Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 6, 2004 10:54:47 GMT -5
Originally posted by Inquisitor Dionzi
ShadowHawk, third daughter of the late Governor YassarHawk, executed for treason and one hundred and eighty-three counts of murder and Chaos worship, sat in a dark corner of Uorun's Tavern. Her back was against the pitted plastcrete wall, one long, lithe leg casually placed on the seat in front of her. She raised a bottle of 'Sprits to her lips and gazed at the new comer to the bar.
He was a tall man, roughly, oh, eight feet tall, and wore armour of powered ceramite. He carried a glaive in his armoured hand, and he had to stoop in order to refrain from hitting his head on the jagged rock ceiling. He spoke to Uorun in a low rumbling bass, and the bartender pointed toward her corner. The man looked in her direction, nodded at Ouron, and strode purposefully toward her.
ShadowHawk thudded her armoured boot down on the rock floor and discreetly drew her bolt pistol: a relic from her time in the Jurtan PDF. The man knelt beside the table, for it was obvious that the spindly stool would not hold his massive frame. He looked at ShadowHawk.
"Lady Uylyssa ShadowHawk. There is no need for that." He gestured and her hand removed itself from the ivory hilt of her gun. "I am Inquisitor Dionzi. I wish to hire you."
ShadowHawk thingyed one elegant eyebrow. This was a change. Any inquisitor that knew her name was usually trying to kill her for her "crimes". This Dionzi seemed completely unaware that she was being persecuted.
"Why do you want to hire me? How did you find me?"
"To the first, because you're the best, and you are here. To the second, I merely traced the corpses left behind you when you fled from your family home." ShadowHawk started. He did know. She again tried to draw her bolt pistol, but again her hand refused to do her bidding.
"Not many people in your household utilize a Jurtan bolt pistol, milady. Especially not one that fires plasma cartriges." He smiled kindly. "I took the liberty to incinerate the corpses to prevent anyone else from tracking you here."
"Regardless, Inquisitor," she spat the title out like it was something foul, "I am not for hire - not to you or anybody. I am in business for myself, and -"
Dionzi nearly broke the table in half as he smashed his fist into its surface. Patrons jumped, and many actually drew weapons. When the man spoke, his voice was dangerously low, and his eyes snapped with anger. "I have traced you here to give you a warning, preventing those who would kill you from finding you, or the obvious trace you left in your wake. If you would survive, you shall listen to me and do my bidding." He raised his voice to cut through the crowd's hum. "You are under arrest by the order of The Almighty Emperor's Inquisition. To resist warrents immediate death." His fist connected with her temple, and she blacked out.
Dionzi was displeased with himself. He actually lost control of his temper for the first time in years. He was at the end of his ropes. He had to answer Inquisitor Wood's summons quickly, yet he needed to maintain some sort of presence in the system. The unconscious ShadowHawk thumped lightly against his breastplate, but Dionzi paid her no heed. He thumbed a button on his wristplate. The Skipray revealed itself, a building before him shimmered and disappeared, revealing the small ship sitting in a small crater.
Valar 1875 opened the side hatch, and Dionzi ran up the ramp just as ShadowHawk began to come to.
She blinked and tried to raise a hand to her throbbing temple, but she found she could not move. She opened her eyes and found that Dionzi was holding her out at arms' length, staring directly into her eyes. "You will listen," he said. "You will obey, or you will die. Not by my hand, but by your own. Your foolishness will cost you your life." He plunked her down on a hard surface.
"Soon you will be contacted by someone. They will ask you to accept a mission as a corporate assassin. I know not who they are, but only what they wish to do." He handed her a small obsidian box. It was ornate, silver scrolling almost completely concealing the tiny hinges at the back of the lid. "This is an Inquisitorial Seal. With it, you will be able to follow any course of action you deem neccessary. But use it with caution."
ShadowHawk merely stared. She was stunned to silence - this man thought he could just burst into her life and command her to do something? Not a chance. She rose to her feet - or at least tried to. Dionzi shot her a murderous glare. "You will leave when you are told. Yes, I can command you to do what I will. I know you to be innocent of your father's crimes. I know you had not seen him or even any of your family or their servants for nearly twenty years. Because you are innocent, you will serve me."
ShadowHawk was finally convinced. She lowered her head meekly, and a lock of purple hair fell accross her eyes. She couldn't speak. Tears welled in her eyes, and she nodded.
"Good." Dionzi knelt in front of her and raised her eyes to his, his hand gently cupping her chin. "Listen now."
The next hour was spent in briefing. Dionzi gave her new armour - an adamantium breast plate, greaves and bracers. Eldar by manufacture, it had been blessed and purified until no taint of the Xenos race remained. It was completely bare of ornamentation, but golden ropes held her holster and sheaths tight to her body. A high collar protected the back of her neck, and her formerly long black hair had been shorn tight to the back of her neck, with two long wings sweeping back from her forehead. A silohette of a hawk in flight was now tatooed in red, black and mightnight blue around her left eye and back into her hairline.
Dionzi had given her more ammunition for her Jurtan bolt pistol, blessed plasma cartriges, and three throwing daggers poisoned with Bloodfire hung inverted in sheaths down the leftside of her chest. Two Stasis grenades and four frag grenades lined her belt. She wore a Triplex pattern lasgun across her back.
"One last thing," said Dionzi. "You need some sort of identification..." He lowered his head in thought. He than keyed his commlink and muttered into it. The door behind him swished open, and a grotesque metallic creature handed a handful of glittering somethings to Dionzi before leaving. ShadowHawk saw a glistening metal tail before the door closed.
"Take off your armour, ShadowHawk." She hesitated. He whipped around faster than she could see. The palm of his hand impacted hard against her sternum and she flew backwards onto the floor. Dionzi lept and his armoured knee clanged loudly against the decking beside her hip. He reached around and touched the clasp keeping her armour plating secure around her chest.
The adamantium plates clanged loudly to either side, revealing small well formed breasts laced with hairline scars. Dionzi touched his hand to ShadowHawk's breastbone before replacing the armour. He said, "If anything happens to me, this will glow. You will feel it. If I need you, it will burn."
ShadowHawk blacked out, and when she came to, she was back in her room in Uorun's Tavern. Her head was no longer hurting, and her chest was fine. Now she was confused. She looked around, trying very hard to believe that she had been merely dreaming.
But it was not to be. A lattice-work crate was beside the door, and suddenly her chest warmed...
ShadowHawk walked frantically to the 'fresher and unbuttoned her tunic. She looked in the mirror and groaned.
An I was emblazoned upon her chest between her breasts; A crimson and gold "I" superimposed upon a black, silver and violet hawk in flight...
ShadowHawk was born.
OOC: Currently, she's on Jurtan IV's largest moon, Hawk's Roost. It is in stationary orbit around Jurtan IV, and only the dark side is habitable - An ancient space elevator had gone nuclear and the fallout has destroyed habitablility on the planet-side. She is in a hab-station called "Uoron's Nest". She's in a plush back room of a tavern, Uoron's Tavern, owned by Uorun.
Dionzi
"Being of fragile hearing, Rosebud retreated and spent the rest of the day in repose under a willow, reading literature of some note... the two turnips stuck in his ears making life bearable. But only barely."
- The response of the world's last Basselope following an Emperor's Children concert.
ShadowHawk, third daughter of the late Governor YassarHawk, executed for treason and one hundred and eighty-three counts of murder and Chaos worship, sat in a dark corner of Uorun's Tavern. Her back was against the pitted plastcrete wall, one long, lithe leg casually placed on the seat in front of her. She raised a bottle of 'Sprits to her lips and gazed at the new comer to the bar.
He was a tall man, roughly, oh, eight feet tall, and wore armour of powered ceramite. He carried a glaive in his armoured hand, and he had to stoop in order to refrain from hitting his head on the jagged rock ceiling. He spoke to Uorun in a low rumbling bass, and the bartender pointed toward her corner. The man looked in her direction, nodded at Ouron, and strode purposefully toward her.
ShadowHawk thudded her armoured boot down on the rock floor and discreetly drew her bolt pistol: a relic from her time in the Jurtan PDF. The man knelt beside the table, for it was obvious that the spindly stool would not hold his massive frame. He looked at ShadowHawk.
"Lady Uylyssa ShadowHawk. There is no need for that." He gestured and her hand removed itself from the ivory hilt of her gun. "I am Inquisitor Dionzi. I wish to hire you."
ShadowHawk thingyed one elegant eyebrow. This was a change. Any inquisitor that knew her name was usually trying to kill her for her "crimes". This Dionzi seemed completely unaware that she was being persecuted.
"Why do you want to hire me? How did you find me?"
"To the first, because you're the best, and you are here. To the second, I merely traced the corpses left behind you when you fled from your family home." ShadowHawk started. He did know. She again tried to draw her bolt pistol, but again her hand refused to do her bidding.
"Not many people in your household utilize a Jurtan bolt pistol, milady. Especially not one that fires plasma cartriges." He smiled kindly. "I took the liberty to incinerate the corpses to prevent anyone else from tracking you here."
"Regardless, Inquisitor," she spat the title out like it was something foul, "I am not for hire - not to you or anybody. I am in business for myself, and -"
Dionzi nearly broke the table in half as he smashed his fist into its surface. Patrons jumped, and many actually drew weapons. When the man spoke, his voice was dangerously low, and his eyes snapped with anger. "I have traced you here to give you a warning, preventing those who would kill you from finding you, or the obvious trace you left in your wake. If you would survive, you shall listen to me and do my bidding." He raised his voice to cut through the crowd's hum. "You are under arrest by the order of The Almighty Emperor's Inquisition. To resist warrents immediate death." His fist connected with her temple, and she blacked out.
Dionzi was displeased with himself. He actually lost control of his temper for the first time in years. He was at the end of his ropes. He had to answer Inquisitor Wood's summons quickly, yet he needed to maintain some sort of presence in the system. The unconscious ShadowHawk thumped lightly against his breastplate, but Dionzi paid her no heed. He thumbed a button on his wristplate. The Skipray revealed itself, a building before him shimmered and disappeared, revealing the small ship sitting in a small crater.
Valar 1875 opened the side hatch, and Dionzi ran up the ramp just as ShadowHawk began to come to.
She blinked and tried to raise a hand to her throbbing temple, but she found she could not move. She opened her eyes and found that Dionzi was holding her out at arms' length, staring directly into her eyes. "You will listen," he said. "You will obey, or you will die. Not by my hand, but by your own. Your foolishness will cost you your life." He plunked her down on a hard surface.
"Soon you will be contacted by someone. They will ask you to accept a mission as a corporate assassin. I know not who they are, but only what they wish to do." He handed her a small obsidian box. It was ornate, silver scrolling almost completely concealing the tiny hinges at the back of the lid. "This is an Inquisitorial Seal. With it, you will be able to follow any course of action you deem neccessary. But use it with caution."
ShadowHawk merely stared. She was stunned to silence - this man thought he could just burst into her life and command her to do something? Not a chance. She rose to her feet - or at least tried to. Dionzi shot her a murderous glare. "You will leave when you are told. Yes, I can command you to do what I will. I know you to be innocent of your father's crimes. I know you had not seen him or even any of your family or their servants for nearly twenty years. Because you are innocent, you will serve me."
ShadowHawk was finally convinced. She lowered her head meekly, and a lock of purple hair fell accross her eyes. She couldn't speak. Tears welled in her eyes, and she nodded.
"Good." Dionzi knelt in front of her and raised her eyes to his, his hand gently cupping her chin. "Listen now."
The next hour was spent in briefing. Dionzi gave her new armour - an adamantium breast plate, greaves and bracers. Eldar by manufacture, it had been blessed and purified until no taint of the Xenos race remained. It was completely bare of ornamentation, but golden ropes held her holster and sheaths tight to her body. A high collar protected the back of her neck, and her formerly long black hair had been shorn tight to the back of her neck, with two long wings sweeping back from her forehead. A silohette of a hawk in flight was now tatooed in red, black and mightnight blue around her left eye and back into her hairline.
Dionzi had given her more ammunition for her Jurtan bolt pistol, blessed plasma cartriges, and three throwing daggers poisoned with Bloodfire hung inverted in sheaths down the leftside of her chest. Two Stasis grenades and four frag grenades lined her belt. She wore a Triplex pattern lasgun across her back.
"One last thing," said Dionzi. "You need some sort of identification..." He lowered his head in thought. He than keyed his commlink and muttered into it. The door behind him swished open, and a grotesque metallic creature handed a handful of glittering somethings to Dionzi before leaving. ShadowHawk saw a glistening metal tail before the door closed.
"Take off your armour, ShadowHawk." She hesitated. He whipped around faster than she could see. The palm of his hand impacted hard against her sternum and she flew backwards onto the floor. Dionzi lept and his armoured knee clanged loudly against the decking beside her hip. He reached around and touched the clasp keeping her armour plating secure around her chest.
The adamantium plates clanged loudly to either side, revealing small well formed breasts laced with hairline scars. Dionzi touched his hand to ShadowHawk's breastbone before replacing the armour. He said, "If anything happens to me, this will glow. You will feel it. If I need you, it will burn."
ShadowHawk blacked out, and when she came to, she was back in her room in Uorun's Tavern. Her head was no longer hurting, and her chest was fine. Now she was confused. She looked around, trying very hard to believe that she had been merely dreaming.
But it was not to be. A lattice-work crate was beside the door, and suddenly her chest warmed...
ShadowHawk walked frantically to the 'fresher and unbuttoned her tunic. She looked in the mirror and groaned.
An I was emblazoned upon her chest between her breasts; A crimson and gold "I" superimposed upon a black, silver and violet hawk in flight...
ShadowHawk was born.
OOC: Currently, she's on Jurtan IV's largest moon, Hawk's Roost. It is in stationary orbit around Jurtan IV, and only the dark side is habitable - An ancient space elevator had gone nuclear and the fallout has destroyed habitablility on the planet-side. She is in a hab-station called "Uoron's Nest". She's in a plush back room of a tavern, Uoron's Tavern, owned by Uorun.
Dionzi
"Being of fragile hearing, Rosebud retreated and spent the rest of the day in repose under a willow, reading literature of some note... the two turnips stuck in his ears making life bearable. But only barely."
- The response of the world's last Basselope following an Emperor's Children concert.