Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20161215224118/@comment-1734134-20170309004917

Cain raises a jagged steel eyebrow, not sure of what was happening. Glancing over your ranks he offers a nod to Brerier who swiftly retreats to the shuttle as the Chaos Lord stands, having shaken your hand, “I apologise for all the mess it - wasn’t supposed to be like this but you know if you give food to monkeys,” a rebel trooper sets a pair of houses ablaze with a flamer – several people trapped inside left to scream and burn, “…they just throw their shit at each other…”

He takes a step back and drinks in the atmosphere of chaos, but looks back to the psyker with another quizzical look, “Chosen one? Oh right,” he looked down upon his daemonically enhanced frame, “Oh this is nothing, just a binding gone wrong. But I see you’re more of the kneel and chant, light some candles and get some incense type, rather than the…” another building is blown to pieces behind the Champion, “Kill murder, loot and rape types. Eh, well I can work with that, especially with the psyker, come, get up boy,”

Cain yanks Veran up as a servo-skull moves before them, it’s eye lens flashing before the thing drifts back to the Valkyrie. His guards behind you, the horned one begins to march towards its open ramp, “Now we have a party waiting for you, but,” Cain points a jagged finger over to Autumn, “I don’t think I know his name, is he your plus one?” He shrugs his shoulders as Autumn is dragged into the Valkyrie. He clambers up the ramp as you are somewhat forcibly pushed towards the spacious interior,

“Apologies, but for security reasons,” bags are pulled over your heads and your wrists are cuffed, “When we arrive at our destination, you’ll have your things returned to you.”

As your pushed into the aircrafts hull, it takes off. The rest of the trip is a blur, but after little more than half an hour of flight your pushed out and moved from room to room, before you’re forcibly sat down. The bags are torn from your heads as you find yourselves in a massive chamber, sat at a large dining table. It doesn’t take long before you realise this is the bridge of a ship, it’s stained glass windows peering down at you – the observation deck now being used as a sort of balcony which looks out onto a mountain range.

At the head of the table, Cain sits, alongside a young woman dressed in armour far too large for her frame. She is pale and tired, constantly looking at the floor, while on his other side a large blend of tech-marine and apothecary stands. His face a blank screen that buzzes and whines, the Warpsmith peers over at you before looking down at the Champion, unamused. Food has been provided – roasted geox, whine and Rangoon,

“Now, for introductions. My name is Cain Rumkowski,” he gestures to the woman, “My wife Drow Thel, and my good friend,” he points his claw towards the tech-marine, “Orion Strasse. Welcome to my humble abode.”