>>4878085
[X] Messenger

[X] Basic

[X] Excessive Curiosity
[X] Inspired Inappropriate Thoughts

whoops, fucked up the strikethrough formatting, could have sworn I did it that way recently.

>>4878085
>Rhea Silvia
>Clerk
>Not Assessed
>Excessive Curiosity
>Inspired Inappropriate Thoughts
>Naivety
>Nerves

>>4878120
Support

Also glad to see two new 40k quests. The more the merrier!

>>4878120
Support

>>4878105
There's no strikethrough on /qst/. Use this: https://www.piliapp.com/cool-text/strikethrough-text/

For those curious, Rhea Silvia was a Priestess of Vesta, and famously the mother of Romulus and Remus, the mythical founders of Rome, supposedly Mars (the god) was the father.

>>4878164
̶t̶e̶s̶t̶

-- Completed Form --

Congratulations Rhea Silvia!
You have been ̶p̶r̶o̶m̶o̶t̶e̶d̶ / demoted to the rank of ̶G̶u̶a̶r̶d̶s̶m̶a̶n̶/ ̶S̶e̶r̶v̶i̶t̶o̶r̶ / Conscript / ̶P̶e̶n̶a̶l̶ ̶T̶r̶o̶o̶p̶e̶r̶ as part of our initiative to reassign excess Departmento Munitorum personnel to the front lines for the Glory of the Imperium!
Fill out the below information to aid in your reassignment (information may be reviewed by your superior and/or Commissar):

Gender:
[ ] Male
[x] Female

Former Occupation:
[x] Clerk
[ ] Cook / Food Server
[ ] Medical Orderly
[ ] Menial
[ ] Messenger

Level of Combat Training:
[ ] Basic
[ ] None
[x] Not Assessed

̶R̶e̶a̶s̶o̶n̶(̶s̶)̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶P̶r̶o̶m̶o̶t̶i̶o̶n̶:̶
̶[ ] D̶i̶s̶p̶l̶a̶y̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶u̶s̶u̶a̶l̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶p̶e̶t̶e̶n̶c̶e̶

Reason(s) for Demotion:
[x] Excessive Curiosity
[ ] Inappropriate Piety
[ ] Incompetence
[x] Inspired Inappropriate Thoughts
[ ] Insubordinate Attitude
[ ] Insufficient Piety
[ ] Minor Criminal Infraction
[x] Naivety
[x] Nerves
[ ] Physically Inept
[ ] Tardiness

>>4878350

--- Imperial Logistics Base B - Ferry Harbor, Equatoria Province, World of Archipelagia ---

The clerk manning the booth at the departure desk doesn’t even look up from the form as he checks it over. You recognize him as Pter Solveson, you who haven’t seen in weeks, you briefly wonder if moving from the corpse-starch warehouse to the town harbor represents a promotion or demotion for him, before going back to panicking about the prospect of front line duty.

This isn’t fair!

How was I supposed to know that Intendant Primus Falconer hates it when people stare at his comb over?

Or that when Supervisor Karl invited me to his office to celebrate completing the paperwork for the shipment two hours early, he meant THAT sort of celebration?

And that thing with the forklift, totally not my fault, Tomish knows I panic easily, he shouldn’t have left me alone after so little training, particularly with three other forklifts in the warehouse making deliveries....

“Hey! What are you writing that for?” You exclaim.

Pter has written “STUPID”, “COWARDLY”, “SLUT” in giant capital letters on the form in red pen.

“Most grunts can’t read well, not even the officers” Pter says rather snidely.

“Now get in the line in front of Gate F, Welcome to the Guard”

Lines A to E are empty, but thirty or so people are in a single file line in front of Gate F. The last dozen or so are standing in the rain, since the open faced shelter covering the departure zone isn’t very big. You consider standing in one of the empty shelters in front of the other gates, but a few unfriendly looking troopers with shock poles are wandering about, so you grudgingly go stand at the back of Line F, in the rain.

Well, this is my life now, you think to yourself...
--- Two Days Later, Camp Xenos Purge, Equatoria Province, World of Archipelagia ---

The jungle camp is even closer to the equator than your former stomping grounds at the Logistics Base B. Located about two kilometers inland from the abandoned coastal town of Hannah’s Jetty, it is squalid, muddy, and humid. Prefab towers, garages, and a variety of tents serve as home to the roughly 300 men and women of G Company, 37th Activated Reserve Regiment.

Like its sister regiments, the 38th, and 39th, this regiment was cobbled together from Guardsmen separated from their own regiments by injuries or bureaucratic fuck-ups, unwanted support formations, conscripted Munitorum personnel like yourself, and even recruits from the local joke of a PDF.

You can’t help but notice that many are surprisingly well equipped for a mongrel regiment. On duty soldiers are wearing Cadian-Pattern body armor and carrying brand new Kantrael pattern lasguns. There are even a few assault pattern Taurox being used as perimeter patrol vehicles.

File: Commissar Trent.jpg (67 KB, 564x781)

67 KB JPG

>>4878458

The men and women themselves though seem poorly disciplined and unruly. Likely due to the crushing humidity, most are partially dressed, sometimes shockingly under dressed. Hygiene is also unusually poor, many look like they have been wearing the same clothes for weeks, and you suspect many would smell worse if it weren’t for the fact that it rained two days ago. More than a few seem intoxicated, and stop to jeer and shout at the new meat.

Despite the humidity, you find yourself missing your bulky Munitorum robes for the first time ever. The undershirt you were issued is two sizes to small, and rather transparent once soaked in sweat. Conversely, the trousers you were issued are two sizes two big, and ride scandalously low even though you pull them up every couple of steps.

You wonder if there is a Commissar assigned to this company, it seems unlikely.

But you are wrong.

The new recruits are led to a patch of mud and deep puddles that evidently serves as the parade ground. Greeting you is a youngish Commissar and a nervous looking junior aide.

Your knees grow a bit weak, and you start to hyperventilate at the though of being so close to one of these legendarily harsh disciplinarians. He circles the new group, glaring at each one in turn.

Somehow you end up being the last one he gives a check-over, and you feel a full-blown panic attack bubbling up in you as he spends considerable more time looking at you than the other recruits.

And then, unexpectedly, he breaks out laughing!

“Hahaha, you should see the look on your faces!” He booms.

“You will find, I am a bit different than other Commissars...”

“I believe in building people up, not bring them down...”

He pops a few pills from a bottle in his hand, you notice he aide wincing as he does this.

“Anyways, I declare that I, Commissar Trent...Trent, have declared that in this week leading up to the Holy Day of Candlemas, I declare that there will be celebrations, non-stop celebrating, so declare I, and my colleagues in the Ecclesiarchy, so go out and get drunk, I requisitioned enough alcohol for the entire regiment and then some!”

He pauses dramatically, everyone looks completely confused, particularly as Candlemas isn’t for months.

Commissar Trent Trent continues his rambling:

“In honor of the Saints, and in the spirit of team building, the Ecclesiarchy has given me some pamphlets to give to you, it tells you what Saint is your Patron Saint. Also, you can give you forms to Hiroka here, she will find some dumpster to put them in, from this day forth, you are all Guardsmen! Sins have all been forgiven! So says I, Commissar Trent”

Commissar Trent stops to pop some more pills.

>>4878474

>Ask Commissar Trent what is going on

>Grab a pamphlet, then sprint the fuck out of there before you lose complete control of your nerves

>Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then get back in formation and await further instruction

> Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>The stress is too much, tear up your form, through it in the air, yell “Party for the Emperor”, run off and get wasted

>>4878476
>Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>>4878476
>> Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>>4878476
>Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>>4878476
>> Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>>4878476
>The stress is too much, tear up your form, through it in the air, yell “Party for the Emperor”, run off and get wasted

>>4878476
>>The stress is too much, tear up your form, through it in the air, yell “Party for the Emperor”, run off and get wasted

>Basically since greentext stories and roleplay seem to be banned from /tg/ for the time being
>for the time being
Enjoy your stay it's forever.
Good luck though.

>>4878476
> Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>>4878476
>Grab a pamphlet, then sprint the fuck out of there before you lose complete control of your nerves

>>4878476
>Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

>>4878476
̶>̶ ̶C̶a̶l̶m̶l̶y̶ ̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶p̶a̶m̶p̶h̶l̶e̶t̶,̶ ̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶m̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶H̶i̶r̶o̶k̶a̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶d̶i̶s̶c̶r̶e̶t̶e̶l̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶k̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶g̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶n̶

Attempt the above. This may be a test to see who is willing to act inappropriate, but we are both naive and a nervous wreck, so...

>The stress is too much, tear up your form, through it in the air, yell “Party for the Emperor”, run off and get wasted

>>4878476
>> Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

So how far can we squirt?

>>4878474
>Ask Commissar Trent what is going on
Oh fuck oh god oh no

>>4878837
Greentext roleplays were never that popular to begin with on /tg/, between early 2020 and just last month there were basically none of note, and before that they were still relatively rare.

Most of my writing is for worldbuilding threads, which are still moderately popular there.

Mostly just want a chance to try a new format and use some old ideas I didn't get the chance to use on the last greentext thread because the thread was moving too fast, then got nuked.

File: Trooper Hiroka.jpg (179 KB, 1024x1479)

179 KB JPG

>> Calmly take a pamphlet, give your forms to Hiroka, then discretely ask her what is going on

Doing your best to quell your nerves, you “calmly” walk over to the Commissar, take a pamphlet, give him a polite nod, then walk over to Hiroka and give her your forms.

You are too nervous to make eye contact with the Commissar for more than a second, but you notice he is swaying a bit, and his eyes seem glazed and out of focus. Had he not been a Commissar, he would probably be handsome in a rugged sort of way, but otherwise fairly nondescript.

In contrast, Hiroka seems far too sharp and intelligent to be in such a lowly role. Although her posture is timid, and her manner polite, you had been around enough Auditors and Examinators to know when someone is seeing and remembering every little detail around them. Up close you notice she has a bit of an odd facial structure, and piercing green eyes. Humanity comes in all shapes and sizes, but you realize you haven’t seen anyone quite like her despite serving in an army group made up of regiments from twenty different worlds. Perhaps she is local, Archipelagia is more of a pleasure world than it is an agri-world. All sorts of odd racial stock and exotic abhumans are said to be found in the richer parts of the planet, not that you have ever seen them since you only ever get to visit the shittier parts.

As you hand Hiroka your forms, you lean in a bit, and whisper “What is wrong with the Commissar?”

Hiroka whispers back fiercely, “The Commissar’s problems are his own, keep asking questions and your are going to find yourself tied to that pole over there with pieces of your skull and brain scattered over a 10 meter radius. Now get back in line. Slut.”

Shocked by her intensity, you stumble back to the line of new recruits, tripping in a deep tire rut in the process.

Back in line, you notice the pole she had been referring to. You have been to enough Commissariat executions to know that it is roughly the right size for that purpose, and that a well placed bolt pistol shot can and often will cause a man (or woman)’s head to explode like a frag grenade.

You wait nervously for a few minutes, while everyone else grabs their pamphlets and hands in their forms one by one.
At the end of this, Commissar Trent tells everyone to go join the Candlemas festivities.

Apparently you are dismissed.

>>4879262

>Go try and figure out where your quarters are, it is hot outside, maybe it is better inside the tents

>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>Go find somewhere quiet and read the religious pamphlet, maybe it will provide some answers now that Hiroka has essentially banned you from asking questions on pain of death

>Go get something to drink and join the festivities, since that is what your last orders were, and Hiroka is watching

>Go get wasted, and try to forget about your encounter with Hiroka

>Go talk to your fellow new recruits, they seem just as confused as you, but maybe one of them has a better idea

>>4879264
>Go get something to drink and join the festivities, since that is what your last orders were, and Hiroka is watching

Yikes, wasn't expecting that. Well, orders are orders, and I won't deny a good time.

>>4879262
>>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>>4879264
>>Go talk to your fellow new recruits, they seem just as confused as you, but maybe one of them has a better idea
Time to inspire some totally appropriate thoughts

>>4879264
>Go talk to your fellow new recruits, they seem just as confused as you, but maybe one of them has a better idea

>Go talk to your fellow new recruits, they seem just as confused as you, but maybe one of them has a better idea

You go over and talk to your fellow new recruits. Already some of them are starting to disperse, while others are chatting in small groups. You go over and talk to Kristoff, Callia, and Namara, three conscripts (now full fledge Guardsmen apparently, at least if the Commissar is to be believed) who you befriended on the boat ride over.

Kristoff is the only new recruit you knew prior to conscription. A fellow clerk, you had sometimes dealt with him in the past when there was a discrepancy between the number of crates of corpse starch leaving your warehouse, and the number arriving at the ferry docks. Smart and observant, but not nearly as much as he thinks he is, extroverted, zero filter, and a bit of a creep, it is not hard to see how he rubbed people the wrong way within the typically grim and solemn Munitorum.

“So...Asking stupid questions again?” Kristoff had evidently noticed the confrontation with Hiroka

“Let me guess, you asked her about the Commissar, shit you are so dense, a lot of those Commissariat aides and lapdogs are super loyal to their bosses, few people can identify a loyal booklicker as easily as the Commissariat”

“I will tell you what is happening here, the Commissar is brain damaged, and his seniors either don’t care, or don’t know, and until they decide to sort him out, this place is fucking heaven!”

You aren’t particularly convinced that hanging out with 300 rowdy soldiers is “fucking heaven”

“So, uh, what should we do now?” You ask

“Get drunk” – Kristoff

“Get drunk, then get laid” – Callia

“That too” – Kristoff

“I don’t know, this all seems like some sort of elaborate trap” – Namara

Namara is a bit of an odd one, she probably joined your clique simply because it had a high man-to-woman ratio, and she is clearly uncomfortable around men. Apparently she is from some low tech world where part of the army group fought a campaign a few years back, but she doesn’t like to talk about it, or anything else for that matter.

“I mean, we were ordered to join the festivities, but I don’t think anyone would mind if we wander about the camp for a while first. I want to find the quartermaster, and get a shirt and pants that actually fit” – You say

“Now that would be a crime against humanity! I always knew you had a good figure under that clerk’s robe, but I never imagined... this...” - Kristoff

“Men only want one thing, and you have plenty” Callia agrees

>>4879678

Not that Callia seems like she would have a hard time getting laid, even with her boyish figure. The bastard daughter of an elderly Praetorian colonel assigned to the Tacticae, she apparently jumped between menial jobs for several years up until her father died and was therefore unable to bail her out of trouble anymore. She has already established herself as resident nympho among the new recruits, but seems to view you as competition for the “top prizes”.

Kristoff and Callia head off, apparently to go find alcohol whether you plan on joining them or not. Namara lingers behind, probably hoping you will come up with another course of action. In fact, you seem to be the only ones left on the parade ground, everyone else left while you were talking, including Hiroka and the Commissar.

>Go try and figure out where your quarters are, it is hot outside, maybe it is better inside the tents

>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>Go find somewhere quiet and read the religious pamphlet, maybe it will provide some answers now that Hiroka has banned you from asking questions on pain of death

>Follow Kristoff and Callia and join the festivities, safety in numbers

>>4879685
>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

I'd say safety in numbers and repeat my old vote to follow orders and go get drunk but Namara seems to want nothing to do with men, so I guess we may as well get some clothes that aren't either super tight or super loose.

>>4879685
>>Follow Kristoff and Callia and join the festivities, safety in numbers

>>4879702
>>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>>4879685
>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>>4879264
>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>>4879685
>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

>Go see the quartermaster and try to get some gear assigned to you, in particular, clothes that fit properly

After a bit of hesitation, you decide to go find the quartermaster.

“Come on Namara, let’s go see if we can get some basic gear assigned to us”

It doesn’t take too long to figure out how to navigate the base camp. It is essentially octagonal, with paths radiating from the center of the camp (home to the parade ground) like spokes on a wheel. The northern quadrant is dominated by a large bunker-like structure made of concrete slabs and steel plates. An array of steel antennas, dishes, and elevated decks protrude from the top, some of them over a hundred meters tall. Known as the “Comms Tower” it is a key part of this province’s vox network, as well as an important weather station. The large building at the base of the tower houses the company’s command bunker, officers quarters, main armoury, the operating rooms for the tower, housing for the civilian operators, as well as the main fuel and ammo storage dumps.

The eastern quadrant is the main living area for the common troopers. Known as the “Palace”, it is a tightly packed maze of barracks tents of several shapes and sizes surrounding a secondary parade ground and three large mess tents. In between the northern and eastern quadrants is the main road access into the base. Known as the “Driveway”, it is lined with storage sheds and vehicle garages.

The southern quadrant is known as the “Scrapyard”. Formerly another living area back when the base held several more companies of soldiers, it is now home to an alarmingly large cemetery, wrecked vehicles, empty pallets and crates, heaps of discarded ration tins and wrappings, as well as a number of outhouses and crude latrine trenches for when the base's septic system breaks down (which it apparently does frequently). In between the southern and eastern quadrants is “Main Street”, the location of a number of high traffic buildings including the chapel, medical tents, disturbingly underused shower blocks, and the morgue.

The western quadrant is simply known as the “Blood Works”. It is a largely open area containing a shooting range, fighting pits, and an empty field theoretically meant as a landing field for aircraft and small shuttles, but more often used for drills and high contact sports. You are not looking forward to the no doubt brutal hazing you will receive here. The southwest road is called the “Road to Nowhere” and no longer serves any real purpose in the base’s current layout. The northwest road is known as the “Back Alley” and runs in between the back of the “Comm Tower” and a tall fence separating it from the “Blood Works”. It contains very little other than a few loading docks, one of which has been converted to the quartermaster's office.

>>4880344

You find yourself walking along the “Back Alley” in order to reach the quartermaster’s office. The Back Alley is strangely empty, and you are disappointed, but not particularly surprised when a drunk lying down outside the office tells you the quartermaster has taken the rest of the day off to join the celebrations.

You try asking him who to talk to in order to find your assigned bunk, but like the other two times you asked that question today, the answer was some variation of “I will show you the best bunk in the camp”. You aren’t really sure what to do next, but you instinctively decide to head to a more populated part of camp. The male-to-female ratio in the camp seems to be at least 4 to 1, not that different than the Munitorum really, but the men here seem a lot more spirited... and drunk. Namara silently follows you, she hasn’t said much the entire time, though that seems pretty typical of her.

Lost in your thoughts, you are completely caught off guard when someone starts shaking the fence aggressively and shouting at you from the other side. You turn and see a large bald man carrying a combat knife in his left hand, and some pieces of paper in his right hand shaking the fence and yelling furiously.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU BITCHES!?! MORE WHORES?!? MORE CIVVIES!?! WE NEED NEED SOLDIERS!!! SOLDIERS!!!!!!”

Flicks of spittle fly from his mouth with every word, and the tendons and veins in his flushed face and neck bulge ominously. You decide there is little benefit to engaging this individual in conversation and walk a little faster, eager to get back to the center of the base, and out of the Back Alley, which is essentially a very long cul-de-sac surrounded by walls and fences on all sides.

“YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME WHORES!?! YOU THINK YOU ARE SMARTER THAN ME!?! I. HAVE. SEEN. SHIT. YOU. WOULDN’T. BELIEVE!!!!”

“BUT THE ANGEL OF VICTORY HAS SHOWN ME THE WAY!!! ONLY IN THE CHAOS OF THE BATTLEFIELD CAN ONE TRULY SERVE THE EMPEROR!!! SO SAYS THE ANGEL!! SO SAYS THE RED SAINT!!!"

He pounds his fist full of papers against the fence several times like he expects you to read them. You have no intention of getting that close to the lunatic, but somehow you have a feeling the papers were ripped from the pamphlet you received recently.

"GET BACK TO YOUR WORTHLESS PARTY, OR SCURRY BACK INTO YOUR PRECIOUS CONCRETE BOX WITH ALL ITS SHINY TOYS!!!! THIS TERRITORY BELONGS TO THE FOLLOWERS OF THE RED SAINT!!! THE TRRRUUUUUEEE SERVANTS OF THE EMPEROR!!! AND AFTER WE KILL ALL THOSE GREENSKINS, AND PROVE OUR TRUE WORTH, WE ARE COMING FOR ALL YOU LITTLE WHORES WITH YOUR MOANING, AND COGBOYS WITH YOUR PRECIOUS TECHNOLOGY.”

“WE. ARE. COMING. FOR. YOU!!!!!!!”

Thankfully the lunatic seems to have decided he has said his piece, and storms back towards the “Blood Works”, where a few soldiers are practicing wrestling and knife fighting.

>>4880353

You reach the center of the camp not much long afterwards.

The party seems to be going full swing now at the “Palace” but the other parts of the base seem fairly empty.

>Go find Kristoff and Callia at the Palace, safety in numbers.

>Go try and find a superior to report the incident to, obviously other than the Commissar or Hiroka

>Go find somewhere to read the pamphlet, maybe it has clues about what that whole rant was about

>Go get wasted, you have had enough stress for the day

>>4880356
>>Go find somewhere to read the pamphlet, maybe it has clues about what that whole rant was about

>>4880356
>Go try and find a superior to report the incident to, obviously other than the Commissar or Hiroka
Eh fuck you. Get your ass back there and break into the armory or whatever. We're getting clothes that fit, and maybe some guns.
Ask our friend for her thoughts and opinions. We gotta stick together like peanut butter and jelly if we want to walk out of this without STD's or a knife in the kidney.

>>4880479
Changing my vote to this. Let's arm up.

>>4880356
>>Go find Kristoff and Callia at the Palace, safety in numbers.

>>4880479
Supporting

>>4880479
Support.

waaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiitaminute the similarities are too much I KNOW PRECISELY WHAT THREAD THIS IS INSPIRED BY FOR FUCKS SAKE

>>4880686
You mean the threads OP linked when he started the qst?

Now hurry up and read the pamphlets! Which of the four saints do you want sign your soul to?

>>4880356
>>4880479
Supporting.

I'm suddenly convinced that this entire camp is actually secretly infested with chaos cultists of Slaanesh who have imprisoned a rival cult of Khorne.

>>4880686
>>4880738
Yeah, the basic plot pretty much exactly follows what happens in the threads I linked in the first post, so obviously don't read if you want to avoid spoilers

>>4880479
This is a bit too meta, Rhea Silvia is basically a glorified civilian who doesn't know much about what conditions are or aren't like on a front line base camp, she isn't going to go full rambo the minute things get a bit weird. It also isn't consistent with her personality so far, which is overly curious, and a bit prone to panic attacks, but generally rule-abiding.

>Go find Kristoff and Callia at the Palace, safety in numbers.

“Sorry Namara, I don’t want to wander the base anymore, clearly some people have had too much to drink, and all that stress and strain of being on the front lines is now pouring out. Let’s go find the others. Drunken men can be impulsive and unruly, but they won’t do anything quite that stupid when their comrades and officers are around.” - You say.

Namara doesn’t reply, she seems deep in thought. You are fairly troubled yourself. The encounter with the lunatic is an unwelcome reminder that the strain of combat can wreck the minds of even experienced soldiers. Suddenly the problems with Hiroka and the weirdness of the camp don’t seem that big a deal as you remember what you are here for, to fight, and likely die in the hellish jungles beyond the camp walls against the remaining Ork “Freebootaz” who have gone to ground in this area.

The party now seems to be full swing at the “Palace”, and you spend a while trying to navigate the maze of tents before finally finding Kristoff, Callia, and a few others hanging out in one of the smaller sleeping tents. There are many glass bottles of cheap, water-y beer scattered throughout the tent, enough for everyone present to have had 2-3 each. You figure that is enough to ensure most are either buzzed or mildly drunk. They seem to have run out of beer for the time being, and are smoking lho-sticks instead. You are a bit disappointed by this since the constant stress of the past few days is really wearing on your nerves. Although not particularly fond of drinking, you have sometimes done so in the past to help with your nerves, and if there was a time to get really drunk, it would be now. On the other hand, the people in the tent seem friendly enough, and some of them you don’t recognize, meaning they have been with the company longer and probably know all sorts of useful information.

>Go find more beer, you need to blow off some steam.

>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation.

>>4880909
>>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation.

>>4880909
>Go find more beer, you need to blow off some steam.

>>4880909
We are curious, but we also have bad nerves, a depressant could help with that.

>Go find more beer, you need to blow off some steam.

>>4880909
>>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation.

>>4880909
>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation.

>>4880909
>>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation.

>>4880909
>>Go find more beer, you need to blow off some steam.

>>4880344
>It is essentially octagonal, with paths radiating from the center of the camp (home to the parade ground) like spokes on a wheel.
gee, whatever could that mean

>>4880909
>>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation.

>Stay with the group, and try to get some useful information out of the conversation

You stay with the group and chat for an hour or two. The group switches back and forth between topics several times, so you end up with a mix of useful and useless information.

>On the topic of commanding officers:

- Captain Eleni Tywick has commanded G Company since the regiment was first founded several years ago on Damnatum Lutum. Like many members of the regiment, she likely worked for some rear echelon formation made obsolete by the massive front line casualties at Damnatum Lutum and the partial demobilization of the Cold Shoulder Crusade. Most figure she was either Tacticae or Intelligence. During the initial fighting against orks on Archipelagia, she was legendary for her fierce charisma and almost supernatural ability to predict the moves of the enemy, but lately she rarely leaves her command bunker. Rumor has it this current mop up operation is not seen as worthy of her full attention, and she is providing advice to Tacticae at army group level.

- Commissar Trent has always been a bit eccentric, taking the “nice Commissar” persona to unusual extremes, but lately he has been acting extra unusual. The consensus is that he has had a mental break and/or developed a drug dependency. Celebrations like the current “Candlemass” party have become increasingly common. Eleni used to shut these down before they got to out of hand, but lately she seems less and less concerned.

>On the topic of sex and drugs (which is what most of the conversation ended up being about, no thanks to Callia):

- Trooper Chad is commonly seen as both the most attractive male trooper in the company, as well as one of the more prominent drug and porn distributors. No one is quite sure how he pulls it off, since he is widely regarded as dumber than a rock. Probably has the second highest number of STIs in the regiment.

- Trooper Steve has the highest number of STIs, and is regarded as an all around creep. Pretty much any STI a person, animal, plant, or mineral can get, he probably has.

- Lt. Kayla Ryerson is usually seen as being the hottest woman in the company, despite not even being from the regiment. An aide to the Colonel of the 38th regiment, she is here in Camp Xenos Purge surprisingly often visiting Tywick for unknown reasons.

>On the topic of fighting:

- Despite its name, these days Camp Xenos Purge is more focused on protecting the Comm Tower than actually hunting xenos. However, a handful of ork freebootaz and gretchen still linger in the area, and periodically patrols are sent out into the jungle to keep them from establishing camps too close to the base. The patrols are mostly made up of the most hardened and experienced men in the company, which creates some tension between those that fight, and those that don’t.

>>4881422

>On the topic of the pamphlets:

- The pamphlets showed up about a few days ago, apparently sent by the local Ecclesiarchy as a moral boaster. Not every one in the room has read them yet, but those that have say the pamphlets tell the story of four Saints who found peace in the chaos of the battleground rather than the orderly life of an Imperial civilian. Some people think they are meant to reassure the new recruits that it is okay to embrace your emotions, show initiative, and channel your fury on the battlefield (particularly the messy process of jungle guerrilla warfare) rather than try to stick to the mindless obedience usually expected of an Imperial citizen or garrison trooper. There is even a section in the back of the pamphlet where you can fill out a multiple choice questionnaire, and find out what Saint you are most like. Most people who did the questionnaire found it harmless enough, but some people have been taking them a bit too seriously and have formed social cliques based on which Saint they were matched with.

>On the topic of bunks and equipment assignment:

- Discipline in the camp is pretty minimal thanks to Eleni’s disinterest, the Commissar’s borderline incapacitation, and disagreements between junior officers, most people bunk with their squad mates, but the last two rounds of reinforcements haven’t even been assigned to a squad yet, so they just sleep where ever they want. Even with the dismantlement of the tents in the southern quadrant, there is still room for nearly a thousand men in the “Palace” so many bunk tents are currently unoccupied.

- The quartermaster would rather spend his time pedantically checking and rechecking his inventories than interact with guardsmen. Good luck getting his attention without an officer or an NCO with you. You are better off trying to barter for a better uniform than waiting for someone to assign you a role that requires basic equipment.

You are thoroughly reassured by the fact that there are rational explanations to the unusual behavior you have witnessed so far, and more importantly that the prospect of being sent on patrol is relatively low. For the first time since being conscripted, you feel there actually may be some benefits to your new position in life.

>Go find some beers for your new friends, since you arrived everyone has been too lazy despite the fact that the nearest “bar” is only a short distance away

>Read the pamphlet, hearing about it has made you curious

>Try to haggle with your new friends for some basic gear

>Go to sleep, it is barely dusk, but all the sun, humidity, stress and excitement

>>4881428
>Try to haggle with your new friends for some basic gear

I don't care about getting a lasgun or whatever, I just want clothes that fit for fucks sake. We are not a slut damnit!

>>4881428
>>Go find some beers for your new friends, since you arrived everyone has been too lazy despite the fact that the nearest “bar” is only a short distance away

>>4881428
>Try to haggle with your new friends for some basic gear

Just get clothes please

>>4878350
A naïve, nervous female clerk with excessive curiosity, inspires inappropriate thoughts, AND in a shirt two sizes too small?
I'd want to recruit her for SLAANESH, but that would cause a TIME PARADOX!

>>4881585
Is that a reference to something specific?

>>4881379
I wasn't sure if I was being too subtle, or too obvious, I find people tend to take things at face value a lot on 4chan

>>4881600
>Is that a reference to something specific?
Not really, though I'd make sure the shirt is AT LEAST two sizes too small no matter what!

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>>4881600
>I wasn't sure if I was being too subtle, or too obvious,
it was just about right.

>>4881428
>>Read the pamphlet, hearing about it has made you curious

>Try to haggle with your new friends for some basic gear

Before the topic of conversation moves away from gear, you interrogate the people in the room about how exactly one “barters” for equipment.

“Sex for favors” is definitely off the table. You generally avoid those types of relationships when you can, they never end well. You also don’t really have any objects worth bartering. You let the matter drop for a bit when someone finally arrives with more beers. About an hour later when everyone is a bit more drunk, you stand up and declare you will pledge your “undying platonic friendship” to anyone who can help you acquire some basic gear. By this point everyone is best buddies with everyone else, so anyone who can think of a way to chip in does so.

Kristoff suggests that you switch undershirts with Callie, since her shirt is clearly too big for her. Naturally Callie takes off her shirt then and there, but much to the disappointment of some people in the room, you throw a bed sheet over yourself before switching shirts. Callie’s shirt fits you much better, and your shirt fits Callie much better (when she finally puts it on an hour later).

You get a copy of the Uplifting Primer from a competent looking soldier named James, a scalpel/shiv from a medical orderly named Trish, and an old canteen from a grizzled vet named O’Malley. No one seems to know what to do about the pants though. Eventually Namara (who hadn’t said anything for a while, and you assumed was asleep) offers to try to trim down your current set of pants. Apparently she was a tailor in a former life. You spend the next few hours chatting, drinking, and smoking with your new friends with a bed sheet wrapped around your waist while Namara slowly cuts away parts of your pants and sows up the remaining material (Trish “borrowed” some medical scissors, a needle and thread from the medical tent).

By the time your “new” pants are ready, the more experienced soldiers had gone back to their own tents for the night, and Callie had disappeared somewhere with a new recruit named Jack. Kristoff, Malcolm, and Niome are asleep in various bunks, it appears as though your clique has claimed this tent as their own.

Namara is the only one still up, but she seems to be reading through her copy of the religious pamphlet prior to going to bed and probably isn’t interested in talking. You are pretty tired yourself.

>Read the Uplifting Primer, might as well learn what you are supposed to be doing as a Guardswoman

>Read the religious pamphlet, it is probably more interesting than the Primer if nothing else

>Go to sleep, the lumpy, greasy mattress you have been sitting on all night feels more and more comfy by the minute

>>4881760
>Read the Uplifting Primer, might as well learn what you are supposed to be doing as a Guardswoman

>>4881760
>Read the Uplifting Primer, might as well learn what you are supposed to be doing as a Guardswoman
While some of their stuff is bullshit, they have some important information on our equipment and battlefield insignia and organization.

I still want to read the religious pamphlet too, though.

>>4881760
>>Read the Uplifting Primer, might as well learn what you are supposed to be doing as a Guardswoman

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>>4881760
>>Read the religious pamphlet, it is probably more interesting than the Primer if nothing else
Let the Saint of Happiness fill your head with pleasant thoughts before going to sleep...

>>4881760
>Read the Uplifting Primer, might as well learn what you are supposed to be doing as a Guardswoman

It has to be good for something.

>Read the Uplifting Primer, might as well learn what you are supposed to be doing as a Guardswoman

You lay down on your mattress, and pull out your Uplifting Primer. First you check if it is one of the new ones you heard about specific to the Cold Shoulder Crusade. It is. About 20 odd pages has been added to the end concerning the miracles on Stercus Ludicrum, Dominus Pillowus, and Damnatum Lutum as well as information on the Tau, Necrons, Dark Eldar, and the traitors dwelling in the Great Rift.

You decide to try reading the Primer cover to cover. The first section is for writing down your identification in case you die. Unfortunately you don’t have a pen. The next section is a short summary of the more important rules to follow as a Guardsman. Overall they seem similar to the rules governing the behavior of Munitorum drones. The penalties are harsh, but it was rare back at the Munitorum for even the harshest disciplinarians to follow the proscribed punishments literally. You doubt the Guard is different, in fact in this particular Company, you have a hard time seeing all but the worse infractions being punished at all! Get bored and flip to next section on standard issue equipment. There is probably no benefit to reading this until you actually get equipment. Chapter Three is also a bit of a slog, it starts of with generic information on typical ranks, structures, and organizations within the Guard that you are already quite familiar with, before moving onto map reading and basic tactics. With no real background on these topics, and already half asleep, you realize after a couple of pages you aren’t really retaining anything and give up.

>Read religious pamphlet, maybe it is more interesting

>Go to sleep, you are already have way there anyways

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>>4882051
>Go to sleep, you are already have way there anyways

>>4882051
Go to sleep, reading while drunk just makes eyes hurt.

Nice nailing the partying at a strangers place and guess you've got to be friends now vibe.

>>4882051
>Go to sleep, you are already have way there anyways

>>4882051
>Go to sleep, you are already have way there anyways

>>4882051
>Read religious pamphlet, maybe it is more interesting

>>4882051
>>Read religious pamphlet, maybe it is more interesting
Let the Saint of Happiness fill your head with pleasant thoughts before going to sleep...
Boing boing thoughts...

>>4882051
>>Go to sleep, you are already have way there anyways
no HERESY shall happen here

>Go to sleep, you are already halfway there anyways

You turn off the lights and go to bed.

When you wake up, the sun has already risen. Your half awake brain goes into overdrive. When was the last time you slept past sun rise? Are you late for work? Why are you in a tent? What the hell are you even wearing? You gradually remember that you no longer a clerk, that you were conscripted into the Guard, and that you just survived your first night in a jungle camp.

You realize that during your conversation last night, no one had bothered asking what the “normal routine” is for Guards(wo)men without an active role. Surely there must be some routine? No doubt even stricter than life as a Munitorum clerk? But as you look around the tent, everyone else is still in bed, fast asleep except for Namara, who is still looking at that damned religious pamphlet.

Ugh, that thing is barely 10 pages long, how interesting can it be?

You roll out of bed, pull on your pants (which fit much better now), socks, and boots, clip your canteen to your belt, stick the shiv in the canteen, and then shove the Primer and pamphlet into your pant pockets. You decide to visit the lavatory, find water, and get food, preferably in that order. Past negative experiences tell you it is usually a good idea to bring a buddy everywhere you go when in an unfamiliar area, so you grab the pamphlet out of Namara’s hands and tell her to get moving.

She is already fully dressed anyways. You briefly wonder if she slept in her boots or just never actually slept.

You realize you are being a bit rude, but you have a headache, are a bit panicked you may have missed a wake-up call and are about to face disciplinary action, and for some reason you still feel you are forgetting something important.

“Thanks for fixing my pants. Here is your pamphlet back, what is so interesting about it anyways?” - You ask.

“These Saints, they are all from my homeworld, see?” - She replies, holding open the pamphlet in front of your face.

You aren’t in the mood for reading right now, but you recognize the large illustration easily enough. Saint Victor Krump. The Holy Fury. The Angel of Victory. The Red Saint. You mentally kick yourself for not making the connection to the insane ramblings of the lunatic yesterday. Krump is a recent Saint, and a controversial one, from this very crusade in fact. He is one of four acknowledged Saints of the Cold Shoulder Crusade, an extremely high number for such a small campaign. It is said he was a Commissar of such righteous fury that he slew a whole army of heretics with naught but his bare hands in the City of Sodom. Strangely you can’t remember ever reading about what happened to Krump, or the world he fought on though it wasn’t that long ago. You do remember though that Krump was infamously disdainful of non-combatants and under performing soldiers, so you suppose it makes sense his followers are like minded.

>>4882379

The illustration of Krump in the pamphlet is a bit stylized, with a jutting jaw, beady eyes, and oversized fists that made him look more like a flying ork than anything. You have also never seen him depicted with knifes before. But the deprived looking woman whose face he is about to crush does look a lot like Namara, the same race of human at least.

“So, are all the Saints from the Cold Shoulder Crusade?” - You ask Namara.

“No just him, the others are much older” – She replies.

She flips through the pages and shows you pictures of the other three Saints and briefly explains how each fit into the history of her world. You have never heard her talk this long, which distracts you from what she is actually saying. You are also distracted by the images of the old man with the book, and the androgynous youth being carried aloft by a cheering crowd. For some reason you have a feeling they appeared in the nightmares you had last night, which you are only now just remembering even occurred.

During her spiel, you reach the nearest set of lavatories, but surprise, surprise, the septic system is down again. You do a long detour to the latrine trenches in the southern quadrant, which both reek horribly, and completely lack privacy, but luckily the base seems almost empty. There are some men training in the Blood Works, and a few entering and leaving the Comms Tower and buildings on Main Street, but it appears that most folk are still asleep.

Next you go to the shower block and use it to fill your canteen. Although you desperately want to shower, you would rather not have someone show up once you get started. Perhaps there are rules governing who uses the shower when.

You then head back to the Palace, weaving your way through the maze of smaller tents until you reach the secondary parade ground bordered by the three large mess tents. Sure enough, you can hear snoring in several tents, and more than once have to step over passed out drunks.

It seems like it is corpse starch for breakfast (probably lunch and dinner too) but you don’t mind. You realize you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning on the ferry. Callie and Jack come join you. They both have a post-coital glow to them, leaving no doubt what they were up to last night (and likely this morning too). A bit jealous that Callie got something out of sex other than lingering regret and shame, you try to gross them out with facts about corpse starch. Having both worked in a corpse starch factory as a youth back on your home world, the wretched Munitorum supply world of XV-88, and later as a clerk who helped process Munitorum shipments, you know more than a few disturbing facts. However, they both seem unfazed (though Namara stops eating early in the story).

>>4882390

For the rest of the day, you alternate between chatting in your clique’s tent, and chatting at the mess hall. Although you do your best to downplay your fears, there is no doubt the camp is even more strange today than it was yesterday.

More and more people are joining cliques (mobs more like) based around the different Saints. Some of them have been marking themselves with paint and markers to make it extra obvious where their allegiances lie.

The followers of the Red Saint have been marking themselves with red. You have an unsettling suspicion that some of the red is in fact blood. They are rowdy, often armed with knifes, makeshift clubs, and even a few lasguns, and are prone to hitting and slashing at objects and each other. Most people are avoiding them when they can. It seems like only a matter of time before they start attacking the other groups. For once in your life, you would be glad to see a Commissar if it would help sort out this nonsense, but the last time you saw the Commissar and Hiroka was around noon, and back then they were going around handing out pamphlets.

Another group is marking themselves out in blue, but in more sophisticated patterns. This group seems calm and rationale. Rumor has it that this group is favored by the Captain herself. Lieutenant Trasker seems to be in charge, and anyone who shows him they filled out the pamphlet’s questionnaire the “correct way” is being sent to the Comms Tower, though he has a reasonable sized group of armed men accompanying him, perhaps to keep the followers of the Red Saint from interfering with his operation. There would probably be a lot more people joining the blues, or “Followers of the Architect as they call themselves if it weren’t for the fact they are so damned picky. Only people who fill their pamphlet to Trasker’s satisfaction are accepted, and many people who seem sure they will be accepted are turned away.

The largest group are the followers of the “Happiness Angel”. Some of them have tried marking themselves with pink or purple, but most just seem to be milling about confused in small groups. It is hard to tell the difference between them and the remaining social cliques who are unaffiliated with any of the Saints. There seems to be a small core group forming a few tables down from yours though. You see Trish and Niome with them.

The followers of the “Nature Angel” seem to be the smallest group. They have picked green as their color. Not sure what their deal is, but they seem to be lead by some morbidly obese and rather unhinged looking cook with a missing arm and a missing eye. Malcolm seems to have joined them, but you never liked Malcolm much, and the group seems secretive and close-knit.

>>4882399

By supper time, the tension seems to be near the breaking point. Most of the camp is finally awake, and most of them have congregated in one of the mess tents. Few people are not clearly affiliated with one of the four factions, and both the “Red Saints” and the “Architects” seem nearly as hostile to unaffiliated personnel as they are to each other. Namara disappeared at some point so you eat dinner with Kristoff, Callie, and Jack. By now, all three had filled out the questionnaire in the pamphlet.

Callie and Jack got “Happiness Angel” and they want to join the group of Happiness Angel followers to your right (the only group in this mess tent, but you can see several larger groups in the other mess tents). The “Happiness Angels” seem alright, Trish and Niome have rejoined that particular band of them, as well as three friendly-ish troopers you met earlier in the day; Kyle, Carol, and Greg.

Kristoff got the Architect, but he seems nervous of approaching Trasker himself in case he gets rejected. It is easy to see why, the “Architects”, previously fairly disciplined, have become unruly; mocking, taunting, and laughing at any who try to join their group but are unsuccessful. He urges you to fill out the questionnaire, confident you will be a fellow “Architect”, but something about the pamphlet unsettles you, probably your dreams from last night.

>Go sit with the “Happiness Angels”, safety in numbers

>Try to fill out the questionnaire, it doesn’t look like you will be able to remain neutral for much longer

>Read the front section of the pamphlet, something really weird is going on here. If nothing else, it is probably important that you get a feel for the four factions sooner rather than later

>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>>4882390
>you try to gross them out with facts about corpse starch
Kek, that sort of autism reminds me of my highschool gf

>>4882403
>>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet
>Bring Kristoff (and Callie and Jack if possible) with us when we look for her

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>>4882403
>>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>>4882403
>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>>4882403
>>Go sit with the “Happiness Angels”, safety in numbers

>>4882403
>>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>>4882403
>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet
Let's stick with her for now, I have a bad feeling about these cliques

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>>4882600
if only kou knew, anon

>>4882403
>>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>>4882403
>Read the front section of the pamphlet, something really weird is going on here. If nothing else, it is probably important that you get a feel for the four factions sooner rather than later

>>4882403
>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>>4882403
>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

>Go find Namara, you have a feeling she knows more than she has said so far, and besides, she may be the only remaining person you know who hasn’t picked a side yet

You leave the mess area and wander about the camp for about an hour trying to find Namara. Callie and Jack go sit with the Happiness Angels, and Kristoff joins them, unwilling to face Trasker alone. Despite extensive searching, there is no sign of Namara, but plenty of signs that conditions in the camp are continuing to deteriorate. Theft and vandalism are increasingly common. A couple of “Nature Angel” followers are dismantling the outhouses and latrine trenches in the southern district. In the Blood Works, several followers of the Red Saint are stockpiling crates of seafood and fresh game stolen from the warehouses, and followers of the “Happiness Angel” are everywhere in the “Palace”, vandalizing tents and stockpiling “supplies” mostly booze.

Suddenly, you hear some lasgun fire from the mess area.

Instantly the “Palace” seems far more crowded than usual, as some people flee the vicinity of the shooting, while other people head towards it. In the narrow maze-like pathways that thread through the “Palace” there is now little space to move and you get knocked down by crowds twice as you try to relocate to somewhere less crowded. Eventually you spot a tent flap in the confusion and go inside. It is one of the smaller models of bunking tent, and it is currently empty, which is fine by you, since it gives you time to think.

>Lie low for a bit, maybe things will settle down

>Try to find some people you know, now doesn’t seem like a good time to be on your own

>Head away from the shooting, once you get to a safe distance maybe you can find someone who knows what is going on, or better yet, take charge of the situation in a rationale fashion

>>4883647
>Lie low for a bit, maybe things will settle down

I don't wanna be out in the open while there is fighting going on, plus I'm tempted by the lone woman in a horror movie trope. Plus, out of character it is pretty obvious now what is going on even without having read the linked threads from the first post, I'd rather not join up with our friends who seem to have found their cliques among the chaos groups.

>>4883647
>>Head away from the shooting, once you get to a safe distance maybe you can find someone who knows what is going on, or better yet, take charge of the situation in a rationale fashion

>>4883647
>Lie low for a bit, maybe things will settle down
>>4883670
that seems relatively safe to say. Rhea is a bit naive but she isn't stupid. (i think)

>>4883647
>Try to find some people you know, now doesn’t seem like a good time to be on your own
Try to form our own group.

we know this is chaos but IC we are clueless and need guns and people to get away from this madness

>>4883647
>>Try to find some people you know, now doesn’t seem like a good time to be on your own

>>4883647
>>>Try to find some people you know, now doesn’t seem like a good time to be on your own

>>4883647
I vote for staying put for now.

>Try to find some people you know, now doesn’t seem like a good time to be on your own
>Lie low for a bit, maybe things will settle down
>(tie)

Worried about being caught by yourself if whoever is shooting starts searching the smaller tents, you decide to relocate to the tent you slept in last night, hoping someone else would perhaps have the same idea. Sure enough, Callie is already there, looking rather tearful. You asked her what is going on, but she doesn’t know much. Apparently after you had left to go find Namara, tensions had escalated further. Several fist fights and brawls had broken out between and within the various factions in the mess area. Just when things seemed to be getting back under control, someone at one of the few remaining “neutral” tables opened fire on his squad mates. This triggered a bit of a tussle between the followers of the Red Saint and the “Architects” which some neutral guardsmen tried to break up. However, this only seems to have escalated things, and some of the Red Saint followers began opening fire on brawlers and bystanders indiscriminately. Most people, including Callie, fled the area at this point. During the chaos she decided to come to this tent in hopes others would think of the same thing.

Your brain goes into overdrive as you try to think through the possibilities of what is going on. Clearly the teachings of the Red Saint aggravated tensions between those doing most of the fighting, and those who rarely leave base. You wonder what the goals of the other three factions are. Perhaps the Architect is attracting those hoping to ride Captain Tywick’s coattails to a better posting, while the Happiness Angel appeals to burn outs and conscripts who just want to party hard and forget about tomorrow.

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to lie low in you current location in hopes that more of your friends arrive.
Eventually Jack also arrives, bearing less than ideal news. During the confusion, he followed some more experienced soldiers as they made a run for the main gate. The soldiers were cut down by some Red Saint followers, but he thinks a few others escaped in vehicles. Jack himself barely avoided being gunned down by diving behind some crates last second. The Red Saints later withdrew to the Blood Works, probably to consolidate their numbers with the mob you saw there earlier. Jack saw Kristoff accompanying a few Architects to the Comm Tower, but hasn’t seen anyone else you know since the shooting started. Now that the Red Saints and Architects have left the “Palace”, it seems the followers of the “Happiness Angel” control this area by default, no one has seen any followers of the “Nature Angel” for a while.

>>4884265

It is highly unusual that veteran soldiers would try to desert, but something has clearly gone very wrong at the camp. You have had your fair share of run-ins with insane religious types, but most of them had been indoctrinated from a young age, or by extremely charismatic preachers. Even accounting for existing tensions in the camp, it seems odd that things have fallen apart so easily.

You wait for a while longer, but no one else comes, and the tension starts to wear on your nerves badly. Besides, you haven’t heard any shooting for a while.

>Head to the main gate, apparently at least some experienced soldiers decided that deserting is their best option (though some of them are dead already as a result)

>Try sneaking out the southeast gate, may it is less guarded

>Try to find a leader among the “Happiness Angels” of all the factions they seem to be the most reasonable so far

>Go talk to the company preacher, if anyone can provide insight into religious matters, it would be him, and he seemed reasonable enough when you briefly met him at lunch

>>4884266
>>Try sneaking out the southeast gate, may it is less guarded

>>4884266
>Go talk to the company preacher, if anyone can provide insight into religious matters, it would be him, and he seemed reasonable enough when you briefly met him at lunch

>>4884266
>Try sneaking out the southeast gate, may it is less guarded

>>4884266
In her place, I would try the gate, but information is power. Hopefully the preacher has realized what is going on and can fill her in. Then we sneak out, and try to link up with loyalist elements.

>>4884266
>>Try sneaking out the southeast gate, may it is less guarded

>>4884266
>>Go talk to the company preacher, if anyone can provide insight into religious matters, it would be him, and he seemed reasonable enough when you briefly met him at lunch

>>4884266
>>Try sneaking out the southeast gate, may it is less guarded

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>Go talk to the company preacher, if anyone can provide insight into religious matters, it would be him, and he seemed reasonable enough when you briefly met him at lunch
>Try sneaking out the southeast gate, may it is less guarded
>(tie, at least it was when I started writing this section)

“Fuck this, we can't hide out here for ever” – You announce, standing up suddenly

“Where are you going?” – Asks Callie

“I don’t know, maybe we can visit Preacher Richter, religious stuff should be his specialty” – You reply

No one seems to have a better idea, so they reluctantly follow you as you leave the tent.

The “Palace” seems to have gotten even weirder in the hour or so you have been lying low in your tent. Many people are under or undressed, and they seem to be focused on running about bringing booze, packages of illicit drugs, and pieces of stolen equipment to the mess area. You assume most if not all of them are followers of the “Happiness Angel”. Callie and Jack look like they want to go join the party, but they seem to snap out of it when you start pulling them along behind you.

You make your way to the center of the camp.

From here you have a pretty good view of the other quadrants, though it is pretty dark out, and several of the flood lights illuminating the camp seem to have been shot up or stolen. The “Blood Works” seems empty, you briefly wonder where all the Red Saints went. In the southern quadrant you can see some figures climbing in and out of the latrine trenches. Why?!? There is also something very weird going on at the Comm Tower. You can’t bear to look at it for more than a few seconds, it is almost like reality is warping around it.

There is a dead Red Saint with a lasgun lying near the execution pole. You muster your nerves and timidly roll over his corpse to take the gun. You know you are breaking all sorts of rules doing this, but it is not like anyone seems to care anymore. The top half of his head has been burned off by high power lasfire. You almost throw up.

Carrying your new lasgun (likely improperly) you lead Callie and Jack down Main Street, which is ominously empty and unlit. There are at least two more bodies on the road, but you don’t stop to check who they are. The doors to the chapel are wide open and you can hear struggling and grunting inside. It take time for your eyes to adjust to the gloom, and even longer for you to process what you are seeing. Two soldiers are trying to pin a woman down on top of the altar table, while Preacher Richter holds an elaborate looking dagger up in the air. The woman has a sack on her head, but judging by the clothes and darker skin complexion it is probably Namara.

Your brain tries to sort things through.

This looks like some sort of pagan sacrifice.

Taking place in an Imperial Chapel.

By an Imperial Preacher.

What?

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>>4887604

Richter seems to only notice you now despite the fact you have walked well into the chapel trying to see what is going on.

He pauses for a while, almost as if he is trying to think of an explanation.

Then he hisses something at one of the soldiers, who pulls out a sidearm.

Panicked, you squeeze the trigger of your lasgun, which was apparently left on high power, full auto, sending a long volley of blinding shots towards the altar.

Somehow you avoid hitting Namara, who rolls off the altar and scrabbles away blindly before falling down the stairs leading to the altar.

Callie screams, and you turn to see that Jack has been shot in the head, apparently the soldier with the sidearm got at least one shot off that you didn’t notice while blinding and deafening yourself hosing the three men with lasfire.

Callie turns and runs, you briefly try and stop her before you realize you don’t know whether all the men are dead or not. You weren’t really aiming you lasgun while shooting, and you have no idea whether you hit anything, though there is two prone figures visible, one of whom is Namara. You fire at the other prone figure three times (missing at least once) before carefully advancing towards the altar.

Behind the altar, the other two seem very much dead. Preacher Richter’s face, so kind when you talked to him this afternoon, seems more confused than anything. The other man don’t even have a face anymore thanks to your wild shots.

This time you throw up.

It takes some time to come to your senses and realize other hostiles could be about.

You straighten up and take stock of your surroundings.

There are a large number of smoking holes burned in the back wall of the chapel. Two lasguns are leaning up against a table covered in small candles, no doubt belonging to the two soldiers you just killed. Namara is no longer where she had fallen, but the sack is still there, apparently she belatedly realized there is nothing preventing her from taking it off. You barely manage to force yourself to look at the corpses. You don't recognize the two soldiers, and there are no visual indications that any of the three are members of any of the four factions causing havoc at the camp.

You grab another lasgun and call out for Namara to come out.

She recognizes your voice and comes out from under the pews where she was hiding.

You give her the other lasgun, but then become overwhelmed by the situation and sit on the stairs leading up to the altar for a while.

Eventually Namara speaks, “We have to get out of here”

“What did you do? Why were they trying to kill you?” - You whisper

“We have to leave, there is a Taint here” - She insists

“That is impossible, this is a chapel, A CHAPEL, it is sanctified, this can’t be happening, this is impossible” – You hear yourself says as your brain struggles to deny the obvious

>>4887618
>>4887604
Yay!

>>4887618

“The Taint is everywhere, this whole base, We. Have. To. Leave.” - This time she tries to pull you out of your sitting position, but you refuse to move

“No, that is desertion, we will be shot, at the execution pole, there has to be an explanation for this” - You say, but you can’t think of what could possibly explain this. You have heard of the Taint, and the Corruption of the Dark Powers, every Imperial citizen has, but that sort of stuff only happens to the weak and the degenerate, this is an Imperial temple, Richter was an Imperial Preacher, and those damn pamphlets bore the markings of the Ecclesiarchy and were being handed out by Imperial officers, including a Commissar.

“You know what you saw just now” – Namara says simply, then hangs her lasgun over her shoulder so that she can drag you upright with both hands, waiting a bit so you can pick up your own lasgun, then pushes you repeatedly until you are walking out of the chapel on your own accord, more or less.

“We need to go find Callie” – You say

“We need to get out of here before we are Tainted also” she replies

Namara pushes you again, this time in the direction of the southeast gate. You feel incredibly selfish and cowardly leaving without even attempting to find Callie, but due to your own indecision combined with Namara’s surprising new assertiveness, you find yourself cautiously approaching the southeast gate.

The pile of bodies at the base immediately alerts you to the fact that you are probably not getting out that way. The gate has been sealed with soldered strips of steel and the hinges have been melted in place, probably via careful application of blowtorch or lascutter. Most of the bodies look like they were shot from behind while trying to get out by the gate, several bloody hand prints show how some spent their last moments pawing hopelessly at it.

The walls of the camp are at least six meters high, and the towers that overlook them nearly twice that. Climbing the towers and jumping over the wall will result in some broken ankles or shins at minimum, assuming you don’t get caught in the dense loops of razor wire at the top of the walls. Aside from the main gate, the southeast gate is the only entrance/exit to the base you know of.

Realizing you broke several major rules and crossed several moral boundaries for nothing, you give out a long scream of despair and punch the gate repeatedly until Namara stops you.

She shushes you loudly, but then says nothing as you calm down. She looks as panicked as you are feeling, and appears to be out of ideas.

You have always been good at observing things and remembering things that others have not. You focus your breathing, and try and calm yourself and suppress the overwhelming urge to panic.

>>4887624

>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.

>The main gate could still be open, but you know “deserters” have been shot there too, some may have escaped in vehicles, maybe you can steal a vehicle, assuming there are any left, and your driving skills are rudimentary at best.

>The followers of the “Happiness Angel” seem to be the most harmless of the factions so far, perhaps you could blend in with them until they leave the base (if they leave the base), also a good chance to look for Callie, Niome, or Trish, who could still be in the vicinity of the “Palace”. You worry that you may risk getting Tainted if you hang out there too long though.

>>4887629
The main gate could still be open, but you know “deserters” have been shot there too, some may have escaped in vehicles, maybe you can steal a vehicle, assuming there are any left, and your driving skills are rudimentary at best.

>>4887629
>>The followers of the “Happiness Angel” seem to be the most harmless of the factions so far, perhaps you could blend in with them until they leave the base (if they leave the base), also a good chance to look for Callie, Niome, or Trish, who could still be in the vicinity of the “Palace”. You worry that you may risk getting Tainted if you hang out there too long though.

>>4887629
>The followers of the “Happiness Angel” seem to be the most harmless of the factions so far, perhaps you could blend in with them until they leave the base (if they leave the base), also a good chance to look for Callie, Niome, or Trish, who could still be in the vicinity of the “Palace”. You worry that you may risk getting Tainted if you hang out there too long though.

pull our friends out of there at gunpoint if we have to, this will be the last time we try gathering people and friends we know and trust. Tell them to meet at the scrapyard if we get separated.

>>4887624
I mean, we have two, maybe three lasguns. Can't we melt the hinges and steel stripes ? But I agree we should go to the scrapyard if that's not possible. Maybe we can find a ride there also ? I would rather not get pursued by khornate cultists in scrap buggies while on foot, frankly.

>>4887629
>>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.

>>4887629
>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism

>>4887629
>>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.

>>4887629
>>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.

>>4887629
>The followers of the “Happiness Angel” seem to be the most harmless of the factions so far, perhaps you could blend in with them until they leave the base (if they leave the base), also a good chance to look for Callie, Niome, or Trish, who could still be in the vicinity of the “Palace”. You worry that you may risk getting Tainted if you hang out there too long though.

>>4887629
>>The followers of the “Happiness Angel” seem to be the most harmless of the factions so far, perhaps you could blend in with them until they leave the base (if they leave the base), also a good chance to look for Callie, Niome, or Trish, who could still be in the vicinity of the “Palace”. You worry that you may risk getting Tainted if you hang out there too long though.

>>4887629
>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.
Alternately could we get down the walls/towers with a rope?

>>4887629
>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.

Thanks for your replies so far, I will write the next segment after work

I didn't spend a lot of time describing the bases defenses, but in response to >>4887717 and >>4888069:

- The southeast gate is smaller than the main gate, but still big enough for a vehicle to squeeze through. It has two doors made of steel 2-3 inches thick that swing inwards, and is locked by barring the door with large thick strips of steel that are inserted into dedicated slots. Those strips are now melted into place, and the door's hinges have also been rendered inoperable. Pretty much the only way to get through is to cut your way through.

- The walls are made of pre-fab concrete slabs about half a meter thick and six meters high. They are not meant to have people walking on the top as thick coils of razor wire cover both the top, as well as project outwards 2 meters or so on a metal framework to discourage infiltrators from climbing over the wall to get in. The towers are 10-11 meters tall and are freestanding, located just within the walls. Dangling a rope from the tower won't work as it would just end up in the razor wire.

>>4887629
>>The followers of the “Happiness Angel” seem to be the most harmless of the factions so far, perhaps you could blend in with them until they leave the base (if they leave the base), also a good chance to look for Callie, Niome, or Trish, who could still be in the vicinity of the “Palace”. You worry that you may risk getting Tainted if you hang out there too long though.

>The southern quadrant has a vehicle scrapyard, you have seen partially dismantled vehicles in there, they must have some blowtorches or lascutters, assuming all of them weren’t recently taken to seal gates or cause vandalism.

“I saw a shed in the scrapyard earlier, it may have some cutting tools” – You say.

You and Namara proceed cautiously back up Main Street. In the distance, something definitely weird is happening over at the Comm Tower. Your eyes may be playing tricks on you due to the darkness, but it seems like the antennas and weather vanes of the Comm Tower are being wrapped in writhing tentacles of some nearly translucent substance. It gives you nausea and vertigo just looking at it, and you almost fall over. When you look up again, the antennas and other taller infrastructure have disappeared completely. Maybe the buildings on the ground are still there, you can’t see them from this angle, but the hundreds of meters of steel has simply vanished.

No explosion or other noise.

No burst of light.

Nothing.

And then most of the remaining lights in the base either explode or simply flicker off, one by one. The base is plunged into darkness, with only the moons and some strangely colored lights coming from the heart of the “Palace” providing any visibility.

“Hope you aren’t afraid of the dark...” you here Namara whisper.

You briefly think you see some sort of massive humanoid avian figure in the moonlight where the antennas once were, but then it turns and disappears.

You decide to pick up your pace and get off the wide road as quick as you can.

The scrapyard is located in the southern quadrant, not far from the latrine trenches where you saw figures moving about earlier. The smell here is awful, and flies are buzzing everywhere. Once or twice you think you see waist height, rotund bipedal creatures running about making strange giggling noises. Perhaps some sort of local vermin you haven’t encountered before?

You reach the shed you saw earlier, but belatedly realize there are in fact several sheds scattered among the wrecked vehicle hulls, some with padlocks on them. You manage to locate an old stablight and pry bar in the second shed you open, and Namara uses the pry bar to open two of the padlocked sheds while you hold the stablight. Unfortunately, the search turns up nothing, and you realize you will have to get closer to the latrine trenches than you are entirely comfortable with in order to open the remaining sheds.

The next shed proves unusually difficult to open, and as a result, you and Namara do not hear danger approaching until it is almost too late. A quiet but high pitched wheezing noise is all that alerts you to the fact that someone is nearby. You turn around and find yourself facing two incredibly horrid figures...

>>4889515

It takes a bit of time for your brain to process everything, but you eventually realize you are looking at two humans, a man and a woman, nude, and soaked in human filth. Even worse, they seem to have grotesquely stretched every orifice on their bodies to cram more filth into, and even created new entry points into their body with strategic knife wounds. Both their bellies are horribly distended, like they drank gallons of the stuff. The stench is unimaginably vile, and you try to throw up only to realize you already did that back at the chapel.

“Join Ussss” – The male creature says. Its voice is strangely high pitched, but you belatedly realize it is Malcolm, the overweight, and rather timid former cook who was briefly part of your social clique before joining the “Nature Angels”.

“We feel no pain, We feel no fear” – The female creature says. In contrast to Malcolm, its voice is low and gurgling, filth oozes from its mouth as it talks, as if its lungs are full of decomposing slime.

“The Grandfather watches over us, he loves us all” – They both say simultaneous.

“Uhh, no thanks” – You mumble. You belatedly realize you are holding your lasgun in the hand not holding the stab light. With just one hand, you fire off a sloppy volley of lasfire point blank.

As the creatures fall to the ground, Namara finally breaks the padlock off the shed, and thankfully, there is one large lascutter inside partially buried under assorted junk and equipment not relevant to your current situation. You rush over to help Namara unbury the lascutter.

It is almost free when you hear a familiar high pitched wheezing noise.

Your blood seems to turn to ice as you slowly turn around and see the two figures, standing exactly where they were before, despite several fatal wounds each.

“Join Usss” – Malcolm says again.

“We fear not death, because we cannot die” – Says the female creature, despite the fact you burned its head clear off with at least two high powered shots to the neck. The voice issues from its cauterized stump of a throat. It reaches down picks up its own head, and sticks it back in place with a wet squelching noise, smiling and blinking as if to reassure you that there are no hard feelings.

“Time to go...” - Namara says. She has freed the heavy lascutter from the shed, and pulls you away from the creatures with before running away as fast as she can. Less encumbered than her, you easily outpace her, and stop several times as you remember you can’t get through the gate without the lascutter.

By the time you and Namara reach the southeast gate again, several filth smeared men and women are standing on the road, watching you passively. There are a number of the strange, rotund creatures with them you saw earlier. In the moonlight, they look like walking bags of trash, but you can’t see them clearly in the dark, probably for the best...

>>4889523

The few minutes it takes for Namara to get the lascutter working and cut an adequate sized hole through the gate are probably the longest in your life, but the creatures make no attempt to interrupt your work. Namara drops the lascutter, you both crawl through the opening she made, somehow avoiding major burns in the process, and just like that, you are finally out of that accursed death trap of a camp.

Still worried about being caught, or shot from behind, you both sprint through the clearing surrounding the base, reach the tree line, then continue sprinting blindly through the jungle for several minutes.

It is only after you both stop to catch your breath that you realize you haven’t thought of what you will do next.

>Head down to the harbor, the boats there are the only way off the island, but the Tainted Ones have no doubt realized this too, and are probably guarding it somehow.

>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

>Lie low for a few days. Maybe the occupants of your former base will leave, thus providing you with the opportunity find a vox system there to call for help.

>>4889525
>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.
Death fighting greenskins is preferable to chaos taint

>>4889536
Definitely get someone sane or comms to command. We have a successful Tzeench ritual and nurglings running about. We need to get this info out before the entire island turns into this planet's new warp-tainted asshole.
Then leave before they glass it, hopefully.

>>4889601
>Then leave before they glass it, hopefully
After what we've seen our only hope of survival is that some inquisitor is looking for lackeys and we appear resistant to chaos

>>4889525
>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though

>>4889525
>>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

>>4889525
>>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

>>4889525
>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

We don't have the supplies to survive out in the jungle.

>>4889525
>>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

>>4879678
>“Now that would be a crime against humanity! I always knew you had a good figure under that clerk’s robe, but I never imagined... this...” - Kristoff

If he gets out alive we let him fuck our tits.

>Head to Outpost Alpha, it is the only other Imperial settlement on the island, maybe the Guardsmen there remain uncorrupted, or maybe they have abandoned the outpost, thus potentially allowing you to try using its comm system to call for help. Outpost Alpha is on the edge of greenskin territory though.

“Alright, follow me, we are going to Outpost Alpha, it is about five kilometers inland, guarding Three Point Gorge” – You say to Namara.

You head north until you hit the road leading from the harbor to the main base, then wander back and forth for ten nerve wracking minutes trying to find the start of the side road leading to Outpost Alpha. Luckily there was no one travelling from the main base to the harbor or back at that time.

The road to the outpost is narrow and poorly maintained, more of a partially overgrown set of vehicle tracks really. You are not even sure if this is the right path or not, having never been to the outpost before, but surely this road leads somewhere. From what you have heard, Outpost Alpha is a small collection of bunkers and trenches guarding Three Point Gorge, a deep natural trench that orks and gretchin sometimes use to launch raids on the main base from their hidey-holes in the many natural cave and coves on the north side of the island. Usually only 30-40 men are posted there at any given time. Despite being only five kilometers north of the main base, you have heard that travel between the two locations is infrequent due to the large numbers of ambushes and booby-traps. Perhaps the soldiers at the outpost never received pamphlets, and if they did, perhaps they wandered off or killed each other.

You never fully realized just how high up on the hills the outpost is until the first 30 minutes of climbing leaves you out of breath and drenched in sweat. The heat and humidity are only slightly better at night-time, and the biting insects are even worse. At first you barely even notice the three pale figures standing in a small clearing just off the road. Even with the stablight, you can’t really tell what they are without walking off the road for a few meters. It is only up close you realize they are nude manikins, like the type you would see in a high priced clothing store (not that you have been in many of those). More confused than anything, you and Namara leave them alone and start heading back to the road when you hear a snap.

Then your whole world turns upside down.

You and Namara find yourselves suspended in the air in some sort of crude net trap. You belatedly realize that the manikins were bait to get Guardsmen out of their vehicles in order to trigger the trap.

Well great, now you can add “outsmarted by orks” to your list of massive personal failures.

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>>4891474

You and Namara spend the next little while trying to figure out ways to escape, but both your lasguns are hopelessly tangled, and you can’t reach your shiv in its hiding spot in your canteen. Eventually panic gives way to more idle thoughts like whether we will starve to death if no one ever checks the trap, and what will happen if you try to “use the lavatory” while partially upside down.

When someone finally does arrive, it is the last thing you are expecting...

Although it is hard to see in the dark, you realize that the group that has come to visit the trap contains both orks and humans.

The orks in the group are massive creatures, much larger than the Imperial propaganda usually depicts them. Many have the tricorne hats, frock jackets, hook hands, and/or peg legs associated with the Freebootaz subculture. The humans have painted their faces green or made themselves crude ork masks from paper mache or cut up cardboard, and some wear bandanas and undersized jackets which likely once belonged to gretchin, though strangely no gretchin are present in the group. You have heard of human pirates and ork freebootaz working together before, but these humans are clearly former members of the 37th regiment by their weaponry and the uniforms most still wear. You briefly wonder if they are tainted, insane, traitorous, or simply just doing what they have to do to survive.

“Wat should we do with this lot Kaptin?” - One of the humans says with what vaguely resembles an orkish accent.

“Bring’em, deyz lootz now” – Says the second largest ork.

The largest ork, which you belatedly realize is actually an ogryn painted green, cuts you loose with one swipe of his ridiculously large combat knife, then grabs the ends of the ropes and slings you, Namara, and the net over his shoulder like a giant sack. One of the humans notices you have lasguns in the netting with you and expertly frees them from the netting and chucks them in the bush.

The strange group follows the road for a bit, before heading into the jungle in the direction of the coast. The ogryn carries you effortlessly, and a human follows close behind, keeping a close eye on you. At one point you try to ask questions, but that just results in him taking off his bandana and shoving it into your mouth.

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>>4891478

The group eventually enters a large sea cave, where several strange contraptions sit in the dry part of the cave. As far as you can tell, the two smaller ones are Chimera APCs to which nautical looking forecastles, aftercastles, and a large mast with a sail have been added. The larger one is essentially the same except its hull consists of three Chimeras welded together, has a second mass, and the aftercastle is crowned with a large poop deck containing an old fashion ship’s wheel as its centrepiece. The rest of the cave is filled with ramshackle wooden shacks, piles of crates, and all sorts of random junk the orks apparently consider to be treasure, though it seems to have not been used for some time. A large hole in the cave ceiling lets in the moonlight, but as the orks make themselves at home, they light several of the large old fashion pitch torches scattered around the cave as well.

“Put’em dere fer now” – Grunts the “Kaptain” indicating two of the hanging iron gibbets that the orks apparently stole from various coastal towns to use as “decorations”. The ogryn and an ork work together to empty the previous occupants from the gibbets, and shove you and Namara in one each. You are not sure which smells worse, the ogryn, the ork, or the half decomposed bodies just removed from the gibbets.

It takes a bit of time for the orks to fuel up their “ships” but by the time they get them moving and into the water (and somehow they don’t sink) your sneaking suspicion that the group has completely forgotten about you and Namara is confirmed. Or perhaps they intend to return to the cave eventually. Either way, for the second time in just a few hours, you find yourself hopelessly trapped and wondering whether starving to death is better than someone finding you.

However, you don’t have to wait long to be found again, this time by a group even more outlandish than the ork freebootaz and their human assistants.

Two humans, two armored giants, and two lobotomized orks show up in a medium sized power boat. Judging by their conversation, they are here to pick up some gear they left stowed in the abandoned ork base, but it doesn’t take long for them to notice you and Namara still trapped in your hanging gibbets.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” - Says a woman dressed in an elaborate ball room dress that clashes with her army boots, and officer's cap featuring the badge of a 38th Regiment junior officer. Her dyed orange hair, fine features, and elaborate make-up don’t seem military standard, but perfectly match the description you were given for the legendary Lt. Kayla Ryerson you heard about last night, which now seems like decades ago.

“This one is of my homeworld, she belongs to the Master” – Says the other human, a dark skinned man in the uniform of a captain of the 38th Regiment.

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>>4891488

“What about that one?” Rumbles one of the giants, pointing its massive boltgun at you. You realize it must be some sort of Space Marine. You have never seen one in person before, but it looks nothing like the heroic statues you have admired in the past. It has bluish green armor covered in spikes, and some sort of serpent emblem is on its chest where the Holy Aquila would normally be. It is probably one of the most terrifying things you have seen in your life, an impressive accomplishment given the events of the past day or so.

“Oh, it seems like a bit of a waste to ice her” – Coos Kayla, as she saunters over and prods you hard in the chest with one finger, before forcefully grabbing your jaw to turn your head one way then the other. “The face needs a bit of work, maybe we can find a mask or muzzle somewhere, but a bust like that must be allowed to breath! - She declares rather breathlessly. Luckily you are still within the iron gibbet, or you suspect she would have implemented a new dress code then and there. Even if you hadn’t had a bandana shoved in your mouth, you are not sure how you would have responded to her remarks.

“Business before pleasure Kayla” – Quips the dark skinned captain. He makes and elaborate hand gesture, and the two orks lumber over to rip the gibbets apart. Each ork is massive, even larger than the “Kaptin” from earlier, but each one has had the top of their skull sawn off, and the brains pierced with strange awls and wires made of some sort of exotic metal. One of them carries you and Namara back to the boat, before binding you to a railing with handcuffs, then leaving to help its strange comrades continue to load the boat with crates.

After several trips, they apparently have everything they need, and the boat leaves the cave and heads out onto the open ocean. Luckily Kayla and the captain have better things to do than torment you, and you and Namara are ignored until the boat reaches its destination. Your heart sinks even further when you realize you arrived at Hannah’s Jetty, the largely abandoned harbor used to supply your now hopelessly tainted former base. Your faint hope that this strange party wasn’t somehow linked to recent events is brutally crushed.

The occupants of your boat disembark, and start offloading the cargo into a small shed. There are dead bodies and other signs of fighting strewn around the dock, but for some reason, groups of what appear to be followers of the Happiness Angel and the Architect are covering things up as best they can. There appears to be fish falling from the sky, and you briefly wonder if you are finally going insane. You and Namara are thrown in the same shed as the cargo, and shortly afterwards, Kayla comes over and pins you to the ground. Frightened by her intentions, you struggle as best you can, but then Kayla reaches down and places two fingers on your brow.

You find yourself becoming very, very sleepy...

>>4891493

You awaken to find yourself in your strangest situation yet.

You are chained to a pole along with Namara, and a few other guardsmen. Thankfully everyone is still wearing their uniforms, perhaps to emphasize the fact you are captured Imperials, but the ball gag in your mouth tastes wretched, and the sun is mercilessly beating down on you.

Your are near the stern of a large luxury yacht. All around you are your former comrades, their altered state now abundantly obvious in the bright light. They seem to be enjoying themselves, many are carrying drinks, while others wrestle, bob about in the pool, or sunbath.

Most are followers of the “Happiness Angel”. Their appearances are equal parts comical, lewd, and vile. At first glance, their drunken antics, smeared lipstick, novelty hats and glasses, and colorful flotation devices seem like rather harmless fun, but as time goes by, you realize that most are nude, or near so. Clothing often takes the form of black leather (often spiked) collars, corsets, brassieres, codpieces, high heeled boots, and skin-tight masks, sometimes in combination with fishnet stockings and diaphanous silks. The black leather reminds you of the dominatrices your home world’s infamous redlight districts, or the skin tight armored body suits favored by certain senior Imperial agents and authority figures, you have never been sure which inspired which.

But worst of all, almost as if your mind has been trying to block them out, are the mutations. Many of them are subtle, a small horn here, some extra muscle tone there, or certain body parts being larger than they should be. It takes you an embarrassingly long time to clue into the fact that you recognize surprisingly few of the women, and that many of them remind you of men you encountered at the base prior to all the insanity. A few mutations are not so subtle, bestial faces, extra arms and other body parts, tails, hooves, claws, and odd mixes of male and female traits. The worst is the creature known as Steve, who looks like several men and women were disassembled, then fused back together in the most random manner possible.

A few other men and women seem to be followers of the Architect, but they are more disciplined than the Happiness followers, those you see are moving with a purpose, and rarely stay above deck for long. Some still wear their Guard uniforms, and can only be identified by the tattoos on their faces. Others wear elaborate robes or armor that seem to be inspired by the enemy Space Marines you encountered earlier.

There are also a few ogryn about, seemingly uncorrupt and befuddled. Once you even see the Commissar wandering the deck in a daze like state, but a pack of giggling women herd him back inside the boat after a short period of time.

All the strangeness is simply too much, your emotions have been all but burnt out by the constant stress of the past few days, and the heat and sunlight make you drowsy...

File: Party Yacht.jpg (119 KB, 761x529)

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>>4891496

You pass out again, and apparently miss a few key events, because this time when you wake up you are still tied to a pole on the yacht, but now the yacht is tied to a dock in some sort of enclosed boat dock. You can see a large opening on one side, likely connecting back to the sea.

A masked Guardsman is in front of you, unlocking the chains binding you to the pole. Namara is nearby unchained, looking confused and concerned. The other bound Guardsmen that were on this deck appear to have been brutally tortured and executed while you were asleep. The deck otherwise seems empty, where has everyone else gone? And who is this masked Guardsman?

You come free of the chains and fall to the deck. Dehydration combined with being constrained for most of the past day have made both your mind and body sluggish. The masked Guardsman simply walks away without saying anything as Namara helps you upright.

You desperately want to lie back down, but then bullets whiz by from somewhere and shatter a nearby window.

At least one person is returning fire from one of the upper decks of the yacht.

A surge of adrenaline clears your head and gives you new energy as you realize you are in the middle of a firefight!

>Jump of the yacht and try to swim somewhere with better cover

>Enter the yacht and find cover

>Enter the yacht and try to find an exit leading to the docks

>Try to jump from your deck directly onto the dock

>>4891499
>Jump of the yacht and try to swim somewhere with better cover
Unless the dock is level with the deck, jumping to the dock seems suicidal. Swimming is probably not ideal but the least bad option

>>4891499
> Find cover in the yacht
Let the orks do the heavy work of killing the Slaneesh cultists, then hope there's enough fuel left to get away. Until then, cqb sounds better, and a yacht has more places to hide and more steel to slow bolts an dampen lasers

>>4891499
>Jump of the yacht and try to swim somewhere with better cover
Swimming under water can also provide a surprising amount of protection from gunfire

>>4891499
>Jump of the yacht and try to swim somewhere with better cover

What the fuck is happening!? Really putting the comedy in grimdark.

>>4891499
>Jump of the yacht and try to swim somewhere with better cover
Dock won't offer much protection, and I don't want to wander into chaos filled yatch in our state.

>>4891499
>>Enter the yacht and find cover

>>4891499
Jump off and swim baby

>>4891699

>What the fuck is happening!? Really putting the comedy in grimdark.

The plot is based on one of those bizarro greentext adventures from /tg/ (links in the first post, spoilers obviously)

The first 100 or so posts take place prior to the original story, so the tone was a mix of suspense and slice-of-life, but now that we are following the plot of the greentext story, things are going to be a mix of the horror and surreal dark comedy genres.

>>4892114
I'm well aware of the premise of the quest despite not having read the linked greentext adventure thread, some anons were discussing it earlier. I was more flummoxed and confused by the events themselves, the latest story posts were pretty out there for me and not what I expected from a 40K quest even with the premise of a "Hapless Guardwoman". I'm glad I didn't spoil myself, I'm enjoying the whacky turn.

>Jump of the yacht and try to swim somewhere with better cover

“We can’t stay here, jump into the water!” - You say, leaping over the side of the yacht.

Namara says something, but you don’t quite catch it.

Swimming in trousers and army boots is harder than you thought, not to mention while you are already exhausted. For a second you are worried that you will drown, but then you find by aggressively flailing your limbs, you are barely able to keep your head above water. You belatedly realize you aren’t actually that good at swimming, having only started when you arrived on this world two months ago, and since then only doing it rarely.

From this angle, you can see outside of the enclosed docks easier. It is raining hard, but you can see there is some sort of wide canal connecting the enclosed docks to the ocean. There is a large ferry docked outside, the gunfire seems to be coming from there. Freebootaz? Pirates? More infighting between the tainted ones? Legitimate authorities? It doesn’t really matter, somehow you doubt they will stop shooting long enough to give you a chance to explain yourself.

Although it takes significant effort, you are able to swim around to the prow of the yacht, where you likely safe from being fired upon, though you haven’t heard any gunshots or lasfire for a minute or two. Namara is standing on the dock, which is at least two meters above the surface of the water. She is bone dry and carrying a looted lasgun.

“I don’t know how to swim” – She says. “There is a ladder just over there”. She must have walked through the yacht to get to the dock rather than go the “long way around”.

You groan as you spot the ladder, and realize you will have to swim roughly another yacht length to reach it.

“Don’t worry, I think we are alone for now” – Says Namara as she keeps watch over the area with her lasgun. “There is no one left on the ship, the bullets killed the few that were left on board. I will go get you a lasgun”

She walks back towards the yacht, having clearly decided that she can grab a lasgun from inside and walk back out in the time it takes for you to swim to the ladder.

She is correct, by the time you climb up onto the dock, she has returned carrying a second lasgun.

You flop on your back, completely exhausted, and wishing your undershirt didn’t always get so translucent when wet.

>>4892866

You take a better look around the space you find yourself in. It is a partially enclosed series of docks, though the yacht is the only boat currently moored here. As you noticed earlier, the large entrance on one side connects to a canal leading back to the ocean. From this angle, you can’t see the hostile ship or vice versa. Walkways are attached to the walls of all sides of enclosed docks, and several doors appear to lead outside, though you are disinclined to go that way as that is the direction the gunfire was coming from. Several more doors appear to lead deeper into the complex. Everything is made of fine cut stone, polished wood, or gold plated steel. Evidently whoever lives here is quite wealthy. There are several large banners of purple felt, with white trim and a stylized “W” in the middle. Perhaps this is property of the near legendary eccentric quadrillionaire Willy Wonka?

You realize this is the first real chance you have had to talk to Namara in a while (or talk period) but you aren’t sure it is safe to be here. On the other hand, perhaps she knows something that could be relevant short term.

>Investigate the yacht, you have doubts that it is truly empty, who was the masked Guardsman who let you loose? Even if he is dead it may answer some questions

>Head deeper into the complex, the unidentified group that was firing at you could be here any moment

>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)

>>4892868
>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)
Seriously WTF is going on?

>>4892868
>>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)
Yes.

>>4892870
>>4892874
I am fortifying this vote. Thirded.

>>4892868
>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)

>>4892868
>>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)

>>4892868
>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)
Grill the grill.

>>4892868
>>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)

>Bombard Namara with questions, because you are so confused at this point it is not even funny anymore (Why did that captain spare you back at the sea cave? Where did everyone go? Who is shooting at us? Where are we?)

Namara lifts you upright “We should get moving” she says.

“Why, where are we going? Where are we? Who is shooting at us?” - You ask.

“You talk so much, and ask many questions, how are you not dead?” - Says Namara as she tries to herd you deeper into the complex.

“No seriously, who are those guys shooting at us, it looks like they were on a boat outside” – You persist, refusing to be herded anywhere until you get some answers.

“Maybe if you talk and sleep less, and listen more, you will know more” – Replies Namara.

“While you slept, I listened to some of the heathens on the yacht. We have arrived in Wonka Land, but the men and women I listened to know not why we are here. Some say we were chasing a boat, perhaps they turned the tables on us. We should move, in case they get off their boat and come here” – Namara continues.

“But what about the tainted ones, where did they go? What if they are further in the complex?” - You ask.

“Most of them left the yacht when we first arrived. Some stayed. I heard them fighting among themselves. Some got thrown overboard. Then quiet for a while. Then I could hear gunfire outside. A man came and unlocked us. Then people started shooting at the yacht. You jumped in the water. I investigated the yacht. There were a few dead heathens on board. Also many of strange objects. I took their guns. Now we are here. I know not where the heathens went, but we can’t stay here where either side may come to find us.” - Namara replies. She is speaking fast, and her accent is more obvious than normal. Your mind tries to process all the details. So far she hasn’t said anything useful you hadn’t already guessed. Wonka Land is a smallish island owned by a man so rich, that even on a world covered in the estates of the elites of Imperial society from across the sector, he has been given unprecedented political power. Wonka Land is technically its own province, one of just 31 on the planet, and far smaller and less populated than the rest, though still home to at least 100,000 if you remember correctly. Willa Wonka is the Provincial Governor, therefore, only the Planetary Governor, or those with power at a Subsector or Sector level can challenge him. Perhaps those shooting at us belong to Wonka’s private army. But surely the occupants of one yacht, no matter how tainted, couldn’t invade an entire well populated island by themselves? Hearing Namara’s accent reminds you of some other details that have been bothering you for a while.

>>4894409

“Why did they spare us, and not the other prisoners they have taken? Why did the masked man let us go? Why was the captain in the sea cave so interested in your home world? Why did the preacher try to sacrifice you back at the chapel? What do Saints from your home world have to do with all this?” - You ask.

Namara rolls her eyes and sighs in exasperation. She mutters something that sounds like “God-Emperor give me strength”.

“My home world is isolated, but a number of strange things have happened there throughout history. Many miracles have occurred, and we have many Saints. We have little technology, so we have hard time defending ourselves. The Sector Lords have all but forgotten us, we fought against the orks of our world for many decades before the Crusade finally reached us. It was supposed to be our salvation, but old evils awoke. The regiment I was attached to left to fight on Damnatum Lutum and I followed them. I have never heard of my home world spoken of since. It is like it never existed. I fear it is now lost. I asked the preacher about the four Saints, but he said he didn’t know where they were from. He was lying though, I could tell. He tried to kill me. You saved me. The man in the cave also recognized where I was from. It saved me then, and perhaps it saved me just now. The symbols of snakes and dragons, we have seen them many times now, they were also present on my home world. Maybe they are connected” - Says Namara, talking so fast you can barely follow.

You sense there is more, but she is in a near panic state by this point. Clearly she wants to be somewhere less exposed, and you can’t really blame her. She doesn’t really seem to know much relevant to your short term survival. The fact that the existence of her home world has been covered up seems a bit ominous. Likely a defeat occurred there the Crusade High Command decided to cover up for morale purposes. You wonder what "old evils" she speaks of. Perhaps there was a taint on Namara’s home world that spread throughout the Crusade when the Imperial Guard pulled out of that world. Or perhaps there is some sort of other connection.

Namara senses you are thinking of more questions to ask. “I answered your questions, now we go” – She says.

“I think we are as safe here as anywhere” – You reply.

As if just to prove you wrong, some sort of projectile whizzes into the enclosed docks from outside and explodes on the yacht. More gunfire rakes in too.

Clearly someone wants the yacht dead.

>>4894414

Namara pushes you onward and you both run for the nearest door deeper into the complex. The door leads to a tall set of stairs, which in turn lead to some sort of massive lobby or entrance hall.

The room is about six stories tall, with decadent marble staircases leading up to the balconies and walkways of the upper levels. Off to one side is a large doorway, likely the main entrance to the building, which you now suspect is some sort of palace. The “theme” of the room seems to be anything related to hunting. Taxidermied animals, xenos, mutants, abhumans, and even pure strain humans in tribal garb are mounted everywhere, as are bizarre skeletons, pelts, skins, shelves full of skulls and jars containing preserved organs, and displays of exotic looking weaponry. Clearly some nobleman is showing off his trophies, likely Willy Wonka himself.

At first you think the room is empty, but then you notice a woman standing near the main door facing away from you wearing nothing but a purple top hat, high heels, and a shock collar. How typical of an Imperial noble to treat their servants so poorly you think to yourself.

Namara seems both awed and troubled by the scale and contents of the room. Perhaps the nobility of her home world were more ethical in their hunting choices, or more likely, just too poor to build something this elaborate. You have never been in a palace either, but you know enough to know that much larger palaces exist within the Imperium, and hunting other humans for sport is well within the behavior tolerated by the nobility. Sensing it is likely you that will need to take the initiative now, you head over to the top hat woman and clear your throat to get her attention.

“Welcome Honored Guest, to Lord Governor Wonka’s Summer Palace, more commonly known as Wonka Manor” – She says, sounding well rehearsed. You wonder briefly if she addresses everyone as such, or if she just assumed you were part of the group that arrived on the yacht. If so, it is deeply troubling that Wonka would accept such obviously tainted creatures with open arms.

“Uh, don’t you realize we are under attack?” - You ask. You can hear gunfire outside, it sounds very close to the main door you are standing near.

“Don’t worry, the household staff of the Manor has been sent to delay the intruders. The other guests have been relocated to the casino further inland. Perhaps you are expected to join them?” - She replies cheerfully, You briefly wonder if she has been partially lobotomized, but judging by the shock collar, it is more likely that fear of punishment is overruling her sense of self preservation.

“Uhm yes, can you give us instructions to get to a rear entrance to the Manor? Better yet, can you show us?” – You ask. Hopefully the building is not completely surrounded by the unknown attacker. And you feel bad about leaving the woman standing alone in what will likely soon be the middle of a firefight.

>>4894417

“I apologize, I cannot leave my post. Take either of the doors behind the grand staircase, go down the hall, straight through the Blueberry Courtyard, straight through the next hallway, then you will enter the rear entrance hall. It is the one with all the statues in it. Outside the main exit is a parking lot where taxis can take you to the casino” – She replies, still cheerful, though you feel it is a bit forced. You are saddened by the prospect of yet again leaving someone behind to save your own skin, much like when you left the corrupted base camp without searching for the others. You are tempted to drag her with you, but the shock collar probably has some sort of proximity sensor, so who knows what will happen once she leaves a certain area.

Not knowing what else to do, you salute her before leading a reluctant Namara to the indicated doors and down the hallway. You are almost at the end when you hear the main door explode, and several volleys of lasfire go off.

More than a bit panicked now, you push through the doors and find yourselves in what is doubtlessly the “Blueberry Courtyard”. Like the entrance hall, it is six stories tall, with many staircases, balconies, landings, and walkways providing access to the upper levels. The centrepiece of the courtyard is the taxidermied corpse of some massive, rotund, blue skinned woman, while everything else in the room also follows the theme of blue and round, including plates of fruit, exotic flowers, large gemstones, odd sculptures, boxes of candy, and jars of strange organs.

>Follow the instructions and head outside, the sooner you are out of this building the better.

>Go up a few stairs then double back, perhaps you can finally get a glimpse of your mysterious pursuers.

>Go through one of the side doors, and try to find a way to the basements, there should be all sorts of places to hide down there.

>>4894418
>>Follow the instructions and head outside, the sooner you are out of this building the better
The fact that Alpha Legion is involved, and even our dear Rhea can tell its a Traitor Astartes, means we run. You can't hide from a Traitor Astartes for long, and we have to assume that's what's chasing us.

>>4894418
>Follow the instructions and head outside, the sooner you are out of this building the better.

I concur.

>>4894418
>>Go through one of the side doors, and try to find a way to the basements, there should be all sorts of places to hide down there.

>>4894418
>>Follow the instructions and head outside, the sooner you are out of this building the better.

>>4894418
>Follow the instructions and head outside, the sooner you are out of this building the better.

File: Evil Callie.jpg (252 KB, 1920x1920)

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>Follow the instructions and head outside, the sooner you are out of this building the better.

You continue onward, eager to leave the building as quickly as possible.

Past the “Blueberry Courtyard” is another hallway, and after that is what is undoubtedly the “Rear Entrance Hall” the one with all the statues in it. The statues are either of women, or stylized versions of Wonka himself, or both, generally intertwined. All of the statues are nude, except all wear a top hat. Even in your frightened state, you are momentarily stunned by the sheer egotism on display in the room.

“Those with money can never have too much honey, but rich boys will always break their toys” – You say under your breath, an old children’s rhyme from your home world that seems very appropriate for the situation.

You hear some laughter off to the side, and realize somewhere in the forest of statues you are not alone.

You and Namara ready your lasguns and advance on the sound of the laughter.

Behind a particularly large statue, you see three followers of the “Happiness Angel” tormenting another one of the top hat girls. It appears they have dragged her from her post just to see how long she could survive the torments of her shock collar. You don’t recognize the two muscular men in spiked codpieces, black leather masks, and necklaces dangling with glow sticks, but you recognize their ringleader.

It is Callie, your old friend from the camp, who you last saw fleeing the chapel when you rescued Namara.

She looks more or less the same, but prettier somehow, and her hair has turned silvery-blond. She is wearing a rather scandalously costume of black leather straps and strips of cloth, and carrying an ornamental revolver, no doubt stolen from somewhere in the manor.

You likely should have shot them all when you had the drop on them, but you know your aim is not good enough to avoid hitting the top hat girl, and part of you is reluctant to kill Callie as well.

“What are you doing?” - You yell out rather foolishly.

Callie turns surprisingly quickly and points her revolver confidently in your direction. You realize that unlike the other new recruits in your former clique, she may have had some weapons training prior to conscription. She doesn’t seem remotely surprised to see you, and smirks coldly.

“It seems our new friends and masters are just as quick to turn their backs on us as our old friends and masters” – She replies rather cryptically, though you know damn well you are one of the “old friends" she refers to.

Without warning, she fires her revolver and you hear Namara call out in pain. You duck behind a statue as two more shots echo throughout the hall. You see Namara writhing in pain from a gut wound and realize it is now three against one. Then sprays of lasgun fire crack by on either side of the statue you are hiding behind, clearly both of Callie’s henchmen have readied their lasguns and now have you pinned.

File: Rosette.png (110 KB, 250x388)

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>>4895749

In a strange moment of calm, you decide that going out in a blaze of glory is probably better than whatever fate surrendering will result in.

But just as you prepare lean out from cover, you hear a strange whistling noise, followed by some ominous thumps.

You lean out from cover, and see Callie and her two henchmen dead on the ground, each pierced in the heart by some sort of large four bladed disk. Even as you watch baffled, all three disks pull themselves free and fly across the room to where a man in a long coat has just emerged from behind another statue.

He takes out his wallet, and opens it, displaying the Rosette of the Inquisition.

Your mind goes blank with fear, and your knees start to shake a bit.

“I am Interrogator Christophis Handson of the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition, perhaps you would like to take a seat. I have been searching for you.”

> Sit on the floor

>”Uh, I wasn’t expecting the Inquisition”

>Grovel and beg for mercy

>Run

>>4895749
Oh no!

>>4895753
>Sit on the floor
We should probably be trying to do something about Namara, though.

>>4895753
>Grovel and beg for mercy

We do have bad nerves, after all.

>>4895753
>To Catch a Cultist episode in Willy Wonka's estate

This quest is top kek


>sit on the floor

>>4895753
>HELP Namara!

>>4895753
>HELP Namara!
Help my friend and I'll answer anything I can!

>>4895753
>>Grovel and beg for mercy

>>4895753
> Sit on the floor

>>4895753
>> Sit on the floor
whan an inquisitor tells you to do something you DO it no fuss, no muss, no ifs or buts

>>4895753
>>Grovel and beg for mercy

>>4895753
>> Sit on the floor
>>”Please help Namara”

>>4895753
>Sit on the floor
cry quietly

>>4895753
>>”Uh, I wasn’t expecting the Inquisition”

>Sit on the floor

Overcome with shock, you sit down on the floor.

“I assumed you would sit on the stairs, or that bench, but I guess that works” – Says Christophis, rather smugly.

Your mind reels in shock, and you find yourself unable to think or form words.

“Do you know why I am here?” - Asks Christophis.

“There is a taint, the pamphlets” – You manage to stammer out.

“A good guess I suppose, but that is merely a way for our enemies to create more fodder, the real prize here is the artefacts and instruments our enemies have stockpiled on this world.” - He replies. “A good guess none the less, given you had no way of seeing the big picture. Pity, you were exposed to the taint though, that reduces your potential value to us considerably.”

“I will do anything you want, just don’t kill me” – You beg. No point in trying to have dignity now.

“You lack a certain imagination if you think killing you is the worst think I could do to you, but perhaps we can cut a deal. Sometimes I see flickers of the future, and I believe you have the potential to accomplish important things here if you are lucky.” - He says.

“Please, anything, I live to serve the Emperor!” – You reply, though your nerves make it sound more like groveling than a firm statement.

++Please don’t bother exaggerating or lying, I am in your thoughts, in your head++

It takes you a moment to realize he is in fact, talking to you inside your head, via telepathy. You have heard of such things, but never experienced it. It seems the worst form of violation. Your panic grows as all sorts of petty failings bubble up to the top of your mind.

++As I said before, a number of artefacts of great value are stockpiled on this island. Unfortunately, a rival Inquisitor by the name of Chalmers is already on his way to level the place. We have several agents in the field already gathering high value items, but we can always use an extra helping hand. As I said, I believe you will be of great use to us, I have foreseen it.++

“I will help, I will help” – You say, eager for any lifeline.

You notice Namara still curled in a ball a short distance away, no doubt bleeding out.

“What about her?” - You ask. Probably one of the bravest things you have done, but after leaving Callie behind, then seeing her killed in a tainted form, you are not sure you could live with yourself if you didn’t make at least some effort to save Namara. Although not exactly a friend, you have been through a lot together by any measure.

++Some D-list pirates and smugglers are seizing this building as we speak. I am sure I can impress upon them the need to stabilize a servant of the Inquisition. They are loyal to the Throne in their own way.++

You are intrigued to finally discover the identity of your mysterious pursuers that have been hounding you since you woke up on the yacht, but are a bit dubious that such individuals can be trusted to heal Namara.

>>4898709

++Don’t worry, Chalmers will no doubt force them all into his service once he arrives, it is his way after all.++

You are not sure how that is supposed to be reassuring.

At that moment, several very well equipped soldiers burst into the room. Sure enough, Christophis flashes his Rosette, and demands that they provide medical aid to Namara without question in the name of the Inquisition. You can’t help noticing though that he identifies himself as a servant of Chalmers, apparently he doesn’t want word getting back to Chalmers that followers of another Inquisition are here.

++My Master and Chalmers are old enemies. Chalmers is too Puritan for his own good, yet when it comes to dealing with the servants of fellow Inquisitors he dislikes, such individuals often experience “accidents”. Anyways, those men will be able to stabilize your friend, and perhaps even heal her if they have a doctor. Perhaps you will see her again, perhaps not. For now we should go somewhere a bit more private.++

You and Christophis exit the manor house via the back entrance. On the way out, you glance back at Callie’s corpse, wonder what would cause her to engage in such senseless, self-destructive behavior, and give a quick prayer to the Emperor to overlook her sins and rescue her immortal soul.

++We have encountered this ritual on a number of occasions now, though this seems to be an even more refined version than we have seen in the past. The ritual corrupts most individuals to the point of insanity, but boasts the abilities of others. Some individuals gain psychic powers or unusual charisma and instinctively dominate the lesser chattel they share an affinity with, but when no such leader is present, the weakest are often as much a liability as a benefit to their cause.++

For some reason you don’t find this explanation particularly reassuring either.

Outside, there is little to see through the torrential downpour, though for now some tenting above the stairwell leading down to the parking lot is keeping you dry.

++I will be brief, I have already wasted enough time on you. Object one is on the top floor of Tower B, of the Wonka Tower Hotel and Casino.++

He points at a chain of towers you can barely see through the rain. Despite the name, the complex clearly has more than one tower.

++The object is located in a section of the casino used for corporate offices. The area is not as important as it once was, but it will still be guarded by private security, ompa lompas, and cult forces. Your best bet is to disguise yourself to get in, with all the confusion and newcomers, security should be lax. The object looks like this, and once you find it, place this small teleportation beacon next to it, push the button, then stand back++

As he talks, additional details and images are burned into your mind, and Christophis hands you a shiny tube with a button on it.

>>4898713

Your mind struggles to keep up with all the details being jammed into your head, you sense that you will have a hard time remembering many details unless you see something that triggers an implanted memory.

++The second object is located in Laboratory Building One. It will be more heavily guarded. If you can’t sneak in, you may have to team up with some of Chalmer’s soldiers as they sweep through the area. Use this larger teleportation beacon once you find it.++

Yet again, images and implanted memories flood into your brain, and another teleportation beacon is handed to you. Between the heat stroke, dehydration, nightmares, and implanted memories, you feel a killer migraine building up in your head.

++Anyways, assuming you don’t die, or get captured and turned, meet us at Imperial Diamond Resorts, the Tower of the Hedonist, Suite 119++

++Enjoy++

He uses his mind powers to shove you several steps out into the parking lot. The heavy rains drench you to the bone almost instantly.

“Don’t forget your lasgun!” - Christophis calls out, using his real voice for the first time in a while. He chucks your lasgun in a nearby puddle before heading back inside the mansion, closing the door behind him.

You stand in the rain in shock for a minute or two, conflicting emotions warring in your head; impotent rage at the sheer hopelessness of your situation, mental exhaustion at being trapped in a nightmare that never ends, and crippling fear at the thought of being found wanting in the eyes of the Inquisition.

>Let out a long scream at the sheer suckiness of your situation, then throw some stuff around until you calm down

>Find some shelter, curl up in a ball and cry for a while

>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders

>>4898717
>Let out a long scream at the sheer suckiness of your situation, then throw some stuff around until you calm down
I think it's time for a good cry. Dear Rhea probably isn't mentally prepared for burglary yet

>>4898717
>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders
Inquisition is fucking terrifying, psychic Inquisition doubly so

>>4898717
>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders

We may have bad nerves but fear of the inquisition is an extremely powerful motivator. Bottle that rage and need to cry, we may find it useful if we encounter a 'red saint' to have a sudden temper tantrum.

Alternatively just stomp and cry on the move and knock over anything in our way, maybe spray some lasfire around at the decor.

>>4898717
>>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders

>>4898717
>>Let out a long scream at the sheer suckiness of your situation, then throw some stuff around until you calm down

>>4898717
>Find some shelter, curl up in a ball and cry for a while

>>4898717
>>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders

>>4898717
>>Find some shelter, curl up in a ball and cry for a while

>>4898717
>>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders

I'm excited.

>Make a beeline for “Wonka Tower”, Christophis may still be in telepathic range and will probably be most disappointed if you don’t follow his orders

You realize Christophis may still be in telepathic range, scoop your lasgun out of the puddle, and head towards “Wonka Tower” as quickly as you can.

After a couple minutes of walking through the downpour, you realize how strange it is that no one seems to be outside. Surely the attack on the Summer Palace would merit some sort of response from Wonka’s forces?

You also find yourself struggling to remember the details of the mission Christophis gave you. For something apparently so important, he provided little information or context. You don’t even really know what you are looking for.

++Hi, I am Clippy. It looks like you are trying remember you mission objective++

You stumble a bit and panic, fearing Christophis is still in your head despite you having walked a reasonable distance from the location you last saw him. But the “voice” is different, and there is something strangely artificial about it.

“Who are you?” - You think to yourself.

++I am Clippy. An artificial psyko-memetic construct consisting of 800 mental images, 400 copied memories, and 20 pain-triggers related to the Operation in Wonka Land++

So some sort of implanted collection of memories, you have heard of such things before, but never knew they were real.

“Wait, pain-triggers? Tell me more about that” – You think.

++Invalid query++

Great, you think to yourself, I might as well be wearing one of those shock collars those girls were from earlier were wearing, but at least they knew what triggered their collars.

“So what can you tell me?” - You say out loud, frustration and hysteria mixing into the dread you have been feeling for the past several minutes.

++Invalid query++

This user interface sucks, you think to yourself.

“Tell me about Christophis”

++Invalid query++

“Tell me about that building” – You say, looking at the Summer Palace, just barely still visible down the hill.

++The Summer Palace, also known as the Manor, or the Boat House, is one of several residences on the island that Willy Wonka has had constructed for himself. No artefacts of interest are stored here, it appears as though Wonka once used this building for meeting and greeting more legitimate visitors, though lately he has been using it to greet high ranking members of HYDRA IX and other heretics arriving by boat.++

The voice in your head this time is not Clippy’s, but rather a woman’s, reading the words like she was recording her thoughts into an audio-journal. You are rather terrified that the Inquisition is able to use telepathic powers for such a mundane purpose.

“What is the object of interest on the top floor of Tower B?” - You ask.

A brief image of a golden amulet hanging behind a huge desk flashes into your mind. No further explanation is given, probably for the best.

>>4904492

Worried about tarrying any further, you press on through the rain towards Wonka Tower. It takes almost half an hour to reach the perimeter of the complex. During this time, you try asking Clippy a few more questions, but most responses are "invalid query" or useless trivia. You get the impression that Clippy was create for use by experienced Agents of the Inquisition who have been properly briefed, and who are more knowledgeable about what types of information is stored within Clippy.

Wonka Tower is a sprawling complex, which despite the name, actually consists of five large towers connected at the base by a multistory plaza. It is surprisingly quiet, perhaps due to the storm, but you do see several heavily armed guards patrolling outside. You have a hard time believing that nobody has spotted you yet, but apparently no one finds it unusual that a woman is wandering around with a lasgun and a partial Guard-issue uniform. Maybe they think you are one of the tainted ones, you remember that a few continued wearing their uniform, or at least parts of it, and your undershirt is all but transparent at this point from the rain.

“Clippy, which one is Tower B?” - You whisper.

++Invalid query++

“Tell me about that building” – You whisper, looking at the closest tower.

++Tower B, Wonka Tower.....++

“Shut up Clippy” – You mumble, too strung out to “listen” to another memory, and surprisingly it does.

You notice there is an open loading dock relatively close to you. Mustering your remaining courage, you cross the large, empty parking lot and enter it. None of the guards patrolling the perimeter make any effort to approach you. You wonder if it is possible they genuinely didn't notice you, none of them even got close.

Inside the loading dock are a couple of heavy duty trucks and a single guard. Unlike the professional looking guards outside, this one is clearly one of the tainted ones, a woman wearing frilly black lingerie and a mask, collar, elbow length gloves, and thigh high boots of black leather with spikes.

She looks a bit like you, and you remember what Christophis said about disguises. On the other hand, the thought of taking clothes from a foul degenerate makes your skin crawl.

>Kill the guard, loot the “clothes”

>Try to bluff your way through

>Back out before she sees you, try to come up with a better plan out in the parking lot

>>4904499
>Kill the guard, loot the “clothes”

Our nerves would only fuck up our bluff attempt.

>>4904499
>>Kill the guard, loot the “clothes”
Can't wait for Rhea to miss her mismatched uniform

>>4904499
>>Try to bluff your way through

>>4904499
>Kill the guard, loot the “clothes”
poor girl, she'll need a hug after all this

>Kill the guard, loot the “clothes”

Alright, here goes nothing, you think to yourself.

Before you can have any second thoughts, you stride across the loading dock and up to the guard.

“Who are you?” - She says.

“Uh, Rhea...” - You reply. Then you shoot her twice in the stomach.

The lasgun is on the highest power setting, and the shots burn straight through her, but unfortunately, the cauterizing effect isn’t total and blood begins to pool.

Your “plan” (or lack thereof) was to drag the body somewhere less visible, but a large smear of blood will probably ruin that. You glance around the loading dock looking for something to cover the body with, and notice some large tarps.

And also some security cameras.

Ohhh, that is not good.

None of them are facing your way though, and none seem to be moving either. The lights are also off. Maybe there is a power outage?

Alright, you can still salvage this, you think to yourself.

You grab a tarp and toss it over the body.

Excellent work.

No wait, you still need her clothes for your disguise.

You flip the tarp partially off her, and start carefully removing the clothes. After spending what seems like an eternity wiggling one of the thigh high boots free, it occurs to you that this will take much longer than you envisioned, hopefully no one walks in on you.

Several nerve racking minutes later, pausing every time you think you hear the sound of someone approaching, you have removed all the guard’s clothes.

Now comes for the even worse part.

The back of the lingerie is soaked in blood, so you walk over to the work station in the corner, turn on the tap of the sink, and drop the lingerie in, hopefully the blood will soak out. Then you wriggle out of your drenched, clinging clothes, and painstakingly slide on the tight fitting boots and gloves, followed by the collar, mask, and the lingerie from the sink.

Most of the items don’t quite fit right and pinch or ride up uncomfortably, and even worse, the boots have stiletto heels; you have never even worn normal heels before.

Now you just have to find a way to carry around your old clothes, not to mention the teleportation beacons. You wobble around the loading dock, find an old tool box, empty it out, then cram your actual clothes and the beacons into them. You then look in the mirror by the sink and decide you plausibly could pass for the guard you killed.

Alright, this might actually work, you think to yourself, practically crying in relief, I just need to move a few boxes on top of that tarp covering the body, because right now it just looks like a tarp covering a body.

“Hi there, is the power running down here yet?” - Someone says from behind you. You almost jump out of your skin.

You turn and see a woman in white blouse and a purple pencil skirt and heels standing by the door leading further into the complex.

>>4905982

“Nope” – You reply, though the overwhelming panic you are feeling makes it sound more like a high pitched “meep”.

“Hmm, strange” – Says the woman “The cameras are working, maybe someone just left the light switch off”.

She flicks the switches by the door, the overhead lights turn on, and you notice the cameras are now definitely moving. But for how long have they been on without you noticing? HOW LONG?!?

The woman turns to leave.

“I am heading back to the top floor now to help bring stuff down, are you coming?” - She says.

You mind goes blank with panic. Not only is the body poorly hidden, and you were potentially caught on camera, but now it sounds like a large number of people are about to start bringing stuff down to the loading dock, where said body is poorly hidden.

------------------

“So, do you work out a lot?” - A male voice asks conversationally.

You are in an elevator with the woman from before, plus an older man in a business suit.

You realize you must have been so overwhelmed with fear and panic, that you followed the woman into an elevator without even noticing.

The man seems to be trying to memorize every inch of visible skin on your body.

You feel your face burning, luckily it is behind a mask. You have never been comfortable with nudity, particularly your own.

Especially your own.

You glance at the blinking lights, and notice you are only on floor 3 of 42, and the elevator appears to be moving slower than a glacier.

“So, are you new to wearing heels? You don’t seem entirely comfortable in them.” - Asks the woman.

“Yep” – You reply, which sounds more like “Meep” again due to stress.

“Don’t worry, you will get the hang of it” – She replies.

For the few minutes, which seem like hours, your fellow elevator occupants make small talk with each other, and with you (for which you give one syllable answers). The man speculates that the elevator is slower than usual since it is running off of some sort of back-up generator due to the strange power outages they have been having.

Who the hell are these people anyways, you think to yourself, they seem to be taking this whole “share the elevator with a masked, armed, turbo slut” thing into stride like it is no big deal.

++The Wonka Corporate Executors are the coordinators and public face of Wonka’s operation. They liaise with outside parties both legitimate and heretic, convey Wonka’s instructions to his security, research, agri-industrial, tourist, and other personnel, and well as handle the bureaucratic aspects of his vast corporate empire. Potential members are recruited based on intelligence, greed, and ruthlessness, and although few possess heretic knowledge, anyone who is not blindly loyal to Wonka disappears in regular purges....++

It sounds like the mental recording is going to continue for a while.

“Shut up Clippy” – You mumble to yourself, now is not the time...

>>4905984

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” - Says the man.

“Nope!” - You reply (like most of your replies it sounds more like “meep”)

“I will have you know that I am a Senior Executor of Wonka Corporation, and although the Corporation values its alliance with HYDRA IX, a lowly foot soldier like you DOES NOT GIVE ME ORDERS!!!” - Says the man, sounding like he is working his way up to a full fledged rant.

The elevator opens, cutting him off.

Standing just outside is Hiroka, now wearing blue and turquoise robes reminiscent of the traitor marines you encountered what now seems like ages ago.

“You were saying Bruck?” - Says Hiroka. She is even more intense and intimidating than when you last encountered her as the Commissar’s aide. Bruck and the woman get down on their knees and beg for forgiveness, you probably would too except you are not sure you would have been able to pull it off in the stiletto heeled boots.

“You two, crawl over to my office and await punishment! Gina, you got a container for the amulet, good, go pack it up and bring it back to the loading dock” – Says Hiroka.

You realize you are “Gina”. You can’t believe your luck, not only did the disguise work, but this amulet you have been ordered to retrieve is no doubt the one Christophis has asked you to locate.

You hustle out of the elevator and into a corridor, pick a direction at random, and fast walk-wobble down it as quickly as possible.

++Other direction moron, straight down the hall, third door on the left++

Your veins turn to ice.

That was Hiroka’s voice in your head!

She is an God-Emperor damned telepath!!!

Can she read thoughts or just send them?!?

Slowly turn around and walk in the other direction, trying your best to keep your mind blank.

It takes everything you have just to put one foot in front of the other.

Hiroka just glares at you until you walk past her, and you feel her eyes on the back of your skull well down the corridor. However, you can't shake the feeling she finds this whole thing rather amusing as well.

You find the room easily enough, but it is apparently occupied. You can hear voices inside, and a guard is leaning against the door, wearing a 37th regiment uniform, and a cold weather mask with strange markings on it that look strangely familiar.

He stares at your chest for a while, and then his eyes widen like he recognizes you.

In that moment, you also realize you recognize the mask he is wearing, it is the one worn by the mysterious guardsman who untied you on the yacht.

“Room is occupied right now, go get me a recaf from the machine down the hall, and I will see what I can do” – He says.
The voice is strangely familiar.

>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

>Bombard him with questions (quietly)

>Try to barge your way into the room

>>4905986
>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink
This gives you time for the room to clear and a reason to chat with him without looking suspicious

>>4905986
>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

>>4905986
>>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

>>4905986
>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

>>4905986
>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

>>4906021
>>4906079
>>4906115
>>4906126
>>4906409
Also blow him.

>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

>>4906837
I was actually thinking that maybe Rhea could use a cuppa herself. I think she'd blow her cover if she tried to blow anything else. too much teeth and crying.

>>4906837
We are not a slut, damnit!

>>4906862
Sure, lets get something nice to drink, soothe those nerves.

>>4906949
when all is said and done, Rhea deserves a nice, quiet job as a secretary at the Tricorn on Scintilla.

>Go locate the recaf machine and get him a drink

It turns out that “down the hall” leads to a long, corridor-like balcony overlooking a large, open floor plate filled with work stations, cubicles, and enclosed offices. For someone who has spent the past few years in the drab workplaces of the Munitorum, the Wonka Corporate offices seem flamboyant and surreal. Wonka’s face is everywhere on motivational posters, banners, and wall paintings. Strange plants and artwork decorate corridors and waiting areas. And the occupants are dressed in a wide range of clothes.

You spot strange, orange, abhuman dwarf menials in overalls, vox-operators and vacuum tube girls in blouses and purple pencil skirts, messengers and clerks in bright purple suspenders, and Executors and senior aides in expensive business suits.

Moving among the corporate types are obvious heretics and tainted ones. “Architects” in the blue and turquoise robes or slightly modified military uniforms, “Happiness Angels” in their black leathers or brazen nudity, and surprisingly even a few “Red Saints” in their shredded uniforms and red “paint” and two “Nature Angels” in full hazmat suits. Judging by the uniforms some of them still wear, the Taint has spread to a number of Guard and PDF regiments posted on this planet.

A number of corporate types bound in humiliating positions and/or are being tortured, it seems the “Followers of the Four Saints” are in charge here, or at least the senior members are. You know little about the organization of the enemy, other than that at least part of it is known as HYDRA IX.

You also notice many of them are loading up boxes of files, currency, and those damn pamphlets into trolleys, and your mind snaps back into focus as you realize some of those trolleys are likely heading to the loading dock where you left a poorly concealed body.

Recaf machine, recaf machine, where art thou?!?!

You quickly wobble on your heels from one end of the balcony-corridor to the other before spotting the recaf machine in an alcove.

Strange place to put it, but your anxiety levels are rising again to critical levels so you don’t question it.

You fill one cup with recaf, and briefly consider filling another for yourself, but then you would have to take off your mask to drink it, and besides, the numbing exhaustion you have felt every time today you weren’t running on adrenaline seems as much emotional as physical.

You head back to the room the masked guardsman was guarding, but he is gone, and the room is now empty. You spot the amulet on top of a shelf behind a large desk. Hardly believing your luck, you take the small teleportation beacon out of the toolkit, push the button, then place it next to the amulet. A few seconds later, a bright flash of light and a loud bang occurs, and the amulet is gone, along with a chunk of the shelf it once rested on.

>>4907124

More than a bit frightened that someone may have heard the bang, you grab your toolkit and hustle out of the room, and towards an emergency stairwell you saw earlier while trying to find the recaf machine.

Running down stairs in high heels is extremely difficult, particularly when wearing a mask that partially blocks your peripheral vision. Eight floors later, you somehow haven’t fallen headfirst down a flight, but key muscle groups ache painfully, and you are completely out of breath. Having decided that you aren’t being pursued, and you have probably descended below the corporate levels to the hotel levels, you push open a door, and find yourself in an empty corridor with many doors leading off of it, some open some closed. Keen to get out of your disguise, you go through one of the open doors, close it behind you, and find yourself in a luxurious hotel suite.

On closer examination, it seems dusty and unused, like even cleaning staff hasn’t been here for weeks, which suits you just fine. Safe from the immediate threat of discovery, followed by death, torture, and/or forced conversion, you realize just how tired, sore, thirsty, and hungry you are.

Although you technically slept many hours last night and this morning, you were tied to a pole on a yacht at the time. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday at noon, and haven’t drunk anything except a few accidental gulps of rainwater on the walk from the manor. Your skin burns a bit, and you realize you are probably developing some wicked sunburn from being exposed on the deck of the yacht for most of the morning. Then of course blisters and chafing from your disguise, muscle strain from your flight down the stairs and being bound in uncomfortable positions for much of the past 20 odd hours, and emotional burnout from the twists and turns of the past few days.

The thought of having to do this all over again to retrieve the second artifact of interest for the Inquisition fills you with despair and crippling fatigue. You take off your mask, flop down on the luxurious bed, and drift off to sleep before you even realize what is happening.

You awaken to the sound of thunder, gunfire, or maybe both.

To your dismay, you realize you fell asleep in the foul disguise, though so comfortable is the bed, and total was your fatigue, it hardly mattered.

You wonder how long you have been asleep for and throw open the curtains.

What you see takes your breath away...

A storm of nearly unimaginable intensity rages outside, and the sky is an unnatural shade of purple.

Suspended in midair less than a kilometer above the ground, and less than 2-3 kilometers away, is a voidship, at least a kilometer long, and clearly marked with the insignia of the Inquisition.

>>4907127

Your mind is still blurry from disrupted sleep, and you are half convinced this is another nightmare, but didn’t that Interrogator say something about how that other Inquisitor planned on bombarding the island once he got what he came for?

>Go into panic mode, head to the location of the other artifact as fast as you can

>Try to come up with some sort of plan while waiting for your brain to fully wake up

>Go back to bed, you have had enough of this endless nightmare, being vaporized in bed doesn’t seem so bad compared to the other options

FYI, going on vacation for a few days, will post again on Friday.

>>4907133
>Try to come up with some sort of plan while waiting for your brain to fully wake up
Haste makes waste, and with a kilometer long voidship and megastorm raging outside I think we need to look for alternate forms of transportation rather than just hoofing it.

>>4907133
>Try to come up with some sort of plan while waiting for your brain to fully wake up

>>4907133
>>Try to come up with some sort of plan while waiting for your brain to fully wake up
>Drink the damn recaf, you don't want to dehydrate.

Enjoy your vacation QM.

>>4907133
>Try to come up with some sort of plan while waiting for your brain to fully wake up
Yes. And put her regular clothes on, or at least the boots.

>>4907133
>Go back to bed, you have had enough of this endless nightmare, being vaporized in bed doesn’t seem so bad compared to the other options
Die naked huddling in a blanket

>>4907076
With a hot boss to blow.

>>4908957
If we get out of this with a cushy job and comfortable life, then yes, I'm fine with finally being a slut.

>Try to come up with some sort of plan while waiting for your brain to fully wake up

You turn away from the window and wobble over to the bathroom. Inside is a large mirror.

Strange, you can see in the mirror that you are still wearing the mask, why didn't you take it off before sleeping?

There is a symbol on the forehead of the mask you never noticed before, it makes you queasy just to look at it.

Time to take that foul thing off, you think to yourself.

But you can’t. The straps holding it in place seem to be missing.

Perhaps they are just buried in your hair, and you can’t feel them with the gloves on.

You glance down at your hands, and notice the fingers of the gloves have disappeared, revealing pale, flawless fingers, and long, purple nails.

Horrified, you look back up at the mirror, and notice a number of other disturbing changes that were not there just a few seconds before.

Furthermore, you can see something behind you in the mirror, mostly hidden in an unnatural patch of darkness, but with many glistening fleshy tentacles.

You try to scream, but the mask has somehow tightened to the point that your jaw is locked shut.

Tentacles wrap around you and lift you into the air,

And.......

You wake up.

In the hotel bed.

Again.

Everything is the same except two major changes.

First, you are definitely not wearing the mask.

Second, you are not alone.

Namara is on the bed with you, with one hand over your mouth, and the other making a shushing gesture. She looks much the same as the last time you saw her, though her shirt is cut up and bloody. Her eyes are a bit out of focus, but she seems lucid enough to be concerned with your current dress.

“Get that damn filth off, and get back into your uniform, we are not alone” – She whispers fiercely.

Still reeling from your nightmare, you fumble with the boots, gloves, and collar, while Namara passes the time looting the room.
By the time you switch back into your old clothes, Namara has filled a pitcher of water for you, and placed it and some high energy ration bars on the side table by the window.

Dreading every moment, you slowly open the window. Just like in your dream, the sky is filled with purple tinted clouds, heavy rain, and tree snapping winds. And the Inquisitorial Ship hangs just where you remember it.

>Ask Namara what in the six hells is happening

>Punch glass in hopeless frustration

>Drink water and eat food as quickly as possible, you need to resume your quest and get out of the room with the foul items of clothing

>>4910615
>>Drink water and eat food as quickly as possible, you need to resume your quest and get out of the room with the foul items of clothing

Don't think, thinking will only unveil how totally fucked our situation is and trigger our anxiety. I doubt Namara has some deep insight into the nature of chaos rituals and the precise reasons why the sky is purple. We have our mission, and we have to get out of here. Hopefully we'll be rewarded with a cushy job that fits with our administrative competence and doesn't make us want to cry.

>>4910615
>Drink water and eat food as quickly as possible, you need to resume your quest and get out of the room with the foul items of clothing
That ship could start bombing this place any minute, we gotta move now and pray to the Emperor that we come up with a plan on the way