[Rogue Trader] Into the Maw: or How I Became Incredibly Wealthy


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I haven't seen a Rogue Trader AP thread on these boards yet. Elemental is trying to get a by-post thread off the ground, but I figured that there might be a market for the adventures of Captain Laertes Geneso Olivares in these parts.

Introductions are in order: the group consists of myself, one of my friends, and the GM. It's his first time GMing any game, but he's doing really well. This is all our first time using the DH/RT system, but we're figuring it out piece by piece.

Without further ado:


Being the Personal and Confidential Record of Laertes Geneso Olivares, Rogue Trader, Captain of the Imperial Cruiser His Invincible Will.

It was pure chance that brought me to Port Wander. Our family had never spent long at this port, preferring the less... stringent... world of Footfall. But we were running low on supplies before setting out for the Expanse, and it would not do to start a tale of bloody revenge on an empty stomach.

But I digress: we were docked at Port Wander. Whilst I was negotiating for food and other such consumables, one of my servants brought me a message from one Orbest Dray, a man of no repute, who wished an audience. He proclaimed that he was a servant of the Olivares, and had been waiting for one of my line to return. In truth, I would have ignored his message and continued with my business, but he did mention that he had a gift for me. A gift, he said, passed on from my departed great-grandfather.

Now, I am loath to discard treasures of my family’s past, particularly when they are freely given. Taking up arms, and with four sworn bodyguards accompanying me, I set forth to meet this Dray. Let the man die who calls me a fool, for even then I suspected an ambush. But, in cunning, I was accompanied by a servo-skull linked directly to the mind of my Mechanicus Magos, who was ensconced within the machinery of the ship’s Teleportarium. Should danger threaten, he could extract me at any time.

We made our way to the market Dray had decided was to be our meeting place. The stench of that wretched hole haunts me still, though I wore filtration plugs. Truly, I was glad I wore gloves and full armour for the crowd jostled me so. As we moved through the heaving mass of people crowding the market, I was alerted by the ever-vigilant Magos that we were being followed. His servo-skull’s auspex and keen ocular implants had pinpointed four men pursuing us in a loose ring. I motioned for one of my armsmen to follow one of their number, and for the rest to follow me.

Dray, it must be said, was a disappointment. He wore naught but rags, and stank of cheap spirits and urine. Nevertheless, he recited the oaths of service most faithfully, and beckoned us to a more secluded location. There he began a rambling tale, stopping frequently to scratch himself or check over his shoulder.

As far as I can recall, he said that he served aboard The Emperor’s Testament, a ship captained by one Vos Karlorn, which was part of my great-grandfather’s fleet. At some point, the fleet was blown off course by a warp storm, and they found themselves far from known space-lanes. There, they detected an ancient astropathic signal from a ship long thought lost: the fabled Righteous Path.


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At this point, I began to fall asleep. Surely, this doddering old fool did not presume to tell me that he had some knowledge of that fabled treasure ship? I had heard the stories since childhood: a ship filled by a madman with the treasure of a plundered world: a ship lost two thousand years ago: a ship no man could find a trace of? He continued to ramble as I dozed off, but then brought out a box marked with the Olivares crest, the model of the crest on my ring.

As I took the box in hand, it sprung open. Some sort of gene-lock, I suppose, cunningly wrought. Within the case was an ancient mnemolith, an astropathic call recorded for eternity upon a black stone the size of a man’s heart. In short: a treasure map. But before my hand closed around the stone, a raven swooped down from the high buttresses and snatched the precious item from me.

Treachery! At the same moment as that damned bird stole what was rightfully mine, those men who had been following me opened fire, killing the armsman I had sent to follow them. My band returned fire, though the density of the panicked crowd hindered their aim. I am sorry to say that a few of their shots went astray, and some of the common men and women of the station were killed.

With a practiced eye, I could see that my attackers were not trying to kill me, but merely inconvenience me and allow the damned bird to escape. However, the stone it carried proved too heavy for its pathetic wings, and both stone and bird crashed to the ground but twenty metres away. With the servo-skull following, I ran for the rock, encouraging the crowd to throw themselves at my attackers as I did so. Loyalty to the Emperor is not unknown in Port Wander, and a dozen men piled onto one of the scum, dragging him down under their combined weight.

As lasfire shot past me, I reached the mnemolith, and with my hand around it, called for immediate teleportation. My good Magos complied and the servo-skull and I were instantaneously whisked aboard my ship. Teleportation being rather indiscriminate, one of my bodyguards, one of my attackers, three civilians, and that thrice-damned raven were also swept up in the arcane energies.

Seeing my stormy countenance and knowing of my wrathful disposition, the scum threw his mistempered weapons to the deck. I had him placed in irons and escorted to the brig, there to await interrogation at my leisure. The raven attempted to fly off, but a shot with my fine laspisol brought it to the ground. Knowing that psykers oft use such birds as familiars, I had it placed in a lead box and guarded.

I gave the mnemolith to one of my trusted officers, and bade him convey it to the Astropaths. I also ordered the crew to prepare for departure. I also received vox-summons from Arbitrator-Sergeant Targos, who asked for an exchange of prisoners. With great obsequiousness, I convinced him to wait but an hour. Then, I proceeded to the brig.

The prisoner was initially unresponsive, but once I told him in great detail of the pain that awaited him, he became more marginally eloquent. I say marginally because it was evident that some manner of psychic block had been placed in his mind, preventing him from revealing his employers: more witchcraft at every turn! I did, however, discover the name of the man who recruited him, and had his name searched within the logic-engines of the ship.

My search proved fruitless: his recruiter was a notoriously secret black-market operator aboard the station. It was doubtful we could compel the scum further, so I decided to release him into the care of the Arbites. We descended to the station aboard one of my Aquila landers, and escorted by the nine Lightning fightercraft in my charge. It would not do to appear weak before my now-revealed enemies.


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Cool stuff, O nominal near-twin! Looking forward to seeing the other PC introduced, as the captain/crew dynamic seems like one of the more interesting pieces of RT -- especially with someone as, er, entertainingly self-regarding as Laertes appears to be...

How many sessions in are you guys?


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Cool stuff, O nominal near-twin! Looking forward to seeing the other PC introduced, as the captain/crew dynamic seems like one of the more interesting pieces of RT -- especially with someone as, er, entertainingly self-regarding as Laertes appears to be...

How many sessions in are you guys?
Similarly, my semi-titled sibling. We just finished our first session last night: I started the writeup at 1:00am and finished at 3:00am.

The captain/crew dynamic is quite fun. It's almost like Kirk and Spock... if Kirk was an insane self-righteous amoral bastard, and Spock was prone to fits of whimsy and lobotomization...

Anyway, onward to more plot and plotting:

I met with Precept-Marshall Kyra Valkyran: a direct if entirely humourless woman. She identified my prisoner as a servant of the Fel dynasty. Rogue Trader Hadarak Fel, whose cruiser even now was docked in the station, apparently desired the location of the Righteous Path, and was not above petty thievery. Apparently, he also had a witch in his employ.

I gave over my prisoner, received promises that his execution would be swift and if possible painful, and returned to my ship with my armsmen. Dray had found his way to the Arbites station as well, and I bade him follow. The Astropath had finished deciphering the message by the time we returned. The rock contained a single picture of a star system, though none shown it recognized the location. I asked the Astropath to scan the ship of Hadarak Fel, looking for a psychic presence. He found one: a rogue psyker of considerable power. I ordered this grievous breach of Imperial law to be reported, and sent a message bearing my personal seal to the Inquisitors of Scintilla. Though it would take many months for a response, if one ever came, official censure would tarnish the Fel line.

Dray revealed that the witch’s name was Lady Ash, devoted servant to the Fel line. This psyker, I deduced, had probably gotten the same picture from the mnemolith as my Astropath. Her raven might have acted as a psychic conduit, so it was logical to assume that the Fel dynasty knew what I knew. Therefore, they would wait until I had uncovered the treasure’s location, and then swoop in and steal it as before. This, I knew, could not stand. While I favoured teleporting a crate of virus grenades into the psyker’s quarters, my Magos had a more cunning plan. I will tell you of it momentarily; first you must know how I uncovered the treasure’s location.

I must admit my family’s name has fallen on hard times, and our coffers are not as full as they once were. The offices of the Imperial Navy at first declined to speak with me, as I had failed to bribe a sufficient number of bureaucrats. But I did not despair, for to despair is to fail. With the aid of my ship’s aging Archbishop, and bearing his sacred relic, the Ear of St. Drusus, we gave homage to the Ecclesiarchy of Port Wander, and they lent pressure to my quest. The Navy, fearful of divine censure, gave me the star system with little trouble: the Divine Right rested in Magoros. They even provided charts. So kind of them.

As I sat though hours of tedious negotiation and pleasant chit-chat, Magos Robertson was undertaking a task of great cunning and personal risk. In an Argus lighter, he had faked security clearance and snuck aboard the Fel’s cruiser. Once within, he made his way, bold as brass, to the Enginarium, and, with a little luck, gained access to the primary warp core cogitator unit. Once within, he planted three melta-bombs of his own devising. The instant they detected warp transit, their specially primed detonators would blow the core to pieces, taking the whole of the ship along with it.

Unfortunately, the moment I discovered the location of the treasure, the ship prepared for warp. Evidently, the Hadarak’s witch was monitoring my very thoughts! This turn of events was of great concern for my Magos, as he had to make haste for his craft. Unfortunately, he found it impounded and mag-locked for transit, and so had to devise an alternate plan. In his void-suit, he clung to the hull of the great ship until her void shields dropped the moment before warp-transit. The tech-priests detected his beacon and beamed him aboard just as the cruiser made her last warp transit. How my Astropath’s howled as that ship died... I examined the raven-familiar: it had exploded into feathers and gore the moment the ship activated the warp drive. Truly, my heart leapt with joy.

Some may think that it was wrong of me to kill so many innocent men, but those shipmen that served Fel were party to piracy, heresy, and sedition: they earned their fate. None who ally themselves with rogue witches and worse can be counted innocent.


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We left port shortly after, having checked and rechecked all systems for signs of tampering. I shall skip the tedious story of the next two weeks, and speak only of the warp-ghosts we saw on our journey.

Fifteen days out of Port Wander, the Navigator detected an eddy in the warp moving towards the ship. While a more cowardly man would have ordered his ship out of warp, I ordered a steady course. As the wave passed over us, buffeting the ship but causing little damage, our eyes saw a strange sight. Alongside us sailed a ghost ship: the very image of Fel’s cruiser. Our paths intersected, and we were treated to the sight of ghostly bulkheads and crew. Though they could not harm us, they did shout fearfully, and we were glad to be rid of them. Though it unnerved the men, I was rather glad to get into a shouting match with the late Captain Fel, an activity I was never able to enjoy while he lived. Sadly, he was mostly incoherent, though very loud indeed.

After passing through the Passage, we dropped out of warp to realign, and my pilot detected a weak repeating distress beacon. Being a kindly soul, I moved my ship towards the dense asteroid field from which the signal emanated, all the while scanning the debris. My wise foresight was rewarded: two raiders lurked in the asteroid field, waiting over a wounded pilgrim ship. Piratical scum; their first indication that we were aware of them was when a volley of fire sliced into their hull. With a lucky lance strike, we damaged one ship’s auger array: this proved to be its downfall. As it powered towards us, it failed to avoid a large asteroid, which crumpled its hull and left it a drifting wreck.

We engaged the second raider in a chase through the fields of rock for over an hour. All the while, its captain and I exchanged threats and boastful words, neither side giving an inch. But with a lucky volley, we disabled the pirate’s void shields, and in desperation it turned to ram us. The combined fire of our starboard battery turned it into wreckage before it could close.

I fear my gun-crews did too fine a job: the dying ship’s warp-engines tore a great hole in reality, and our great vessel barely escaped its foul energies. Sadly, the pilgrim ship was dragged into the vortex, but quick action on the part of the Teleportarium crew was able to save fifty souls from certain damnation. They were apparently in the middle of a mass: their faith rewarded them with our intervention. Our teleport also saved a holy relic from that dying ship, which I ordered interned in the Temple of the God Emperor Triumphant. The pilgrims were bound for Footfall, but their pilgrimage must wait; we have more weighty matters to attend to. The God-Emperor will forgive.

We set to work stripping anything useable from the wreckage of the first pirate vessel. Their atmosphere had long since been exhausted, and no crew remained alive. At this moment, the scriveners are busy counting the plunder, giving me time to complete this record. I pray that their inkwells may never run dry, for there will be plunder aplenty when we arrive in Magoros.

Thought for the Day: The Weapon Slays Where the Hand Wills



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damn, from what i know of the avrage crew size on a rogue trader ship you must have just killed at least a few thousand people.
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damn, from what i know of the avrage crew size on a rogue trader ship you must have just killed at least a few thousand people.
That'd be 95,000 heretics on Fel's ship, 36,000 pirates between the two Raiders, and an unknown number of innocent pilgrims, who we didn't really kill.

Spoiler: Show

Lunar-class Cruiser
Manoeurvability: +9
Detection: +11
Turret Rating:2
Armour: 21
Hull Integrity: 73

Essential Components: Jovian Class 4 Drive, Strelov 2 Warp Engine, Gellar Field, Warpsbane Hull, Multiple Void Shield Array, Ship's Master's Bridge, 1.r Life Sustainers, Voidsmen Quarters, M100b Auger Array.

Supplemental Components: Compartmentalized Cargo Hold, Temple-Shrine to the God Emperor, Teleportarium

Weapons: 2X Mars-Pattern Macrocannon Broadsides (port and starboard), 2X Titanforge Lance Batteries (port and starboard), Sunsear Laser Battery (prow)

Complications/Past History: Resolute, Wrested from a Space Hulk

Note: for Laertes' starting aquisition, the GM agreed to give the ship unstable plasma generators, for +5 power, and a chance of going BOOM.


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huh, genocide in the first session. i'm impressed.
Genocide? Hardly. Check your definitions before you post. It was more of a wholesale slaughter of a heretical group of malcontents, recidivists, and traitors. Is it not written in the Verses of St. Drusus, "Let no heretic shelter behind ye: for ye shall be branded a heretic by your weakness."?

Captain Laertes Geneso Olivares

Spoiler: Show

WS: 30
Fel: 53

Trained Skills: Charm, Ciphers, Command, Commerce, Common Lore (Imperium, Rogue Traders), Evaluate, Intimidate, Literacy, Pilot (Spacecraft), Scholastic Lore (Astromancy), Speak Language (High Gothic, Low Gothic, Ship's Cant)

Talents: Air of Authority, Decadence, Pistol Weapon Training, Melee Weapon Training

Weapons: Best C. Laspistol, Common C. Power Sword
Armour: Best C. Carapace

Wounds: 10
Insanity Points: 9
Corruption Points: 3

Path: Void Born -> Vaunted -> Duty to Dynasty -> Unexpected Command (Press-Ganged) -> Motivation: Pride
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