The Ruinous Powers (40K CYOA)

[Jester]

A

 

[oscar]

Interesting 'Detox' appears to be projecting an image of a fit and handsome man to the crew.

A

 

[Nevill]

B>C

Tally

Smashing Axe B
Nevill B>C
Elfberserker C
Inf0mercial C
Baltika9 E>C
Major_Blackhart E
Undead Phoenix A
ightbane D
Violet C
Grimgravy A
Jester A
oscar A
hello friend E>D
archaen C
Esquilax A>B
The Brazilian Slaughter B

A - 5
B - 3 (2) Nevill -> C
C - 4 (6)
D - 1
E - 3 (2) Baltika9 -> C

 

[hello friend]

E>D

 

[archaen]

C

 

[Esquilax]

I'd prefer to avoid talking to Detox, for now at least. We sort of both know where we both stand, and I think that's enough for now. He knows we're a recently created Chaos Champion, and we know he's one as well. I'd rather first talk to someone who we don't really know very well right now.

Based on the list so far, the name that intrigues me the most is the chaplain. We don't know where he stands, whether he's been corrupted (perhaps by the likes of Tzeentch?) or he's still a devotee of the Emperor. The fact that our character's skin was tingling outside of the doorway and the wording of choice E was written as "Face the Chaplain" rather than "Talk to the Chaplain" seems to imply that he has not been corrupted. Ideally, there would be a way to tempt him into our services and to knock off these rivals of ours for us, but I think that it requires something a bit more delicate than just barging into his room right now. My initial suspicion is that he is aware of the corruption around him, but has been biding his time and laying low for now.

As for the other names, not sure what we could do with the Tech-Priest, but Sargeant Hooker intrigues me. She might serve Slaanesh as we do based on the scribe's reaction and her own tendency towards seclusion. Not quite sure how to feel about seeing her, I'm iffy on it.

That being said, I think that the best way for now to gain power is to simply gain favour among the prisoners. Obtaining some info from them seems like a good first step.

A > B

 

[Baltika9]

5. He's literally blind and can't see the corruption around him.

 

[Cheesecake]

^^Thanks for the tally again. Get ready for exposition.

You decide to revisit the apothecary. You leave the scribe where he is, red-faced, and retrace your steps to the medicae. After fifteen minutes of being ogled at while walking, you find yourself at the open-counter of the medicae. Detox is once again sorting his chems and pills. You cough to get his attention.

The jolly man swings around, mouth stretched into a grin revealing rotted, grey teeth. "Welcome, sister, welcome! I'm sorry you have to see this place so horridly pristine, but rules are rules." He delicately places his work down. "What's your name?"

"I'm Lena Cythriel." You lean in. "Are you," you begin, raising a brow, "favored?"

The apothecary gurgles, wheezing out in airy rasps. You realize he's laughing. "Yes! But I have to hide my gifts to the servants of the Imperium, I'm afraid. His orders, I'm sure you understand."

You nod. You deem it unnecessary to use your unholy charms - Detox seems to love you in a familial sense, brother to sister. "So how are you hiding yourself from the others?" You can't seem to see his disguise as the scribe did, but it seems to work very well.

He wheezes again, laughing in his gurgling voice. "He's full of surprises, he is! Despite our differences, we've all got to put aside our petty squabbling for the progression of Chaos!"

"Chaos?"

He smiles, his lips covered in sores and pustules. "Yes, my dear. I forget that you're only a child! Chaos, my sweet sister! Once, in our previous lives, we scarcely knew of them. We thought of them as monsters in the dark, something our mothers said to make us behave."

You look at your hands. This is real. All the stories were real. Detox takes your delicate hands in his huge paws. "The only ones who really know of us are the Inquisition and the Space Marines. Scary bastards."

"Inquisition? The Space Marines? They're real?" Your eyes widen. The legends really are true. The Angels of the Emperor really did exist, just like the old stories they told back home. Legends say an Angel descended from a kingdom of iron in the sky, a thousand years ago, and single-handedly banished a daemon back to the Land of Dead Crops. You begin to realize that this might hold a grain of truth.

"They're all real, my dear Lena." His grip tightens, though you don't feel it, of course. "That's why we must band together!"

"Why have you banded together with the captain? He doesn't seem the amicable sort."

"We all share a same goal: to find the sorcerer who made us who we are. I want to thank him! Bringing me closer to our Papa was the greatest gift ever given to me! Captain Ramsay wants to rip the sorcerer apart. A shameful display of gratitude! I'm not sure about the others, though."

"Others? Can you tell me who they are?"

The apothecary looks around warily. "No, I'm sorry, sis." His tone is hushed. "It's his rules; safety first, as he said it. We aren't ready to convert the crew just yet. Not with him on board." He sees the disappointed pout on your face. "But I let you see me for who I am because we're family. The captain showed himself to you, didn't he? He doesn't care much for his rules."

Whose rules? The hair on the back of your neck stands. You feel someone watching you.... You can hear the mechanical whir of a camera watching. Detox seems to see it too. His voice lowers even more. "You'll have to find out who's who for yourself. But keep yourself hidden! His plans must not be disrupted, especially with Tempestus here."

"Can you at least tell me about the chaplain?"

Detox opens his mouth to speak, but a squad of mercenaries on patrol pass by. Detox sadly shakes his head. Seeing you disappointed, his face lights up as an idea runs through his head. He scrounges through a cabinet and procures a huge syringe. Inside swirls a liquid, toxic-green and bubbling violently. He presses it in your hand.

"Think of this as a present for your new life! Happy birthday, Lena!" His decayed face smiles. He seems proud of the concoction inside the syringe. "It's a special brew I made. A hobby of sorts. Have fun with it!"

A pager rings from inside the medicae. "Got to go! Someone's been crushed underneath some junk in the loading bay. Again. You know where to find me!"

And with that, you're left alone with a syringe in your hand. You decide to:

A. Interrogate the prisoners.
B. Talk to Captain Ramsay.
C. Talk to Sergeant Hooker.
D. Visit Tech-Priest Entek.
E. Face Chaplain Tempestus.
F. Wander around.
G. Do something else: ___

((Not a lot of action here. Just some expo for now.))

 

[Smashing Axe]

A - Since we're being watched, let's not seem like a complete insurrectionist. I'm also very glad we missed the chaplain.

 

[Baltika9]

A

 

[Major_Blackhart]

A

 

[Esquilax]

A - Since we're being watched, let's not seem like a complete insurrectionist. I'm also very glad we missed the chaplain.

As am I. The chaplain is someone that our seductress can hopefully manipulate into going after our "friends" here, not someone we confront directly. While I am happy that my suspicions were correct, I'm a little pissed off that Detox never told us anything we didn't already know. Might have been better to talk to someone else.

That being said, I'll vote with the bAndwagon.

 

[Nevill]

I'm a little pissed off that Detox never told us anything we didn't already know.

'Don't talk to Tempestus unless you know what you are doing' sounds like a solid clue we didn't have before.


We are being watched, but not by the captain. The Detox isn't afraid of him.

We should hide ourselves, yes, and we should not see Tempestus without a pressing need. We also shouldn't ask everyone we come across about the Chaos infestation, but that was the case before, 'his' orders or not.

I think we can easily go and talk to other staff. We need to separate captain's orders and 'his' rules, whoever he may be. Interrogating the prisoners was the captain's idea, and we aren't breaking 'his' directives by loitering around.

C. Hooker was the second-most popular option before, so maybe she has a chance.

 

[lightbane]

I think the techpriest is also a chaos follower, perhaps a Tzeench one, explaining the camera thing. Either way, let's pretend we're going to do our work. I vote for A.

 

[Inf0mercial]

C

 

[asxetos]

A.

 

[Grimgravy]

A

 

[hello friend]

C

 

[Endemic]

A.

 

[Cheesecake]

Votes

A: Smashing Axe, The Brazilian Slaughterer, Baltika9, Major_Blackhart, Esquilax, lightbane, asxetos, Grimgravy, Endemic
B:
C: Nevill, Inf0mercial, hello friend,
D:
E:
F:
G:

A. Interrogate the prisoners.

No time to waste.... The voice that is both melodic and cacophonous envelops your mind. Now is the time to prove yourself to the Prince of Pleasure! No.... A gurgling voice struggles with the first. Use the syringe....

Your walk back to the holding cells are punctuated by the bickering of the two voices. You see the faces of two bored guards, who perk up when they see you approaching. Their muscles flex and their chests inflate, each trying to make the other look smaller. Idiots.

"Show me the prisoners. The one the captain wants me to 'entertain'." The guards look sullen, and sit back down disappointed. "I meant I'm going to torture them, you twits." Your face must have reflected your mood, as the guards look terrified. The guards hurriedly take out their digital keys and open the first cell.

You step inside. The cell is clearly less furbished than your own, with only a cot and a pail for his personal business. "Careful, ma'am. That man's a filthy heretic. As soon as you're done, Tempestus is having him flayed."

The heretic in question is in rags and chains. His pallid skin is tattooed with symbolism common in pirates in your sector, and one tattoo on his chest is the Chaos Star. He looks at you, eyes baleful. "What do you want, bitch?"

You snap your fingers and have the guards bring in your tools. "I want you to tell me every little thing you know." You pick a particularly big scalpel.

"What, exactly?" His tough facade falters for a second. That uncertainty is all you needed. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"We'll get to that."

----

Mertyn had put on his earmuffs. To be honest, he looks like an idiot, but right now you envy him. The screaming had become unbearable, and if you left your post again Captain Ramsay would probably have you jettisoned into the void.

"Mertyn," you start. He can't hear, too busy watching his holotape. "Mertyn!"

He nearly falls out of his chair. "Sir! Oh, it was just you. Emperor damn you, Jeb, what do you want?" He hurriedly adjusts his earmuffs as another scream escapes from the holding cell.

"How much longer, Mert?" This feels like the longest shift of your life. She had already gone through three of the prisoners. You were too afraid to look inside the cells.

"How much longer until she stops? Or until our shift ends? I'd bank on the second option," he winces as another scream pierces his earmuffs. "'Cause I don't think she'll stop anytime soon."

You shake your head. You signed with some pretty messed up companies in your life, but this ship had to take the cake. Captain Ramsay seems more animal than man, and you always wonder what's underneath his toga. A captain is a king of his ship, but Ramsay is a tyrant, even among mercenary standards. He's jettisoned nearly twenty men in the span of a year, and probably more before you signed up.

It's never fun to get hit by las or a slug, but to add insult to injury the only apothecary aboard is Detox. Even though he's the spitting image of health, there's something off. A smell like a corpse that's rotted for a hundred years always lingers around him. And his attitude. He's always so happy. It provides extra incentive to not get shot.

Then there's Tempestus. The only other person on the ship that could stand up to Captain Ramsay, but he hasn't been seen in a while. He's always preaching from his office, blaring sermons through the vox-systems. But you've never seen him leave, not recently. Maybe he's sick? With Detox as the alternative, maybe he thought bedrest was the better alternative. You would.

The only rock of sanity aboard is Hooker. The sergeant is one of the best instructors you've seen, and you've seen quite a few. More than once has she molded a scrappy hivewolder into a steely grunt, and broke a lesser noble and put him back together as a soldier. From what you've heard, she can't stand the others on this ship and is going her own way when her contract is done. That'll be a shame.

"Jeb? Jeb!" Mertyn has taken off his stupid earmuffs. "I-I think she's done...."

----

"Please.... Please! What do you want?" The old woman's face is drenched in sweat, grime, and blood. Her nails are strewn haphazardly on the floor. She's curled up into the corner of the cell, looking like a mongrel. Good... Now give them up to me! Carve out their hearts!

No! Use your gift, your birthday gift, my child. Use the syringe. Save her from the pain!

Soon enough. But now is not the time for games - you had information to pry. "Where is he? Where is the sorcerer?"

The woman spits a gob of blood and saliva. "I-I told you," she wheezes. "He's buggered off! We don't know where he is- ah! Ugh...." You hate having to get your delicate skin dirty.

"Fine. Okay. Tell me where he might be."

You expect the woman to spit her drivel and plead for mercy, but you notice a change. Something's different.... There's a darkness in her eye. She laughs - in a voice not her own. "I'm closer than you think." You take a step back. The possessed woman laughs again. "I have no quarrel with you. In fact, you intrigue me. Most of the people I change let the power get into their heads, and they end up shot or stabbed or eaten by daemons."

"Who are you? Tell me your name!"

The woman smiles, revealing bloody gums and missing teeth. "You had that chance. Now, I won't deprive the gods of their quarry! Make your choice, Lena Cythriel!"

The tortured prisoner gasps painfully as whatever took hold of her disappears. "Please! Let me go! For the love of the gods, let me go!"

You can hear her heart beating. You can hear the liquid in the syringe swirling. You decide to:

A. Carve her heart out for Slaanesh.
B. Inject her with Nurgle's gift.
C. Leaver her to die.
D. Slit her throat.
E. Call for the guards to help her.

And afterwards, you choose to:

A. Tell the captain what you know.
B. Talk to Detox.
C. Talk to Hooker.
D. Face Tempestus.
E. Visit Entek.
F. Wander around the ship.
G. Try to meet new people.
H. Do something else.

((I don't know the site rules pertaining to writing about explicit torture and graphic violence, so I just made it fade to black somewhat.))

 

[Nevill]

((I don't know the site rules pertaining to writing about explicit torture and graphic violence, so I just made it fade to black somewhat.))

No rules, as far as I am aware, but it is not that interesting to read. More power to you if you want to write it, though.

Leave the woman to her pain. I do not want to take sides, though we might have to, later. Besides, it is not very conspirational of us to broadcast our allegiance to anyone who might be in the know. If no one were to see our handiwork, I'd probably be bolder.

And meet Sgt. Hooker, dammit! Looks like she is the most disenchanted with Ramsay's command. Maybe we can get her on our side.

CC

I wonder what happened to Tempestus, though. He probably got changed, but that can make him twice more dangerous if he still holds his previous beliefs.

The woman smiles, revealing bloody gums and missing teeth. "You had that chance. Now, I won't deprive the gods of their quarry! Make your choice, Lena Cythriel!"

I am also wondering what chance he is talking about. When did we have it?

 

[Smashing Axe]

Mods won't jump you for explicit torture/violence.

A>C - No reason, other than I like Slaanesh more. Hopefully we get a skill based power.
C - She might have some useful info.

 

[Grimgravy]

CF might as well sight see.

 

[Elfberserker]

BE

Papa nurgle like giving gifts, we shouldn't be so stingy with his gifts.
I am giving tech priest a pity vote.

 

[Endemic]

C, C