. And it would probably help the others at the gate relax more if Treston checked them herself, rather than just sending the mystery truck through. These thoughts take about 2 seconds to process through Adela’s mind. A slow response from a Mordian to be sure, as her default response should have been to fulfill her duty without hesitation. The complexity of this scenario was somehow both overly simple and frustrating at the same time. Finally after what seems like an eternity in her own mind, “Per Mordian Regulation, I should check your passengers. Since the scanner picked up no abnormalities, a quick visual check should be sufficient. Truthfully though, the truck has made everyone jumpy. I’m hoping seeing me checking might relax my fellow guards.” She makes a quick glance at Dekker by the heavy bolter and the Janissaries on the wall in case any are still waving their lasguns. “Though we should be past the point of hostilities, so I wouldn’t need someone else if that would make things simpler.” Ilona glanced towards the conversation between Treston and the jackass of a truck driver, the "apparent" (and patently "not" shiny) Lucifer Black. It didn't seem like her problem, and wouldn't be until someone started shooting or she could get back into the gatehouse and the meager warmth. Treston didn't seem . . . well, Ilona didn't know Treston, so she didn't know what she seemed like. But aside from the wrongness of the truck, Treston seemed suitably Mordian, so Ilona should be that too. Everyone suitably Mordian. Except the non-Mordians. But that wasn't the point. Everything was nice and Mordian. Yes, that made sense. Dekker was being… Dekker; while there were no more Janissaries pointing rifles as they continued on stoically with their duty. Corporal Castillo would nod at her statement of intent of inspection. “Alright,” he’d wave at her to back up so he could get out. Once that was done and he got out, the undercover Lucifer Black would start heading to the back of the truck and talk with Specialist Treston, saying, “I get it though. Imagine having to drive the thing. Sadly can’t be helped most of the time due to… the nature of things. I’ve had worse responses than this, believe it or not.” Once the two of them were at the back of the truck Corporal Castillo would pause to see if anyone else was watching before whispering to Adela, “Do not mess with the bag.” Before the Mordian could ask for any elaboration the Lucifer Black did a special knock on the door before unlocking it and opening it just enough so Adela could poke her head in. It was dark so she’d have to use her light to see inside where immediately two Lucifer Blacks sat flanked at her sides. Unlike the plain clothed driver, these ones were in full black plated carapace armor with hellguns at their laps. Adela would see a void on the ground that was a black bag then see it was attached to a person who was bound to the bed of the truck by chains that gave an eerie aura. A glint of reflecting light would catch Adela’s eyes and she’d look up to finally see the abominations that were the source of the terror that afflicted the gate guards. Simply looking at them threatened to bring all those feelings of wrongness and dread the Mordian tamped down boiling back up. There were two of them clad in golden armor, wore purple cloaks, and were bald except one large tassel of hair on the top of their scalps. The one on Adela’s right had white hair, had white fur on her pauldron, a gorget covering her mouth, and a large sword in her lap. The one on the left lacked the fur and gorget, but her hair was a strawberry red and had a bolter on her lap. The Sister of Silence would look at Adela with her soulless green eyes, smile, and raise a finger to her lips to make a faint “shh” sound. The bound person would stir, causing the chains to rattle. They were clearly still alive, but the chains were such that no wounds stood out. Trooper Bembenek could see her fellow Mordian move with the “Lucifer Black” toward the back of the truck and crack it open for the Specialist to see in. Maybe she could take a peek as well… for safety of course. ((If Ilona wishes to peek what was inside the truck (without getting caught), roll with an appropriate Approach with a target of 4)) |
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quoth
Junior Member
Posts: 82
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Post by quoth on Aug 6, 2024 10:44:33 GMT -5
Dekker was on high alert as the driver gets out of the vehicle, but feels strangely better when she hears him acknowledge the aura of strangeness for the first time. She keeps the heavy bolter emplacement pointed halfway towards the truck, but relaxes her guard slightly. She notices Cudjal and the old farmer. He was still here? How long had it been? Prue goes to check her pocket-chrono before realizing that she didn’t know what time this started, so that wouldn’t be helpful.
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Post by hobbsy on Aug 6, 2024 17:27:12 GMT -5
"Born and raised locally." Cudjal replies in a voice only a little above a whisper. He looked over the man's barrels on the disabled cart. He had seen damaged barrels in the sewers before, these looked in a lot better condition though. Not wanting to go back to the oddity behind him, Vernard decided to attempt small talk to pass the time. "So. You're transporting booze?" he said to the stranger.
Vernard Cudjal, ever the diplomat.
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Post by theredauthar on Aug 11, 2024 23:53:48 GMT -5
Adela feels her breath catch in her throat. The Sisters of Silence, both awe inspiring and terrifying at the same time. There’s always been stories of those who fought alongside Astartes and Custodes but few ever have the opportunity and fewer survive.
There’s a brief moment of silence as she fishes out her Diagnosticator, before Adela states, “Just a quick scan. I don’t see any physical injuries, but if needed I can set bones or apply painkillers or antibiotics. If there are any ailments that you have received, now is the time to report them. Entry of the base while withholding knowledge of contamination by disease could have you charged with…”
Again she pauses, as she looks at the Sisters of Silence. It felt wrong to say this to them. They knew this was just militarum red tape. Some General’s excuse to pass blame down the chain when things go wrong.
…treason and/or heresy.”
She knew they wouldn’t answer. She didn’t expect them to. But still, saying the lines made her feel at least like she was doing something right. And it lessened the feeling that she was about to be dragged into the truck, either by the Lucifers or the Sisters.
She knows she should fear the bag in the center of the truck but it’s the Sisters she keeps glancing towards as she waits for the Diagnosticator’s final results.
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Post by LaxKnight on Aug 13, 2024 0:50:47 GMT -5
Dekker was on high alert as the driver gets out of the vehicle, but feels strangely better when she hears him acknowledge the aura of strangeness for the first time. She keeps the heavy bolter emplacement pointed halfway towards the truck, but relaxes her guard slightly. She notices Cudjal and the old farmer. He was still here? How long had it been? Prue goes to check her pocket-chrono before realizing that she didn’t know what time this started, so that wouldn’t be helpful. may not remember when the guard shift started, but by her best judgment it’s probably been a few hours at least. The sun was down after all. Seeing Cudjal with the brewer would bring up a brief memory that she overheard the Mordian medic promising to call Command to get someone to help the wagoneer out. Prue doubted her comrade ever got around to it since… the truck. Prue was technically the same rank as Adela too. If she cared, of course. The truck was still there after all so that might be a priority. You never know when something may burst out of the truck to eat her new Mordian friend.
"Born and raised locally." Cudjal replies in a voice only a little above a whisper. He looked over the man's barrels on the disabled cart. He had seen damaged barrels in the sewers before, these looked in a lot better condition though. Not wanting to go back to the oddity behind him, Vernard decided to attempt small talk to pass the time. "So. You're transporting booze?" he said to the stranger. Vernard Cudjal, ever the diplomat. The older man would lean close to hear Private Cudjal before giving him a nod. “Yeah, was taking it to Tavern’s Haven for the party tonight but then…” he’d give a light kick to the broken wheel. He’d sigh before looking back to Vernard. “You ever been?” he asked.
Adela feels her breath catch in her throat. The Sisters of Silence, both awe inspiring and terrifying at the same time. There’s always been stories of those who fought alongside Astartes and Custodes but few ever have the opportunity and fewer survive. There’s a brief moment of silence as she fishes out her Diagnosticator, before Adela states, “Just a quick scan. I don’t see any physical injuries, but if needed I can set bones or apply painkillers or antibiotics. If there are any ailments that you have received, now is the time to report them. Entry of the base while withholding knowledge of contamination by disease could have you charged with…” Again she pauses, as she looks at the Sisters of Silence. It felt wrong to say this to them. They knew this was just militarum red tape. Some General’s excuse to pass blame down the chain when things go wrong. …treason and/or heresy.” She knew they wouldn’t answer. She didn’t expect them to. But still, saying the lines made her feel at least like she was doing something right. And it lessened the feeling that she was about to be dragged into the truck, either by the Lucifers or the Sisters. She knows she should fear the bag in the center of the truck but it’s the Sisters she keeps glancing towards as she waits for the Diagnosticator’s final results. All eyes, even the soulless ones, fell on Specialist Treston as the Mordian medic explained herself and did her job. Even though Mordian steel was strong, it could still shake and she was feeling it too well. The red haired Sister seemed smugly amused when Adela spoke about being executed for treason and/or heresy but was cowed by a terse hand sign from the white haired Sister. The seemingly senior Sister continued to do more graceful hand signs, causing the redhead to adopt a more serious expression. It was like watching a duo of monsters playing silent harps with the movements both graceful and precise. The uncertainty of what was being “said” between them and the slow loading of the Diagnostor was agonizing, but eventually the two Sisters would finish and the redhead would look to Mordian and start signing in a way that was… extremely familiar to her. She signed, Do you know sign language?It was even in the Mordian variant. Almost as if on cue, Adela’s Diagnostor finally beeped, signaling completion. The only one with anything of note was the bound being who had contusions and less than optimal blood levels that signaled they got wounded at some point, but it was at acceptable levels and there was no sickness or poison in their system. It’d also indicate the bound being was abnormal, but in what way it said it needed a blood sample for a more precise diagnostic. As for Trooper Bembenek, perhaps ignorance was a special kind of bliss. Perhaps it was better to simply imagine what may be in the truck instead of actually knowing. It could be much worse than whatever she might have imagined. Thankful nothing else stood out as threatening to the Mordian. |
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quoth
Junior Member
Posts: 82
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Post by quoth on Aug 14, 2024 10:40:24 GMT -5
Prue jumps at the chance to be doing something and climbs down from the gun emplacements and scurries over to the gatehouse. She heads to the vox caster, trying to remember the code to call for assistance.
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Post by hobbsy on Aug 16, 2024 0:10:37 GMT -5
In all honesty, Vernard wasn't sure whether the man meant if he had been to the tavern or somewhere else. This shift was starting to take a toll after the earlier excitement. But the question was still easy enough for the PDF trooper to answer due to his circumstances.
"No. I only leave the sewers and lower areas for the few necessities that I can't get there. Lately, being in the PDF is getting towards the most time I've spent above ground." Vernard said.
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