Drawing a Blank [40K]

[Horologer]

"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth."

{ }​

"Attention, all hands," the vox crackles. "By the Engineseer's estimate, the Fidei Maiorum will exit the Warp and re-enter realspace in approximately two standard hours."

You crack open your eyes and sit up, then give the servo-skull sitting on the bedside table an accusatory look. You'd set your alarm to wake up about three hours before the transition to realspace, not two. You blearily peer into the skull's eye socket to read the time, and blink in surprise. The alarm is set properly. It just hasn't gone off yet.

Maybe it's not that surprising, now that you think about it. You've been told that time is a fickle thing in the Warp. You turn off the alarm, and pat the cybernetic skull absentmindedly, feeling a little bad for getting upset at a perfectly functional machine.

Then you shake off the covers, and walk into the bathroom, ducking slightly to avoid hitting your head on the door. You undress, toss your nightclothes in the laundry hamper, and then walk over to the shower. After some very careful fiddling with the controls, you manage to get the water at a temperature that won't burn you or give you hypothermia. Probably.

After hopping in the shower, you wash your hair, careful to avoid tangling your long hair with your wiring. Cleaning your body off is only slightly easier, since the shower stall is so small you have to do a few slightly awkward contortions to scrub your legs off. Climbing out of the shower, you towel off and walk over to the mirror.

You glance yourself over to make sure you're in good shape and that you haven't caught anything. You don't think you have to worry about some of the Warp plagues the crew is terrified of, but the confines of a ship are also breeding grounds for more mundane diseases. Pulling back your bangs slightly, you note with some relief that the bruise on your forehead has finally faded to a pale yellow. As you look down, you also notice that the cuts on your forearm have basically all healed and probably won't even scar.

You turn around and glance over your shoulder. The augmentations that run up your spine seem about the same as usual, and the wires coming out of them look in perfect shape. The skin around them is still a little pinkish, but if your skin wasn't so pale it probably wouldn't be noticeable. No rashes, blemishes, or extra limbs, as far as you can tell.

Shrugging, you tilt your head a little and carefully pull aside tufts of black hair, revealing the skin just above and behind your left ear. There's a small metal socket embedded in your skull there, with a black wire about the width of your thumb coming out of it.

You grasp the wire firmly, twist slightly, and then press inward a little. With a click that you feel more than you hear, the wire gently detaches and you pull it out of its socket. You inspect the port carefully. The inside is slightly damp, so you wrap a cloth around your little finger and carefully dry it off.

It still feels a little weird to be sticking your fingers this far inside your own skull.

Draping the wire you've just unplugged over your shoulder, you pull your hair back to reveal another port a little behind the first, and repeat the same process. Then tilt your head the other way and carefully repeat the same process for the other side. When the final cord comes out, you breathe a little sigh of satisfaction.

You roll your head around, revelling in the feeling of freedom. The implants are extremely useful, and you would not even think of removing them permanently. But it's nice to be able to move your head without the subtle tug of the wires every now and again.

Then you carefully clean the wires and plug them back into your skull. There's that same click again, a slight vibration, and then a peculiar feeling of vertigo as your brain readjusts to the implants. You blink once and the sensation fades.

You carefully comb your thick black hair until it no longer resembles a particularly unruly bush, get into your uniform, glance in the mirror to make sure you look presentable, and then walk into the other room of your quarters. You're not quite sure what to call the room. "Office" or "study" are too generous, since the room barely has space for the desk and two small chairs. Perhaps "cubicle" is the most accurate description.

Though you sit down on your chair as gently as you can, it still creaks in protest at your weight. You wince and look at your desk. Not that there's much to see. Just a small lamp, a pile of papers, and a very old cogitator.

You'd gone to bed a little early last night, so you hadn't properly sorted through the papers on your desk. Not that there's much to sort, since you practically never get paperwork, but still, it's the principle of the thing. You shuffle through the papers on the desk, but as you'd expect, all of them are just your own sketches. And, as usual, you still can't get the Inquisitor's nose quite right. You sigh and carefully file them away in your drawer.

Turning to the cogitator, you quietly intone a prayer to its machine spirit, and press the activation button. The cogitator whirrs gently and then the screen flickers on. You smile. It may be old, but the cogitator is extremely reliable, and you probably wouldn't get a new one even if you had the chance. You check your intranet messages, but as expected, there's nothing new there either. Just orders to report to the ship's bridge. Stretching, you turn off the computer and get up from the desk.

It's probably best to get going now. The Inquisitor will be on the bridge soon, and if you weren't there in about thirty minutes, he would be displeased.

{ }​

Ten minutes later, you are carefully standing at attention on the bridge.

The Inquisitor walks in. He cuts a striking figure– tall, with chiselled features, wearing a red-and-black coat adorned with the sigils of the Inquisition. His eyes are blue, and so piercing you often half-wonder if he's ever killed someone by just glaring at them too hard. His right arm has been replaced by a mechanical substitute, which holds a sacred tome in its metal grip. His left hand is still flesh and bone, but it never stays far from the bolt pistol at his hip. The Inquisitor's red cloak billows behind him, framing his powerful body.

You stand to attention as he glances around the deck. The crew rises from their stations and salutes him.

"As you were," he says coolly, and they sit back down. He turns to look at you and seems slightly displeased. "You are early," he says, and he makes it sound like an accusation.

"Yes, sir," you respond.

"I do not tolerate idleness among my servants," he says irritably. "You would be wise to use your time more productively than this. While your studies progress well, that is certainly no excuse for laxity. Better to be ten minutes late performing the Emperor's work than to be punctual and spend ten minutes standing about."

"Understood, sir." Last time, he had lectured you for being five minutes late because you were busy with said studies, but you're not going to bring that up. Contradicting a person face-to-face rarely ends well, especially if that person is an Inquisitor before he's had his morning recaf.

Fortunately, your quick compliance seems to head off yet another lecture, because he simply gives you a slightly imperious look and says: "Very good, Miss Ariadne." Then he walks over to the wall and activates a communications panel.

"Navigator Darwin, this is Inquisitor Cleistos. How goes our journey?"

"Quite well," says the tinny voice at the other end. "The currents of the Warp are quite favorable at present, and I expect us to arrive in about ninety minutes."

The Inquisitor nods. "Very good," he says, then turns to you. "Well, since you are up and about, follow me to the briefing room. You will be accompanying me in any case, so it cannot hurt to keep you informed."

"Yes, sir."

{ }​

The briefing room is an impressive feat of Imperial architecture. Even though it's only a small auditorium capable of seating a few dozen people, it manages to loom over its inhabitants like a Space Marine glaring down at a ratling. The walls, stained by centuries of incense, are adorned with various frescoes depicting stern-faced saints performing various miracles, most of which involve the enemies of the Imperium dying in a particularly eye-catching way.

In the front of the room is a raised platform of marble, covered in sigils and decorated with the occasional skull. At the front of the platform is an imposing lectern embedded with yet more skulls and emblazoned with a large, golden Imperial Aquila. Behind it stands the Inquisitor, reading aloud from a thick book of scripture to the soldiers seated in front of him. Behind the Inquisitor stands his retinue, the Inquisitor's companions and most favored subordinates. And behind the retinue stands you.

"...and may the Emperor grant us His sight, that we may see His enemies as clearly as He does, and smite them. May His enemies find neither shelter nor refuge while we pursue them. May we deliver His justice to His people, and death to the impure who dare to stain our galaxy with their presence. Then may we have the peace within that comes from righteous victory. For what is written in the Lectito Divinatus?"

"The Emperor Protects," everyone in the room responds.

"And we must follow in His holy footsteps," the Inquisitor concludes gravely, finishing the recitation. "Now, to more mundane matters," he continues, his tone now far more businesslike, "as I am sure you are aware, we will be entering the Chorale system shortly. There have been reports of heretical activity on the planet. We will investigate those reports thoroughly and excise any heresies we uncover."

"We will be operating under the standard rules," the Inquisitor continues. "Do not disclose any information to anyone outside the Inquisition without explicit leave, observe and report any deviant behavior, remember to use approved ciphers when communicating, and attend Ecclesiarchical services regularly to ensure the holiness of your souls."

"I anticipate no immediate difficulties with the local government. But given the regrettable incident over Aerum IV," the Inquisitor says dryly, and a few people in the audience grin, "our dropships will still be flying in on full alert. Still, I remind you to fire only if fired upon, and no more than is necessary. A few well-aimed shots should resolve any... unfortunate miscommunications." He gives one last look around the room. "You will be given your specific flying orders when you reach your hangars. That concludes this meeting. Ave Imperator."

"Ave Imperator," the audience choruses, and begins to file out.

When the last of them has left, the Inquisitor turns to his retinue. "The planetary government itself seems to be corrupt only in the mundane sense," he says grimly, "but I am not sure. And in any case, corruption can go from bribery to sorcery in a heartbeat. I have strong evidence that a cult of hedonism is active on Chorale Prime. I have no doubt it has wound its tendrils into the nobility of this world, even if it has not corrupted the bureaucracy yet."

He sighs, and then adds: "As usual, we may expect the nobility to be an impediment, although I doubt any of them will be foolish enough to raise an army against us with an Inquisitorial ship looming above their heads. This investigation seems about as straightforward as they get. You are all familiar with your duties and I am certain you will have little difficulty with these heretics. Does anyone have any last-minute information to add?"

"My lord," says a short woman in power armor, stepping forward slightly. "The governor seems to have acquired a collection of various artifacts. I had contacted several people who might have knowledge of the finer details. Nobody responded with anything helpful until a few hours ago, when I received an astropathic message from a contact aboard a Rogue Trader vessel. My contact didn't have the expertise to tell me exactly what those artifacts were, but they were able to describe several of them from memory. Some were possibly xenos devices, but I can't be certain without seeing them myself. A few may be related to the Ruinous Powers, but none appear to be psychically active. What concerns me, however, is this." She opens her book, flips a few pages, and motions for everyone to huddle around.

While you're standing too far away to see whatever's on the page, the Inquisitor frowns in confusion as he bends down to look at it, then his eyes widen and he grimaces in disgust as he recognizes the thing on the page. "If that's what I think it is… it had better not be." He straightens, still scowling. "Good work, Interrogator Iona."

Another person pipes up. "He may not actually be using it, my lord. We have picked up several that were simply on display as mere curiosities."

"Perhaps," allows the Inquisitor, "but I wouldn't count on it. Since he did not call for aid himself, and he has been collecting potentially heretical artifacts, we must assume he is our enemy until proven otherwise. Of course, we will observe the formalities, so that he does not suspect our investigation until it is complete. Or until we are in a position to eliminate him cleanly, whichever comes first."

"If that is all, we will prepare for departure. Interrogators Aurum, Telos, and Iona, you will be with the first detachment of Thunderhawks. Take your agents and be sure my landing is not obstructed. Interrogator Karst, Navigator Tasman, and Miss Ariadne–" he looks over at you and gestures for you to come over– "you will be with me."

"Must we bring the Pariah?" someone grumbles.

"Yes," says the Inquisitor sharply, "Miss Ariadne is our most reliable defense against psykers and daemons, and I will not brook further complaints about deploying her, no matter how uncomfortable you find her presence." The person gives the Inquisitor a hurried apology, and the Inquisitor waves it away irritably, then gestures at you. Everyone turns to look at you, and you internally cringe, even as you carefully maintain a neutral expression. You hate being the center of attention.

"I recognize," the Inquisitor continues, "that many of you are not used to a Blank's anti-psychic field, much less a Pariah's. I will overlook your complaints just this once, because this is new to many of you, and because her presence can cause genuine pain to the more sensitive amongst you. But she has been blessed with cybernetics to harness and direct her powers, and should not unduly perturb you." You're relieved to notice that most of his retinue is looking at the Inquisitor now instead of you, but you still have to fight the urge to look down at your feet.

The Inquisitor gives the person– you still can't tell exactly who it is– a withering glare for another second, then continues. "I expect that none of you will let your aversion to her interfere with your duties." He pauses for a moment, then resumes. "Interrogator Claritus, you will be directing logistics from orbit. Now, are there any other objections? No? Excellent. Then let us be off."

{ }​

The Inquisitorial shuttle is one of the strangest vehicles you've ever set foot in. You're barely a mechanic, and certainly no Tech-Priest, but you can tell that it was made of the highest quality materials. And even a brief look confirms that this shuttle was constructed with immense skill and care. You can't even guess how expensive this must have been. Even if it was blown to scrap, the pieces would still be worth more than everything you've ever owned put together. Not that your possessions are worth more than a pittance, but it's still an unimaginable luxury.

And yet it's almost completely undecorated. No gilded edges, no rolls of purity parchments, no carved saints. Just a token incense burner in the corner for the shuttle's machine spirit, and the Inquisitorial seal mounted on one of the walls. The walls and ceiling are painted a dull grey and the floor is an equally plain black. The seat you're currently strapped into is much the same. It's almost sinfully comfortable, but the padding is just dyed a plain red.

You like it, but right now you wish there was something more interesting to look at, because you could really use some kind of distraction.

You're struggling to avoid fidgeting already. This will be the first time you've landed on a planet. You don't know whether to be more nervous or excited. Interrogator Claritus has told you some of what to expect, and you know that the inside of a hive city isn't that different from the inside of a station or voidship, but still, you'll be landing on a true planet for the first time. When you step out onto the landing pad, nothing will be above you but the sky.

You spend a few minutes listening to the crackle of the vox as various pilots report in. You can tell it's going to be some time before you leave the Warp. You take a deep breath and try to distract yourself by calculating the powers of three in your head. One, three, nine, twenty-seven, eighty-one, two hundred forty-three, seven hundred twenty nine...

You get up to the eleventh element of the series before you're forced to admit it's not really working. Normally, a little mental math calms you down, but you're just too wound up to keep your mind on something this tedious.

You look around the cockpit you're seated in. It's roughly oval shaped, with a wide windscreen at the front. Just behind it, a pair of pilots are running diagnostics on the shuttle, probably just to pass the time. In the second row of seats, the Navigator appears to be reading something, while the Inquisitor simply stares out the front windscreen, lost in thought. You're sitting in the final row, next to Interrogator Karst, a broad-shouldered man with enough muscle to put a grox to shame. He looks like he's just as bored as you are.

Frowning, you try to decide how you should spend your time…

What should you do?
[X] Try to strike up a conversation with Interrogator Karst.
-[X] Ask him about planet-side life. You were born and raised in space, and you have never set foot on a planet before.
-[X] Maybe he's willing to talk about this mission. The Inquisitor was a little vague, and any more specific information might be useful, if he's willing to share.
[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] Read your prayer booklet. You forgot to read your daily prayers this morning, and you doubt you'll find a better time to do so today.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.
[X] Make a more concerted effort to calm yourself down.
-[X] Look out the front windscreen for anything interesting going on in the hangar.
-[X] Double-check the calibration on your implants again. Best to be completely sure they're properly tuned.

{ }
​

Welcome to the grim darkness of the far future. You are playing as Ariadne, an Inquisitor's subordinate. Ariadne is a "Blank" or "Pariah", a person born without a presence in the Warp. In effect, she does not have a soul and cannot use psychic powers. Instead, she emits an anti-psychic field, which she can partly control with various augmentations. Unfortunately, since everyone who has a soul is at least partly psychic in nature, her presence makes others uncomfortable. Because she's a Blank, Ariadne is also technically a mutant in a society that is sharply prejudiced against them. As a result, she will find often find socializing difficult, to say the least.

Still, there are a few silver linings. Ariadne's anti-psychic field can be weaponized to attack her enemies and nullify psychic powers. As she has no soul to lose, those who seek to steal the souls of others will pass her over, which is no small mercy. Imperial propaganda villifies the mutant, but you will find that many do not buy the party line. Even when all else fails, perhaps talent, adaptibility, and raw determination will see her (and you) through to victory.

Good luck. The Emperor Protects.

 

[veekie]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[darknessworld]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[KreenWarrior]

[X] Try to strike up a conversation with Interrogator Karst.
-[X] Maybe he's willing to talk about this mission. The Inquisitor was a little vague, and any more specific information might be useful, if he's willing to share.

Our social links start in the negatives, might as well try to work on them now.

 

[Zenbeast]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

Will this be entirely narrative based, or will we be getting a stat sheet and rolls etc?

 

[Horologer]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

Will this be entirely narrative based, or will we be getting a stat sheet and rolls etc?

Click to shrink...

There will be stats and rolls, but those will be coming in a bit later.

 

[StarkDemise]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[butchock]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] Read your prayer booklet. You forgot to read your daily prayers this morning, and you doubt you'll find a better time to do so today.

- great opening! Makes me think of Dan Abnett's Ravenor series

 

[useofstrike32]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[Nyssar]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[henkalv]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

There isn't a lot to judge your writing by yet, but what is here seems really good.

 

[Night_stalker]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[Horologer]

- great opening! Makes me think of Dan Abnett's Ravenor series

Click to shrink...

Thanks! I haven't read the Ravenor series, but his Eisenhorn books were actually one of the inspirations for this quest.

 

[butchock]

Thanks! I haven't read the Ravenor series, but his Eisenhorn books were actually one of the inspirations for this quest.

Click to shrink...

Read the Bequin trilogy as well!

 

[wildman902]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

 

[No7sHere]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

@Horologer just a few questions, what equipment do we have and how much combat training or experience do we have. Also just how powerful a blank are we and have we had any actual experience fighting psykers or demons?

 

[Night_stalker]

Read the Bequin trilogy as well!

Click to shrink...

They released a book other then Pariah?

Thanks! I haven't read the Ravenor series, but his Eisenhorn books were actually one of the inspirations for this quest.

Click to shrink...

Ironically, I liked Ravenor a bit more then Eisenhorn. Not sure if that was because I had Ravenor for longer, or just well....

 

[BungieONI]

[X] Navigator Tasman has the right idea. Reading time.
-[X] The Inquisitor instructed you to read a short pamphlet on Warp physics. It's as good a time as ever to get started.

Its pretty much the structure of the Universe's fault that people dont like Ariadne so the Universe can get promptly fucked. As for anyone else eh.

If they have an issue with her being a mutant they can either say it to her face where it can be dealt with, or get shot in the face or go try and bug Senor Inquisitor.

 

[Horologer]

@Horologer just a few questions, what equipment do we have and how much combat training or experience do we have. Also just how powerful a blank are we and have we had any actual experience fighting psykers or demons?

Click to shrink...

You have had basic training, both in combat and in using your Blank abilities, but you haven't had combat experience beyond a few fistfights.

According the Inquisitor, you're an unusually powerful Blank, and that's about all you know.

As for equipment, that'll be a choice in the next update.

 

[Horologer]

+++Thought of the day: Wisdom is the beginning of fear.+++

{ }​

You reach into your jacket pocket and pull out the small, thin book on the Warp. The only thing on the front cover is an Inquisitorial seal with some kind of reference number underneath it. You flip it open to the first page and begin to read.

This book is the sacred property of the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition.

Do not read this if you have not been given explicit permission to do so by an Inquisitor. Do not attempt to sell it, trade it, or gift it to another. If you have acquired this book, return it to the Inquisition immediately. If you cannot return this book to the Inquisition, burn it to ashes, ensuring that all portions of the book are thoroughly destroyed. Then scatter the ashes, preferably somewhere remote and isolated.

Failure to abide by the above instructions will jeopardize your very soul and incur the wrath of the Emperor and his servants. You have been warned.

You turn to the next page with some trepidation, but it's just a title page.

The Immaterium, by Inquisitor Excruciatus of the Ordo Malleus.

You take a moment to wonder what kind of person would name themselves Excruciatus, and then flip to the next page.

Having served in the God-Emperor's Inquisition many years, I have discovered that most of my servants are ignorant of even the most basic facts of the Immaterium. When questioned or interrogated about the nature of the Immaterium, they will give many answers. They will claim it is a planet somewhere, or that it is the God-Emperor's will made manifest, or that it is a xeno-infested alternate dimension, and so on.

All of those answers are mostly nonsense, of course. The only true answer they can give is that they do not know anything about the Immaterium, or Warp, as most call it. But that is good. A small mind is easily filled with faith, and faith in the God-Emperor is all that stands between us and damnation.

Alas, not all of us have the luxury of such innocence. The Inquisition's task is to hunt for knowledge, to uncover the rot within and purge it. If an agent of the Inquisition is wholly ignorant of the nature of the Immaterium, that is an unacceptable dereliction of duty.

Yet while we must know something of what we fight, it is best not to know everything. The shield of ignorance is the most pure and effective defense against the insidious evils of the Warp. For knowledge begets compromise, curiosity, and sympathy. I have known a few deluded fools who have claimed that these are virtues. But the truly wise know that when confronted with any heresy, no matter how small, compromise is moral cowardice, curiosity is intellectual gluttony, and sympathy is spiritual weakness.

Seek knowledge of the enemy only so that you may better destroy them. Only by armoring yourself with the armor of righteous hatred can you avoid falling to those three perils.

Hmmm. You try mustering your anger…

Spoiler: roll

1d100 DC 30
76 - 40 Charisma - 20 (???) = 16
not really feelin' it right now

...but as usual, you don't really feel any different. You'll have to do without that armor for now.

Now that you are properly warned, we may begin discussing the subject of this book.

The first question we must answer is: what is the Warp? The Warp is a world totally unlike our own. It is a dimension composed entirely of psychic energy. Every thought, dream, hope, and fear is reflected there. As a result, it is intimately intertwined with the universe we are most familiar with– the four-dimensional space that we all call home.

It is a hellish place. The imperfections of the galaxy are writ large in the Warp. Every debauchery and impurity is twisted to grotesque proportions there. It is a home only fit for daemons and worse. To look upon the Warp is to see the face of madness, and anyone who does so will inevitably go mad themselves.

Maybe you shouldn't have read this passage while in the Warp yourself, you think nervously.

The second question we must answer is: Why do we not simply leave the Warp be, and purge ourselves of its stain wherever it is found?

The answer is that we cannot do so, for the Warp offers an irreplaceable service to humanity. The void between the stars is too vast to be traversed by any method other than Warp travel. Even light, the swiftest of all things material, can take years to go from one star to another. Were it not for the Warp, the Imperium could not fulfil its sacred duty to rule the galaxy. The Warp, and the dangers it brings with it, are a grim necessity.

Still, we are fortunate in some respects. The veil barring our world from the Warp is not easily breached. Very little can enter the Warp from realspace or leave it unless that veil is weakened. Unfortunately, there are many things that are designed to do precisely that. The most well-known is the Warp Drive, a device that allows ships to enter and exit the Warp safely, but there are many others.

Of course, there are limitations...

There's a sudden twist that you can't quite place, as if the universe itself had momentarily stumbled and then caught itself. "Attention all hands: the Fidei Maiorum has transitioned back into realspace," drones a voice over the intercom. The pilots up front let out a little cheer of celebration, and you think you catch a sigh of relief from the Interrogator.

The Inquisitor grabs a microphone and fiddles with it for a moment. Then he says "Engineseer, what is our current trajectory?"

You can't hear the response, but after a moment, the Inquisitor responds. "Yes, that's excellent. Are we getting hailed by planetside officials? None? Very well, let me know when someone does respond. Yes, that will be all. Thank you."

The Inquisitor sets down the microphone and sighs. "Throne on Terra," he grumbles, "we warped into the system two hours' hard burn from the planet, and they don't so much as ask us our names?"

"Someone's going to lose their head over this when we respond," says Interrogator Karst.

There's silence for a few minutes, while the Inquisitor waits for a response. Then the Inquisitor starts talking again. "Has someone responded? Good, finally. Patch them through, and send them my verification codes."

"This is Chorale Voidship Traffic Control," comes clearly bored voice through the other end. "Unidentified vessel, please state your name and business in the system."

"I am Inquisitor Cleistos, and my vessel is the Fidei Maiorum. Rejoice, for I have come here in the name of the God-Emperor of Mankind, to root out any hidden heresies or treacheries on this planet. The first of my retinue will be landing on this planet in three hours to meet with the governor and local dignitaries, the better to organize our collective efforts."

There's a good ten seconds of stunned silence on the other end, before the other person works out a suitable response. "I see," they respond weakly. "May– may I have your credentials?"

"They have already been sent," says the Inquisitor sternly.

"Ah, so they have," responds the person on the other end, who now sounds thoroughly embarrassed. "Very well, Inquisitor Cleistos, I will… notify the authorities and deliver their response to you once I receive it. Ave Imperator."

"Do so. Ave Imperator," says the Inquisitor, then turns off the microphone.

"Poor bastard," says Karst. "At least this one remembered to ask you for proof."

"Flash an Inquisitorial rosette in some people's faces, and their brains shut down," remarks Navigator Tasman.

"Flash it in other people's faces, and their brain begins working twice as fast figuring out how to make my job harder," the Inquisitor says sourly. "I'm sure the station's Astropath is getting rolled out of bed for this."

{ }​

Silence falls again, and you read on.

Of course, there are limitations. For whatever reason, strong gravitational fields repel the Warp. This effect is normally scarcely noticeable under normal conditions– but the Inquisition's endless quest rarely deals with "normal conditions".

This disruptive effect is particularly important for voidships. Navigating the boundaries between the Warp and realspace is a delicate and dangerous affair. It cannot be safely conducted while too close to a massive object; one might as well run headlong into a plasticrete wall. Those foolish enough to try leaving the Warp too deep inside a gravity well are fortunate if they merely perish in the attempt.

Because of this, one can only safely enter and leave the Warp at a certain distance from the planet's star. In most cases, this distance is well past the outermost planet of the system; our beloved Sol system cannot be entered or left except well beyond the orbit of Neptune. If the sun is particularly small, it may be possible to enter or leave the system closer.

There are exceptions, of course. Perhaps the best known are the Warp gates: sacred relics from our ancestors that allow ships to leave and enter the Warp regardless of how strong gravity is at said Gate. Blasphemous xenos copies exist as well: the inferior knockoffs of degenerate species, merely copying the works of their betters.

Extreme natural occurrences can have even stranger effects. The Warp seems to have a peculiar and unwholesome attraction to certain electromagnetic disturbances. The arcane designs of the Warp Drive are again the most familiar example, but far from the only one. Certain places have unnatural auras or strange afflictions that make Warp travel near them possible, although such travel is rarely safe.

Very close to large stars, psykers have difficulty even touching the Immaterium. Oddly, this has no correlation to the experience of gravity in the area. Even if a ship's motion is properly plotted such that the crew does not feel the force of gravity, such as during freefall, the Warp is still pushed away by the gravitational field.

The most extreme gravitational fields have correspondingly extreme effects. Close to star-corpses, such as white dwarfs, neutron stars, and black holes, even the strongest psykers struggle to manifest more than the most pathetic parlor tricks.

This effect is similar to that of the benighted mutants known alternately as Blanks, Pariahs, or Nulls, whose presence naturally pushes away the presence of the Warp.

You had been wondering when you'd get a mention.

But they seem to be a separate phenomena from that of high gravity, because their presence does not much impede Warp travel. It seems that these unfortunate aberrations are simply the inverse of the psyker. Where the psyker draws the Warp close, so that they may manipulate it, the Blank merely pushes it away. Such mutants are tolerable because of their usefulness, but their lack of presence in the Warp marks them as soulless beings– equal parts untrustworthy and pitiable.

Untrustworthy, for they cannot be examined by sanctioned telepathy, for no psyker can peer into their minds. Pitiable, for they cast a terrible pall over those about them, as their presence dampens each person's connection to the Warp. Most terribly of all, without a soul, they cannot truly receive the Emperor's blessings, which are given in the life to come.

You stop there for a moment, unable to continue. Life had never been easy for you, but you had always consoled yourself with the fact that it was never easy for anyone. You also knew that after this life, the Emperor was waiting, and that if you followed all his rules and obeyed all his servants, your soul would go in front of the Golden Throne and be judged worthy. A lifetime of tears and toil was nothing next to an eternity in paradise.

It had been some consolation on lonely nights.

Then the Inquisitor arrived at your station– your world, however small other people might call it– and then suddenly everything had changed. He had explained to you what you were, and why there had been so many of those lonely nights. Now that you've known him for a little bit, you think he was trying to break the news to you gently, which was kind of him.

All those times people had muttered 'mutant' or 'freak' under their breath, they had been right. Most of your mumbled prayers had been a waste of time and breath– you didn't have a soul for the Emperor to save. The only reason you hadn't lost it entirely was that you knew that the Emperor still existed. Your faith may have been pointless, but at least it wasn't wrong. During those terrifying moments of revelation, you had clung to that scrap of truth like a lifeline.

Then the Inquisitor had taken you into his service. He was nice enough to make the offer politely, but you held no illusions that there was any real choice being offered. Still, you had agreed with as much gratitude as you could manage under the circumstances, leaving everything and everyone you knew behind. Not that there was much to leave. You don't think you'll ever look back on those first few weeks in the Inquisition with fondness, but at the time the grueling training had been a welcome distraction from your thoughts. And you can't deny that you've learned more than you thought was possible.

For example, you now know that Interrogator Claritus can knock you out with a padded training truncheon. One-handed. Without breaking a sweat.

You've been trained to use most standard-issue Imperial weapons competently, but your favored weapon is:
[X] A lasrifle. Common, easily replaced, and very reliable.
[X] A flamer. Short-ranged but incredibly destructive.
[X] A chainsword. Incredibly deadly in close combat, if a bit unwieldy.
[X] A shock maul. Surprisingly versatile, for such a blunt instrument.
[X] Write-in.

{ }​

For a long while you just stare at the page as your mind wanders. Then you rouse yourself and read on.

The psyker is the most common way in which Mankind touches the Warp– although it is certainly not the only one. The method by which a psyker asserts their will upon the physical world is touched upon in more detail in other sources, so I shall mention it only in brief.

When a psyker wishes something to happen, they use their connection to the Warp to create a change there. Because realspace and the Warp are so deeply connected, a change there creates a change here. But what form that change takes is rarely consistent. Individual psykers find different changes easier to affect. For some, conjuring flame is second nature; for others, uncanny prescience comes quite easily.

Some psychic abilities are stranger than mere talent for one school of psychic power. Some psykers cannot use one form of power at all, often due to some kind of mental impediment. Others have peculiar gifts unique to only them. Yet others have a hereditary ability, such as the Navigator Houses provide them with the singularly unusual ability to look upon the Warp without immediate madness. Or at least, without suffering the kind of madness that leads to heresy. At the other end of things, some xenos are so inferior to humanity that they only possess one kind of psyker, and the most pathetic possess none at all.

No matter what form a psychic power takes, it is subject to the dangerous whims of the Warp (and, of course, the God-Emperor's will, should He wish to intervene). Even when wielded by the pure of heart and iron-willed, any Warp-craft can prove fickle. It must not, cannot, be relied upon. For all the boasting of witches and heretics about their psychic prowess, I find that it rarely protects them for long against a volley of lasgun shots or a bolter round to the head. And sometimes the power of a psyker even turns upon itself in strange and terrible ways. Even sanctioned psykers are at risk, should their faith waver.

For daemons live in the Warp. Such things are no threat to the pure of heart, and they cower and snivel before the terrible might of the Imperium. Yet a few of them are cunning, in their own low way. Having no great strength of their own, they will seek to beguile people away from the truth out of spite and jealousy. They will whisper sweet-sounding words into the ears of the unvigilant. Fools who listen to them teeter upon the precipice of damnation, for all daemons are liars. If you encounter a daemon, ignore it, destroy it, and purge it from your memory as best you can.

Because the Warp is their home, however, the power of daemons is somewhat greater there than it is here, and destroying them is rarely possible. They may conspire mischeviously to hinder a voidship's journey, or their incessant squabbling may disturb the Warp and make navigation difficult. Or they may flee, and leave the path forward clear. Which occurs is as much a matter of chance as anything, and it is best not to question why. Attempting to understand the mind of a daemon is as futile as it is heretical.

It cannot be emphasized enough: the Warp is fickle and dangerous. This book contains much on the physics of the Warp, such as they are, but I must caution how foolish it would be to assume that the knowledge within always holds perfectly true. With the aid of this book, you may calculate expected times for Warp travel, determine an acceptable Gellar Field strength, and so on. These tools are invaluable, but not infallible. Strange tides may dredge up fell surprises.

Place your trust in steel and faith, not science and warp-craft.

That looks like it's the end of the chapter. Isn't that last bit basically a fancy way of saying "it works until it doesn't"?

...Well, having done a fair bit of maintenance, you have to admit that sometimes that's just how things go. Besides, this is coming from another Inquisitor, from the Order that deals with the Warp, so it must be accurate.

Spoiler: roll

1d100, DC 70
75 + 0 Guile = 75
Something seems off.

Although... you had asked Interrogator Claritus about the three major Ordos, and she had been a little vague about what the Ordo Malleus fought. Ordo Hereticus and Xenos were pretty easy to understand, since their names were basically their job description, but "Order of the Hammer" doesn't really tell you very much. You know they investigate dangerous Warp stuff, but you don't really know the details.

Frowning, you leaf back through the chapter. It talks a lot about how dangerous the Warp is, and you've heard that from a lot of others too. But you realize that both the book and the rumors are kind of vague on why the Warp is so dangerous. This book seems pretty adamant that you're not going have a really big problem in the Warp unless you're stupid enough to go looking for one, and that mostly lines up with what you've heard elsewhere. Sure, if you do go and do something stupid like look at the Warp or talk to daemons you'll probably go insane or get eaten or something, and that's definitely a problem. But how many people are that brainless?

And since they become heretics, wouldn't fighting them be the Ordo Hereticus' job? Well, the author does tell you he's not going to give you more information than you need, so maybe you don't need to know the fine details. It's just... confusing, you have to admit. Hopefully the author is willing to explain more later.

You read on, looking for clarification. The next chapter is about Gellar Fields, which keep the ship safe in the Warp. It's definitely not useless; it does tell you how to measure how strong the field is (use a grav-oscilloscope or psy-auspex) and how much of the ship's power should be diverted to it (as much as you can spare), and so on. But nothing that's particularly relevant to your question, although this chapter does tell you that "unfortunate spontaneous mutations" and "intrusive auditory hallucinations" are a sign that the Gellar Field isn't working properly. So you don't have to look at the Warp for bad things to happen– you just have to lose your ship's Gellar Field.

That makes a little more sense. Maybe the Ordo Malleus' job is to kill Warp-mutants and heretics? That still seems oddly specific, though...

Spoiler: roll

1d100, DC 50
49 - 10 Inspiration = 39
It's probably fine.

But it's not your place to second-guess the Inquisition, you remind yourself sternly. If they've got an Ordo for just that, then you're sure it's for good reason. You shouldn't bother important people with pointless questions.

There are a few physics problems at the end of this chapter. It looks like this booklet also doubles as a textbook of sorts. You figure you probably should do a few of them, so you pull out a spare sheet of parchment and small pen. As you work on the problems, though, you can't shake the feeling you're missing a key piece of information.

{ }​

You can tell this book is deliberately avoiding something, and you suspect it's something important. You know it shouldn't bother you, but you still feel…
[] Uneasy. Politely ask the Inquisitor if he's willing to share any further information.
[X] Confused. Put your questions aside for now, and avoid making assumptions until you can privately ask someone who can explain.
[X] Interested. See how much you can figure out on your own before asking someone else.

Progress:
Knowledge: (The Warp) - 87/200
Knowledge: (The Threat Beyond?) - 0/???

 

[Horologer]

Name: Ariadne
Gender: Female
Species: Human, Pariah
Age: 20
Description: A taciturn Blank currently serving as a member of an Inquisitor's retinue.

Health: 4/4

Strength: 1
Dexterity: 2
Constitution: 0

Reasoning: 2
Inspiration: 0
Focus: 2

Charisma: -4
Guile: 1
Composure: 2

Background: Voidborn
Many ships traverse the void for centuries on end, and there are many stations lightyears from any habitable world. Countless people call such places home, and most of them will never set foot outside the bulkheads and passageways of the places they are born. Such people are often considered strange or even ill-omened by outsiders, but they tend to be relatively skilled workers who are used to living in hostile environments.

Child of the Long Night - Space is dark, windows are risky, and lighting is expensive. As a result, your distant ancestors developed slightly better night vision. Unfortunately, you aren't used to bright light, which you find painful and distracting. +10 bonus to perception in dark environments, and a -10 bonus to perception in very bright environments.
Room For One More - In the vastness of the galaxy, space is not at a premium, but livable space certainly is. As a result of your upbringing, you are very used to living and working in tight spaces and do not mind cramped conditions.
So Much For Gravity - You don't get nauseated or disoriented by microgravity.
Weak Immune System - Voidborn typically have little exposure to the world outside the environment of their ship or space station. While their immune systems are functional, it will take some time for them to acclimate to more varied conditions. For now, you're likely to catch something every time you get aboard a new ship or land on a planet. -1 Constitution, ???

Attributes:
Attributes are personal traits, and usually don't change much.

Aeronaut - (A dream of flight...)
Artistic - +1 Inspiration, +20 to all rolls involving art.
Aspiring - For all experience gain rolls in a skill, add +20% to that roll for each rank you already have in that skill.
Bookworm - +1 Reasoning, +20 to rolls involving lots of reading.
Friendly - (It would be nice to have friends...)
Heart of the Void - +20% to all Pariah experience gain rolls.
Iron Will - +30 bonus to rolls when under adverse conditions, such as pushing through fatigue or ignoring distractions.
Just - When you stand by what you believe is right, roll twice and take the higher result.
Lonely - (It would be nice to have anyone at all, really...)
Mathematics Savant - +50% to all mathematics experience gain rolls.
Paranoid - -1 Charisma, -20 situational malus to social rolls, ???
Pariah - See the Pariah section of the character sheet.
Shy - -1 Charisma, -20 bonus to social rolls when interacting with strangers.

Pariah:
You have a mutation called the Pariah Gene. As a result, you have no connection to the Warp. In fact, you emit something called a Null Field. This field has a number of very odd effects on reality. You don't understand much about it, although you have a limited degree of control over it. Some attributes may have effects that you are not aware of. Some skills are not listed because you are not aware that they exist. You may make a Focus roll to try and use your Null Field in a specific manner. You may attempt to use skills untrained, if you are aware that the skill exists, but you will take penalties for doing so.
Normal penalties to combat apply. All Null abilities are Forbidden unless otherwise noted.

[Eyeblinder] [Innate] - You can't be directly detected or located by psychic powers. People in your immediate vicinity are also subject to this effect. Indirect attempts to detect or locate you are massively more difficult.
[Psychic Abomination] [Innate]- Your Null field presses down upon the souls of others, filling them with an instinctive revulsion and fear. You take a -50 -20 penalty on all social rolls where you attemp to make a positive impression on someone else, and (???)
[Soul Singularity] [Innate]- Psykers are even more strongly affected your presence than others. They have difficulty accessing the Warp and using their powers. The closer you are, the stronger this effect.
[Limiter] [Implant] - You have received augmentations that interface with your brain. When activated, they mitigate the effects of your Null field. You are unaware of any specifics beyond that.

[Nameless Fear] - [502/1300] until complete.
[Touch of the Untouchable] - [94/1500?] until complete.

Skills:
Unless otherwise stated, skills add a bonus to relevant rolls equal to the level of the skill times ten. Weapons bonuses only apply to-hit.

[Combat Experience] - +10 to most combat-related rolls.
[Electronics] (Lv. 1) - [0/200] to next level.
[Engineering] (Lv. 1) - [0/200] to next level.
[Literacy: Low Gothic] - You can read and write Low Gothic.
[Mathematics] (Lv. 2) - [0/400] to next level.
[Mechanics] (Lv.l 2) - [0/400] to next level.
[Physics: the Warp]* - You understand the nature of Warp on a scientific level. (But you feel like you're missing something important...)
[Sketching] (Lv. 1) - [0/200] to next level.
[Weapons Expertise: Laser Rifle] (Lv. 2) - [276/400] to next level.
[Weapons Training: Basic Imperial] - You know how to use the most common weapons in the Imperium, and can operate them without penalties.

Skills marked with an asterisk are Forbidden.

Pending Skills:
[The Threat Beyond?]* - 0/??? [Stalled]

 

[veekie]

[X] A shock maul. Surprisingly versatile, for such a blunt instrument.
[X] Interested. See how much you can figure out on your own before asking someone else.

Bringing the hammer onto daemons!

 

[henkalv]

[X] A laspistol. Lighter than a lasrifle, but packs the same punch at point blank.
@Horologer alright with this as a write in?
Guns are the great equalizer, so far it hasn't seemed like we have the physicality to overcome someone in melee with a shock maul and I just imagine us disemboweling ourselves by accident if we get our hands on a chain sword. Would go for a laspistol instead of a lasrifle, don't figure we will be doing any long range shots any time soon, and a pistol would be inconspicuous and less of a chore to carry around.
[X] Interested. See how much you can figure out on your own before asking someone else.
Curiosity about the warp can only end well, let's do that

 

[darknessworld]

[X] A shock maul. Surprisingly versatile, for such a blunt instrument.
[X] Interested. See how much you can figure out on your own before asking someone else.

 

[Harried]

Hmm, I wonder if there's anything less... awful we could access in the way of longer ranged weapons, I'm not too enthused about our current odds in melee range.

Would it be at all possible to try and swing for a hellgun or pistol? I think they're about the same price/rarity range as chainswords, but I'm not certain.