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I am Jb; Briton by birth, roleplayer by my own hand, and lover of literature. I am also an amateur historian, a receiver of a Bachelors degree in Ancient and Medieval History - quite a useless degree, actually - and would like to think that I'm a fair, honest and open guy.

As far as RP'ing goes, I'm pretty open to most things really, all you need to do is ask! :)

So, if you've ever any questions for me, wish to speak about RP's involving myself or run by myself, or simply feel like a chat, don't be afraid to get in touch.

Most Recent Posts

Edmund Andamar, Fifth son of the Andamar Dynasty, Rogue Trader

The name of Andamar, and the Rogue Trader dynasty bearing both that name and a Warrant on which it is written, are known far and wide throughout the trade lanes and those that take a great interest in exploration; then again there are also those that say its first bearer, Cornelius Andamar of Praetoria, is in fact richer in wealth than even many of the High Lords themselves! This theory, although never proven conclusively, has in recent times appeared to be more true than not.

This tale concerns not Cornelius, nor any of his four older sons, but pertains to the fifth and youngest son Edmund.

Edmund Andamar has been a scholar since the time he first learnt his letters, retaining even into his present thirty-second year the willowy build and long patrician face one would expect to find on a librarian, and not on the vestige of one whose purview is to expand the bounds of the Imperium, others often making the mistake of underestimating him in combat... a misapprehension made only once.

Edmund can more often than not be found on his Command Bridge, hands held behind his back, and his back as straight as an iron rod. With his piercing blue eyes, combed back hair of chestnut brown, and a variety of pristine naval-style uniforms, it can often be forgotten that he has served and seen action before.

It matters little that he commanded a Tempest-class Strike Frigate in Battlefleet Bakka, at least to his old man, Cornelius having gained command of his own cruiser by the time he was twenty, and as such – and due to his extreme love for literature, music, and the profoundly good things in life – he remains a failure in his fathers eyes.

Nevertheless he eventually received his own Warrant, grudgingly given because none of Edmunds siblings appeared to have much get-up-and-go in them, and his father made sure he was furnished with a fine vessel and gotten out of his sight as swiftly as possible.

Now comes his maiden voyage into the unknown, his own ship under his command, and Edmund – even when he was under fire from Drukhari raiders – has never been more nervous.
π•―π–—π–†π–’π–†π–™π–Žπ–˜ π•»π–Šπ–—π–˜π–”π–“π–†π–Š

@Jb - Edmund Andamar - Fifth son of Andamar Dynasty and Rogue Trader

@ClocktowerEchos - Hishiryn 08-MN Kappa - Chief Enginseer

@POOHEAD189 - Grimri 'Ironclad' Haldengard - 3rd Platoon Boar Squadron, (Squat) Mercenary

A Rogue Trader Adventure

The sickening and thickened smog of Praetoria, mingled with the cheers of celebration and the more refined scent of blessed incense, all were suddenly obstructed by the slamming down of iron shutters. All noise without was silenced and, as a series of specially commissioned ventilation machines hummed into life, the equally hazy room began to clear of the choking fumes.

Internally the chamber looked much like any other on the planet, stale and constructed from burnished metal, one door leading in and out, the windows facing onto just another street full of bustling citizens below. Here and there could be seem specks of sophistication, a splash of colour on an otherwise metallic backdrop, borders painted in white, black and gold or the very systems that now filtered the air and made the room habitable. Not that this much mattered, for only two chairs and a small table provided what could be called 'trappings' in the form of furniture and these were currently empty... but not for long.

With a pneumatic hiss from the corridor-side of the chamber, a door sliding open with more smoothness and ease than its weathered appearance might have suggested possible, two figures entered, each taking a seat on either side of the table.

Fist to sit was the clearly older of the pair, although multiple rejuvenant treatments had kept Cornelius Andamar, naval hero and founder of the Andamar Dynasty, far younger than his appearance may first suggest. Dressed in a simple cream doublet and trousers, his boots shining due to military-trained polishing, he took the left seat and placed his peaked cap on the surface of the table, one hand recently relieved of a glove moving up to smooth out his jet-black hair.

Edmund Andamar sat second, holding the hilt of his naval sabre as to avoid smacking it into the seat as he did so, the youngest son of the dynasty keeping himself informal in a crisp white shirt and blue trousers with a red stripe down the crease, his boots easily the equal of his fathers. Being only thirty-two Terran years of age meant he had no need for treatments, but his face nevertheless echoed that of his sire in so many ways as to be unmistakable – the high cheekbones and arching brow, the thin lips and pointed chin, even the glacial blue eyes that seemed to bore through a man – yes, he was the spitting image of the older man, and he knew without a doubt that Cornelius hated him for it.

β€œLet us get this out of the way then,” grunted Cornelius, placing an auto-writer atop a piece of parchment so ancient that it was claimed the God-Emperor had touched it himself, β€œyou will have a ship that I commissioned a century ago from the Kormisoshi Dockyards, as well as all the financial aid you may need... up to a point,” ice met ice as the older man glanced up from the table, the quill of the auto-writer scratching out a tattoo even as he spoke.

β€œThank you, father,” replied Edmund, dropping his had into the most tenuous of nods, β€œyou do me a great honour with this Warrant.”

β€œThose fools out there can believe I do this because I favour you, indeed I encourage it, but I hold no love for you. Had any of your siblings desired to extend the limits of our Imperium, rather than continue in His service through His military, I would have chosen them. Your mother may champion you, but your brothers are your equals or more.”

Allowing the words to wash over him, Edmund simply held his expression as it was, flinching inwardly as if he had been struck.

β€œYes,” he exhaled slowly, β€œI know.”

One gloved hand reached out for the parchment, the auto-writer withdrawing its quill and sitting motionless once more. In an almost tender movement Edmund plucked the wax-sealed document from the table, rolling it up and holding it leisurely in one hand, looking once more to his father.

β€œGoodbye, sir. May the God-Emperor smile on you and my family, blessed for a thousand years more.”

Cornelius could only give a low growl of vitriol, slipping his hands back into his own gloves, meeting the eyes of his fifth son and gesturing pointedly at the door.

β€œGet your arse out of my sight.”


So here it is, glory to the God-Emperor and to the Andamar Dynasty!
Into the fires of battle, unto the Anvil of War...
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