I had a thought for a grand adventure hunting down one of the lost Gloriana-Class Battleships, and I'm curious on the take of other GMs. This is an adventure chain that would take players well outside the Screaming Vortex, but has sufficient pieces to make for a long campaign, and rewards enough to make them prominent in a Black Crusade of their own.
 
In particular, my thought was to find the Macragge's Honour, the Ultramarines Gloriana that was lost in the warp after ship to ship action with the Word Bearer's and Kor Phaeron which disabled it's Geller field and left it stranded. Since Kor Phaeron is still apparently floating around in the 42nd millennium, it seems likely that there would be some sort of record of the encounter. I see a campaign playing out something like this:
 
1. Find a sect of Word Bearers with the account of Kor Phaeron's 'scuttling' of the Macragges Honour (even though Kor Phaeron was actually defeated, perhaps some intrigue to be had from that). This would provide PCs the last known location and heading of the missing Gloriana, and is itself a series of compacts as the PCs either earn the trust of the Word Bearers or sufficient wealth to trade for the information.
 
2. Acquire a contingent of Navigators, preferably of a well known and established house. My thought here is to create a grand ritual using the Navigators as sacrifice. Use the Navigators, channeled through a particularly powerful psyker to create a map of the warp in the vein of a holographic image above the ritual. Then use them to turn back the clock on the map to when the Gloriana was lost, chart the position and heading of the lost ship, then turn the clock forward again charting the ships course through the intervening warp tides. This bit assumes some level of logic to warp tides, which is a bit absurd, but its a first shot at locating the vessel.
 
3. Once the region of the warp has been narrowed, the PCs will need a potent relic of the Ultramarines to be used as a psyfocus, capturing and tracing the aura of the Ultramarines in attempt to scry for the Gloriana in the narrowed space. I feel like this could be done by a coven of psykers, or better yet a group of Dark Eldar Medusae inducing a trip to Commorragh.
 
4. The PCs, once they have the location and the ability to narrow in on the vessel will need a small fleet of recovery vessels to make the trip into, most likely, Imperial space.
 
Then the fun begins, because the Gloriana's were home to the Primarchs. No telling what riches they left behind, let alone the fact that it would have been home to at least a couple of chapters of Space Marines and all of their support equipment. Better in the case of the Macragge's Honour because it was the largest Gloriana, and because it spent the last 10,000 years in the warp. Maybe dangerous warp entities have roosted there waiting for the ship to be rediscovered. Maybe the Word Bearers boarding parties and the Ultramarines are still alive and locked in an epic struggle for the ship. Maybe some contingent of the Ultramarines survived and went into stasis, only to reawaken to greet intruders. Maybe all of the above. I feel like boarding the Macragge's Honour is just the halfway point in the campaign as the PCs struggle to salvage her. Lets not forget, her Geller fields were disabled, so the PCs have to struggle with either getting them running again while still in the warp, or find some way to shunt her into real space so they can start clearing her out. All the while, vulnerable to predators of all kinds.
 
And, again, think of the loot. All the support vehicles for a Primarch and a good chunk of his legion, all the geneseed stored for replenishing troops, all that power armour, and the Gloriana itself, one of 20 such vessels that could destroy traditional battlecruisers with one broadside. Then what do you do with it all? Turn it over to Abaddon to add another to his fleet? Go back to the Screaming Vortex and dominate the war moons of Talax so you can recruit the entire body into your budding army? Start whole new chapters of Chaos Space Marines?
 
I'm curious on what others think of this idea. Its a huge undertaking, probably too big for all but the most dedicated of groups. But oh the possibilities. There's so much for the PCs to do, so much they could dictate themselves. And it would culminate in an epic reward.
 
I'm also curious on what others think the stats for a Gloriana should be. The whole idea of them has been altered over the years. Ships that started out as battlebarges became Gloriana's, so existing stats from BFG are somewhat poor for their latest description. Not to mention you need some way to put pen to paper on what is actually IN the Gloriana that can be salvaged/rebuilt. Tallies of support vehicles and types, weapons lockers, munitions, etc.
 
Any ideas for embellishing/fleshing out the story are welcome too. Really just looking for brainstorming.
 
 

-When your Slaaneshi psyker blows open a safe with her powers, 'accidentally' strikes two other members of the warband, and licks the now cherry hot key found within. 
 
-When your Slaaneshi psyker is worried about losing her psi-focus, so as a backup collects the fingers of enemies she's slain just in case she needs to forge another one. And by collect I mean "bites off".
 
-When your Word Bearer mutates, is turned inside out, and strides into battle duel wielding flamers (recoil gloves) and using Baleful Dirge to scare the bajeezus out of his enemies.
 
-When your Word Bearer decides alone to attack a PR 6 Tzeentch sorcerer because of a crack about Lorgar's "scrawlings".
 
-When your Night Lord forgets he ever in fact had a bolt pistol because things "turn squishy" under his lightning claw.
 
-When your Night Lord modifies his intimidate test by first selecting a random non-warband member, grabbing him by the skull, and crushing it in his fist without saying a word.

I had a thought for a grand adventure hunting down one of the lost Gloriana-Class Battleships, and I'm curious on the take of other GMs. This is an adventure chain that would take players well outside the Screaming Vortex, but has sufficient pieces to make for a long campaign, and rewards enough to make them prominent in a Black Crusade of their own.
 
In particular, my thought was to find the Macragge's Honour, the Ultramarines Gloriana that was lost in the warp after ship to ship action with the Word Bearer's and Kor Phaeron which disabled it's Geller field and left it stranded. Since Kor Phaeron is still apparently floating around in the 42nd millennium, it seems likely that there would be some sort of record of the encounter. I see a campaign playing out something like this:
 
1. Find a sect of Word Bearers with the account of Kor Phaeron's 'scuttling' of the Macragges Honour (even though Kor Phaeron was actually defeated, perhaps some intrigue to be had from that). This would provide PCs the last known location and heading of the missing Gloriana, and is itself a series of compacts as the PCs either earn the trust of the Word Bearers or sufficient wealth to trade for the information.
 
2. Acquire a contingent of Navigators, preferably of a well known and established house. My thought here is to create a grand ritual using the Navigators as sacrifice. Use the Navigators, channeled through a particularly powerful psyker to create a map of the warp in the vein of a holographic image above the ritual. Then use them to turn back the clock on the map to when the Gloriana was lost, chart the position and heading of the lost ship, then turn the clock forward again charting the ships course through the intervening warp tides. This bit assumes some level of logic to warp tides, which is a bit absurd, but its a first shot at locating the vessel.
 
3. Once the region of the warp has been narrowed, the PCs will need a potent relic of the Ultramarines to be used as a psyfocus, capturing and tracing the aura of the Ultramarines in attempt to scry for the Gloriana in the narrowed space. I feel like this could be done by a coven of psykers, or better yet a group of Dark Eldar Medusae inducing a trip to Commorragh.
 
4. The PCs, once they have the location and the ability to narrow in on the vessel will need a small fleet of recovery vessels to make the trip into, most likely, Imperial space.
 
Then the fun begins, because the Gloriana's were home to the Primarchs. No telling what riches they left behind, let alone the fact that it would have been home to at least a couple of chapters of Space Marines and all of their support equipment. Better in the case of the Macragge's Honour because it was the largest Gloriana, and because it spent the last 10,000 years in the warp. Maybe dangerous warp entities have roosted there waiting for the ship to be rediscovered. Maybe the Word Bearers boarding parties and the Ultramarines are still alive and locked in an epic struggle for the ship. Maybe some contingent of the Ultramarines survived and went into stasis, only to reawaken to greet intruders. Maybe all of the above. I feel like boarding the Macragge's Honour is just the halfway point in the campaign as the PCs struggle to salvage her. Lets not forget, her Geller fields were disabled, so the PCs have to struggle with either getting them running again while still in the warp, or find some way to shunt her into real space so they can start clearing her out. All the while, vulnerable to predators of all kinds.
 
And, again, think of the loot. All the support vehicles for a Primarch and a good chunk of his legion, all the geneseed stored for replenishing troops, all that power armour, and the Gloriana itself, one of 20 such vessels that could destroy traditional battlecruisers with one broadside. Then what do you do with it all? Turn it over to Abaddon to add another to his fleet? Go back to the Screaming Vortex and dominate the war moons of Talax so you can recruit the entire body into your budding army? Start whole new chapters of Chaos Space Marines?
 
I'm curious on what others think of this idea. Its a huge undertaking, probably too big for all but the most dedicated of groups. But oh the possibilities. There's so much for the PCs to do, so much they could dictate themselves. And it would culminate in an epic reward.
 
I'm also curious on what others think the stats for a Gloriana should be. The whole idea of them has been altered over the years. Ships that started out as battlebarges became Gloriana's, so existing stats from BFG are somewhat poor for their latest description. Not to mention you need some way to put pen to paper on what is actually IN the Gloriana that can be salvaged/rebuilt. Tallies of support vehicles and types, weapons lockers, munitions, etc.
 
Any ideas for embellishing/fleshing out the story are welcome too. Really just looking for brainstorming.
 
 

If Wounds are not representative of injuries (and thus "damage" to a character) but rather morale, then they should be restored by stuff like Into the Jaws of Hell or Unshakeable Will rather than a Medkit. Not to mention that this concept suggests that stuff like Necron Warriors, rogue Servitors or Tyranid drones can actually get the heebie-jeebies. The rulebook flat-out states that damage is "physical trauma" on page 247.
Now, I'm not saying that you should not justify it your way - it's YOUR game and you have a right to pursue your own ideas - but if you do, I feel you ought to re-write large portions of the talent and equipment list in order to avoid confusion and to make sure that the final outcome is consistent.
 
In terms of armour reduction, there have been a couple of threads on these forums discussing the matter, but the problem is that most ideas would slow down the game with additional dice rolls. I suppose if I really wanted to introduce something like this, I would make it a possible byproduct for any attack that breaches the armour (Dmg + Pen combined). How about triggering this risk if the result of a BS/WS test is a number between 1 and 20? If both these conditions are met, a single point of AP is deducted from the armour. This can happen a number of times equal to half the AP (rounded down), so that for example a Flak Vest cannot be reduced below 2 AP. In addition, powered armour hitting this minimum value will lose its Strength-augmenting bonus. Armour can be repaired using the Crafting rules found on page 94.
 
And if you are interested in a slightly more realistic take on injury effects, you could implement the following rules inspired by Games Workshop's own d100 game Inquisitor:
Any damage that punches through armour is guaranteed to trigger a Critical Injury.
Divide the amount of penetrating raw damage by the target's TB, rounding down to a minimum of 1. The resulting number is how many "steps" on the Crit table you jump.
If the character has already been injured on this body location, you start from the last row that was triggered.
Example: Captain Elias suffers a plasma shot (5+8, Pen 10) to the chest. The resulting damage is easily enough to punch through his power armour and threaten him with 13 damage. Fortunately, being a Space Marine, he has TB 8. 13 divided by 8 equals 1.725, rounded down to 1, so he receives 1 level of Critical Injury to the chest. If Elias had been a mere human, the injury would have been quite a bit more severe, but the battle is far from over!
 
This should make prolonged combat feel much riskier as characters are practically guaranteed to rack up actual, physical injuries that require treatment or even bionics rather than mere "hitpoints" with no actual consequences for the character. At the same time, the use of Toughness Bonus as a "buffer" in-between the various Crit levels also acts as a safeguard against "one-shot kills" by extreme damage from large dice spans, such as Zealous Hatred or Horde bonuses.
As an added bonus, even Space Marines can be threatened by smaller weapons as long as they have the capacity to penetrate their armour - they are unlikely to go down quickly, but sustained damage will put them down eventually, just as it should be.

"Tech-Priest Harlocke, these men had a close run in with Overseer Hresh in the refinery after they got lost on their business. They could use a guide familiar with the workings of the forge and the mine complex beyond, one friendly to all and not just those of the forge. I immediately thought of you. The workers would see it as a great favor if you could accompany them, and safeguard the Legio's business."
 
The man keeps to one side, respectful of the tech-priest, and admiring of his work.
 
"If I may leave them in your capable hands? I must return to work or the Overseer will begin to question their presence once more."
 
He pauses, awaiting confirmation from the priest.
 
 
//   I'm wary of using the spoiler tags as OOC. You won't know if you're looking at a comment from me, or opening up a dice roll that maybe you wanted to be left in the dark about. I was mainly using the Spoiler for those readers who might like to know what effect your tests, and NPC tests are having on the story. Quote would be a suitable alternative if all agree.In either case, I would rather see your rolls in the open as you have done all along.

"Tech-Priest Harlocke, these men had a close run in with Overseer Hresh in the refinery after they got lost on their business. They could use a guide familiar with the workings of the forge and the mine complex beyond, one friendly to all and not just those of the forge. I immediately thought of you. The workers would see it as a great favor if you could accompany them, and safeguard the Legio's business."
 
The man keeps to one side, respectful of the tech-priest, and admiring of his work.
 
"If I may leave them in your capable hands? I must return to work or the Overseer will begin to question their presence once more."
 
He pauses, awaiting confirmation from the priest.
 
 
//   I'm wary of using the spoiler tags as OOC. You won't know if you're looking at a comment from me, or opening up a dice roll that maybe you wanted to be left in the dark about. I was mainly using the Spoiler for those readers who might like to know what effect your tests, and NPC tests are having on the story. Quote would be a suitable alternative if all agree.In either case, I would rather see your rolls in the open as you have done all along.

My own intent was to both allow an Adeptus Ministorum character to further utilize his background in a meaningful way, and to find some logic and consistency to the 40K universe. 
 
The rituals themselves may not in all cases be expected to have a strong mechanic-based effect. Would I expect a preacher to be able to blindly create a relic weapon from rote repetition of a beginner level text? No. I wouldn't even begin to suspect Ecclesiarchy Cardinals would be capable of that or the Ecclesiarchy would be cranking out relics gangbuster. But it is reasonable to assume that the church of the Confederation of Light has a certain amount of trappings that they themselves believe serve a meaningful purpose. Their rites and rituals would have some effect, even if it would only be to reinforce the faith of the church's adherents. More than that would certainly be up to a player and a GM to decide on the level of expertise required to achieve a more tangible result, but I could certainly see the case being made for things such as bonuses to Willpower tests made against psychic powers, sealing locations against the intrusion of the warp, blessings of weapons in various degrees and more. The Inquisition would be expected to maintain a certain stranglehold on the potentially dangerous rites and rituals, sealed within long forgotten data vaults, yes. Perhaps that in itself is a story hook. And perhaps that is the decision that a player and a GM come to as well, yes it is possible but not at your level of understanding.
 
I must agree with Lynata's take on the science of emotion and faith in the 40K universe, though I doubt I will be as eloquent. Oddly, I think the Orks provide the strongest potential example. Each with a latent psychic ability, each contributing to the communities overall power, and directly influencing the physics of the universe around them due to their belief. An Ork believes a weapon works,  his tribe believes it works, and so it works. Larger bodies of Orks are capable of raising larger and larger weaponry. Remove the Ork from the equation and the weapon stops working. Perhaps the average imperial citizen lacks the psychic strength of an Ork, but what is to prevent them from utilizing the same mechanism? Whats more, perhaps human emotion, which is obviously such a key component in many of the 'magics' of 40K, is what gives humanity the edge.
 
This argument is further reinforced by the circumstance requirements of many chaos rituals. First, create a environment of high emotion to thin the barrier between realspace and the warp, then enact a ritual which sends the clarion call to an entity strong enough to tunnel through. The Word Bearers used this during the invasion of Tanakreg, using the emotional turmoil associated with the deaths of billions to physically transport a world into the warp. There are numerous examples of this strong emotion being used by Chaos, but what if the emotion was hatred of Chaos? What if revulsion was at the center of the rite/ritual, would you not expect even an untrained but particularly hate filled individual to have some effect?
 
I'm very glad this got at least some discussion, and now I have some additional sources to check. I for one, if I ever to get to play my Priest, will be making the case for Imperial rites and rituals.

My own intent was to both allow an Adeptus Ministorum character to further utilize his background in a meaningful way, and to find some logic and consistency to the 40K universe. 
 
The rituals themselves may not in all cases be expected to have a strong mechanic-based effect. Would I expect a preacher to be able to blindly create a relic weapon from rote repetition of a beginner level text? No. I wouldn't even begin to suspect Ecclesiarchy Cardinals would be capable of that or the Ecclesiarchy would be cranking out relics gangbuster. But it is reasonable to assume that the church of the Confederation of Light has a certain amount of trappings that they themselves believe serve a meaningful purpose. Their rites and rituals would have some effect, even if it would only be to reinforce the faith of the church's adherents. More than that would certainly be up to a player and a GM to decide on the level of expertise required to achieve a more tangible result, but I could certainly see the case being made for things such as bonuses to Willpower tests made against psychic powers, sealing locations against the intrusion of the warp, blessings of weapons in various degrees and more. The Inquisition would be expected to maintain a certain stranglehold on the potentially dangerous rites and rituals, sealed within long forgotten data vaults, yes. Perhaps that in itself is a story hook. And perhaps that is the decision that a player and a GM come to as well, yes it is possible but not at your level of understanding.
 
I must agree with Lynata's take on the science of emotion and faith in the 40K universe, though I doubt I will be as eloquent. Oddly, I think the Orks provide the strongest potential example. Each with a latent psychic ability, each contributing to the communities overall power, and directly influencing the physics of the universe around them due to their belief. An Ork believes a weapon works,  his tribe believes it works, and so it works. Larger bodies of Orks are capable of raising larger and larger weaponry. Remove the Ork from the equation and the weapon stops working. Perhaps the average imperial citizen lacks the psychic strength of an Ork, but what is to prevent them from utilizing the same mechanism? Whats more, perhaps human emotion, which is obviously such a key component in many of the 'magics' of 40K, is what gives humanity the edge.
 
This argument is further reinforced by the circumstance requirements of many chaos rituals. First, create a environment of high emotion to thin the barrier between realspace and the warp, then enact a ritual which sends the clarion call to an entity strong enough to tunnel through. The Word Bearers used this during the invasion of Tanakreg, using the emotional turmoil associated with the deaths of billions to physically transport a world into the warp. There are numerous examples of this strong emotion being used by Chaos, but what if the emotion was hatred of Chaos? What if revulsion was at the center of the rite/ritual, would you not expect even an untrained but particularly hate filled individual to have some effect?
 
I'm very glad this got at least some discussion, and now I have some additional sources to check. I for one, if I ever to get to play my Priest, will be making the case for Imperial rites and rituals.

That was a different design team, though. Subsequent books such as BoM have pushed faith-related stuff including protective "charms" a lot more into the Space Magic niche. Hexagrammic Wards can be interpreted in many different ways, too, even though personally I'm following the same idea you just mentioned.   I think it depends mainly on how we interpret the cosmology in the setting to work. Is divine magic (including Machine Spirits) "real"? Official sources will provide different answers depending on who wrote them; it is entirely up to you and your group to decide which interpretation to go with.   To contrast my previous post in regards to the RAW, this is my personal interpretation:   Warp phenomena including daemons are a creation of psychic stimulation (both intentional and unintentional) by the myriad of beings living in the material plane, from the Eldar whose excesses caused the birth of Slaanesh to the Human psyker who conjures a ball of witchfire, all the way to the thousand victims tortured to death as part of a cult ritual to summon a daemon. However, much like the emotional input that leads to the creation of these supernatural events, they can be partially countered by effectively "disbelieving" them.   A person's faith in the Emperor may be so strong that the revulsion triggered by a daemonic apparition weakens or repulses it, thanks to the faint link that every single human (except Blanks) has to the Warp. Like a latent "negative feedback"-mechanism, such a person would not only deny the creature its "food" (negative emotions such as terror, fear, etc) but subconsciously attack the very link that allows them to manifest on the material plane in the first place. A similar effect would be levelled against psychic powers in general, see the representation of Shield of Faith in GW's tabletop.   So what makes a "sanctified" weapon better may indeed be less the item, but rather the wielder's belief in its superiority and the cause it was forged and blessed for. In addition to this, however, it may also be possible that certain techniques exist to leave a "psychic imprint" on an item -- a trace of the human soul and its strength, almost like a lesser degree of the daemon weapon. As such, perhaps a sanctified weapon acts like a multiplicator for the wielder's "natural" faith, augmenting it both on a spiritual as well as a psychic level. An average person may have it work just slightly better against daemonic creatures due to the way it was created, whilst a particularly faithful individual would have their faith boosted even further as the effects stack and the mere presence of a true relic provides them with renewed zeal.   This approach explains the origin and effects of blessings as sanctifications, as well as other supernatural phenomana such as the appearance and possession of Saint Celestine as a benign Warp Spirit summoned forth by the collective spiritual energy of the faithful masses. In addition, it makes psykers out to be just like the rest of mankind, except with their psyker genes being strong enough to affect the Warp on a conscious level rather than subconscious (allowing a stronger and more focused use of their power, but also making them easier to corrupt, both due to attracting more daemonic attention as well as the lure of power and the social stigmatisation that comes with their abilities).   Also, and I consider this important for my preferred vision of the 41st millennium, it feels more scientific and thus realistic to me than unexplained and inconsistent "real miracles". This is merely personal preference, though, and I know there are a lot of fans who simply prefer a more epic and fantastical version of the setting, with immortal gods and magic and all that entails. As Gav Thorpe once said, none of our visions are incorrect.

Daemonhunter had more detailled rules for sanctified weapons (essentially reverse daemon weapons that had particular effects against daemons with specific natures), but I can't recall if it had rules for making them.
 
Ultimately, an ecclesiarchy character could reasonably be expected to know formal blessings for a weapon, but the kind of super-sanctified daemon-killers you're talking about...I'd go into (Occult) combined with a very difficult (Imperial Creed) or (Ecclesiarchy) to find the rituals you're after. This sort of thing - exorcisms, and anti-daemon blessings, would be available but not necessarily specifically known to cardinals and the like, and known specifically to banishers and witch-hunters with experience in this sort of thing.
 
They definitely won't require you to be a psyker. I would suggest that there needs to be a test of the ritual enactor's faith (willpower tests?) and purity (test corruption as if it was a D100 stat, but obviously trying to fail). There may also be sacrifices involved - in the short story concerning grey knight wargear, each bolt shell is quenched in "the blood of a good man, given willingly".
 
Given that Enemies within includes the Sororitas as a background, you may have more on 'blessings and miracles' as part of this.

OOC: Same here, I don't mind what order we post in, just as long as the RP keeps moving along
 
Dracon looked over at the slumped body of Pak from his position at the desk, when he looked closely, he could indeed see a small wound under the chin. 
 
"Yeah, I can see the wound now. Something that small could be hidden pretty much anywhere, pockets, sleeves, trouser legs. I've seen an assassin pull a stiletto blade from the skin under her own forearm before plunging into the victims face." he mused, examining the wound as best he could through the proxy of the hologram. He had already noticed the items on the desk in the hologram did not match what he could see in physicality, so he decided to pay closer attention to those. Perhaps there was something they were missing by looking at what was there instead of what used to be there.
 
{Awareness test. Use my ability 'Nothing Escapes My Sight' to auto-pass with 3 DoS and spend 1 FP}

Either of those would be acceptable. When in doubt, make your best guess on a roll, you won't be wasting space. As long as it's justifiable I'll let it go.

Either of those would be acceptable. When in doubt, make your best guess on a roll, you won't be wasting space. As long as it's justifiable I'll let it go.

Hovering in the void above the polluted wreck of a world, the Rogue Trader vessel 'The Elaborate Ruse' was preparing to leave the system. Dracon Sylvanto was reclining in the plush passenger section of the lander he had been assigned by the ships master, and he smiled a little smile to himself as the Aquila rose gently off the deck and rocketed off in the freezing black. A serf appeared, bearing a tray of sweet treats and various food stuffs, but Dracon waved a ringed hand and the serf backed off.
"Pilot, how long is this going to take?" he asked, pressing a little button on his armrest to activate the vox link to the cockpit.
"Envoy-Maester Trevallyan, we are approaching the primary spaceport servicing the Assado Sector presently. Not a common destination among our patrons, if I may say sire, I've only flown this way once or twice myself." Came the reply, tinged with crackle as vox always was.
"Mine is not a common business. Inform me two minutes before landing." Was his response, standing smoothly and turning to the serf who had brought the food and commanded "Leave me." The serf turned and left the small room, closing the door behind him. As Dracon saw it close, he pulled the fake rings off his fingers, tossing the costume jewellery on the floor along with his Envoy disguise as he stripped down to his body glove. He pulled a hood up, from where it was tucked in a pouch at the back of his neck and quickly stood beside the door the serf had come through. A knock sounded and the serf opened the sliding panel before stepping through with his luggage. The serf stopped as he saw the bundled clothes on the floor and dropped the bag, spinning to see Dracon, disguise-less and grinning.
"Dropping my bag was just rude." Dracon swung a fist up under the serf's chin and punched him into unconsciousness, grabbing the boy's clothes to stop him from slamming into the ground and alerting the other crew. Laying the lad down, a pip alerted him, the vox link in the chair going live again;
"Envoy-maester, we are two minutes from landing final approach is beginning as we speak."
Smiling, Dracon responded "My thanks. Pass my thanks and a commendation for you to your Ship's Master."
"My... My thanks sire." Came the reply, but Dracon didn't hear it. He was already on his way to the cargo hold, a prybar in his hands from the suitcase the serf had returned to him, and he wedged the tip into the bulkhead frame of the internal access panel of the landing gear and applied his strength, bending the panel out of its housing.
Tying a rope around his waist and the handle of the suitcase, he dropped it through and squeezed his body through the gap to cling to the landing gears leg, his foot upon the footclaw that the lander would rest on. As the craft flew in closer to the landing pad, the ground crew cleared of the pad to avoid the downwash of the jets, but
it didn't bother Dracon as he leapt down and sprinted through the swirling winds and dust kicked up. He was off the platform before the Aquila even touched down, ducking under refuelling pipes and round cargo crates to disappear into the darkness of the shadows.
Three hours later, he was strolling down the pavement of a street like a hundred others he had seen that night when he caught a glint of metal at the corner of his eye, a motorbike parked at the side of the road, pops and pings coming from the still cooling metal. He looked at the bike, clearly not new, but cared for, he looked up to see if he cups spot the owner. Nobody was in sight, and he stuck his hand in his pocket, pulling the data slate he had been given and checked the display before looking round. It seemed to be that he was exactly where he was supposed to be, the bike parked outside the address he had been told to reach, and not a moment too soon. Stepping up to the door, he opened it and walked into the room beyond. Sitting before him, a brute of a fellow in guard issue flak armour, a tattoo covering almost half his face and a lasgun resting against the side of his chair.
"Greetings, might I assume you have one of these too?" he asked, holding up the data slate to show why he was there. He stepped further into the room before sitting in one of the chairs at the steel table against one wall. Rocking back on the rear legs, he kicked his feet up onto the surface and slid a small icon of the Emperor out of his pocket and began running his thumb over it. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.
OOC: Didn't want to mess with your character Asymptomatic as I didn't know if you had a grand entrance planned. Ting, just speak to Dracon as you wish, he's a bit haughty but generally good natured. Guarded obviously as any good acolyte should be.

/* EDIT: The now public Sotto Voce is a short track I composed specifically for Oliver's backstory, the notes of which are distributed throughout the post. */
 
~C C D D# D# D D#~
The transport vessel Heritage was wreathed in its own flames and debris. Inside, a boy lost in a sea of fire, in a sea of fire. He clung to his parents' bodies as if they were driftwood, an attempt to weather out the storm. But the firestorm would not pass. Over the roaring blaze, over the sound of his crying, the boy could somehow hear music. Sad, yet reassuring, the boy listened with all his heart. He would rather lose himself in the melody than in the flames. Closing his eyes, he prayed and...
 
~C C D D# D# C D~
Oliver bolted upright in a cold sweat. He had dreamt of his childhood once again, with the same rude awakening. Long fingers swept crimson locks away from his face as he paced towards the mirror. Cold blue eyes stared back at him, addressing his gaunt figure and the off-color patch of skin that ran from the side of his neck to the small of his back. Shaking his head, Oliver slipped on a snug long-sleeved shirt before donning his workpants and boots. He had fastened his torso harness around his carapace plate the night before, holding the few items he brought with him in an impromptu suitcase. Despite his best efforts, a handle still managed to jut out of the suitcase. Grabbing it by the closest loop, he lugged it over his shoulder and out the door.
 
~B B C D D C D~
"Rough night, I take it," the driver coughed, out of courtesy rather than concern. The light of the cockpit illuminated Oliver's grayed skin.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Oliver asserted. "What's our heading?"
"We're about to touch down on Rhodin IV, near one of the major landmarks. No idea what business you have in this dump, but I've finished mine. I drop you off here and your friend a little further on, yeah?" Oliver nodded. He had requested for a transport to bring him to the address listed on a data-slate. For reasons unknown to him, Oliver had caught the eye of the fabled Inquisition.
"Correct. As we agreed upon, I will overlook the charges on you and your ship."
The ship had indeed landed in short order, Oliver making his way off the transport and into the distance. He was in some sort of junkyard, given the massive mountains of trash and towering incinerators surrounding him.
"As we agreed upon, I will overlook the charges on you and your ship," he echoed sotto voce. "The same does not go for my partner."
A muffled gunshot rang out from inside the ship as pillars of fire simultaneously erupted from the smokestacks. Oliver froze where he stood. He needed to think back to the song from his past to regain his composure. Eyes towards the ground, averting his gaze from the roiling sky, he walked towards his destination humming all the way.
 
~B B C D D B C B A~
Past the fields of smog and scrap, Oliver found himself in a meticulously maintained town. The innumerable aquilas provided a sense of safety and order, reason enough that his full equipment could be seen as relatively normal. Hunkering down in an alleyway, Oliver disassembled his "suitcase" and emerged notably bulkier. Scant muscles had been hidden behind a screen of ceramite and confidence. With that, he marched to the designated meeting place. Judging by the similarly out-of-place Guardsman and the man with outrageous hair, the three of them had gathered there for a similar purpose.
 
/* So, here's Oliver. I'm leaving a few gray areas in Oliver's history for (anyone's) later use. Hmm. Well, though it includes odd elements, the post is completed. I hope my choice of text color makes Oliver's lines stand out while not being too hard to read. Perhaps we can nominate orange as the OOC color too? Regards.
EDIT: I had trouble accessing the track while it was Private, so I went ahead and made it Public. Should be able to listen to it now without a SoundCloud account. */

The dirty brown world spun slowly below, low orbit filled with landers, cargo haulers and other spacecraft glinting in the void. One such vessel, a snub nosed mass hauler decorated with Adeptus Mechanicum livery drifted towards the night side of the planet, the forges and space ports glowing through the smog that coated the planet.
Within the craft, the cockpit was buzzing with noise and activity. The pilots flicked switches and turned knobs, pulling levers and calling over their headsets as they approached the forgeworld.
"Rhodin-command this Oberat-Lander 45656 requesting approach vector for Refinery Decima-Alpha depot." The pilot voxed, a small button on his command console lit up as his message transmitted.
"Oberat-Lander 45656, approach vector is 34.8. Maintain holding pattern Eternus at angels 59." Came the crackled reply, the machine voice of a servitor at Orbital Command directing the ship.
"Copy Command, proceeding to angels 59 at vector 34.8. We await direction. Oberat-lander 45656 out."
As the light on the console blinked out, the pilot unbuckled himself from the flight chair, disconnected his cranial plugs and patted his co-pilot on the shoulder. "I'll be right back, I need to take care of something."
His co-pilot didn't reply, but waved a hand as he moved out to the cramped passenger section and entered the code to open the bulkhead that entered the cargo hold. The cavernous expanse was empty but for a few servitors and a lone man sleeping against one wall at the moment, but soon it would be filled with goods to be brought up from the polluted planet below. The pilot jumped down the steel steps two at a time before jogging over to the sleeping man, kicking the stranger to wake him.
"Hey, we're here."
The man on the floor sat up, disheveled but alert as he stood and gathered his pack.
"You have my thanks. Here are the thrones I promised. Remember that you never saw me. I don't ever want to see you again, but if people come after me, I come after you."
The pilot snatched the bag out of the strangers hand, a glare on his face.
"You think I'd be that stupid? It's not you I'm worried about. That servitor over there was a pilot once. I don't want to end up like that."
They headed to the rear of the hold, a small portal by the side of the main loading ramp was bolted shut, but the pilot entered another code into the small cogitator next to the door and the bolts slide back and he pushed the door open, fighting the slipstream to open it. The stranger buckled another pack onto his chest, tightening the straps before nodding at the pilot and leaping into the screaming winds.
He fell through the darkness, counting seconds before yanking the rip cord hanging from his second pack and a plume of material expanded above him, arresting his descent to a float instead of free-fall. The glowing city beneath him got closer and closer before he landed atop a mostly collapsed building. Quickly gathering his parachute together, he hurried to hide it in a vent before moving on to the city.
He ghosted through the thoroughfares and alleys, his bulk putting off most who would attack him, the lasgun at his back taking care of the rest. Black hair hung limp in his eyes and he brushed it aside, mismatched lenses glinting in the dark. He looked for street markers or some kind of map, but came up empty so decided to ask.
He pushed open the door to a dive, smoke and stale alcohol smell billowed past him as a gun barrel pushed itself into his chest as he entered.
"Wat business you got 'ere boy?" a voice asked from the shadows
"Just lookin' for a drink 'n some direction. Not 'ere for no trouble." He responded, holding a hand up as he stopped moving
"Alrite then. But aye'll be watchin'." The barrel moved away and the strangers moved over to the bar and sat on a rickety stool. A dirty glass hit the bar and a mechanical arm reached out and poured a clear liquid into the glass, smoke pouring gently over the rim of glass before he picked it up and downed it. The fluid burned its way down his throat and he gasped slightly.
"Heh, nice one. Not many off-worlders can handle that." The bar keep smiled.
" Not the first thing I've drank that tastes like acid and burns like it too." He slipped a handful coins and a smalll piece of paper over the bar top. "I'm trying to get here, can you point me in the right direction?"
"It's not far, a kilometre or so east of here. I'll put a few directions on the back."
"My thanks." Stranger said "I'll take another glass for the road and be on my way."
He knocked the second shot back, the burn less intense this time but he could feel fire in his belly still. He left, nodding to the shotgun wielding old-timer sitting by the door as he left.
Almost an hour later, the stranger found himself surrounded by half a dozen juves, crude tattoos and piercings marked them, pipes and knives held lazily in confident hands as thier leader straddled a growling motorcycle, the youths hair shaved and a series of steel spikes bolted to his skull instead.
"Hehehe drop the gun old man! We'll gank you good!" Came a call from of the others, and the stranger turned his head to look each way.
Great, way to get yourself in trouble again Jaspar. he thought, unhooking the latch on his laspistol hostler discreetly.
"I'll give you one chance to frag off punks, I've killed younger than you for less." He growled.
"Ahahahahah! You dare!?! What you gonna do old man?" Laughed the juve on the bike.
Jaspar simply drew his laspistol and shot the punk in the chest, punching the kid off the bike onto the road. The jive gasped once, surprised and died on the road, his face going slack as he died in agony. The other juves seemed frozen, shocked thier leader had just been gunned down.
Jaspar simply strode over to the bike, straddled the seat and tore off on his way, leaving them in the dust as he drove off. An hour or so later, he pulled up in front of a building, non-descript and filthy just like all it's neighbours. He pulled up the bike onto its stand and climbed off. Hammering on the door, he opened it a second later and entered.
"Hello?" He called out.
[[OOC://: sorry for the long post, my regulars won't be this long, just wanted to get everything in. EDIT: also dark blue will be Jaspars speaking colour now ]]

Uhh this thread is so wierd. The Subtlety basically boils down to rolling against a number the GM determines based on the characters actions during gameplay and, depending on situations gives a +20/-20 modifier to an important skilled-based action. 
 
Having used it a few times already, it's hasn't 'rocked my world' in a significant way, but has certainly been useful to add in as a cool way to reinforce the player's consequences. ^^. I like it, and hope to see it get expanded in a future splat book

-When your Slaaneshi psyker blows open a safe with her powers, 'accidentally' strikes two other members of the warband, and licks the now cherry hot key found within. 
 
-When your Slaaneshi psyker is worried about losing her psi-focus, so as a backup collects the fingers of enemies she's slain just in case she needs to forge another one. And by collect I mean "bites off".
 
-When your Word Bearer mutates, is turned inside out, and strides into battle duel wielding flamers (recoil gloves) and using Baleful Dirge to scare the bajeezus out of his enemies.
 
-When your Word Bearer decides alone to attack a PR 6 Tzeentch sorcerer because of a crack about Lorgar's "scrawlings".
 
-When your Night Lord forgets he ever in fact had a bolt pistol because things "turn squishy" under his lightning claw.
 
-When your Night Lord modifies his intimidate test by first selecting a random non-warband member, grabbing him by the skull, and crushing it in his fist without saying a word.

The Core has rules for Hunter-Killers and Hellstrikes. Pg. 175 of the Armoury.
 
And you're right Lynata, they are stated similarly to Krak missiles in the TT, which is why I think at the very least they should have the same strength. Right now, a Krak has +2 Dam, +2 Pen, Proven(2) and Concussive(3) over an H-K. The 5 major rpg systems all agree on the strength of a Krak round, which has worked fine up until now where armour hits an all time high.
 
I assumed being the first major forray into vehicle combat that Only War would have some issues with balance, my current dilemna is how to adjust for it. Ultimately, I'd like something repeatable and reasonable for the campaign as I'm sure this isn't the only time that my group is going to want to use H-K missiles to add some punch to a vehicle's arsenal.
 
Rules for Concussive against vehicles would be nice too. Something along the lines of applying the toughness test to all the operators of the vehicle being attacked to represent being tossed about inside the tight confines.

As noted earlier, If you wanted the Gm, could decide that an HK missile works like a Javelin and thus always attacks a tank from the side (IE: top). I certainly would rule that weapons like a Hellstrike missile certainly work that way! If Players want to see their war in terms of modern combat (As I tend to), then that's fine. Modify accordingly. If you are more interested in a WWII esque feel than use RAW. Remember, As Lynata often points out: Both interprtations are equally valid even in the same 'verse! Also remember that different tech levels exist within the Imperium. An HK produced in an advanced industrial world might look slightly different from an HK produced at a modern Imperial Hiveworld!