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Post by AegisFate on Jun 3, 2014 22:45:49 GMT
The ball room was something out of a picture of antiquity, massive sweeping arches of pale white accentuated by gold, a large elegant staircase descending from the sides into a single point in the center of the room, armed guards at the bottom of the staircase, compact hellguns held across their chests on straps, their arms at attention, featureless helmets protecting their face, the black armor standing starkly against the opulence of the chamber. Various noblemen and women stood around, servants dressed sharply in white milling through the crowds, distributing amasec and iho sticks. A man stands at the entrance, taking down the names of those entering, announcing their entry loudly to the nobles before returning to the next entrant.
As the leaders of the battlegroup enter, they are given a brief applause, followed by feigned interest, clearly those assembled caring little for those who defend their status and standing. A servant walks up to the group, carrying nothing, speaking out a short phrase “Pardon me, but the Lady Corwin will be down in a moment to properly receive you.”
(Servants wandering throughout with munchies and alcohol. A group of boisterous high ranking Imperial Navy admirals are debating something on the left of the room, a pair of men appearing to get into a heated argument over a woman nearby. A few other groups of nobles intermixing and discussing some matters.)
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Post by silence on Jun 3, 2014 22:55:44 GMT
Nev tried to keep the contempt he held for these people off his face, nothing pissed him off more than these bureaucrats feigning interest to get noticed by the public for "support" the troops in the Imperial Armada. He walked to and fro shaking many a hand and listening to half drunken slurred appreciation for what he did.
One noble, a young man who lived off his fathers earnings, stumbled and fell dropping his glass of amasec and spilling it down the side of Nev`s uniform. Nev caught the man before he fell flat on his face and stood him up. The boy stuttered and stammered, but his mouth couldn't form any kind of coherent speech, and then walked away perplexed by something he saw.
Nev shook his head, wiped his handkerchief on the wet stain and continued on, nothing really taking his interest. He overheard the Navy Admirals debating about something to do with how their battleship was superior to the others, and he kept walking refusing to give the worthless sacks of flesh his time. Nev hated these events, always so formal and always so full of fethed up people.
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Post by Darko on Jun 3, 2014 22:59:49 GMT
With the speed of a practised eye, Tarsus immediately, and quite masturfully, identified the most important event unfolding amongst the noble masses packed together in the large, baroque chamber. With a wolfish grin, suppressed chuckle, one hand on the hilt of his ever-present duelling cutlass and the other skilfully retrieving not a glass but rather a whole bottle of fine amasec (which on inspection turned out to be a bottle of 868.m41, a good year by any standards, he manoeuvred through the assembled guests.
He spared a wayward glance back to his beleaguered colleagues who seemed to be somewhat out of their depth, or at least some of them did anyway. He abandoned them, stranded on the edge of the party, bedecked in their dress uniforms that all bore scores more glistening medals than Tarsus had ever been given, or cared to strive for in the first place. It didn't take him long to reach where two men appeared to be arguing over a lady-friend of theirs.
"Excuse me gentlemen," he grinned, stepping between them. "If you're done boring the lady, would you care to dance?" He asked her.
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coolyo294
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Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jun 5, 2014 2:32:39 GMT
Saul made his way through the hall making polite conversation with all of the most important individuals present. Some were fellow captains, while others were admirals of the Navy or generals of the Imperial Guard. There was even a garish Rogue Trader and her harem of concubinuses present. But most were nobility. It was important for Saul to make connections with this Imperial upper crust early. He never knew when he would need their support or a favor.
As he mingled with the crowd, Saul sipped a decanter of amasac. It was a fine vintage, most likely 868.m41. And if the hints of pepper and citrus were anything to go by, the liquor had most likely been crafted on the garden world of Iornis V. Although he could no longer become intoxicated as a result of his juvenant treatments, Saul still considered himself a connoisseur of the Imperium's finest beverage. He even maintained an extensive cellar aboard the Purity.
The captain placed his now empty glass on a passing server's tray and grabbed another. As he did so he spotted the one member of his crew that he had brought along, his second in command Silus Hex. They had gotten separated shortly after the party started and now the scholarly First Lieutenant was clearly trapped in a one-sided conversation with a visibly intoxicated nobleman. The noble's checks were flushed a deep shade of red and Silus had to edge back every time he spoke lest he get alcohol on his fine dress blues. Saul quickly maneuvered himself through the crowd to where his beleaguered officer stood. The noble was deep into a tale of some great great grandfather, who had at one point served in the Imperial Navy. Saul waited until he was finished before speaking.
"Good evening, sir." he said politely.
The noble turned to face the newcomer; he was first annoyed at the intrusion but his jowly face lit up when he saw who it was. "Ah, if it isn't the savior of the day, Captain Mandioz himself!" the noble slurred. Then he raised his own decanter. "A toast! A toast to you and all the good men in Battlegroup Hephaestus!"
Saul politely clinked his glass against the noble's. "We thank you for your well wishes. Now I'm terribly sorry, but I must borrow my first lieutenant for a while. Surely you don't mind?" he said.
"No, no! Of course not." Came the half unintelligible response. Slowly the noble shuffled off, quickly latching on to some other hapless victim to prattle at.
Silus snapped off a quick salute. "Thank you, sir. He would've talked to me all night had you not intervened."
First Lieutenant Silus Hex was not an intimidating man. His face was angular and scholarly, adorned with a pair of wire-rimmed pince nez spectacles and a constant tic that caused his upper lip to twitch. Most people simply looked at his appearance and wrote him off as some lickspittle yes-man, but the truth was quite the opposite. Hex was an extremely capable tactician and administrator, responsible for running many of the day to day activities aboard the ship. He was one of the few officers onboard the Purity that Saul regarded as an equal and was also the only one able to consistently best him in sparring matches.
"Not a problem, Silus. Now how are you enjoying yourself at this fine party thrown by our most gracious host?" Saul said with a smile, knowing how much Hex hated social functions such as these.
"It's an interesting experience, sir. I only hope our 'gracious host' will hurry up and meet us." Hex said.
"All in due time, Hex." Saul replied as he sipped his amasac. "All in due time."
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Post by AegisFate on Jun 6, 2014 2:05:45 GMT
He spared a wayward glance back to his beleaguered colleagues who seemed to be somewhat out of their depth, or at least some of them did anyway. He abandoned them, stranded on the edge of the party, bedecked in their dress uniforms that all bore scores more glistening medals than Tarsus had ever been given, or cared to strive for in the first place. It didn't take him long to reach where two men appeared to be arguing over a lady-friend of theirs. "Excuse me gentlemen," he grinned, stepping between them. "If you're done boring the lady, would you care to dance?" He asked her. Almost instantly, the two men turned, their faces turning into an image of rage, both putting hands to their blades, one of the two walking towards Tarsus. “You insult me, you petulant captain. Do you think such a lady would dance with a military man such as yourself? She is clearly of higher quality and tastes. Or do you really believe yourself to be worthy of our presence? This party is merely a formality,” he yelled at Tarsus, slowly pulling the sword from its sheath. The other noble stepped forward as well, a similar expression of rage. “Indeed, but I doubt she would dance with someone of your idiocy, either of you! I am the greatest option for her in this dance. You should thank me for what I am about to do!” The second noble drew his blade at the end of his sentence, polished steel glimmering in the light, golden accents along it. “Then I shall make you both glad at this as well!” the second proclaimed, drawing his blade as well, a rather brutish broadsword, clearly designed for a different man in a different time, the soft lines of a power field generator inset into the blade.
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Post by Darko on Jun 6, 2014 11:49:37 GMT
"As the member of a Rogue Trader dynasty and with thirty years of glorious service in His Navy, I do suspect my bravado is more than mere idle boasting such as your own," Tarsus chimed, unsheathing his sword and taking a step back, one hand behind his back, as he did so. He slowly moved it between them, each staring it each other down.
"You two certainly know how to make an old Navy hand chuckle," he confessed quite vehemently, "I have faced the terrors of the warp and fought shoulder to shoulder with stalwart soldiers to repulse foul heretics from my own glorious vessel... and you would presume to frighten me?" He gave a good old laugh at that idea.
Of course, taunting them further would only hasten the inevitable fight. It was rather wonderful and amusing in equal amounts! Emperor only knew this party needed livening up. It might even draw the attention of their mysterious host.
"Now, as to the matter at hand, we are to duel over this rather lovely ladies' hand perchance we may earn a dance, yet you both seem so cowardly, without honour. The only fight a man can ever truly prove himself in is a fair fight, man to man. You can keep that trinket of yours deactivated, boy," he sneered at the one with the powersword that he appeared to hold quite uncomfortably. "Come now, let us skewer each other in an orderly fashion. Who wishes to get their warp-ugly arse kicked first eh?"
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coolyo294
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Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jun 6, 2014 18:20:42 GMT
Saul and Silus quickly noticed a commotion developing on the far side of the ballroom. A crowd had gathered and whispers quickly spread throughout the partygoers that one of the navy captains had challenged two nobles to a fight.
"Warp damn it all." Mandioz muttered. This would not reflect well on him. "This could get ugly." he said as the two began pushing their way through the crowd to reach the fight. Saul ignored the protests of partygoers as he shoved his way to the front row of the onlookers. In the middle of the ring Tarsus stood, sword out as he bustled and boasted at the two noblemen.
"I just knew that mad bastard would be behind this." Saul muttered as he placed one hand on the pommel of his dueling saber.
SIlus copied the action. "Do you wish me to intervene, Sir?"
"No, let them be. Loath as I am to admit, it is dishonorable to encroach on another man's duel. And I'm sure the Lady of the House won't permit this scuffle to last much longer." Saul responded. "But be ready. Anything can happen when nobleborns get angry."
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Post by silence on Jun 6, 2014 19:11:44 GMT
Nev was standing only a few feet away when the exchange broke out to a challenge. Captain Tarsus had gone and pissed off two noble men, and both had drawn their swords. Nev nearly laughed at the predicament that Tarsus had gotten himself into, but instead decided that two men versus one was a little unfair, and regardless of his anger towards Tarsus, he wasn't going to let some scum get the glory of beating Tarsus. That was his right.
Nev stepped through the crowd, his hand resting on his prized sword, and walked to the side of Tarsus.
"You know, I`d hate for you both to be humiliated by being beat by this man single-handedly, so I`d let this man dance with the lady and advise you two to feth off." Nev said to try and dissolve the current situation.
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Post by Darko on Jun 6, 2014 19:22:08 GMT
"Come now, Captain Nev, these foolhardy tykes are welcome to leap at my blade - later they can tell their friends they had the distinction of losing to the one and only Captain Tarsus Hyperion!" He said, circling with his opponents and pausing to take a slight mock bow towards the two senior captains of the fleet, Bullard and Medioz, who observed from a few steps away. His signature wolfish grin was spread wide across his face and his eyes darted from one upstart noble boy to the other.
"I've been looking forward to this," he admitted, watching with amusement as the brows on his foes frowned so tightly that they appeared they may cause a warp rift to rupture into real-space. They looked positively enraged at every word that came from his mouth. He spun his sword in an unnecessary display of posturing, a trick he'd picked up at age ten and never forgotten. He'd always preferred swordplay to the gun-slinging antics of some, besides, he could never master spinning a pistol in hand before holstering it in true Rogue Trader style.
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Post by AegisFate on Jun 10, 2014 1:50:56 GMT
As the quartet prepared to spill blood, their blades hungry for each other, the noble wielding the broadsword chuckled, the telltale flickering of a power sword being activated and the smell of ozone in the air. The inevitable circling before the first strike from any of the four was stopped at a halt, a single man stepping into the center of the ring, his face withered and an apparatus connected to his skull by a variety of neural connections sitting around his neck. His clothing appears to be that of a butler, bowing in the manner of such before standing back up.
“The lady requests that there be no blood spilt in her hall. Your grievances can be taken care of at a later date outside of this joyous occasion.” His voice was soft, sounding out with the hints of age. He turned to the captains of the battlegroup, speaking out an answer to a question not yet asked, as if knowing someone was to say it. “If you are wondering when the lady will come, it is soon, she is just finishing up some work.”
Somewhere in the distance, the announcer declared the Lord Mikael Kaldwell in attendance, an influential individual near the top of the hierarchy of the Viros Shipyards, a shadowy figure not known for showing his face, even in formal events, if he even came.
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