#kunrad help

[lorraineofcominantes]

Heinrix bleeding after an attack. Rana forgetting he's a psyker for a brief moment and taking off her pañuelo to tie the wound. Except the pañuelo is the only thing keeping a traje de mestiza's top half remotely modest. That's see through fabric. Fucking slut. And he's just standing there looking like he's actually losing blood. Esta bien pa ba tu? Uh… yes, of course, I was simply distracted for a moment, Ra- Your Ladyship.

[pcharming7]

I like how Rogue Trader starts with Kunrad trying to steal the Warrant of Trade that gives a Rogue Trader their power, but then when you actually see the Warrant it looks like this:

And yeah it’s Warhammer 40K so obviously it’s going to be stupidly big and impractical, but what was Kunrad’s plan here? How was he going to steal something that’s almost as big as the room it’s stored in? Even with his cultist buddies helping him out, it would’ve been a bitch to move even if everything went smoothly. Do you think he was even aware of how big it was? Was he going to walk into the Warrant chamber expecting like a tiny scrap of paper, only to be greeted by this house-sized document and realize his mutiny just got way more complicated?

Anyways Rogue Trader is an amazing game and I’m having a blast so far.

[chemos-factories]

simply cannot be assed to fuss with giving this a title and doing tagging and such on ao3 right now so have an rogue trader fic, featuring my special lil guy getting a big dumb crush on abelard during the prologue

———

Sennaca barely makes it out of the Warrant chamber before another wave of dizziness sends him stumbling. His foot hits the edge of the top stair and he tumbles down the short flight, landing in a despondent heap at the bottom. He doesn’t bother trying to get up. Just lifting his hand to look at it is enough to make his head spin and stomach lurch, especially when he sees the blood still oozing sluggishly from where the Warrant Sentinel had clamped down on him.

“Master Sennaca!”

Sennaca squints at the new shape that’s entered the room, but his vision swims too much to properly make out who it is.

“Throne, you’ve lost so much blood,” the newcomer says as they fall to their knees next to him. Close enough for him to focus his gaze and see it’s…

“Seneschal Werserian?” Sennaca mumbles. “What are you doing here?”

“Giving you medical attention, apparently,” Abelard says before adding a hasty, “Master.”

Warm, if rough and calloused, hands wrap around Sennaca’s and pull it gently up above his head, and then there’s the sting of antiseptic, the feeling of bandages being wrapped.

“What happened here?” Abelard asks.

“I… Kunrad forced me to open the Warrant Chamber,” Sennaca says as he gazes up at Abelard. “He… He was going to kill… He said he only needed my blood… Oh, Throne, I think… I think he means to kill Lady Theodora…!”

Distant shouts float through the air into the room, and Abelard growls under his breath.

“Have you ever shot a rifle before?” Abelard asks as he ties off the bandage and helps Sennaca sit up.

Sennaca hesitates a moment. “I… Yes, I have, but…”

“But?”

“But never at anything that… Bleeds,” Sennaca says. He feels terribly inadequate suddenly.

Abelard’s expression softens slightly, though, even as he presses a rifle into Sennaca’s hands. It’s of decent make and maintenance, if perhaps a little old, and bolt-action where Sennaca would prefer lever - but it’s not the time to be picky.

“Aim for the head,” Abelard says gently as he hands over ammunition next, “or the heart, if they aren’t wearing chest armour. That’ll put them down quick, and with the least amount of blood.”

Sennaca just nods, still dazed. The shouts come again, closer this time, and Abelard glances over his shoulder and drops a hand to the grip of his chainsword.

“Can you stand, Master Sennaca?”

Sennaca frowns, and gives it a try. The whole room spins ominously and he must go pale, because next thing he knows, there’s a surprisingly strong arm wrapped around his waist, helping steady and support him. Abelard guides him gently to the top of the stairs, next to the Warrant Sentinel, and settles him against the wall.

“I’ll try to keep them from you,” Abelard says as he steps back, “I promise.”

Sennaca nods weakly and leans a little heavier against the wall, watching as Abelard turns and moves to make himself a bulwark by the door, drawing his chainsword and revving it to life as he walks. His broad shoulders are accentuated by the cut of his greatcoat. His stride is confident, his stance resolute. Sennaca thinks on the tenderness he treated his wounds with, the gentle worry in his gaze.

Perhaps being Lady Theodora’s heir won’t be so bad, if this is the sort of company he’ll be keeping.

[holylustration]

Dopamine Week #2 - Author Recommendations

This Dopamine Week, I would like to give a special call out to two very important people: my betas, @pallysuune and @qogoist.

You'll know @pallysuune for her many, many works. She has 36 pieces of fiction for the Rogue Trader fandom alone and writes for a variety of minor characters. If you feel an ache in your soul because you want more Nocturne of Oblivion, or Achilleas, or maybe even Calcazar or Kunrad, Pallysuune most likely has you covered.

Beyond just their sheer creativity, one of the things that I really love about Pallysuune's stories are how accessible they are. I don't feel like I need a vast understanding of Warhammer 40,000 to get into them. The plots are compelling and the characters feel organic, and everything I need is right there within the confines of the wordcount.

I will also say that her ability to humanize minor characters is truly unparalleled. In playing Rogue Trader, I didn't think twice about Kunrad or Achilleas or everyone's favorite Harlequin. And then in strides Pallysuune, dangling stories like Moonlight and Shadows or Master of Gossip as a carrot before me! And now I have but no choice to stop and read when I see them.

So, if you haven't already, I'd urge you to give her stories a look. You will find something there to scratch an itch that perhaps you didn't even know you had.

I have the pleasure of calling @qogoist my best friend and my love, but you will probably know him as 1000_Otters. Not only is he a purveyor of badass boss babes, but he is also kind enough to let me borrow his Rogue Traders from time to time (sidearm, anyone?).

Otters has two stories to his name in the Rogue Trader fandom, both of which are highly enjoyable reads.

Now, can you believe that this man decided to make his debut entry into the Rogue Trader fandom by posting Theodora von Valancius dommy mommy smut? That takes serious guts, which is why you should give A Good (little) Soldier a read. Not only is it funny and sexy, but it has a surprising amount of heart for a one-off piece.

His second story is A Rogue's Gambit, which is a Jae Heydari/Female Rogue Trader long-fic. Otters is taking a thoughtful approach to correcting the course of the Jae romance, without losing the soul of everyone's favorite cold trader. There's one chapter up so far (and more on the way!) so now is an excellent time to get invested. His Rogue Trader, Alethea, is an eminently cool cat crime lord that you just can't help but like.

Without these two, I would be hopelessly lost in a sea of typos and repeat words, with trite plots that go no where. So, this Dopamine Week, please join me in showering them with love.

[iamaweretoad]

The l-word! We talked about this a bit, but I feel it needs a more in-depth analisys. I believe you said Mago is a demi-aro (I didn't dream this one up, did I? Sorry if I did! :D) when is the time he would feel comfortable hearing this from Heinrix? And when would he himself be sure enough to admit to having deeper feelings? Both to himself and Heinrix? ^^

Also, do you think that, after the game is over, there comes a time when Mago's criminal background comes back to haunt him in any way? Or is it a done deal, nobody would ever dare to come after him now that he holds the title of Rogue Trader?

Thank you! 😄💜 Took me a little while to untangle my thoughts on this, so apologies for taking so long!

I think, in some ways, it really helped that they were both so thoroughly convinced that neither of them had a future. So there was never any point or pressure to define what was going on between them. It gives them the space to figure things out at their own pace.

I think for Mago (he is demi-aro, you did not dream that up :D), the line between platonic and romantic love is blurred and there is a fair bit of overlap at the edges. I think by the time he found Heinrix in Commorragh, he understood that he loved him, but felt no need to like, demarcate the boundaries of that feeling. It was more of a: 'I think I love this person and I'll figure out what that means as I go'.

When it comes to them admitting it to each other... The thing is, from Mago's perspective, they had been doing that for weeks/months. All those little moments of kindness/affection/vulnerability/etc. I don't think it ever occurred to him that an explicit verbal declaration was like, a Thing? I think during the ice scene he understands, in the moment, that saying it out loud with words is a significant thing for Heinrix, but it isn't telling him anything he didn't already know. Which is why i love the mildly exasperated "i love you too now let me call the healers" dialogue option XD.

The confession that Heinrix is leaving the Inquisition, that he's *staying*, though... THAT hits Mago like a ton of bricks. Something about knowing they have no future, but wanting to hold onto it anyway, even if it hurts..... Anyways, I'm gonna stop before i start quoting Night In The Woods, but you get the idea XD.

----

And his criminal background! He wasn't really a big enough player to have enemies powerful enough to make trouble for him as a Rogue Trader. And he didn't cause enough damage to Imperial interests that it would really be worth it for the authorities to dredge that up either, as long as he sticks to the Expanse.

But his criminal and common background does still come back to haunt him in that the nobility in the Expanse never accept him. These are people who live for several hundred years, have their own private intelligence networks, and nothing to do but dig up dirt on each other, so by the time of the magnae accessio, they all know that he's a former criminal and a commoner and they don't let him forget it.

And I don't think the rumors Kunrad started every really die. Every so often the whispers start circulating again, that he's not really a Von Valancius, that he murdered Theodora and took the warrant by force, etc. Often it's just dangerous gossip, but occasionally it escalates to active sabotage or assassination attempts.

[theevilscribbler]

19 and 24 for the RT ask game!

Thank you for the ask! 19. Which three skills are of the most value to them?

Medicae - Ada prides herself on her training as a field chirurgeon, which is a compliment to her biomancy powers. She can have you back on your feet and into the fray within moments. Persuasion - While a capable fighter, Ada always prefers to use her wits and talk things through if the possibility is there. She sees the value in making friends and allies rather than resorting to violence. Lore (Warp) - As a voidborn, Ada has a wealth of experience travelling the warp to draw from. People find her nonchalance regarding warp phenomena quite unnerving, but she often finds herself talking people through the strange events that can occur during jumps and her calm head has helped the crew overcome many dangers.

24. Do they place value in how their protectorate sees them? Does this sway their decisions at all?

Ada worries about how people view her to an almost unhealthy degree, having dealt with people viewing her as a freak or a monster all her life for her voidborn heritage and, later, for her psyker powers. Her sense of self-worth was previously tied wholly in how she could serve the Imperium, and she tries to escape that after becoming Rogue Trader and forge her own path. But she still lives with the constant worry that she is seen as unworthy of the title and only became Rogue Trader through dumb luck. It makes her eager to prove her worth in the eyes of her subjects and especially vicious towards people who think that her traitorous cousin Kunrad Voigtvir should be ruling in her place.

[aussiegrif]

Ratthew: A Rogue Trader Story Ep: 01

As Ratthew stood on the balcony, observing the peons below his thoughts returned to his home. Leaving his easy life of a lower noble was difficult, however one does not simply refuse the summons of a Rogue Trader. After a brief introduction from the ships Masters of Whispers, he went to seek the audience of the one whom summoned him.

Things immediately took an unexpected turn as the servitors nearby went haywire and attacked the crew. His trusty stub revolver in hand, Ratthew helped to put down the automota and they continued their approach to the ships master. A growing sense of unease fell over Ratthew though, as he feared the machinations of an unseen force at work.

The Rogue Trader: Theodora Von Valancius was an imposing and terrifyingly curt individual. The sort of presence that would make even the highest nobles of his homeworld cower in fear. And worst of all, she seemed completely immune to his good humours and charming words. He did not have long to consider how best to approach currying favour with such a powerful person; as armed insurgents breached the meeting room they were in.

Once again, Ratthew took up arms; although his help was even less required this time as the ships Seneschal, a grisled gentleman by the name of Abelard, tore them to pieces with his chainsword. This secondary attack all but confirmed an enemy afoot; just as Ratthew feared.

It wasn't all bad however as Lady Theodora seemed remarkably pleased with Ratthew's lack of hesitation in engaging the enemy.

After a brief discussion, the Master of Whispers, Kunrad asked Ratthew to accompany him in helping to get the ship under control at the behest of the Lady Captain.

A quick flash of a taser and the searing pain of electrocution followed as Kunrad showed his true colours the moment they were alone. The treasonous cur had become a minion of the Archenemy and was planning to defile the Holy Warrant of Trade.

He would have succeeded too, if it wasnt for the blessed machine spirits of the Guardian that protected the Warrant of Trade, whom assisted Ratthew in defying the influence of the Archenemy and torched Kunrads guards (although the traitorous little grox-fondler was able to escape using warp sorcereries).

Meeting up with Abelard they fought their way to the Lady Captains chambers, picking up both the Rogue Traders personal psyker and a member of the Adeptus Soriritas along the way. It wasn't all good news however as they were to find a most horrifying sight. The Lady Captain and her Arch-Militant both lay dead in her chambers.

After a moment of mourning, they returned to the tasks at hand. There was a heretical mutany at hand, a ship to save and traitors to kill. The ships Navigator was willing to sacrifice himself to bring the ship safely out of the warp, however they would need to retake the bridge and quickly lest everyone be lost to the immaterium.

On the Officers Deck, Kunrad and his followers were there, sacrificing the ships crew to fuel a profane ritual. The other Rogue Trader Successor candidate, Ratthew didn't remember the snivelling weasels name, was there too but had been corrupted by the Archenemy against his will. In a final show of defiance, he threw himself at Kunrad in the hopes of stopping the ritual. Much like every other encounter he had with the man, it was disappointing as he didnt even make it to Kunrad before the warp took over his body and he turned into a spawn of evil before them all.

A desperate firefight ensued with both Abelard and the Sister of Battle proving themselves once more to be exceptional in the art of combat.

Once the battle was over, it was clear that Kunrad had slipped through their fingers once more. That wasn't a pressing concern as they had to bring the ship back to realspace immediately. On the steps of the Captains throne, Ratthew saw the visige of the Archenemy. A servant of Chaos calling themselves the Bringer of Daybreak told him that his destiny was to prove a crucial part in the coming events, before returning to the hellscape of the Warp once more.

Banishing the dread that gripped him, Ratthew took his seat on the Bridge and they were able to bring the ship back to realspace, at the cost of the Navigators life.

As the last remaining true member of the Von Valancius line, Ratthew had become to new head of the Valancius Rogue Trader Dynasty. The perils he faced were far from over though, and the coming trials would either temper him, or break him to dust.

*** Note from the Author: Hey I hope everyone enjoyed this read. I'm hoping to make things a little more concise in the future episodes, however this one took place irl weeks ago so I'm working off foggy memories at this point and there was a lot of world building in the Rogue Trader prologue.

These episodes follow the story we follow on my twitch playthrough of Rogue Trader and I seek to expand upon the personality of Ratthew through these plot synopsis to help guide how he as a character thinks and behaves. I'm a strong believer that RPGs should be approached with a personality in mind and playing the character honestly is much more enjoyable than the min-max way.

Anyway, thanks for reading all this and I hope to get Episode 2 out soon.*** - Aussiegrif

[xenodile]

Getting started early today because I want to make sure I get through everything and I don't know how long this final chapter is. Today is the final stream of Rogue Trader!

Chapter 4 recap and spoilers below:

Having pulled a Low Tier God on Incendia Chorda and freed Footfall Station, the Lord Inquisitor sends the Rogue Trader to Eufrates II to help the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Space Wolves repel a Chaos invasion that has overtaken the sacred forge world.

There, the Lord Captain and her retinue come face to face with Uralon the Cruel, dark prophet of the Word Bearers, and his croney Kunrad Voigtvir. In a final gamble, Uralon sacrifices Kunrad to summon forth the Edge of Daybreak, a greater demon of Tzeentch and the puppetmaster behind the Cult of Final Dawn. Argenta then killed that big dumb bird with her heavy bolter.

With Eufrates II liberated, there was much rejoicing, but the Space Wolves noticed something was odd. The Lord Inquisitor's goons tried to surreptitiously steal some sacred tech from the bowels of the forbidden planet, and one of the tech priests held captive with it confessed that it was an ancient weapon that predates everything in the Koronus Expanse.

Upon returning to Footfall, the Inquisitor has vacated and burned all evidence he was there, with a dangerous superweapon in tow. The Rogue Trader squeezes a location out of the Inquisitor's assistant, and sets off in hot pursuit through an ancient gateway in the far corner of the system!

[arcann]

7. Silent fury

Kunrad screams and something gets slammed to the ground, breaking on impact. Probably one of the family’s dusty glasses which were left on the table for decades and Noahn never bothered to pick up. The dry laugh of the soldier that accompanied him follows and Noahn can feel from three rooms away how tense Kunrad becomes. How his fists clench until his nails leave marks on the insides of his hands, how his shoulders shake, tired bones grinding against each other while the sweat drips all over him. 

“She’s not coming! How can she say no? She’s not-” He stops himself, his breath out of control, the air leaving his body before it has any chance to use it. 

“All the efforts I’ve taken, all the shame this task entails, To waste my time like this?” 

“You think Lady Theodora’s orders bring you shame?” The soldier speaks in a much lower tone, with a careful enunciation. Not what Noahn was expecting of him, “Is that it? Oh, I cannot wait to tell the Lord Captain what your tantrums have told me, Master of Whispers.”

Kunrad clenches his jaw so fast he bites his own tongue. The pain makes his eyes water but he restrains his muscles to let any other sign that he’s hurt show. Noahn wonders if the gloom of the forsaken place would be enough to hide it from the other man, but they doubt it. The muscles of the soldier’s face are already forming a mocking smile. 

“You think I’ve forgotten why you’re here and how you have to return to our Mistress, Voigtvir… and that’s not going to work out for you.”

“Emperor preserve me,” Kunrad interrupts, his words showing his exhaustion, “threatening me is not going to help us but sure Mort, why not? Let it out already.” He turns to pull one of those expensive wooden chairs close to him and slumps over it.

“Fine then, try to suggest with careful, spy-like words that we put a Valancius on a trunk. That we knock one down and store her somewhere safe on our way back. You have fantasized about that a bit, haven’t you? Or…” Mort is stuck in the same position, most likely looking for something the spymaster could be hiding but Kunrad stays undisturbed, massaging his temples and refusing to look up. Still, blood is rushing to his face, more than it should.

They’re practically sitting the same way, him and Noahn. He just doesn’t know it.

Mort however has given up on his examination and is now sighing, rapping his fingers on the table. 

“I cannot believe I have to say it, man. Are you so obtuse?” He walks up to Kunrad and the spymaster finally looks up. “Offer them something they want.”

“I already did.” Kunrad scoffs, ”You were there, arch militant.”

“No, Voigtvir, you didn’t. You listed things we could give away for cheap but you didn’t ask what we would have to do so we can all leave this shithole together.”

“This distinction could only matter to you.” Kunrad starts to roll his eyes, stops before he is noticed but keeps waving his hand back and forth. “She won’t leave this cesspit for some reason. Family, maybe?”

“Then figure out what this reason is.” He hits Kunrad’s shoulder, hard enough to make him flinch. “Think about it, wouldn’t you get an advantage in your little games with the Seneschal if it turns out that ‘family, maybe’ is the answer? Two for the price of one, eh?” The arch militant paces around the room, clearly frustrated by his associate’s lack of answers. He walks slowly but suddenly turns back, stopping right in front of Kunrad’s chair.

“Very well, tell you what. Find out what it is or I’ll see that you and this Valancius both land in the same trunk.” that makes Kunrad look sharply at him, his eyes narrowing with fury. “Unlike you, I don’t have to abide by the rules the Lord Captain set for this mission and I wouldn’t be too bothered if both our ledgers had one bad mark. Last I heard, yours has far more than mine.” 

And that is when Noahn finally feels the unflinching pain of their psyker work. They stop peering into the bodies of the men inside their house and awaken in their own wreck of a body, confused at their surroundings. There is a miasmatic nausea around them, but it’s a sensation that is happening to someone else. Not them. They are aware that they’re being attacked for their manipulations of the wrap but they do not experience it. It’s in their power to refuse to do so, even if they have to interrupt their spying on the intruders to focus on keeping it at bay.

They know there’s a timer over their head. They have been found out by subjects of a person they didn’t even know had a stake in them. And there is no denying this woman has enough power to make her minions drag them back to wherever she wants them to be. When Kunrad comes back with an offer it will be the last time.

So they will take it.

Plans change, especially in their life. As if they didn’t know that. But a bitter voice inside them still gets its chance to protest. Why here? Why now? When they finally finally had the reins of their body back in their hands. When their powers could tell them what was wrong and how to fix it. Why couldn’t the universe afford them just a little more time?

They grind their teeth until it’s painful and bit by bit, the nausea starts to break their psychic wall.

To leave here. To miss their only chance at getting back the one person in the universe that is familiar. To lose the one who cares.

They can wail and cry all they want but it won’t stop this new certainty that there is someone else hunting them. And still,

Why?

—

Kunrad is nursing what is probably the biggest headache of the week. The void could take Mort and his attempts to agitate him, as if he didn’t know they were running a tight timetable. Of course he wanted to get back as fast as possible with their quarry but he had no wish to return to all the places and people that reeked of Theodora. Her vessels, her heirs, her voidship, her planets, her subjects, her arch militant. Himself. Maybe they had dragged her here after all, like an ever present shadow that would stalk him to the end of his life.

This Noahn would get one more hour, then he would ask again. Correctly, as Mort wanted. But if she said no…

Kunrad leans back on the chair once more but this time it shakes and creaks, loudly enough to startle him. He shoves his hand in the armrest but that is a mistake. The piece of wood breaks under his hand and he falls to the ground as if the seat had disappeared from under him. But no it’s certainly there, broken to pieces on the floor.

He groans then bolts away from what's left of the chair, pushing himself up from the floor, trying not to touch it any further. He feels something sharp stabbing one of his hands, but he doesn’t pay attention to it. He can’t stop staring at the remains in the low light of the room.

Something is moving inside them. 

“What the fuck?” 

Mort rushes to his side, obviously not to help but to gawk at the mess that writhed on the floor. Maggots the size of fingers were coming out of the rotten wood, a horrible stench accompanying them as more and more escaped the cushion and what was left of the other armrest.

They watch the mess spread through the flood in different directions with an uncomfortable silence looming over them. His hand won’t stop bothering him and he finally looks at it. A large piece of glass was stuck in it, glinting so much it becomes aggravating to his already growing migraine. He rips it off and presses his other hand against his broken skin, searching for the way back to the room they left Noahn in.

No more waiting around, they would leave this haunted place that did nothing but infuriate him now.