The quick talking, fast drawing Scum from the Hive


Weapon Skill: 33

Ballistic Skill: 43

Strength: 32

Toughness: 29

Agility: 40

Intelligence: 28

Perception: 30

Will Power: 31

Fellowship: 42

Trained Skills: Awareness (+10)/(+20), Barter, Slight of Hand, Dodge (+10)

Talents & Training: Quickdraw, Basic Weapon Training (Las)/(SP), Pistol Weapon Training (SP), Melee Weapon Training (Primitive), Blind Fighting, Hard Target, Rapid Reload, Dead Eye Shot, Two Weapon Weilder, Gunslinger, Lightning Reflexes, Sharpshooter, Mighty Shot

Prefered Weapons: Caradon Hand Cannon, Hack Shotgun


As you make your way through one of the more seedy lower hive bars you’ve had the chance to see you look about nervously as many of the patrons eye you greedy possibly looking for an easy mark so they can buy a few more drinks off the money they thought to steal from you. Eventually you find who your looking for and begin making your way though the dive towards him. He’s of average build, slightly smaller then most though and dirtier then most other patrons yet he almost had a diffrent kind of dirt on him. He’s leaning his chair back against the wall with his feet on the table and his hat covering his eyes a bottle lazily held in his hand.

As you approach you clear your thought hopefully to gain his attention. He stirs slightly mumbling something about noisy bars and settles down without acknowledging your exorbitance. You clear your throat again and this time he actually moves significantly as his hands come up and move the hat up over his head. You didn’t notice before but there are a lot of holes that could only have been made by hand covering the hat. He looked up at you and cocks an eyebrow at your presence, as out of place as it is, before snapping at you.

“What? who the hell are you!? Huh A scribe from the quisitors offices why in holy Terra’s name would Inquisition scribe be interested in me?”

He angerly slurs as you wince at how loudly he said the name of your organization. You sigh slightly and pull up a chair opposite him as he watches your every move while you do so. You sit down and quietly and begin to explain why your here and why your talking to him. After a few moments and your explanation is finished the scum begins to slowly chuckle and then snort and then guffaw at the top of his lungs.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Heh heh heh… hee hoo… ha ha… Wow thats a laugh. You tell’n me that the local quisitor wants me to become an acolyte and serve the emperor doing Terra knows what in some emperor forsaken place for no pay what-so-ever? HA you must have been tube born to be that stupid if you think I’m going to agree to that. I didn’t live my life down here, dogging gangs, struggling to survive, and beating off my debt collectors, with a stick at times, just so I could be press ganged into some stupid team to hunt down her-e-tics for some fruit in power armor too fraid or arrogant to do it himself.”

With that he begins to laugh again before getting up and pouring the last of its remaining contents over your head. Laughing and calling you a few more names and expletives he leaves the bottle on the table and walks out of the bar. You sigh again pulling out a clean cloth to wipe off the booze from your head and face. You look out though a grubby window as the scum walks down the street lazily and smile at his just desserts as he’s jumped by several well equipped men waiting in the ally for your attempt to recruit the scum peacefully. The struggle is violent but short lived as the fight is taken out of the scum suddenly by a sharp blow to the head.

With that done you pull out a small booklet and pen. Licking the tip you open it up to a page with the words ‘Acolite cell 19’ and several names already written down. With quick precise movements you write down his name in the book and quietly get up and walk out of the bar to your waiting associates.

‘This one will be interesting I think…’


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