A slightly smaller Mess

*on the whole they seem confused, but seem to chock it up to emprah*

*you're so helpful edd*

the girl just sighs

the hammerblow hits home, causing the warrior to be knocked back. he does not lose his balance for long however. he begins to chuckle, as two more arms sprout from his body, both tipped with power swords too, as the damage to his chest begins to reverse itself

*The golden glow subsides, and laurence speaks in his own voice* ~Well, enough of that, i suppose. My name is William, i am an inquisitor. I was trying to calm you. They're going to kill you, and it is not going to be pleasant. I'm sorry, i can't get you out of here. I can... if you would prefer. Kill you painlessly, now.~

*Hey he's a ghost sniper, think the crew know where this man is? Nope, go be a genestealer and find him*

*the champion takes a defensive stance, eyes glancing down to where his sword used to be impaled.* "There goes a sword..."

*Unless anyone has any more to say, the journey occurs?*

~Why should we trust some voice in our heads?~

*considering we don't have a detailed map of the ship or anything, that'd just be a waste of time*

the warrior cackles, before the sword emerges from his chest again, hilt first, as if his body is spitting it out

*indeedums*

~I can't exactly flash my rosarius... There is a third option, its practically insane, and maybe one of you will live through it.... But thats the kick, one of you might survive.~

*True, he's in a hangar bay.*

Champion: *he chuckles, and charges forwards again, leading with a pommel strike, into an overhead swing*

*the landing is accompanied by the usual roar of engines, and heavy thump of landing gear, then a lurch as they're dropped another half metre, and another roar as something takes off again*

~Third option?~

*Caiber finds him after a fair bit of searching*

he catches the swing with one left and one right sword, before kicking the champion in the chest, forcing him back. he then begins to advance, spinning those two blades like propellers.

~I attempt to pull of a most likely ill fated rescue attempt and drag you ladies through the warp.~

*The moment he walks through the door he finds a red dot on his forehead*

*the champion smacks the sword hand with his hammer, starting up a figure of eight pattern swing*

~...you want us to trust you...while you take us...through the warp~

Caiber:...well then.

he continues with the spinning, as his other two hands begin to form into bolter weapons

the girl looks at tyren

~Yeah thats why the plan is insane.~

*he can see a figure in the very far corner, sat with his back against the wall, behind a small barricade of flack board, sandbags ammo boxes and camo sheet, a rifle barrel poking out of it*

Tyren: *his cannon barrels start spinning, and the straps holding him down flex*

*there is loud talking outside the container*

*the champion charges in, the appearance of ranged weapons removing his defensive advantage, he has a bolt pistol on his hip, but would be wildly outclassed by a pair of bolters*

~No. I won't trust some random voice in my head, and I won't die here with my dignity gone.~

Caiber:...morning.

Lyanna goes for her weapon, just in case

the bolters open fire, timing the shots to pass through the 'propellers' of the power swords, not unlike the MG on a ww1 biplane

~I'm sorry sister.~

*A bullet ricochets off the deckplate at his feet. Click, clack. A bolt is pulled back, and pushed forwards.*

*From outside the container*
Male voice: "Get this thing open!"
Female voice: "By order of the inquisition get away from that container!"
Male voice: "Show me a rosarius! NO? Then fuck off and let me do my damn job!"
*deafening blows strike the container, like hammers*

*Hits strike the champion, detonating on his armour, his hammer strikes the lefthand sword, then he swings for the left*

~I'm sure you are~ *they are dragged off*

"you really don't need to shoot me...I'm just here to say Hi"

Lyanna: weeeell shit.

with both swords he continues to parry, making sure to catch the hammer below the head with his blades. the bolters continue to fire.

*Laurence plants a tiny tick in every man who touches them. A biological time bomb. A newly forming muscle group in their hearts, the timing will vary, but every one of them will have a heart attack within the month. A fatal heart attack.* ~Emperor be with you sister. Take as many of the bastards with you as you can.~ *he melts away with the disbursing crowd.*

Tyren: "Alright. Ladies, heads down." *He starts to move, the straps holding him down snapping one by one in quick succession*

*the figure stands up, pushing through the camo sheeting, and stepping over the barricade. he's short, about five foot six, thin and lean, and draped in a hooded camo cloak. He's holding a bolt action rifle with wood furniture.*

*The champions already claw shredded armour gives way entirely, the bolt shells hitting flesh. he tries for another swing of the hammer, but collapses in a pool of his own blood, his torso shredded*

*he hears bells tolling from a nearby building, a temple from the looks of it.*

Lyanna: you remember i'm as bulletproof as you are, right?

Caiber: Hi there

the champion lets up, his body returning to normal. "Better than most."

Tyren: "Not autocannon proof. Stay out of my fields of fire if you're coming out." *he steps forwards, the last few straps snapping. His footsteps are thunderous against the containers thin metal walls. His fist meets the doors with a deafening bang as they explode outwards* "KNEEL BEFORE THE MIGHT OF HIS MAJESTIES INQUISITION."

*The champion puts his hands flat to the floor, pushing himself up. The white of his ribcage is plainly visible, the overlapping bone plates have protected his internal organs, but the muscle and flesh over it is a mangled mess of shrapnel and gore.*

*The figure, stops walking closer.* "What is it."

*Laurence makes his way over to it*

Lyanna surveys the scene before acting in any way

"You have spirit. Impressive."

"Guessing you're bandit?"

*the sign reads something like 'temple of all faiths'*

*Laurence makes a mental note to never go inside unless he wants his eyes to bleed*

Bandit: "Yeah."

*The champion grunts, and pushes himself to one knee*

*About two dozen customs officers are arrayed around the container, armed with cut down lascarbines with folding wire stocks. They seem to be in some kind of container park, to both sides of them is a long line of containers of varying colours. The inquisitorial team is there, standing off against the customs officers*

*well....alright*

"I'm Caiber. Figured if we're gonna end up fighting together, we should probably know who the fuck eachother are."

"Still want to try this?"

Lyanna has her sidearm in hand, just in case. she has her armour on btw.

*he goes back into the forum, and looks for a weapons dealer. A good place to start when it comes to dodgy people usually.*

*he sniffs* "I'm bandit."

*The champion lifts his helmet off, and spits blood on the deck.* "I know... when i am beaten."

Tyren: "ON YOUR KNEES!" *He sweeps his autocannon left and right, barrels spinning, to emphasise his point. It is obeyed*

*The woman who seems to be in charge of the inquisitorial team has produced a pair of six inch silver needles from somewhere, and is holding them between her index and middle fingers*

*he finds a fairly prominent looking one before long*

Caiber: Man of few words I take it.

Warrior: A submission it is. *he chuckles* Well My lord, I hope you are satisfied.

Lyanna watches, silently

*He walks inside*

"Yep."

*the champion struggles to his feet.*

*The leader of the inquisitorial team gestures to the man with a bolter.* "Get them cuffed." *and he does so, handcuffing them with disposable plastic cuffs*

he sees a fairly large, bearded man behind the counter, a lot of weapons on the wall and in glass cabinets

"I can respect that"

*a cold, metallic sound begins to resonate through the hanger. Like clapping, but if your hands were iron*

Lyanna: well, guessin this wasn't part of the plan?

*Laurence half pretends to inspect the contents of a cabinet, while gently picking at the mans surface thoughts*

"Uhuh."

Leader: "No, it wasn't but its under control. Thankyou, lord astartes." *nods at tyren.* "Jonan, over behind the office. The walls solid."

*the burly man, now identified as Jonan, starts ordering the cuffed customs officers to line up facing the wall of the customs office building, at the end of the line of containers, past a mesh fence*

*the champion looks over to the source, leaning on the haft of his thunderhammer*

*seems to be a fairly typical weapons merchant. Ex military too. One eye.*

Caiber:.... you don't seem to give a shit about the whole non human thing

Lyanna: what will you do with them?

a large man, in cataphractii pattern terminator armour, a servo arm tipped with a meltagun emerging from the shoulder, has entered the room. he is indeed clapping.

*Laurence walks over towards the counter.* "Hey, you have any .45 ammunition?"

Bandit: *Shrugs* "On our side."

Leader: "Well, they've seen the pair of you." *looking from her to tyren.*

*The champion effects a slight bob, that, if construed generously could be considered a bow*

"Forty five? Aye we do. Don't get a lot of people askin for it though."

Caiber:...I like you.

Lyanna:....right

"Most wouldn't be standing after a bout with Cregan."

*he pulls an absolutely exquisite pistol from inside his coat, lays it on the countertop, and ejects the magazine. It is all black, with chromed writing across the slide saying "Tronvasse .45" handle scales of a glossy black material of unknown origin, which shines with an almost matte light.* "Well I'm attached to the piece."

Bandit: "Nice." *Nods a bit*

Leader: "Well what would you do with them?" *puts a hand on her hip, still holding the silver needles*

Champion: "I am only barely."

"Wow.... that's damn good craftsmanship"

Caiber: So...anything you want to know about me then?

Lyanna: not my call.

Warsmith: Indeed. Remember that.

Laurence: "It is a nice one isn't it?" *he gestures that the man can pick it up.*

Bandit: "Not really."

Leader: "Well, glad to hear it" *Over behind the office building, a bolter roars on full auto.*

Champion: "Not... expecting... an obli...terator..."

he does so, inspecting it
"I don't recognise the craftsman's signature... guessing you got it off world?"

Caiber: fair enough.

Lyanna says nothing

Warsmith: I noticed.

*Tronvasse is a rather famous imperial brand.*
Laurence: "Yeah, custom tooled."

Bandit: *Silence*

*Jonan comes back* "Done and done."

Champion: "It was an honour to fight you." *looking at the warrior*

"Not bad. Aye, I've got ammo for 'er."

Caiber:....

Lyanna: where to now then?

the warrior just chuckles

Laurence: "Do you do custom ammunition..?" *he picks up the magazine, and pops a single bullet from it* "Like this, say?" *he pushes the bullet across the counter. Its full silver, unlike standard .45 ammunition it has a pointed penatrator, with a lighter, shining diamantine tip.*

Bandit: "That it?"

Leader: "The safe house. We'll stage this to look like a gang raid."

Champion: *Looks at the warmaster* "Thankyou, my lord."

He examines it "Aye, though it'll take a bit obviously....that's some damn nasty ammo you've got there"

Caiber: guess so. Don't shoot me at any point, okay?

Lyanna: lead the way then.

*warsmith*
Warsmith: For what?

Laurence: "It pays to be prepared. obviously work like this will be... exorbitant, to say the least, but you've already guessed i can pay."

Bandit: "Stay on my side, and alright."

Leader: *Walking off* "We've got a truck waiting."

Champion: "Your complement, and this opportunity."

"Indeed I have..."

Caiber: sounds good to me.

Lyanna looks at tyren

Warsmith: Not an opportunity. A lesson.

Laurence: *he looks behind him* "Do you have, a... back room we could talk? Discuss commissions like this a bit more privately?"

Bandit: "Good."

Tyren: *he nods a little, and twists 180 degrees at the waist to look for the girl, his cannon has stopped spinning.*

Champion: "I understand."

"...I might do"

Caiber:...bye then

she's still stood there

Warsmith: good. *turns to the chapter master*

Laurence: "lead the way, good sir." *he picks up the tronvasse, pockets the loose round, and slides the mag home.*

Bandit: "Bye." *he wanders back over to his little den.*

Tyren: "Come on." *he starts walking, and turns his torso back to front*

*the chapter master stands there, waiting to be addressed. Apparently not content to be addressed by a look alone*

He calls over someone to watch the front and leads laurence into a back room

Caiber leaves

the two follow

*well he's gonna have to be*

*Laurence follows*

*They come to a hole cut in the fencing, and a cargo 8 waiting beyond, the hole is large enough for tyren, essentially a hole panel chopped out*

*Initiate stare off*

*once they're there*

continued following

*is winning*

Laurence: "I'm sure you can tell i am an unusual customer."

*The doors are opened by someone inside, a young man, dressed in the same black armoured bodyglove as the others. The leader steps up inside, and Jonan covers their backs with his bolter up*

*Tyren steps up into the truck and the back suspension drops considerably*

Chaptermaster: "Warsmith."

"Just a tad"

Lyanna follows, hand near her weapon, the girl also

Warsmith: Indeed. And what rank do you go by? You warbands have so many I can't keep track. Skulltaker, great sorcerer, Captain, Lord, Apostle, Champion, Lord of contagion, so many names for the same damn thing.

Laurene: "What i do, needn't concern you, as for what i need, weapons and munitions of the highest possible quality, money is not an issue."

*Jonan climbs into the truck, and closes the door behind them, then sits down. The truck lurches beneath them.*

Chaptermaster: "I see no reason to change it. I am a Chaptermaster."

"Hm... well I suppose that can e done"

Lyanna looks over at tyren, surprised it can carry his weight

Warsmith: *chuckles* if you say so.

*tyren is stood at the far end of the cabin, putting his weight in between the second and third set of wheels. it is an eight wheeler truck, so, rather sturdy. It also appears to have had armour plating bolted to the inside walls.*

Laurence: "Again, money is no object." *he takes out a thin black case, and puts it down on the countertop, then opens it. Twinkling inside are rows of size ordered, sparkling white diamonds.*

Chaptermaster: "Why spend the time pondering names, when i could dedicate myself to making war."

"How much would you need?"

Lyanna settles in for the ride

Warsmith: most do so to separate themselves from their past lives.

Laurence: "Not a huge amount. That might change."

*Tyren stands silent*

Chaptermaster: "I am unashamed of our previous actions."

"I need specifics if i'm going to be making bullets for you, buddy"

*waiting montage*

Warsmith: is that so?

Laurence: "Lets start with ten magazines worth. one hundred and twenty of these."

*the truck stops a few times, and turns many times, then stops, and the engine dies. Rain is pattering on the roof. The journey took over an hour.*

Chaptermaster: "Even under the whim of our Progenitors, we accomplished great things." *its very much said as a statement.*