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Post by hobbsy on May 5, 2024 3:37:52 GMT -5
Cudjal would lead the pair to the jailhouse, knocking on the door as he entered. He vaguely remembered something about someone else who would process people here. Hopefully this would be so, or he would have be the one one to find
a noble, commissar, officer or Munitorum official.
The first brought back the afterthought of the one who knew his name as she passed through the gate. He quickly dismissed any thoughts around that and nobles in general. He remembered the commissar at the start of the shift, but he was most likely checking defense and the integrity of those manning said defense. Best not to interrupt such work.
That left his hopes in there being an officer or Munitorum official in the building. Emperor mercy, may there be one ...
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quoth
Junior Member
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Post by quoth on May 5, 2024 16:31:38 GMT -5
Treston is a bit surprised that Dekker would offer to help. Not that she thought poorly of the other trooper, but rather she expected after their initial interaction, Prue would not think highly of her. Adela smiles, behind her scarf, “Yes, thank you. If we can’t get this cart moving, we at least need it off the road so that it can’t be used as cover by any hostiles.” She pauses before adding, “And if your regiment allows, the one called Penelope can offer you a sample.” Prue perks up at the mention of samples, producing a flask from her coat. She gives it a shake, then stashes it back and produces another, emptier flask. “Don’t mind a free sample, for sure.” After getting her semi-illicit booze, she sets her back against the stick cart and heaves, shifting the weight but not quite dislodging it. “I’m big, but not quite this big. Pitch in, luv, or will it muss your uniform?” |
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Post by LaxKnight on May 5, 2024 17:22:15 GMT -5
Cudjal would lead the pair to the jailhouse, knocking on the door as he entered. He vaguely remembered something about someone else who would process people here. Hopefully this would be so, or he would have be the one one to find a noble, commissar, officer or Munitorum official. The first brought back the afterthought of the one who knew his name as she passed through the gate. He quickly dismissed any thoughts around that and nobles in general. He remembered the commissar at the start of the shift, but he was most likely checking defense and the integrity of those manning said defense. Best not to interrupt such work. That left his hopes in there being an officer or Munitorum official in the building. Emperor mercy, may there be one ... The jailhouse was a simple yet sturdy building: dull brick with no windows and a door. Entering Private Cudjal would be greeted with a small room with a small overhead light. There was enough room for two chairs along one wall and not much else. There was a metal door with a slide window on the left that had a padlock. There was a stone counter with a window where one could see the metal bars laced in it. Behind the window he could see the round metal helmet, gas mask, and light brown trenchcoat typical of a Steel Legionnaire. His gas mask was sitting around his neck and his helmet had a few notable dents and a small image of a flame chipped in it. He seemed to be busy working on something on his side of the counter when the PDF trooper came in but looked up when the door closed. He had cardboard brown eyes and a scar over his left one. “Uh… can I help you?” he asked.
Ilona gave Prue a solemn nod, and then after a beat turned her attention back to the man and his . . .child. She allowed her hard eyes to fall just a bit and stare at the man with a cold expression. "No clue." she stated flatly, "Do you have ID or not?" As an afterthought, she asked "Your reason for entry is the temple, then?" The man was haggard to say the least. His skin was a bit dirty, brown beard and hair matted, and dull blue eyes. “Yes, yes. That’s it,” he said, “Let’s see if I still have it…” There was some brief shuffling before saying, “Here.” Trooper Ilona will have to look down to take the ID.
Prue looks around for something useful to do now, and spots the cart still stuck on the road. She give Ilona a tap on the shoulder and gestures at the cart, “I’m gonna go get that shifted.” She trudges over and looms behind Treston. “Need a hand with that?” Treston is a bit surprised that Dekker would offer to help. Not that she thought poorly of the other trooper, but rather she expected after their initial interaction, Prue would not think highly of her. Adela smiles, behind her scarf, “Yes, thank you. If we can’t get this cart moving, we at least need it off the road so that it can’t be used as cover by any hostiles.” She pauses before adding, “And if your regiment allows, the one called Penelope can offer you a sample.” Prue perks up at the mention of samples, producing a flask from her coat. She gives it a shake, then stashes it back and produces another, emptier flask. “Don’t mind a free sample, for sure.” After getting her semi-illicit booze, she sets her back against the stick cart and heaves, shifting the weight but not quite dislodging it. “I’m big, but not quite this big. Pitch in, luv, or will it muss your uniform?” The wagon may have seen better days, but was not stick cart. The kegs probably didn’t make things easier. Penelope did her best to keep the kegs from moving too much and potentially falling. “Hey, samples after help! I’ll fill it up if you get me a wheel though,” Rupert chuckled then said, “You don’t need to push it. Just need it held up while I lead the cows to pull it. I would do it but… yeah.” He rubbed his recently popped in shoulder. “Give a shout when you’re ready,” he’d say before he went to the front to get the reins for the long, orange haired cows, leaving Specialist Treston and Specialist Dekker alone at the side of the wagon. ((To accomplish holding up and moving the cart on your own, you need a target of 4. If Dekker and Treston work together they can both move it with no roll required from either.)) |
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Post by hobbsy on May 6, 2024 0:27:20 GMT -5
"Um, yes sir." Cudjal replied to what he hoped was an officer of some kind. "I've got two civilians here for you. One with an ID and one that needs one. If you don't need anything else I'll leave them in your care sir.".
Cudjal gave an Aquila salute in the vain hope the it would butter the potential officer enough for him to slip back out and return to his original duty.
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Post by theredauthar on May 7, 2024 0:58:09 GMT -5
After getting her semi-illicit booze, she sets her back against the stick cart and heaves, shifting the weight but not quite dislodging it. “I’m big, but not quite this big. Pitch in, luv, or will it muss your uniform?” “It will probably muss up my uniform,” Adela replies as she moves next to Prue, “But I already look like a mess, so I doubt that will make much of a difference.” “Give a shout when you’re ready,” he’d say before he went to the front to get the reins for the long, orange haired cows, leaving Specialist Treston and Specialist Dekker alone at the side of the wagon. ((To accomplish holding up and moving the cart on your own, you need a target of 4. If Dekker and Treston work together they can both move it with no roll required from either.)) Bracing herself, Treston looks to Prue, “Ready to lift at your command, Specialist.” |
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quoth
Junior Member
Posts: 82
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Post by quoth on May 7, 2024 8:40:52 GMT -5
“Careful, Mordian, you’re getting dangerously close to being a regular person.” Prue braces and gives Adela a nod, then pushes, holding the cart up for the driver.
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Post by Fate's End on May 12, 2024 23:44:46 GMT -5
Ilona glanced down just briefly enough to ensure she didn't drop the ID, intending to take it and back up a step to inspect it while also putting a bit of distance between she and the two travelers. "Wait here," She ordered, her voice sounding stern, even to her own ears. Mordian steel, apparently.
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Post by LaxKnight on May 13, 2024 1:32:03 GMT -5
((All at the gate can see this))From the guard house three Janissaries would emerge. They’d march toward the body of the runner, two troopers would lift the body by the arms while the third remained on guard, then wordlessly go toward the jailhouse. Any who dared look at them could see the hole in the corpse’s head and the feet dragging uselessly behind.
"Um, yes sir." Cudjal replied to what he hoped was an officer of some kind. "I've got two civilians here for you. One with an ID and one that needs one. If you don't need anything else I'll leave them in your care sir.". Cudjal gave an Aquila salute in the vain hope the it would butter the potential officer enough for him to slip back out and return to his original duty. The Legionnaire would unenthusiastically return Private Cudjal’s Aquila. He’d look back and shout, “Andrea! Not even 10 minutes!” He chuckled for a moment before returning his attention back to Vernard. “The Adept will process them in a moment,” he said. It was at that moment the door opened behind the PDF trooper. Four(ish) people would march in, making the small room fairly cramped. Seeing this, the Steel Legionnaire would frown before looking at Vernard. “Sorry. Got to take care of this. You gotta stay here and look after them,” he said before disappearing into an unseen door. Cudjal might have had a moment to see that one of the four newcomers had a hole in their head before the padlock would open and the locked door would open from the other side. The four people would walk in and close the door behind them before the clink of a lock was heard, leaving Vernard with the two civilians. He didn’t have to wait long though before a new figure would show up behind the window. He might have recognized her from either when he was issued his ID or roughly 10 minutes ago when she stood in line to get in. Adept Andrea still had the same dark ale skin, black hair, light gray Administratum robes, and tired expression of someone having to do their job on Candlemass and probably has done so several times. Regardless, she greeted him with a small, professional smile. “Greetings Private. Which one doesn’t have the ID?” she asked.
Ilona glanced down just briefly enough to ensure she didn't drop the ID, intending to take it and back up a step to inspect it while also putting a bit of distance between she and the two travelers. "Wait here," She ordered, her voice sounding stern, even to her own ears. Mordian steel, apparently. The brief glance was enough for Trooper Bembenak to catch sight of some tassels of brown hair and it didn’t take two guesses on who it was. “Okay,” was the simple response the man gave as the Mordian occupied her sight and attention to the ID. The ID was green. The name on it was Xavier Downton. There was N/A where his address was and the employer/sponsor Preach Helena Frigg. The picture wasn’t very far off from the man before Ilona; which made sense since it appeared the issue date was recent. On the back was the typical print, signature, and stamp of the Administratum verifying authenticity, but there was also another bit of print verifying that he was homeless ,yet had his purity tested and his ID was indeed sponsored by the Adeptus Ministorum. It was signed and stamped by Helena Frigg.
“It will probably muss up my uniform,” Adela replies as she moves next to Prue, “But I already look like a mess, so I doubt that will make much of a difference.” Bracing herself, Treston looks to Prue, “Ready to lift at your command, Specialist.” “Careful, Mordian, you’re getting dangerously close to being a regular person.” Prue braces and gives Adela a nod, then pushes, holding the cart up for the driver. As one, Specialists Dekker and Treston pushed the wagon up. The noise was enough to alert the driver for the duo heard a “Hep!” and the wagon slowly moved forward. With the two Guardswomen working together keeping it up and steady, it was easy work moving it off the road. It took a little over a minute before they heard a “Whoa!” and the wagon stopped. They had a brief moment of reprieve before Rupert approached them saying, “Thank you ladies. I believed I promised a sample?”
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Post by hobbsy on May 13, 2024 2:51:23 GMT -5
As the jail house filled and emptied in quick succession, Vernard had a sneaking fear that he was possibly going to be left baby sitting the hopeful pair. Thankfully the lady from the line before appeared for processing the outstanding issue.
"The lady." he said in his reality quiet voice while jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in her direction. He then shuffled out of the way and pressed himself against the back wall to they could commence organizing an ID. If he was feeling the Candlemas spirit, Cudjal might have even offered a prayer for the issue to be resolved quickly or even a hasty end to his shift. The evening had already begun to weary him out.
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quoth
Junior Member
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Post by quoth on May 15, 2024 8:11:24 GMT -5
Prue pushes back her helmet to wipe sweat off her forehead. “Well that’s my exercise for the day.”
She perks up when the wagoneer mentions her reward, and she pulls the empty flask out of her coat expectantly. “Can’t drink it till we’re off shift, of course, don’t want the commissar to get an itchy trigger finger.”
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Post by theredauthar on May 18, 2024 0:40:30 GMT -5
“Careful, Mordian, you’re getting dangerously close to being a regular person.” Prue braces and gives Adela a nod, then pushes, holding the cart up for the driver. Adela isn’t sure if she should take that as an insult or a compliment. Perhaps both. “I’m sure my superiors will love that,” she grunts as she helps lift and push the cart. As one, Specialists Dekker and Treston pushed the wagon up. The noise was enough to alert the driver for the duo heard a “Hep!” and the wagon slowly moved forward. With the two Guardswomen working together keeping it up and steady, it was easy work moving it off the road. It took a little over a minute before they heard a “Whoa!” and the wagon stopped. They had a brief moment of reprieve before Rupert approached them saying, “Thank you ladies. I believed I promised a sample?” Prue pushes back her helmet to wipe sweat off her forehead. “Well that’s my exercise for the day.” She perks up when the wagoneer mentions her reward, and she pulls the empty flask out of her coat expectantly. “Can’t drink it till we’re off shift, of course, don’t want the commissar to get an itchy trigger finger.” Treston removes her cap and uses the end of her scarf to wipe her own brow. She leans against the cart as she watches the Janissaries haul of the corpse of the runner. “They couldn’t come over and give us a hand then?” she snorts, “Fat lot of good they were.” |
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Post by Fate's End on May 20, 2024 0:16:41 GMT -5
The ID was green. The name on it was Xavier Downton. There was N/A where his address was and the employer/sponsor Preach Helena Frigg. The picture wasn’t very far off from the man before Ilona; which made sense since it appeared the issue date was recent. On the back was the typical print, signature, and stamp of the Administratum verifying authenticity, but there was also another bit of print verifying that he was homeless ,yet had his purity tested and his ID was indeed sponsored by the Adeptus Ministorum. It was signed and stamped by Helena Frigg. It seemed correct to the trooper, but she still leveled a glare at the man. "This allows you in. Where's the ID for the child?" She asked, staring hard at him. |
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Post by LaxKnight on May 20, 2024 2:01:39 GMT -5
As the jail house filled and emptied in quick succession, Vernard had a sneaking fear that he was possibly going to be left baby sitting the hopeful pair. Thankfully the lady from the line before appeared for processing the outstanding issue. "The lady." he said in his reality quiet voice while jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in her direction. He then shuffled out of the way and pressed himself against the back wall to they could commence organizing an ID. If he was feeling the Candlemas spirit, Cudjal might have even offered a prayer for the issue to be resolved quickly or even a hasty end to his shift. The evening had already begun to weary him out. Andrea gave him a nod before turning her attention to the couple. “Please step up,” she said, waving to them. The two of them would get up and start talking as they got Milly, the name of the woman, her ID. Private Cudjal probably tuned most of the tedium of the process out as they spoke about ‘sponsors’, ‘proof of address’, and whatnot. He probably lost track of time when the prison door opened and the Janissaries filed out, followed by the Steel Legionnaire, which probably roused him from his doldrums. If that didn’t then the man’s pat on the PDF Trooper’s shoulder did as he said quietly, “Thanks. You can go now.” If he looked at the clock, Vernard would find 5 minutes had passed.
It seemed correct to the trooper, but she still leveled a glare at the man. "This allows you in. Where's the ID for the child?" She asked, staring hard at him. The man, Xavier, would blink in surprise. “But… they said she didn’t need one,” he said, “And… and they let that woman with her children through while only looking at her ID.” He’d steal a glance backward, which if Trooper Bembenak followed she’d see it directed toward the Steel Legionnaire at the wagon, before looking back at her. “Did something change?” he asked.
Adela isn’t sure if she should take that as an insult or a compliment. Perhaps both. “I’m sure my superiors will love that,” she grunts as she helps lift and push the cart. Prue pushes back her helmet to wipe sweat off her forehead. “Well that’s my exercise for the day.” She perks up when the wagoneer mentions her reward, and she pulls the empty flask out of her coat expectantly. “Can’t drink it till we’re off shift, of course, don’t want the commissar to get an itchy trigger finger.” Treston removes her cap and uses the end of her scarf to wipe her own brow. She leans against the cart as she watches the Janissaries haul of the corpse of the runner. “They couldn’t come over and give us a hand then?” she snorts, “Fat lot of good they were.” Rupert would give Specialist Dekker a nod of understanding before taking her flask and filling it. How much attention he paid to Prue and Specialist Treston’s conversation wasn’t known, but it was enough to only step in once there was a lull. “Thanks for the help again ladies, but I got one last thing,” he said, “I’m gonna stay here to look after the cows and goods. Could either of you escort my wife in? Be a pain to be checked twice after all.” There was a pause before he looked at Adela to add, “And do you want some?” |
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Post by hobbsy on May 20, 2024 16:24:34 GMT -5
The tap was indeed necessary to bring Vernard out of his stupor. He sighed as he noticed the time that had passed. Time always went slower when you want it to pass. That's why he liked the sewers, no sense of time down there.
As he stepped out, he took a moment to take in the view and the weather. His comrades on guard duty were busy dealing with the last individuals at the gate while the snow gentle fell throughout the scene before him. He sighed again, his breath visible in the cold. At least the shift would end at some point.
With this, he strode out to a position between the two separate groups where he could cover them or simply deal with anyone else who approach the gate.
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quoth
Junior Member
Posts: 82
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Post by quoth on May 21, 2024 10:45:05 GMT -5
Accepting the filled flask, Prue glances at the farmer’s wife. “Escort where? We can’t leave the gatehouse. Well…” she looks around at the distance between themselves and the checkpoint. “Not far from the gatehouse.”
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