User blog:TheShade6/Astrid Stone: Inquisitor

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''Far above LT-299, a 290-B class mass civilian ship remains anchored in quarantine. The engines pulse with a dull hum. Short bursts of flashes occasionally show through the portholes like tiny lightning storms. A 5-CA class military boarding ship is docked on its side. A veichle approaches the Barbed Haft, personal starship of Astrid Stone. Inquisitor.''

A knock sounds through the door of Astrid's worship room. "Inquisitor, we are approaching the LT system. Would you like us to establish communications with the boarding ship?"

Astrid opens the door. "Prepare the armaments, check the armors, then establish comms, lieutenant."

"Yes Inquisitor."

Astrid quickly makes way to her quarter room, stripping off her standard uniform and nearly folding by it. The Inquisitor removes her paladin class shock absorbing gambleson and puts on her trousers, one step at a time. The lieutenant walks in. "Inquisitor, everything's checked out. Your armor has a loose plate on the left forearm."

"Hm." She slides the gambleson onto her pale torso, "We don't have time to make repairs, have Draggs wrap some adhesive ribbon around it for now and contact that ship" she speaks, buttoning down her under-armor.

''This is The Claw, police ship. Identify yourself''

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"This is Lieutenant Kane aboard the Barbed Haft"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">''The Barbed... oh, I was un-unaware the situation warranted a- the presence of an inquisitor. We'll prepare the docking bridge.''

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Astrid steps aboard The Claw in her white suit of armor. Made of dozens of plates of Undaram steel alloyed with powdered balgor carapace, extremely form fitted to her every curve. If it were available in the market it would be worth a small moon. Of course the church exterminated all but a dozen balgor to keep their monopoly.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Captain! The Inquisitor is here" cries a soldier as he sees Astrid and her men come down the hall.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Heavy footsteps approach as a man in a crisp white uniform walks around the corner, chevrons of a captain on his shoulder. He lets out a loud whistle as he scans the curves of her armor "Well" he chuckles "I always thought Inquisitors would be a touch more modest, like a armored nun or som-"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">His words are cut short by Astrid's hand around his throat. He is slammed into the wall and raised a foot off the ground by her grip.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Your observation was made out of lust... did the sisters not teach you lust was a deadly sin? To allow such a sin to plague your mind unsuppressed is heresy" A resounding and muffled pop followed by light gurgling signifies the crushing of his windpipe "I advise you take these moments to repent. I hope you haven't committed many sins like this in the past, you have 39 seconds to atone for all of them before you are judged." She drops him and turns to the soldier who spotted her "What is your name private?"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"J-Jeremy ma'am... n-now please-"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Congratulations Jeremy you are now a captain. There is no need to fear me if you allow the lords to walk by your side. Now brief me on the situation."

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">He breaths heavily, blank faced and wide eyed. "Y-yes, umm we were called up here after we got a distress signal from this ship. They thought it was pirates but ground control ordered them to remain in orbit while we checked it out. I don't know what it is exactly but I've heard screams and gunshots from time to time- o-our team was split into pairs to investigate but comms have been dropping so I don't know where everyone is now"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"That will be all captain." She opens a door into the unsecured section of the ship.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Ma'am don't you want a weapon? I can give you my rifle"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"No weapon is substitute for zeal, remember that" she turns "If this is what the church thinks it is, bullets won't do much good anyway. Get yourself a bayonet, you'll live longer"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Asrid and her power armored men walk forth down the abandoned halls. Typical mass transit ships are bustling colonies unto their own, but not a single sign of life makes itself known. "Braggs take left, Roger take right, Kane keep straight." Astrid herself steps slowly up the stairs just left of the corridor intersection. At the top of the flight she is greeted with a pool of blood, a heavy trail of it leading off to the right and a fresher, thinner trail leading forward. She follows the fresh tail, unbuttoning the sheath on her combat knife. From around the corner the trail leads to a boot sticking out. As she turns the corner all she finds is the rest of the boot and second puddle. "SHRIEEEK!" A bloodcurdling scream advances from behind. She turns around and draws her knife in one swift motion, a downward horizontal slice and the creature finds its jaw carved out from nose to windpipe. A wet smack hits her armor as the creature futilely bites her with now missing teeth. She brings the knife back along with its right arm and kicks it away. As it charges back she opens a maintenance closet and throws it into the small room. Slamming the door and driving her knife into the frame as a makeshift deadbolt.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Kane, get the others and get up here, we've got familiars.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Yes, Inquisitor

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">They walk up the steps, weapons drawn. They find their commander waiting for them at the top of the steps. Kane nods. Astrid tilts her head to the blood puddle. "One of the enforcement. Almost got downstairs before one of them dragged it off. I want to see what he was trying to get away from when he nearly got to the stairs." Her men silently follow her as she walks upon the older blood trail.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">''Familiars are zombie like creatures born from tietary infections of a leech fiend. Primary infections are from the leech latching onto a host, turning them into giant powerful masses of mishapen flesh known uncreativly as leech monsters. Those infected by the fluids of a leech monster will find themselves painfully twisted into large beasts known as shog-spawn. Surivors of shog-spawnand familiars become familiars.''

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Inquisitor, got any idea what made him bleed out like this without turning?"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Somebody wanted this to happen, the church thought it had to do wih the new cult down on the surface; the presence of demons confirms it... lone wolves typically become willing hosts to the leech or aren't even in the area of effect so they can fight another day. If that soldier bled without turning that means there are still heretics who haven't turned yet." She pauses in epithany. "Kane, with me. Cockpit." She breaks into a run that quickly turns to a sprint. Doors and branching hallways blur by as she recounts her folly over and over before a sinewy tentacle slams her and Kane into the wall.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">A shog-spawn lets out a gutteral howl as it rushes them. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM. Kane lets his mass shooter sing, each note a hymn to the gods. To accompany the sweet falsetto of the Inquisitor swiping Kane's balde through the red growth. A second growth slams the Inquisitor into the ceiling, shards of bone in the red mass leave scratches in her plating as it constricts around her waist. A red stain splats onto the wall and the Inquisitor drops to the floor with a thud. Braggs stands at the end of the hall, large caliber mass shooter smoking in hand. "Braggs focus fire on the joints." She stands ready, "I'm headed for the cockpit still." They all seamlessly fire and position to draw it away from the path to the cockpit, no words spoken.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">In a rare moment of distraction, Astrid allows herself to be surprised by a trio of familiars. Military and civillian, they attack with the same damned fury. Their crushing bites hurt, and hitting the floor winds her, but the only real danger is the one tearing at her forearm plate. She pulls her other arm forward but it fights the weight of a whole familiar. The threads of the adhesive ribbon begin to snap and strain, then entirely tear off. With both her arms stuck in their grips she raises her legs and wraps her shins around its neck to tear it off her. A clink and snap accompany her loose plating still in the familiars mouth. The millitary familiar savagely jumps at the new opening and breaks the skin with its already bloody teeth. The Inquisitor throws the fiend off her and breaks her other arm free; in the same motion grabbing the millitary familiar's knife as it's pushed back and flaying her arm around the bite before she contaminates the fresh blade with the tainted blood of its juggular and spinal fuids. A quick spin and the one behind her is pinned to the wall through its shoulder. She runs off not having time to spare nor willing to risk splattering contaminated blood onto her very open wound.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The drops of blood lead all the way to the cockpit door where Astrid swipes her universal keycard granted by the church. She kicks the door open as soon as it's unlocked and barges in, barreling into a cultist that had come to see who had opened the door. The metallic hum of the freshly impacted railing is paired with the resounding crack of the man's spine. Three of them stand at the controls, already set to land in the most populated sector of the planet. They aim their pistols. "Heretics." She spitefully accuses. The room lights in muzzle flash and all that can be heard is the combustion of green powder. The Inquisitor stands in place, blood leaking into a small pool. She moves forwards with ferocious speed and the cultists respond with stares, eyes as wide as can be and faces as pale as the sunless ones. She grabs one by the gun arm and snaps her arm to the side, elbow joint sticking out of the cultist's arm. Astrid pulls a single loose ligament to a finger, and the furthest cultist has his head matter paint the window. The suffering of the broken armed heathen is ended as her face is slammed into a stick on the control console, obliterating her eye and the brain matter behind it. The final cultist cowers as the inquisitor approaches. "Heretics... must die." She picks him up by the neck and begins to squeeze the air right out of him. In a moment offoolish desperation he digs his nails into her exposed forearm flesh, warranting him the relief of quickly snapped neck.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Astrid quickly looks at the console, searching for a way to stop the transit-ship-turned-demonic-bio-warhead.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">''Engines warmed. Initiating launch''

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">She finds what she was searching for, the thrust lever, pulled out by one of the demon fanatics. She then slams on the manual piloting hand and jams it into a slight angle before running back out of the cockpit to where her men were.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Inquisitor, are you injured?" Rogers begins pulling out his medkit at the sight of his now crimson commander.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Just my arm, lost some skin and took a few mass projectites to it. We'll patch it on the Haft, this ship won't be habitable much longer." She continues onwards to the stairs, all three of her men following behind swiftly as they backtrack to the Barbed Haft.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Woah, what happened in there" The new captain asks, brows clenched together above his eyes.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Demons, now get in our ship. This place is headed for the sun"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"The sun? You weren't able to stop them from setting an incineration course? What about all the people still on this ship?"

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"I set the course, the old destination was far worse." She grabs his arms and drags him into the Haft "As for anyone who still lives, they will be noble sacrifices for the gods and greater good. All aboard that ship innocent of heresy will be compensated with a pleasant afterlife."

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Lieutenant Kane successfuly disengages the docking bridge just as the massive ship careens into the star.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Dented projectites clink into Roger's metal tray as he removes them from Astrid's arm. "This arm is going to be out of commision for a while, they ricocheted all around the functioning sections of your armor after they got into the missing section. Now this next part will be quite painful, I will be attaching microchain links to reconnect your ligaments."

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Good gods man, get her some pain meds, or some alc-" the captain cuts himself short as the color drains from his face

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"Do you suggest a vice such as alchohol to a servant of the lords?" The inquisitor stands in disgusted anger

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">"N-no I simply meant it as a pain reliver, for your own good so you dont have to feel everything he's doing" the captain stammers

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Astrid sits, "I am a servant of the lords, I walk beside them as they walk beside me. If they have willed me to become injured then that pain is a burden I will accept and bear. I will continue to carry all burdens they place upon me, until the day comes. Until the day I have slain, the last heretic"