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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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28454467 No.28454467 [DELETED]  [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

Welcome back to Commissar quest!

Um.. Guys, I am back... ;_;

You are otto schulte, a twelve year old girl on her way to destiny - you are a student of the scholia progenium on besvir, and a prospect to become one of the selected officials to one day lead the great imperial armies in battle, if you survive. Little is know of your past - you only know what your uncle(whom you've got no blood relation to) told you: They where charged with your care before you where old enough to crawl. For as long as you can remember you've lived amongst the stars onboard shiftships traveling the interstellar void of the immaterium.

You've arrived at the scholia progenium of which you where assigned, unfortunately so have Nikkobar the big oaf - a bully of whom you meet just before coming to the scholia, and his gang of misfits! Not all is bad, you've also meet the more friendly planetborn Angelina whom the planet mold seems to have left alright. There is also the "twins" to worry about, and how to survive the practicals, and as ever the ongoing mission to rid the world of your accursed first name "otto" - a administratum fuck up that left you with a boys name.

Your story is only just beginning.

Last week we batteled the eternal enemy, spoke with Angelina and got PAPERWORK.

"19.00 Is overated" - WHN

>> No.28454517
File: 34 KB, 296x345, Loot_Rules_By_Old_Emprah.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Commissar Paste: http://pastebin.com/mpMMvnqk

My twitter: https://twitter.com/CommissarQuest

Roll rules:

Lowest of first three rolls for things the character is skilled at doing.
Median of first three rolls for things the character is "capable" at.
Highest of first three rolls for things the character is utterly shit at.

You have to "beat" your stats (which for now are hidden by popular demand, this may change) so low rolls are good.

Cont post explained:]If there is a post marked at the end with "cont" its becouse your QM is lazy, and can't type fast - or becouse he wants to give you the option to jump into the current events, or offer opinions, if none are offered he'll continue as normal

Disclamer in regards to Re:Spelling: I suck at spelling big time, man - don't read this if bad spelling offends you.

I got a twitter: https://twitter.com/CommissarQuest

>> No.28454533
File: 42 KB, 989x679, FunnyName.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Your standing in front of The Tower, the massive structure towering over the rest of the campus, massive windows framing dominating all four of its clean cut sharp sides, behind them shimmering a slight light hard to make out in the morose fading afternoon sun, you scratch the back of your neck as you look towards the top - the higher you go, the more decorated the tower - saint's, angels and spires all culminating in a central massive spire - smaller then the rest of the tower as it slims into it, but flanked on all sides by sword wielding saints - their blades pointing skywards, their pale stone faces shrouded behind cloth veils.

Snorting once and then rubbing the underside of your nose you head towards the door - the air on planets was so full of.. stuff, it always got in your nose and eyes. Its why you liked the tower - it reminded you of your past life, the oil stained walls and gently humming of cognitators was comforting.

Once inside you head down the corridor, throwing a brief glance at the staircase leading up towards the Administratum's level before hurry onwards, not much further in you step into the big chamber you've come to associate with the Tech Priest - today there is no central table however, as it seems the Adept have managed to restore the Stratigium. Instead you are greeted by the visage of two heavy bulk servitors - their entire right torsos and arms replaced with massive cranes, and the Tech Priest, his mechanical eye rotates in its socket as it focuses on you.

"Are, you ready?" he lets loose in a static discharge of words.

>What do we do?

>"No, I need to ask.. " (Define)
>"Yes, but..." (Define)


>> No.28454778

> Yes!
Gotta be enthusiastic. We want to impress this guy so that he can replace the body parts of our choice with bionics, after all.

>> No.28454897

We sure are.

>> No.28454931

The greatest part of the day has arrived!

>> No.28455164
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http://pastebin.com/NLbeiFpb <-- Journal
You nod at adept with a smile "Yes!" the air smelled of machine oil and the ground shock slightly from the beating of the pistions of the water pumping systems in the background, you felt better then you had been all day. He gives no response to your answer but turns on the spot - his red cloaked robes billowing out around him, the two bulk transporter servitors seems to awake at their masters movment and painstakinly begin to turn - despite their muscular frames and agmentations it seemed that the massive cranes made motion hard on them. You follow the tech priest as he continues deeper into his sanctum - away from the chamber with its cable covered roof into another corridor - much like the one you came through, the servitors walking behind you silently. The pace is quick for a walk, and your forced to ocationally jump over a coiling power coundit or adjust your path to avoid some heafty piece of piping running from the floor - it is then the adept speaks, his voice as clad in metal as his flesh: "You will help with munitions counting. You will count items the servitors unload and package." "Y-yes" you respond, glad that you remembered to bring your data-slate - it will make it much easier.

Moments later the adept sharply turns - and you nearly bump into him - you had not even noticed the gap between the piping and wall widening into a door - the mark of the mechanicus adorning it. The priest swifly keys the nearby wall console, awakening the spirit within and splitting the door open with a groan and a shudder. On the other side you are greeted by a sizable room, sooth covered and dirty - row upon row of shelfs running along its left sides, parting that entire part of the room into aisle, the other section - right ahead was more curious, several massive tables stood there, and right a head a large metal... well hatch? you muse, adorns the wall.

>> No.28455281
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An imperial aquila burnt into the sooth covered metal, still viable through the grime, the adept moved in allowing you a clearer look of the room through the doorway - the floor was hard steel, dirty, but serving its purpose of holding the structure together - the somewhat cold air inside reminding you of being near a coolant chamber inside a starship, you also notice how the tables seemed stocked with small black boxes - unopened. As you step inside your forced to make way for the servitors as they press themselves inside. "The servitors will be packaging these small back boxes - I will be bringing in a few metal containers for them - each of these metal containers will be containing ten of these smaller ones. You will count the big containers used. Ensure you are correct in your assessment, it is important."


The adept turns to look at you briefly. "Do you require speaking?"

>Do we need to talk to him about anything?

>Ask about efficiency of data slate? (See journal)
>Ask about Tech Priesty stuff?
>Elaborate on what we are packaging?


>> No.28455293

>>Ask about efficiency of data slate
We want to know

>> No.28455365

>Ask about efficiency of data slate? Is it because of tech Priesty stuff that made it moreefficient?

>> No.28455574
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"Actually, yes - I want to ask about my Dataslate - it is running more efficient then when I turned it in..." you let the statement hang in the air - confused as to how to best approach the issue. The adept stands silent, a moment slips by before he answers with a spurt of static "I adjusted it slightly, its machine spirit is very active, and was not free to act its will - ask of it no more" "What do you mean by active?" you ask, surprised as you fish the slate out of your pocket to look at it. "Such questions are not to be answered to an non initiate" the adept states flatly, "I.. thank you again for helping me out with this.."you state sincerely, pleased that the adept would take so much of his time to restore your poor slate, you silently vow to ensure you never lose it again. "Now, await me here"

Looking around the room you notice the servitors standing by - your curious if they are intelligent enough to be waiting on their own accord, or if their master gave them some command. Looking over the table, you notice the black boxes again - their surprisingly big, what-ever is inside must be well over a meter long, and quite thick - the boxes looks to be heavy - and their lids carry the imperial aquila stamped on along with a phrase in high gothic you don't understand. For a moment you wonder how the Tech Priest intends to get boxes big enough for ten of these inside - until you are reminded of the massive hatch. That ought to be it. Still your alone in the room and its silent.

>What do we do?

>Check boxes!
>Poke servitors.


Fuck it I want to get somewhere tonight - Aiming to be playing a tad longer then usual. Lets do this!

>> No.28455607

>Check boxes!
Snooping is good.

>> No.28455645

>>Check boxes!

>> No.28455653

>Poke servitors to see if they respond.
>Check boxes!

I would say explore, but we were told to wait here....but poking around the area we are in should be okay!

>Running longer today
Hail Commissar!

>> No.28455724

check boxes.
We can explore after our task is completed.

>> No.28455751

> checking the boxes
It's probably just dragon dildos. Always is.

>> No.28455860
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You gingerly move up to the nearby servitors, their massive bulk covering your field of vision, clad in simple blue overalls with their crude looking mechanical implants and augmentations visible for the worlds to see(Did they ask for this..?) you've never really understood servitors, you "get" them - their purpose, and their inability to act like a normal man, you grew up amongst them - but the techno sorcery to make them seemed to surreal to you - how much did they actually know of the world? Waving a hand in front of one of them you try and catch its attention. Nothing.

A sly smile spreads across your face, that means they're in none-responsive mode and won't follow you around. The adept only said to stay "here" after all, besides - looking inside the boxes won't be to bad will it? You head towards the boxes, the tables overfilled with the meter and a half long blackened containers, upon closer inspection you don't quite recognize the material of the crates their resting in, but its slightly yielding to the touch - yet strong enough to resist your finger from poking through it. The aquila on their "front" or lids - as you know can see is painted metallic black - similar to the boxes, yet - in a different hue to make it stand out. You recognize the high gothic word for "no" in the description- its the same one that rests on your slates negative response.

>What do we do?
>Open a box!
>Let them be - better not.
>Go back to explore the servitors.
>Explore other part of room!


Stop spoiling the entrence to my magical realm

>> No.28455894

>Go back to explore the servitors.

>> No.28455980

>>Open a box!

>> No.28455987

>Go back to explore the servitors

Give me your secrets servitor!

>> No.28456040

>Open a mystery box

>> No.28456042

Let them be. The tech priest might find out and turn us into a toaster.

Let's go back to exploring the servitors instead.

>> No.28456187


this is technically a 'punishment' for messing with the holo-table.... best leave sleeping lions be...

after all, nothing good has 'NO' on it....

>> No.28456311
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>4 In favor of poking the machine men.
You reach out towards the lid of the box with childlike curiously - just a quick peak inside and you'll let it be, you stop yourself dead in your tracks however as you quickly remember the last time you did this. And the time before that - you toss an eye over your shoulder half expecting the Adept to be standing there with a pict recorder but your alone. Deciding that it probably would not be best to look into the black crates - they where no doubt closed for a reason you head towards the servitors again, curious about their nature. Their faces are simple, slack jawed and dull, not a twitch of a muscle as they rigidly stand at attention - your curious where they found men that big in the first place. Most voidborns where rather short compared to the planetborns already - you where nearly as tall as your aunt when you left for Besvir, you where rather proud of your height - and the prospect of never becoming longer haunted you a bit still.

Moments drags on as you wait for the Adept with the servitors - before long however a screeching noise tears at your ears, and your forced to plug them - the smell of planet rushed into the room along with a rush of warmer air - making you shudder slightly, turning to look at the giant hatch you see it slowly sliding to the side - revealing the world outside, a larger.. ground transport stood outside - its rear open and packed with boxes, the sound of an engine running becomes apparent as the large machine slowly rolls back until its opened behind touches the wall around the hatch(lewd) allowing one to step easily from the hatch - into the cargo hold of the vehicle. The Adept of mars whom you've grown accustomed to appears from the same door he left moments later. He strides towards you.

>What do we do?
>Await orders!
>Ask about boxes!
>Ask about servitors(define)

>> No.28456365


Await orders!

The Techpriests don't like interruptions in their work. questions can come after work....

>> No.28456373

>>Ask about boxes!

>> No.28456408

>Await orders!
Let's not push it right now.

>> No.28456414

Await orders!

We can pester him with questions about everything we saw after we are done with our task.

>> No.28456508

await dem orders

>> No.28456541
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You await silently, and the Tech priest takes no real time to order you with more then a quick wave of his hand - as if saying "Get to it", before he turns to walk towards the door you entered the chamber from - you notice the servitors have already moved away, grabbing crates from the vehicle, your not sure when they did - and your surprised something so big moved without you even noticing... The massive servitors being their labor without care for you or anything else, using their free, unagumentated hands to pick up the small black boxes, stuffing them into the larger ones at an alarming rate - and you quickly realize why having someone count them carrying away the larger ones might be a good idea when one of them quickly grabs it with his crane-like free arm and hoists it into the air, lifting of the table easily - despite being fully loaded and moving down towards the aisle - its twin already laboring away with filling another box.

Data-slate in hand you being your toil!

>How good did we count boxes? Give me three 1d100

>> No.28456570

Rolled 49



>> No.28456574

Rolled 76


>> No.28456585

Rolled 95

This should be good.

>> No.28456601

Oh man, we're the COUNTESS!

I'll be here all night.

>> No.28456627

Just a reminder "You have to "beat" your stats (which for now are hidden by popular demand, this may change) so low rolls are good."

I just hope we get a bonus for having our data slate at the ready.

>> No.28456637

Oh right, we roll so rarely I forgot.

>> No.28456731
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The roll gods demands more, and I shall provide.
You hoist up your dataslate and begin ticking of the boxes as the machines let them trickle in - you've always had an eye for finding things, but its tedious work - and very monotone, one box - click the slate, another one - click the slate. Your happy you've got it, for you lost count around twenty in your head, its a long work - as it becomes apperant just how many of the blasted boxes needs to be packed - despite the speed the servitors works with, all the four massive tables needs to be emptied. A minute turns into two, into four - into ten, an hour - another hour, there is no signs of the servitors stopping and you think you've might misscalcuated once or twice - missed a crate here and there, but you've get an otherwise mostly stable count.. you just hope the Tech Priest won't be angry if your slightly of the mark.

You've taken to sit on the corner of the massive hatch - getting of your legs feels good, and there is plenty of space for the servitors to move in and out of the hatch, using the small stair leading up to it - its just half a meter of the ground or so. Scratching your cheek you look over the room again - and tap your slate, another box.


>Its now 00:00 GMT+1 - and I need moar coffe to keep running, we're looking at another 2-3 hours of gaming, at the least, possibility of me sleeping then keeping going tomorow morning.

>> No.28456755

My god, so much Otto...

>> No.28456787
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> we're looking at another 2-3 hours of gaming, at the least, possibility of me sleeping then keeping going tomorow morning.

>> No.28456839

Why do I get the feeling that we are going to recount the boxes just to make sure that we get an exact number?

>> No.28456850

By the way, when you say that you might run in the morning, what time is that, roughly? I have work in the morning which may hamper my ability to participate, but it's pretty early and I shouldn't be there too long.

>> No.28456941


She could always count how many are stacked horizontally, multiply that by how many are stacked vertically then multiply that number by the depth of the stacked crates...

>> No.28457047

Brilliant! We use that strange thing called "math" that we learned about.

>> No.28457213
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You sight, four hours in - the servitors have moved more boxes then you care to think about, and the shelf are stating to slowly fill up, and the tables are mostly empty by now - looking up towards the roof you blink once, the luminators high above bright in your eyes - behind you the outside world filters in through the open hatch, you can hear the sound of people walking around despite the dark sky - night fell while you where around inside, but days where short on besvir something you've grown accustomed to rather quickly - another fact of life, just another silly things planets did. The only interruption to your work was more of the black boxes arriving through the hatch - a tiny respite.

Click - click. Each box carried away gets a mark - you notice you've just passed the four hundred mark... your mind begins working - four hundred times ten? Four thousand! You smile gently, remembering the words of your teacher, happy to have found a use for them - but what could they adeptus really want with all these boxes? "You are relieved" a static voice calls out, you jump slightly at the unexpected voice - standing in the door to the corridor is the Adept - as impassive as always. He lingers for a moment before continuing: "Show me your notes".

You do.

>Your standing next to the adept, who's looking over your dataslate. What do we do?

>Remain silent.
>Ask question(Specify)


>> No.28457230

The Idea is atm to run to 03.00 GMT+1 then sleepy time to 09.00 GMT+1 - then keep going untill afternoon tomorow, after which I'll need to attend the real world. I want to jump start us into the next arch!

>> No.28457234

>Remain silent.
For now.

>> No.28457260


Remain silent. Obviously he is communing with the Machine Spirit of our Data Slate.....

>> No.28457280


>> No.28457310

Remain Silent and pray that with your data slates help you did a good job.

>> No.28457416
File: 247 KB, 1680x1313, 1376569522028.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

You remain silent as the adept tinkers with your slate, moments drags on as he pushes it every now and then.
Looking up from it to peer at the working servitors then back to the slate. He lets lose a series of low noises.
Your not sure what they mean, but you've seen adepts do it before, static, almost like a broken vox unit.
Observing the redclothed man you try and suppress your sense of dread, you've got no way of reading his disposition
The metallic side of his face as impassive as a wall - and his human side is stern - giving like its partner no clear indication
of his opinions of your work. Until at least he turns the slate over in his hand and offers it back. "Satisfactorily, you have completed your given task."
"Thank you" you manage to get our - the adepts mechanical eye whirls around and clicks before he continues:
"I am not very good at reading the flesh child, do you require sustenance? Use of the sanitarium?" you look at him, surprised to hear such words from a priest of mars.
They are generally not concerned with such matters after all.

>Your not -that- hungry, but the idea of dining with the priest is tempting.

>What do we do?

>> No.28457445

Heck yes, let's eat with him. Knowing somebody in the Mechanicus would be pretty rad.

>> No.28457467


"Sustenance would be appreciated"

we have likely missed the designated meal time... also, we may be able to ask if there is some way we can better maintain our Data Slate...

>> No.28457493

Some "sustenance" would be good.
And then we can pester him with questions.

>> No.28457522

It would be funny if we got our favorite yellow paste after all this time.

>> No.28457751
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You remain silent for a moment, pondering the question - you've probably missed dinner, so food would be appreciated, but your also equally interested in actually speaking to the tech priest, tucking away the dataslate in your jacket again you turn and nod at him "Sustenance would be appreciated" he nods, and turns around without a word, no doubt expecting you to follow him - which you do, leaving the room itself was good enough after looking at its walls for hours. The tech priest moves quickly - you've come to realise he's not a man that tardies after all, occasionally you hear him emit those low static sounds but you pay no real heed - its an adept of mars, they -do- that after all don't they?

Suddenly, much like last time he takes a sharp turn and opens a door in the corridor - walking inside. Hurrying up behind him you are greeted by a somewhat sizable room, a single long table standing as its center piece - along with two bolted down rows of benches - its otherwise mostly empty, no decorations adorns the walls aside from a few lone pipes - the walls and floor are a dirty bronze color, rusty almost. The only other thing of note is a series of tubes hanging from the wall to your right - you recognize them as food dispensers, most ships had them. A stack of plastima plates resting nearby. "You know how these work?" the adept asks. You nod, and move to dispense some of the paste - its almost nostalgic in a way as you acquire a pile of the red substance on your plate (Unfortunately, it seems he lacks the yellow one - alas) You sit down opposite of the Adept, he makes no motion to speak - nor any to acquire food of his own - both his mechanical eye and human one regards you coldly.

>What do we do?

>> No.28457790

>Start eating
>Ask why he isn't eating

>> No.28457813

>"If you don't eat, you won't grow strong!"

>> No.28457832

Eat, ask him why he isn't eating, ask about the static sound that we hear ever once in awhile.

>> No.28458101
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You fish out your personal spork from your inner jacket pocket - the shiny piece of metal is another keepsake from your time amongst the stars, and you begin to scoop up the food - its.. mostly like you remember it - fluid, filling and mostly tasteless, which is fine. You play around with the consistency for just a moment before swallowing and turning to talk with your dinner partner: "If you don't eat, you won't grow strong!" you state, parroting your uncles saying between scoops of food. There is a slight static sound - and some of the priests words seems warped, as if he's tuning them into your range of hearing "I forgave the need for food a long time ago, the spirits feeds me now" this surprise you - you've never really heard of a person not needing to it.. but, then again he was a priest, for a moment you fancy asking him how they do it - but you've been around adepts enough to know they like to keep secrets instead you try and skirt the problem by asking: "You make this static noise, what is that? Is something broken?" there is a silence before the adept leans back slightly - his shoulders lowering in a very human manner before he answers - and while emotion is drained from him you could swear he sounds a bit taken back. "I guess that is what it sounds like to your ears - I am speaking Technolinga with my brothers over the vox - it is more efficient then words"

You cock your head to the side - interested. "Can I learn it?" The red clothed man shakes his head "No, it takes years - and much prayer"

>Your still eating.

>What do we do?

>Finish food, leave.
>Ask something else(specify)


>> No.28458156


Ask if the Machines get lonely. We have seen many a time when they are left unused and untended...

>> No.28458169

>>Ask something else(specify)
Ask him if he can teach us to make minor repairs and stuff. If not I guess we can head off.

>> No.28458209

>Finish food, leave.
Remember to thank the emperor and his subjects for it!

>> No.28458262

Let's ask if we can learn anything useful from him, at any point. Tech learnings would be useful to have.

>> No.28458301

Ask if it would be possible to help him out more.

>> No.28458344

Ask him if it would be possible to continue to help with stuff. Maybe mention that we feel at home when we are around the machines.

>> No.28458458
File: 699 KB, 699x660, 1369663874640.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

You scoop up the remainder of the red paste of your plate - and give a quick offer of thanks to the emperor and all that is holy for the food that was provided today - as is due. You then turn to look at your provider and remain silent for a moment before asking "Do machines ever get lonely?" you know their spirits are powerful, and your slightly worried about the one in your slate - it did sacrifice itself for you, and you'd rather not just leave it unattended. "My slate.. I'd rather not it feels I don't appreciate what it did for me - but I can't talk to it like you do.." your shoulders sink slightly at this, you can't help but feel a bit guilty over the whole ordeal, and the idea of the mud still makes you feel like gagging - this slate helped you back then, it was somehow connected to that whole mess you'd rather forget. "They are pleased as long as you use them" he states dryly, before continuing "If you are worried, I can teach you basic rites of appeasement - not today - another time, could always use more help counting boxes, fair trade off."

>He's offering to teach you some of the rituals in return for help!

>What do we do?

>Decline and leave.
>Accept and leave


>> No.28458504

>>Accept and leave

>> No.28458527

>Accept and leave
Should be useful.

>> No.28458536


Otto sure is gaining quite the technical edge.

>> No.28458584

>Accept and leave

Before we leave we should ask his name so we know how to adress him.

>> No.28458622

>Accept and leave
This adept is really nice.

>> No.28458688


Accept and leave.

It is our equipment that will allow us to carry out our duties, let us learn at least how to thank it for it's services...

>> No.28458895
File: 203 KB, 786x1017, 1372127005302.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

You nod quickly - before managing a "Yes, that would be just what I needed - I'll work hard!" - this places soothed you in a way you could not quite explain, just being inside helped you a bit, clear your head.. away from the ground, and sky, and mud - and, well everything .. really. Coming here every now and then seemed like a perfect thing - and if you got to somehow appease the spirit of your slate, it would be even better. "My name is Mercutio Sermalian, you will come here the same time next week and I will have another task for you" he states - his voice cold and hard, but you see something in his human eye you can't quite place. You nod again and turn towards the door - the priest makes no attempt to stop you so you presume the conversation is over.

Your already looking forward to it as you step out into the dark and cold air outside - the stary sky gleaming overhead as you pounder your next action.


>Skip to next day (lecture)
>Skip to Practical (Two days. Give me a 1d100 for random encounter during off time)
>Head to dorms(Where?)
>Head somewhere else(Where?)


>> No.28458912

>Head to dorms(Where?)
Regale the girls with our (perhaps somewhat exaggerated) adventures.

>> No.28458937

Rolled 95

>>Skip to Practical (Two days. Give me a 1d100 for random encounter during off time)

>> No.28458984

Rolled 66

Combine this with a time skip.

>> No.28458993


seconding this course of action

>> No.28458997

Rolled 53

Forgot to link >>28458912

>> No.28459001

I'd like to skip to the practical. The last one was such fun.

>> No.28459197
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You turn your heading towards the girls dormatory, intent to share your experiance with the Tech Priest with Angelina - and her roomate should the odd girl be around, moving across the massive cortyard you're greeted by a quick sight of several of the armored sisters - not the first time you've glanced them, marshing past in the distance towards the dirt gate. Their regal looking silver armor shimmering in the late night air by the light of the moon, the air is chilly, something you've also come to realise with planets - when they enter night cycle the temperatures dip. Its somewhat incovinant. Your talk with Angelina passes rather quickly - you share some of your experiance (she's intrested in particular in the servitors) and the two of you discuss some of your lecture material - in particular the math lecture of the coming day before you part ways again.

You enter your drom without much issue - and soon tuck in for the night.

>Timeskip activated, speeding up for the Practical in two days(And potential random encounters)

>> No.28459290
File: 137 KB, 700x525, 1369429175874.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

>It is now 02:41 GMT+1 and our time for (tonight) have come to an end.

>As usual I'll be around for a few minutes as I unwind for bed, answering questions about Commissar Quest and life in general.

>I am interested in running again once I've caught some sleep - at least from GMT+1 09.00 to the afternoon, potentially longer if real life will cut me some slack - would people want to play at these times?

>I got no talant tree for you yet - its still under construction, my artsy skills have been relocated to university for now. (Curse you uni!) as well as my upcoming DnD campaign.

>If possible I'd like to use this thread for it to avoid clogging up to much - lets see if it still lives by then, but don't bump it unnecissarly.

>Cheers to everyone that showed up tonight, and ran longer then usual with me - its great to be back to running regulary.

>Usual picture was posted edition.

>> No.28459303


>> No.28459375

I'll play at that time. See you then.

>> No.28459415

Rolled 93

That time is good with me and if anything i'm just excited about more Commissar time!

>> No.28459485

Food for thought.
When or if we graduate and become a commissar, we could see about being assigned to the navy instead of the guard considering this love for ships and ship like environments.

>> No.28460272


do the navy even need commissars?

>> No.28462810


>> No.28463954

Members of the navy are just as likely to succumb to cowardice and other personal failures as they are in the guard.

>> No.28464140

But think of the sheer scale of the imperial navy let alone the size of their ships. You would need hundreds of commisars per ship to have one where they are needed.

>> No.28466214


>> No.28466707
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Its morning, the sun is filtering in from outside your window - your not quite sure of the time, but its probably another hour or so before your alarm goes of and its time to hurry of for your first lesson
- Practical, its a morning one, or rather is suppose to take the entire day, you expected to return the following day. Stretching slightly as you lie amongst the comfy sheets you pounder your next
actions while looking up at the white roof of your room. You could always try and get some cleaning done in the morning.. get your kit in order early - means an early breakfast - and a good seat.

>Get up! Do something (specify)
>Get some more sleep(Await alarm)
>Check out your slate for something(speficy)


>> No.28466742

I might have, slightly overslept - sorry about that.

Lets see if people show up - if they do, we'll continue, is not I'll just wait untill next week!

>> No.28466771

I-I'm here Komrade. Also from where did you get those nice 40k pics?

>> No.28466782

>>Get up! Do something (specify)
Go get breakfast.

>> No.28466787

Get up and get a big breakfast in preparation of the day's events

>> No.28466827


get up, go to Angelina, get early breakfast, prepare for practical.

>> No.28466945
File: 1.95 MB, 1253x866, 1373201802282.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Lurking /tg/ for years as a voicefag/writefag
You grunt, and force yourself out of bed in a single fluid motion, leaving the comforting warmth of your bed for the cold air outside.
your beds sheet drags with you for a moment before you gather then up and toss them back over the bed, for now you need to get
dressed and wash yourself up - dropping of your sleeping wear you head for the washing chambers of your quarters - the tiny room
the door to your right leads to, while the water pours over you, you take the time to reflect over the last two days - they where mostly
uneventful, you got a good grade on your math test, stopping by Angelinas place and have her help you really did wonders - she
really good at numbers, your not half bad yourself but the teacher is horrible at explaining anything. Making sure to wash your red short
hair you contemplate your continual... reputation, over the last two days - much like before you've had a great deal of issues talking to
the other kids - your fairly certain Nikkobar is spreading other rumors about you as well. You need to look into that, Angelina tells you
people seem to avoid her as well - as your friend she seems "to be dangerous" as well, or something silly like that.

Stepping outside, the steam billowing out from the cubical you showered in hiding your features in a cloud of white(Censored)
dressing goes fast - you grab your jacket, pants - and reinforced boots, you also make sure you pack your dataslate. Time for breakfast.
The low squat dining hall is mostly empty this time of the day - and they seem to be serving something called "Mash Timlin's with Grox slices"
What-ever that was. As you stand looking out over the mostly empty hall you notice two people you recognizes - in a corner alone sits Nikkobar
in another, closer to you is Angelina, seemingly preoccupied with her slate, not noticing you.

>What do we do?

>> No.28466959

>Sit by Angelina.

>> No.28466967

Sit with Angelina, Nikkobar is a fag

>> No.28466984

>Deathglare at Nikkobar while you walk past

>> No.28467005


Sit with Angelina. We are above Nikkobar. Nikkobar probably doesn't even know how to tie his shoes, let alone how to properly greet an Adept of Mars...

>> No.28467145
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You head towards Angelina - but not before giving Nikkobar the worst glare you can muster up. He's a heretic, and you hope your glare manage to hurt him somehow.
Stepping across the dining hall you you a quick glance outside - the sun is reaching towards the sky - and the shimmering light filtered in casting a warm yellow color over
the sides of the room, reflecting of the white tables and benches bolted down into the checker patterned floor. Angelina looks up at you as you slide down next to her, already
with your spork out and scooping up the "mashed" thing, its like most food on the planet - quite good. "Morning Schulte" she says, putting down her slate on the table
"Trouble sleeping as well?" you shrug at her comment before answering: "I guess, awoke early, been tossing a lot tonight - think its the practical, they still haven't told us
anything at all about it have they?" Your friend runs a hand through her hair with a sight before shaking her head and answering: "No, just that we'll be away for a day"

>You scoop another spoonful of mash, chewing away.
>Your alone with Angelina, what do we do?

>Eat in silence.
>Ask her about something(Specify)
>Tell her about something(Specify) (GM note: She knows about the Tech priest)
>Glare some at nikkobar


>> No.28467156

>>Ask her about something(Specify)
Ask her about any rumors she's heard about you.

>> No.28467193

Ask her about these rumours, and about people seeming to avoid her.

>> No.28467205


seconding >>28467193

>> No.28467281
File: 1.07 MB, 873x648, 1373201883209.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

"So Angelina", you say between chews. "Did you hear any other rumors about me recently?" your companion whom seems to have returned attention to her slate and lazily eating away at her own food answers you after a few moments "Eh, well - nothing new I guess, rumor still have it your some manner of freak from the ships - you know, warp touched or something, either that or that your somehow a mutant, or something more fanciful - like the whole thing with having your brain replaced with tech. Did you have your brain replaced at some point Schulte?" You giggle slightly at that "Of course, its what we do on ships, silly planetborns - but honestly, what about you? Are people still giving you a hard time?" "Nothing new there, still seems to avoid me - I've not hear any rumors about me, but I am sure there are some since I spend time with you - don't really matter however, means I get to be alone - its handy, perhaps we should spread more rumors? At this rate people will be so afraid of us we can walk where-ever undisturbed"

"Well that is an idea" you smile at her.

>Foods finished.

>What do we do?

>Head to practical
>Chat away some more with Angelina ask/tell(specify)*
>Glare some at nikkobar


>> No.28467304

Let's go to the practical. I want to see what insane shit the have lined up for us this time.

>> No.28467308

Find a sheet of metal we can put in our jacket to protect us from lasers. Also so we don't keep breaking our data slate.

>> No.28467328



somehow I think it will be some kind of 'survival' exercise... 'spend then night in the wilds with only a trench shovel and a las-pistol' or some such...

>> No.28467431
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You shallow the last of your food before pushing the plate aside and standing up, practical awaits - "Are you coming Angelina?" you turn and ask your friend - she nods, and gets up herself "Lets get going - I don't want to be late, what-ever it is we're doing" the two of you head outside, the crowd slowly increasing forcing you to elbow your way through to ensure some semblance of dignity remains, it seems people do try and avoid you - for what-ever reason as you continue out into the open, the trip to the southern gate "the dirt gate" is a short one from the mess hall, just around the corner - its massive steel reinforced gates wide open for any and all, the slope bellow it taking you out into the cleared land bellow the Scholia - the "dirt farms" of trenches and similar military exercise halls - you've been told that in this kilometer wide playground of dirt and sand the stormtrooper detachment is housed. You've only meet them once.. and that did not end to well, or really well depending on your outlook. "Think we'll be in the trenches again?" you ask your friend as you make your way across the packed dirt road. "No clue, but the slate said "Practical weapons handling and cleaning" what-ever that means, but I don't really trust it.. if we get that crazy man from last time." you shudder at the thought - where they going to execute another boy in front of you today? The scene still haunted you, the sight of the gore and boiling blood.

A group of kids your own age was gathered not to long from the shoddy check-point leading out into the dirt farm proper. You recognize a few of them, even if you don't know their names. Class mates, deciding for now not to agitate them further you stand to their side with Angelina, looking out over the brown ground, far of in the distance you think you can make out some massive moving black box, but your not certain.

>What do we do?

>Greet the other kids.
>Remain here with Angelina until class starts


>> No.28467442

>>Remain here with Angelina until class starts

>> No.28467445

Commissars are usually outnumbered, only a handfull per thousand troopers - some regiments are so big they never even see their own commissar, and the PDF forces of planets usually have one assigned, but he is attached to several planets at a go. The navy is part of the Imperium, and being assigned there is also a possibility - of course, only very senior Commissars gets to choose their assignments. Hero of the imperium anyone?

>> No.28467466

remain with Angelina, though listen to any rumors spreading though the others...

Maybe one will be so bold or so foolish to approach us and ask us about it...

>> No.28467467

>>Remain here with Angelina until class starts

>> No.28467481


Captca: 40000 lostCtb
I'm not sure what Ctb os, but apparently by the 41st millenium, we've lost it.

According to Sandy Mitchell, anyway. I don't know that the studio fluff has ever said anything to that effct.

>> No.28467612
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Moments drag on, as you stand silent with Angelina, awaiting the arrival of your teacher. The wind blowing gently in your face - billowing dust around the brown dead ground, far of in the distance you see a group of men run across the ground - mere black dots far of in the distance. The air tastes of planet, that curious sticking feeling in your nose, and the cold rush in your lungs as you take a deep breath. Its not unpleasant, but you prefer the air inside a ship to this any day. Its just so, full of "stuff" - you keep catching yourself wanting to sneeze but not quite being able to. Stuffing a hand into your jacket you feel the slate bellow your fingertips, waiting your command like always. Its then you start seeing it approach - a cloud of dust with a core of black anger. Its a blocky vehicle approaching you, you recognize it as the "transport" that your teacher arrived in last time. A heavy looking piece of moving steel. You and the rest of the kids begin to form up - knowing by experience that you don't want to be caught not standing at attention around a teacher - their previous urge not to stand next to you or Angelina evaporates as the group seem to collectively hold their breath while the black steely warmachine comes to a halt before you.

The hatch in the back opens, and out steps a single man - a red stormcloak and a steely face topped by a red hat. "I am Commissar Rim, welcome to your Practical" you recognize him. Its the man from your last practical.

>And its not 12:52 GMT+1 - I overslept today, which was great (not) so we missed about an hour of potential game time, so I pushed a head a bit. Sadly I've got real life commitments coming up. But we did blast through to the Practical.

>This way of doing Commissar Quest might continue in the future, as I can pull that of rather easily, and given how slow my updates are of late (working to improve) might be favorable? Is /tg/ alright with that?

>Sticking around for a bit, etc.

>> No.28467646

True, one of the things about Warhammer lore is that its very "pick your flavor" - I'll be sticking to whats generally accepted as lore for most of the things.

>> No.28467660

I, for one, would be fine with this style of updating being repeated in the future.

>> No.28467690

Yeah, by all means, use the Cain stuff if you want. Was just noting that naval/PDF Commissars don't seem to have been referenced elsewhere (to my knowledge, anyway).

Being a naval commissar would be pretty fun, anyway. From what I'm told, the navy is like this:


>> No.28467721

the lexicanum says there are naval commissars and I'm pretty sure I have read about them in non Cain novels

>> No.28467734

Does not really matter - for the record, as mentioned in the early games, I am drawing most of my inspiration from the Gaunt and Cain series for what makes a commissar. Besides, once we get the talant tree we can always max out Commisary and sing in the navy to boost moral.

>> No.28469175

>you recognize him. Its the man from your last practical.

Yep, this is going to be good.

>> No.28470073

>esides, once we get the talent tree we can always max out Commissary and sing in the navy to boost moral.
Waiting warmly.

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