In the Apostate campaign that slowly moves forward we have had one game so far. I explained the background setting there as well as a short story about what happened. But I do not play alone of course, so I thought it was about time I mentioned my co-players.
First off this time is Johan, avid painter and player of 40k. He has a couple of beautiful armies (fully painted of course), a great looking sister of battle army and an equally cool mechanicum army. The Apostate has opened up a new door however into the world of inq28/inquisimunda where there are no constraints and story and cool minis comes first. Some of you may know Johan from his painting sessions on twitch.
With time we will get back to introduce our respective warbands in detail. For now I will just share what happened in our last game from Johans inquisitor point of view, where they were looking for the elusive rogue agent named Oddkin.
The day had ended far worse than it had begun, that’s for sure, Hoswald thought.
Glancing out from the charred dust crawlers compartment he expected to find pursuers at this point but the only thing chasing the warband and their improvised getaway vehicle was dust clouds and a sickly brown sunset. Climbing back down to the compartment (which thankfully was not covered in soot like the outside was) Hoswald found Braska, his old aide tending to their unconscious quarry. She was old, very old in fact, but still served her purpose. Like most of his henchmen, she originated from a primitive, feral world which was something Hoswald preferred. Simple people with simple minds.
Their company made him feel even smarter and more important. Having Braska around also made him feel younger, faster and taller. Something he would of course never admit. She had been useful before, but in a completely different way. Her frail, hideous and repulsive appearance had on several occasions made other agents of the Inquisition second-guess her true talents. Hoswald had enjoyed watching rumors as they formed. A warp-witch? An untouchable? Let them guess, it’s better that way. In truth she provided nothing but company. A company Hoswald unexpectedly had grown to enjoy over the years.
“This ugly fella sure took it to the nogger but he ain’t sailin’ away yet sir. Better make sure he doesn’t choke on us is all.” The irony obviously lost on the old swamp hag as she made her best effort to not let the rogue agent swallow his own tongue. He had an ugly bruise on his left temple left by the pommel of one of Minervinas blades. Thankfully his bodyguard could restrain herself and hold her temper even in a volatile situation as the one that just transpired.
Something that couldn’t be said about Brold, the primitive brawler of a sage that started it all. Hoswald had learned that when the throwing clubs starts flying it’s time to get moving. Brolds was short-tempered, violent and primal for a man of knowledge. His whole body covered with scars, each one a nugget of knowledge he had carved himself as is custom for the tribes of his home world. Bearer of memory, he was a walking runestone of sorts. Unfortunately, it did nothing good when it came to first impressions. Brold was upset still, not because he’d lost one of his throwing clubs, but because someone had burned his left arm badly, erasing years of knowledge once carved into his flesh. …Or rather, someone, had burned his arm.
Someone Hoswald had yet to figure out who it was. A female clad in lavish, intricate armor accompanied by some thugs. It had to be some imperial agent for sure. Someone equipped with advanced technology and not afraid to use it against one of the Inquisitions most competent and respected agents. She could be a bored thrill-seeking, young noblewoman at best or a rogue Inquisitor at worst. Hoswald and a feeling time would tell soon.
“My lord, I think we’re getting company soon. Should I call for backup?” Hoswald could barely make out the voice of Basilius, the former town crier now in his service. Basilius had by pure accident become the driver of their getaway vehicle during the previous brawl and was now trying his very best to steer the loud and clumsy dust crawler. Before answering, Hoswald glanced out yet again from the compartment and could indeed see one dust cloud at the horizon different from the rest. Pursuers no doubt. “Braska, let go of the poor mans tongue and grab the mounted heavy stubber on the roof. It seems our day could get even worse still…”