NSWRPF Archive D U N E - Chronicles of the Imperium

Sayyadina Denayade' Tus
Atop the Maker east of Mount Idaho

For six long days and nights, Rees and Dena traveled across the sands, searching for their Harkonnen enemies. But the sands are good at hiding trails and tracks. But it did hold some signs for them, and on the seventh evening, things began to change.

Tracks. Those of vehicles, and perhaps even troops had disturbed the sands. In the open sands, the noise of machines carries far, if not their direction.

But soon, they were able to pick up something. Troops, spread wide. One at first, and then a few more. A search pattern perhaps? What could they be looking for? The entrance to something? Something they lost? It could be anything. They were busy, that much was sure, as Dena looked through her eyepiece.

They could not afford to get to close to the them, at the moment. Dena touched Rees's shoulder, and gestured at what she saw.


TAG: Darth Sadis, GM

Thank you.

 

OOC: Terribly sorry about the delay. I was giving it a little while before posting again in hopes of Saintheart showing up so I could avoid accidentally blowing him sky high due to lack of movement on his part, but...I got sidetracked by abour four papers to written at once.

 

IC: Balthassar Rellick
Arrakeen, Arrakis

It appeared that they had run out of time. Or free time, at least. With an agility born from many years of training, Rellick climbed back up over the canisters he had scattered, moving to follow his comrades-under-fire up the ladder and out of the warehouse. It would not do for an assassin to be caught in his own trap, after all. Such things tended to bring about a bad reputation post mortem, not that he would be in any condition to worry about such things were it to occur. As he neared the upper section of the ladder, Rellick took one hand from the task of climbing, and put it to use drawing and aiming the loaned pistol at his carefully spilled trap. Resting his finger on the trigger, he prepared to fire, awaiting only the moment the other two cleared the top of the ladder...

TAG: Saintheart(?), BobaMatt, TheManInBlack

OOC: Apologies for the wait, once more. BobaMatt, the ignition is yours to play. If we're starting up again, let's do it with a bang.

 

IC: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen
The Harkonnen Embassy, Kaitain

As Feyd left the group standing there he could feel the eyes of one of them still on his back. He was used to people watching him, but this was different. The stare of this man cast shivers down his spine. He wanted so much to hide from it, but he could not show any sign of uncomfort. Feyd stood up straight, and shrugged it off. For a moment he could still feel it on him, but then it moved away. Feyd relaxed his shoulders, allowed himself to become merry again.

Feyd's merriment was interrupted when Thufir decided to break him up from Lina, and pull him away from the party. Feyd nodded a goodbye to Lina, and allowed Thufir to lead him away. It was almost time for the duel, and Feyd had to get ready. As he and Thufir made there way towards the arena, the rest of the crowd followed.

Feyd, and Thufir took a different door from the rest of the group taking them to the preparation chambers, where Feyd removed his party clothes, and got dressed for the duel.

TAG: Matt.

OOC: I would continue, but I am unsure of what to do next.

 

OOC: Apologies for the delay. As has been the case for several weeks now, I have insufficient free time to participate in this game. That is unlikely to change for at least another month, if not beyond. It has been a real pleasure to play, and I hope you all are able to continue. For the moment, though, unfortunately, I am not able to join you.

 

The Count Hasimir Fenring and his Lady Margot
Harkonnen Embassy, Kaitain

Fashionably late, or late just enough to cause something of a stir, House Fenring made their entrance in the grand embassy. Hasimir noted with mild interest the pervasive architecture; interesting, but not terribly attractive to his eyes. Perhaps lust for power cast the hard lines of the pillars and walls in a different light. Not that Fenring cared. His head bent slightly, he looked about the entrance, a smile on his lips. All eyes would of course be on Margot, stunning as she was in the best finery from the furthest reaches of the Imperium. This was her task: distraction, seduction. Careful movements and a gentle, subtle use of the Voice would have men like putty in her hands.

If Margot was the gilded trap, then Hasimir was the scalpel that made ever-so-small cuts.

His words carried threat, mystery, poison. A verbal joust, and yet his blades were poisoned, a poison that would eat away at the mind and the heart...slowly. Only too fitting for a master assassin.

Upon their announcement, they made their way to the outskirts of the grand fete, observing gently before casting their nets.

Fenring frowned. "Hm-m...it seems, my love, we've stumbled onto something."

Margot's smile hid her searching eyes.

Tag: Matt, Mister Master, Saint, Party People!