Eisenhorn

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

"Being frank, Cogs? Scale of casualties does not justify their contributions by any stretch of the imagination. As for the Guard, I won't pretend to know their tactics to the letter, but if the only thing the majority did was collapsing rings of artillery, we'd have been doomed long before ever living to see current affairs. Ignoring all that, ranking enemies above each other in terms of damage caused is a damn fool notion. Holding one evil above others only invites someone to tolerate the lesser evils and threats. So I'll stick to my 'paranoia' in not trusting a xeno to be true to its words. Especially from a kind known for never revealing their true goals even after they are completed."

The talk of maiden worlds and having struck bargains with the local Imperial forces for her services in exchange for the continued safety and shielding of such worlds. Typical, using countless human lives to protect and screen their precious own, while playing at helping and having the Imperium's best interests at heart. He didn't buy it for a second, and considered the maiden worlds a convenient point to pin attention and inquiries on. He wasn't going to comment on intersystem commerce and trade agreements, even between xenos and the Imperium. He knew well that Rogue Traders cared little for anything other than profit and status, and if they could get that trading with xenos? Well as long as the Inquisition wasn't around and also in the xeno pockets, well, all the better then. The xeno turned its remarks to him, hiding its true form with some base illusory tricks most likely, though it did nothing to dissuade him or put him at ease, even if it prevented others from seeing it for what it was.

"I would save your concerns, xeno, there is little to discuss between us. I know enough of your kinds treachery and deceit, regardless of what is said, to ever trust even with the story you presented. Perhaps, Throne willing, I won't have to deal with you any more than absolutely mandated, but I'm not holding my breath on that." Cogs open acceptance of the xeno, the fact that Morgenstern was keen on traveling with, fighting alongside, and trusting this alien, and the strange air all mixed into a thoroughly grumpy and irritable armsman. He'd rather be completing their objective and mission here, not dining and sight seeing. He was concerned with how many likely escaped their recent operation and were preparing to resist further attempts on their activities and gatherings. A ticking clock, as it were, and it was being spent sitting in some high end restaurant, where he would never exactly be comfortable with being at to begin with, wasting time speaking with a xeno. Let alone sharing a meal with one, Throne forbid.

"Nothing for me, thank you." Stukov wasn't hungry, and wasn't going to simply pick at some needlessly fancy, and expensive, meal that he would never have the palette to appreciate, let alone make good use out of. He would stick to his rations and normal meals, with the odd indulgence in Tanna being the rare treat, and continued watching their surroundings carefully. He would remain on edge for as long as they had not secured their objective, and while the xeno was present as well, and given private places like this were bound to be rife with the less than throne fearing types, all the better to avoid giving them the opportunity to get the drop on him. So he kept his head on a careful swivel, keeping an eye on any potential entrances, escapes, and other points of note that might be necessary to deal with should things get out of hand suddenly. He wouldn't put it past heretics to make a move in such a place, especially if they had allies in the local security that could suppress alarms and delay Arbites responses.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

<Snipped quote by Andromedai>

If only she knew...

@Rithy

She'll learn, oh she will learn alright.

Forsaken

Defiance was keeping track of the discussions and questions being asked, some good, some not, and he kept a mental running tally that would help with what he had not exactly gone and considered. Supplies and wagons being offered up, they would have assistance from retainers being sent along by their employer, covering a few other bases that had not quite been brought up yet. Overall it seemed like he was in quite the merry band of misfits, and even a handful were not outright decrying his presence or wanting to threaten him right away! It was a pleasant surprise, but not an unwelcome one, even if a certain fiery individual had been giving him the stink eye for some reason. He couldn't imagine why beyond the usual hatred his kind got and would write it off to that for now, unless given a reason to believe otherwise. He could always prove his worth as usual, especially since she had no say in whether he was here or not, so it wasn't like he had to worry as much about being run out of town instead of getting paid because of her in specific. Dinner time was determined as well, and it was time to collect their early payment and busy themselves until it was time to meet for dinner with their employer. Curious, but he wouldn't say no to hospitality.

"Well that was a fun little meeting we had, I think I'm going to see the sights and, well, see what might be interesting floating around, mostly figuratively speaking. I won't say no if anyone wants to tag along." Defiance chuckled, fairly certain no one had any interest in actually accompanying the Tiefling in his wanderings about the manor and grounds, to see what there was to see that wouldn't get him told off by the guards and serving staff. He pocketed the payment he was given, the first part of it at any rate, and proceeded to begin his tour of the manor and grounds themselves. He was more interested in seeing the various artifacts that might be on display, ignoring the various glares and looks he got as he investigated and looked through the displays, enjoying the chance to simply wander around, pester nearby staff with questions on items, and even the odd pickup and, albeit careful, look at certain items and objects.

Time flew by rather quickly while he wandered the grounds and manor and accomplished his own curious wanderings. He never tried to go where he was told not to go, though he did probably have to get told enough times to stop handling stuff so much. Sure, he was the picture of caution and never damaged anything at all, but it was still the principle of the matter of course. Soon enough the butler would finally track him down and, instead of just telling him to stop fiddling with things and investigating the various trinkets and artifacts on display, also mentioned that it was time for dinner. Defiance was mildly surprised at how fast time passed, but it didn't take being told twice to go where he was needed for dinner. He would settle in much like he had been in the morning, almost falling out of the chair and taking the time to simply relax and wait for dinner to start. There was probably more to discuss, formal introductions to be made, so on and so forth, but he was curious to see what everyone would actually share about themselves upfront. They had plenty of time to get to know each other, of course, but it was telling to see what kind of people he was working with based off this meal.

Unheroic: The Backwards Castle

Walker let Isabelle tend to the misguided poor sod who had pulled a knife on him and tried to go about that strange church nonsense of a magical attack. The man had been spouting out a rather concerning amount of information, even as the blind woman all but leapt into his arms, one arm wrapping around her in a familiar motion as he listened to what was being said and processing it. Something showed the poor bastard their faces, that they would kill him for speaking the words, that this Daggard and his beasts had taken the survivors of that viewing and Kaath went after them. Whatever this Daggard was, well, was trouble and Kaath had been falsly considered to be at blame for the majority of this. Majority since she apparently ensured he couldn't run with that...transformation, curse, mutation, whatever one would refer to it as. Kaath's capabilities only grew more known, as fractional as one could refer to that right now, and he regarded the healed man quietly. Attempts on his life had been commonplace enough that, well, it really wasn't anything personal anymore, and he didn't bother holding ill will towards the poor bastard.

Instead his attention shifted briefly to Isabelle who was buried into his chest and hanging on for dear life. How in spites name had she gotten here? The last thing he remembered was fighting on the bridge and she had been getting those who couldn't, or shouldn't, fight through the escape tunnels and to relative safety. Well, not safety he figured, but at least the slim chance of survival as they could imagine across the seas. "Now how did you even get here ahead of us, little Saint, last I knew you were helping people escape..."

The sounding of a horn interrupted his train of thought and thinking, as was the discussion going on between Violet, the golem, and the plague doctor. What came out of the treeline was trouble, or looked it, given they armed themselves and started making their way across the bridge. He shifted Isabelle behind him, unslinging his own crossbow as easily as one might simply report the time of day or the weather. The other fellow seemed to have a similar idea as well, fetching his own weapon and making ready to meet the newcomers. He loaded the bolts with bodkin tips for that armor, of course all of them were still laced with as potent a poison as he had time to procure and manufacture prior to being dumped into...whatever he wanted to refer to this spite driven mess of a situation he had found himself in. He had made sure he was squarely between Isabelle and any approaching trouble given her, well, obvious condition in being blind. He also spoke calmly as he held the crossbow at the ready as well, wanting to take a chance to draw a better shot as they crossed, as well as try and identify their intentions, though he was ready to open fire at a moment's notice. "That doesn't look like what you'd call a welcoming committee, especially if they were driven this way. Stay back if your not comfortable in a melee, goes without saying."

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Midori Yoake

“Nothing a little modification and elbow grease can't fix, let's go!”

Midori Yoake

Name

Midori Yoake

Age

17

Race

Human

Nationality

Mistrali

Physical Description

Midori is a bit of an odd young man, especially compared to his peers who have made it this far as prospective huntsmen and huntresses. Standing only at 5'7" tall, even after puberty, the thin young man does not do much to actively inspire awe or confidence. With a lean frame and rough crop of reddish hair doesn't really help distract from his stunningly emerald green eyes, even resting behind his glasses as they do (The glasses are purely aesthetic, and a matter of comfort for the young man). His attire is usually some sort of working clothes and his headset, something that helps him keep deaf to his surroundings when he's trying to work on his latest scheme or modification, almost always wearing gloves of some variety. A pair of cargo pocketed slacks and work boots round out his general appearance when not, uncomfortably, in some sort of uniform. The long jacket he wears is a curious mix between an all weather working jacket and lab coat, and is an inherited item his mother used to wear almost religiously, given to him as a parting gift by his father before he departed for academy life and valued unusually highly.

Characterization

Midori is the kind of young man who, in spite of life leading up to this point, has the kind of bloody minded determination that could shake up entire power structures if he could only focus on a single task for that long.

The son of a weapon smith and a merchant, the young lad decidedly inherited a curious combination of his parent's outlooks. He has his mother's obsessive tendencies with anything that catches his eye, be it the latest weapon crafting techniques, a person who just will not explain something, or otherwise obsesses over things. He also has his father's razor sharp attention to detail and awareness, hidden behind an, albeit somewhat true, mask of airheaded nature and easily distractable, and excitable, persona. He's not a hard kid to get along with, though once he gets started talking good luck getting him to shut up short of physically clamping his mouth shut. He approaches every task that catches his fancy with the kind of passion one might approach their magnum opus, throwing himself fully into a task without a moment of reservation or a shred of restraint. He also is nigh impossible to dampen the spirits of, always grinning and looking at the bright side of things. He does this to hide his personal feelings on his lot in life, of course, but he tries not to acknowledge that too often.

Midori does feel slighted that, just because of his parent's status, he had to fight so hard, tooth and nail, and metaphorically beg, and literally borrow and steal, to get where he is now. The fact someone who's capable is ignored because of their status rankles him hard, and he doesn't take well to people trying to throw their status around, especially granted from being born to the 'right' family, very well. It's really the biggest and easiest way to get him pissed off instead of his usual happy go lucky self, and something he'll feel awful about later, though he won't speak up about it to anyone. If he can't make it work on his own, by his own hands and power, he needs to figure out how he will or he doesn't deserve it.

Backstory

Midori was born to a lower class family, his father a peddler and owner of a small pawn shop while his mother was an, albeit illicit, weapons manufacturer. They met during a deal and, well, hit it off somehow. His father was sharp as the blades his wife forged, and the young man spent as much time running around the family shop helping out as he did in his mother's workshop, learning about the mechanisms and devices that made weapons tick, from the humblest knife to the most complex of hunter's weapons that she created. He learned about Huntsman and Huntresses through their weapons, and was obsessed. People from all walks of life who could make a real difference, and strike a path that ignored their pasts? He wanted to run straight off to the nearest school and apply, though both his parents tried to temper this.

Frankly, they lacked the funds to put him through a preparatory schooling. Between his mother, Yuki Yoake, and her work getting short changed since she refused to sign on with one of the major crime syndicates, and his father, Hanto Yoake, similarly refusing to operate as a fence and try to do honest business, they could ill afford such expenses. So Midori decided to do it himself, gathering favors with odd jobs and doing what he could with the combination of his father's cleverness and his mother's ingenuity, all the while building his own Huntsman weapon. Now, the fact that much of the parts and components, far higher quality than he could ever afford, came from...less than reputable means was something his parents pretended not to notice while helping the young boy out with his dreams. He avoided getting strung into one of the syndicates, fortunately, and even saved up enough from doing odd jobs and working all the hours of the day alongside his parents to even secure himself a spot in one of the preparatory schools. Meanwhile he never noticed the extra funding his parents seemed to come up with, or the light meals on their plates when all three could sit down for dinner.

When he was sixteen, Midori would receive his mother's jacket before she departed for a long haul job, that would take several years to finish before she returned. Both her husband and son would miss her dearly, but supported her fully as she departed for Atlas to assist with weapons contracts that a company she was hired by was responsible for. The up front payment was enough to help finalize Midori's tuition and weapon project, and with his father assisting where he could, he would continue to do everything in his power to try and make it into the Haven Academy, no matter who or what got in his way. He did make enemies in the process, people who wanted to put his skills to a more pragmatic use since they could never get his mother on their side. Between his father's sharp eyes and intuition and Midori's own efforts he avoided the pitfalls of tricky offers and the life he managed to navigate through both his own, as they say, legally gray dealings and efforts as well as those trying to poach or headhunt the talented young man for uses beyond being a huntsman of any sort or variety.

Sure, Midori would find his father seeing off fellows of questionable appearance and character on more than one occasion, something he was always told was just business and nothing to worry about, and to focus on his studies, but the young man juggled attending a certain school in Kuchinashi as well as helping out with his father and his shop, the young Midori kept himself busy and focused in spite of his wandering mind, all for the purpose of getting accepted to Haven when the time finally came.

Semblance

Midori's Semblance, discovered in the workshop alongside his mother, is something he calls Artificial Augmentation in which the young man can amplify the effectiveness of something that has been created or otherwise manufactured. From a combat perspective, weapons hit harder and more precisely, and can take more abuse, while from a mundane perspective anything he handles seems to just function better. From better reception during communication, more reliable transports, and just better tools, right now Midor has no significant control over this, able to prevent it activating on a hostile piece of equipment but only barely. Whenever it begins to impact something, it leaves a thin green outline around the item in question. With time and practice it could likely extend further than whatever he is in direct contact with, perhaps as well as focusing and improving single items even further.

Weapon & Fighting Style

Midori's hand crafted weapon of choice is something he named simply as Promise is a heavy duty 'rifle', though the constant tinkering and modification has trouble meeting that definition at times. In its ranged form it is a long arm, using a falling block lever action to lock hand loaded cartridges into place before firing, which the barrel itself can be twisted to either engage or remove rifling inside the length of the weapon. This allows for both shotgun loads as well as standard rifle cartridges, standard as the massive bore would be considered of course. The ranged form also has a curved bayonet mounted, which forms the blade of the weapon's melee form, a naginata. It cannot be fired in its melee form, however, meaning that there are times its better for him to simply fight with it in its ranged form using the bayonet.

The young man fights like a street rat, meaning anything goes and there is no such thing as fair play. Ambushes, blows beneath the belt, handfuls for the eyes, anything goes when it comes to fighting. Midori doesn't exactly enjoy fighting other people, preferring to face Grimm and the real threat that they pose, but his combat pragmatism was drilled into him by his parents as well as his instructors to the point that its practically second nature and he really doesn't think about it, putting it at odds with his general demeanor and personality overall. With the naginata he focuses on outlasting his opponent, using range and deep cuts to, possibly literally, bleed a threat dry before delivering a coup de grace, while at range its the opposite, looking to end a fight in a single, thunderous roar of custom tooled cartridges being discharged towards whatever is being aimed at.

Intangibles

Midori is clever to almost a fault, and just slightly less aware of his surroundings, constantly processing and gathering information without really thinking about it. He's fast to pick up on whenever something is off or doesn't seem right overall, or even when something just isn't operating right. His generally friendly demeanor and non threatening height and build helps him sort of slip by relatively unnoticed when putting his mind to it. He's a surprisingly shrewd merchant and brings a lot of experience and knowledge, having spent his entire life learning or practicing something or another, lacking the ability to simply ever sit on his laurels and just idle for even a few days. He also picked up his mother's skill with weapons, a quick and deft hand in getting damaged ones working and offering advice on improving them as well, should he find himself with allies who could use the help.

His obsessive demeanor at times can be off putting, however, and make it difficult to actually get Midori to focus on what's important if he latches onto the wrong thing. Add in a stubborn determination and it can be difficult to get him to back down or calm down when it matters. He tends to try and look at the bright side of things, even when its not exactly the wisest or most useful thing to do, which could lead to missing things. The higher status someone is, or more importantly acts, the harder it is for him to get along with nicely. He tries, but its difficult for him to stomach nobles and other high ranking people that flaunt and think being born into such things make people naturally better than others, something he's quick to argue over and, for a lack of better terms, call out.

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Time for a Majora's Mask esq countdown.

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Alright, howdy folks, don't mind me just sneaking a CS in here now that I got it wrapped up.

CS

“Nothing a little modification and elbow grease can't fix, let's go!”

Midori Yoake

Name

Midori Yoake

Age

17

Race

Human

Nationality

Mistrali

Physical Description

Midori is a bit of an odd young man, especially compared to his peers who have made it this far as prospective huntsmen and huntresses. Standing only at 5'7" tall, even after puberty, the thin young man does not do much to actively inspire awe or confidence. With a lean frame and rough crop of reddish hair doesn't really help distract from his stunningly emerald green eyes, even resting behind his glasses as they do (The glasses are purely aesthetic, and a matter of comfort for the young man). His attire is usually some sort of working clothes and his headset, something that helps him keep deaf to his surroundings when he's trying to work on his latest scheme or modification, almost always wearing gloves of some variety. A pair of cargo pocketed slacks and work boots round out his general appearance when not, uncomfortably, in some sort of uniform. The long jacket he wears is a curious mix between an all weather working jacket and lab coat, and is an inherited item his mother used to wear almost religiously, given to him as a parting gift by his father before he departed for academy life and valued unusually highly.

Characterization

Midori is the kind of young man who, in spite of life leading up to this point, has the kind of bloody minded determination that could shake up entire power structures if he could only focus on a single task for that long.

The son of a weapon smith and a merchant, the young lad decidedly inherited a curious combination of his parent's outlooks. He has his mother's obsessive tendencies with anything that catches his eye, be it the latest weapon crafting techniques, a person who just will not explain something, or otherwise obsesses over things. He also has his father's razor sharp attention to detail and awareness, hidden behind an, albeit somewhat true, mask of airheaded nature and easily distractable, and excitable, persona. He's not a hard kid to get along with, though once he gets started talking good luck getting him to shut up short of physically clamping his mouth shut. He approaches every task that catches his fancy with the kind of passion one might approach their magnum opus, throwing himself fully into a task without a moment of reservation or a shred of restraint. He also is nigh impossible to dampen the spirits of, always grinning and looking at the bright side of things. He does this to hide his personal feelings on his lot in life, of course, but he tries not to acknowledge that too often.

Midori does feel slighted that, just because of his parent's status, he had to fight so hard, tooth and nail, and metaphorically beg, and literally borrow and steal, to get where he is now. The fact someone who's capable is ignored because of their status rankles him hard, and he doesn't take well to people trying to throw their status around, especially granted from being born to the 'right' family, very well. It's really the biggest and easiest way to get him pissed off instead of his usual happy go lucky self, and something he'll feel awful about later, though he won't speak up about it to anyone. If he can't make it work on his own, by his own hands and power, he needs to figure out how he will or he doesn't deserve it.

Backstory

Midori was born to a lower class family, his father a peddler and owner of a small pawn shop while his mother was an, albeit illicit, weapons manufacturer. They met during a deal and, well, hit it off somehow. His father was sharp as the blades his wife forged, and the young man spent as much time running around the family shop helping out as he did in his mother's workshop, learning about the mechanisms and devices that made weapons tick, from the humblest knife to the most complex of hunter's weapons that she created. He learned about Huntsman and Huntresses through their weapons, and was obsessed. People from all walks of life who could make a real difference, and strike a path that ignored their pasts? He wanted to run straight off to the nearest school and apply, though both his parents tried to temper this.

Frankly, they lacked the funds to put him through a preparatory schooling. Between his mother, Yuki Yoake, and her work getting short changed since she refused to sign on with one of the major crime syndicates, and his father, Hanto Yoake, similarly refusing to operate as a fence and try to do honest business, they could ill afford such expenses. So Midori decided to do it himself, gathering favors with odd jobs and doing what he could with the combination of his father's cleverness and his mother's ingenuity, all the while building his own Huntsman weapon. Now, the fact that much of the parts and components, far higher quality than he could ever afford, came from...less than reputable means was something his parents pretended not to notice while helping the young boy out with his dreams. He avoided getting strung into one of the syndicates, fortunately, and even saved up enough from doing odd jobs and working all the hours of the day alongside his parents to even secure himself a spot in one of the preparatory schools. Meanwhile he never noticed the extra funding his parents seemed to come up with, or the light meals on their plates when all three could sit down for dinner.

When he was sixteen, Midori would receive his mother's jacket before she departed for a long haul job, that would take several years to finish before she returned. Both her husband and son would miss her dearly, but supported her fully as she departed for Atlas to assist with weapons contracts that a company she was hired by was responsible for. The up front payment was enough to help finalize Midori's tuition and weapon project, and with his father assisting where he could, he would continue to do everything in his power to try and make it into the Haven Academy, no matter who or what got in his way. He did make enemies in the process, people who wanted to put his skills to a more pragmatic use since they could never get his mother on their side. Between his father's sharp eyes and intuition and Midori's own efforts he avoided the pitfalls of tricky offers and the life he managed to navigate through both his own, as they say, legally gray dealings and efforts as well as those trying to poach or headhunt the talented young man for uses beyond being a huntsman of any sort or variety.

Sure, Midori would find his father seeing off fellows of questionable appearance and character on more than one occasion, something he was always told was just business and nothing to worry about, and to focus on his studies, but the young man juggled attending a certain school in Kuchinashi as well as helping out with his father and his shop, the young Midori kept himself busy and focused in spite of his wandering mind, all for the purpose of getting accepted to Haven when the time finally came.

Semblance

Midori's Semblance, discovered in the workshop alongside his mother, is something he calls Artificial Augmentation in which the young man can amplify the effectiveness of something that has been created or otherwise manufactured. From a combat perspective, weapons hit harder and more precisely, and can take more abuse, while from a mundane perspective anything he handles seems to just function better. From better reception during communication, more reliable transports, and just better tools, right now Midor has no significant control over this, able to prevent it activating on a hostile piece of equipment but only barely. Whenever it begins to impact something, it leaves a thin green outline around the item in question. With time and practice it could likely extend further than whatever he is in direct contact with, perhaps as well as focusing and improving single items even further.

Weapon & Fighting Style

Midori's hand crafted weapon of choice is something he named simply as Promise is a heavy duty 'rifle', though the constant tinkering and modification has trouble meeting that definition at times. In its ranged form it is a long arm, using a falling block lever action to lock hand loaded cartridges into place before firing, which the barrel itself can be twisted to either engage or remove rifling inside the length of the weapon. This allows for both shotgun loads as well as standard rifle cartridges, standard as the massive bore would be considered of course. The ranged form also has a curved bayonet mounted, which forms the blade of the weapon's melee form, a naginata. It cannot be fired in its melee form, however, meaning that there are times its better for him to simply fight with it in its ranged form using the bayonet.

The young man fights like a street rat, meaning anything goes and there is no such thing as fair play. Ambushes, blows beneath the belt, handfuls for the eyes, anything goes when it comes to fighting. Midori doesn't exactly enjoy fighting other people, preferring to face Grimm and the real threat that they pose, but his combat pragmatism was drilled into him by his parents as well as his instructors to the point that its practically second nature and he really doesn't think about it, putting it at odds with his general demeanor and personality overall. With the naginata he focuses on outlasting his opponent, using range and deep cuts to, possibly literally, bleed a threat dry before delivering a coup de grace, while at range its the opposite, looking to end a fight in a single, thunderous roar of custom tooled cartridges being discharged towards whatever is being aimed at.

Intangibles

Midori is clever to almost a fault, and just slightly less aware of his surroundings, constantly processing and gathering information without really thinking about it. He's fast to pick up on whenever something is off or doesn't seem right overall, or even when something just isn't operating right. His generally friendly demeanor and non threatening height and build helps him sort of slip by relatively unnoticed when putting his mind to it. He's a surprisingly shrewd merchant and brings a lot of experience and knowledge, having spent his entire life learning or practicing something or another, lacking the ability to simply ever sit on his laurels and just idle for even a few days. He also picked up his mother's skill with weapons, a quick and deft hand in getting damaged ones working and offering advice on improving them as well, should he find himself with allies who could use the help.

His obsessive demeanor at times can be off putting, however, and make it difficult to actually get Midori to focus on what's important if he latches onto the wrong thing. Add in a stubborn determination and it can be difficult to get him to back down or calm down when it matters. He tends to try and look at the bright side of things, even when its not exactly the wisest or most useful thing to do, which could lead to missing things. The higher status someone is, or more importantly acts, the harder it is for him to get along with nicely. He tries, but its difficult for him to stomach nobles and other high ranking people that flaunt and think being born into such things make people naturally better than others, something he's quick to argue over and, for a lack of better terms, call out.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

"Doesn't answer mine either. And believe me Smiles, the last person here to trust any Eldar is me. I know damn well what they and their kin are capable of. I'm already watching for trouble, without and within."

Stukov wasn't exactly a fan of getting tugged around by warp powers, but it was something he had gotten used to dealing with when it came to Smiles and her manners. Being pulled through teleportation was also far worse, so he knew where to pick his metaphorical battles. He was firmly on Smiles side in this case, no good was going to come from an Eldar, not without greater gains to them at the likely cost of Throne fearing innocent men and women. How many planets, sectors, fleets, and soldiers had died in the tangled machinations of the Eldar, he suspected not even they could tell him, their regard for humanity was that little. One parading around in Sororitas power armor was a mockery, regardless of the reason, practical or otherwise. Of course Celeste was known here, and they had a private booth to discuss matters in 'privacy', though his constant monitoring of their surroundings did not lessen. He also did not partake in the drinks, doubling down on his steadfast opposition to the decision to not get things sorted back at the safehouse or, even better, back in orbit. Still, he listened carefully to the explanation as to why the Eldar was even present, and it was quite the story.

Another attempt on Ultramar, during the 13th Black Crusade, opposed by the Celestinian Crusade. Made up of the faithful and another damned faction within the Eldar, as well as additional forces that deemed stopping Chaos was more important than playing their games at machinations in the shadows. The timely return of one of the most well known and storied Primarchs was, well, shocking, and it was probably good he wasn't partaking in the drinks or he would have ended up coughing on it in shock. So many names of figures of such importance that it wasn't even remotely possible, and yet he knew it to be true. Apparently the Eldar had personally fought alongside Celeste, and this was where the trust came from. Stukov couldn't bring himself to that same trust, even in the face of this incredible story. He would say as much after Smiles asked her questions, having seated himself about as far from the Eldar as he could manage.

"I will follow orders and nothing more in regards to the xeno. No matter how grand the good of the deed, does it really account for the countless worlds, systems, fleets, armies and more that have been unwittingly and unwillingly sacrificed to save handfuls of their own, and just of those we know about? I don't believe so, both her kind and others of her race, even if they don't answer to her group, have been bleeding the Imperium dry, both directly and indirectly, for as long as the Imperium has stood in the face of her endless enemies. My stance remains the same, Morgenstern, but I will follow your orders regardless of personal beliefs. Just know I will not let my guard down even if the rest of you make the mistake in doing so." The strange aura only put Stukov further on edge, he couldn't put his finger on why, but something was wrong and he could feel it. The fact an Eldar sat at the table wasn't helping, and the mixture of unnatural air and xeno presence was practically putting him into combat mode. Something was wrong, many things were wrong, and he couldn't put his finger on it, and it was driving his nerves hard.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

I mean, not like you can blame Stukov's POV exactly, what with their usual mode of operandi ~

Truth

@Rithy

It's true, they would sacrifice entire worlds for one of their own, and Stukov won't let that little fact, no matter how recent events might have gone, go easily.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

No one want's an Eldar Friend? My goodness!

@Andromedai

Hey, it's perfectly justified in Stukov's case! At least as far as he understands them, which isn't very much to be honest.