How to start an Inquisitor campaign.

Hello weary traveler. Our war-gaming group simply love inquisitor. We have completed one campaign and have just started work on the next one. The way we work it is that one player comes up with a concept and then it is up to each player to make a character that fits within that concept.  I thought I would share with you the concepts for our latest campaign.

 

Martin is running it and set the stage with this piece of colour text:

+++BROADCAST: WIDEBAND – ALL BOARDING VESSELS+++
Welcome aboard The Ark Highliner – KN0W/3Dg3, citizen of the Imperium. You may prefer to refer to it by its Imperial Designation ‘Manavi’.

Listen carefully to any announcements over the ArkVox, in the event of an emergency these will be relayed not only in CANT but also several versions of Imperial approved Gothic dialect for the benefit of our more basic guests. Should Lockdown Protocol be activated all passengers are to return to their assigned domiciles and await further instruction via ArkVox.

KN0W/3Dg3 (Manavi) is a Mechanicus sovereign vessel, as such please observe Mechanicus Tenets while aboard, in an effort to welcome our esteemed guests the areas assigned to Imperial Passengers will be monitored by Magos Ambassadors who will ensure optimal conditions are maintained throughout your transit.

Please be aware certain regions of the ship are out of bounds for non Mechanicus persons. These areas are marked with signage visible even to our passengers without noosphere augmentation. Attempts to access these protected areas may result in function impairment or permanent loss of biological cognition. 

Our final destination is Augelt FRM678 designated Agri-World, estimated journey time 4 months. Direction Galactic West – Corewards. 

Magos Anazhi-Ro

 

As you can see, he’s given us the setting- some idea of the tone and character of the campaign before we even began to think about our characters. We then got together to talk about our initial concepts and responded with the following pieces. These short pieces of text really flesh out your character and allow you to get into role.

Robin:

Drexel stood on the gang-walk outside the Swift Hunter’s primary hold, looking forward to a little exploration. It was his habit to get the lay of the land whenever he arrived in a new place, be prepared was Drexel’s rule and had been since he was a boy back on Alba in the Planetary Defence Cadet Force, a lesson drilled into him by his grandfather, a fierce wolf of a man who would thrill the young Cadets with stories of his time in the Imperial Guard serving in war-zones in far off reaches of the Imperium. It was only natural for Drexel to follow in his footsteps as his father had before him, tradition is something held in high esteem on Alba and no amount of weeping from his mother could dissuade the boy from enlisting as soon as he came of age despite his father’s disappearance in some far off war. According to the old man, Drexel’s father had never paid enough attention during his training and was notoriously unprepared for life in the Guard, a mistake Drexel was determined not to repeat.

The wait to board had been tedious in the extreme, twenty-seven hours floating in the void in a holding pattern with nothing better to do than service and re-service his his firearms and try to ignore the grumbling of Aemon the aged Xeno-biologist who was his only human companion, discounting the servitors that was, who weren’t much for conversation and it wasn’t worth the shit Aemon would give him for ‘decorating’ them again no matter how funny it was to see the look on the old bastards face when a pair of cyber Tyranid beasties walked into his research lab and began sweeping the deck. Aemon was so mad, Drexel thought he might actually rupture something, but the cantankerous savant just swore at him and threw a handful of something foul-smelling and gelatinous which spattered his boots and took the best part of an hour to get the stink out, which at leased killed some time.

As soon as they were permitted to alight, Drex had announced that he was going to reconnoiter their new home and when Aemon didn’t object he took that as permission, the old man was probably just pleased to be shot of him for a few hours. He stood on the gang-walk for a while just watching the comings and goings, before setting off to explore the area around their birth. He spent some time finding bolt holes, planning escape routs, observing their neighbours and generally getting a feel for the area. The massive hold space of the ARK ship was not half full yet and already Drexel could hear vendors calling out to passers by offering all sorts of nick-nacks and trinkets. The smells of various cocked ‘delicacies’ had begun to waft around as well, mixing with the stink of promethium and recycled air, Drexel stopped a man with a hand cart who was selling meat sticks, and ate one with relish, he didn’t give too much thought as to what sort of meat it was, rat probably, he hoped, but it was hot and well seasoned and frankly tasted better than the ration bars he had been living off on bord the Swift Hunter. While he was chewing on his mystery meat Drexel noticed an Arvus lighter with Commisariat security detail designation ID stenciled on it’s sides, out of which was being marched a man in the uniform of an officer of one of the Palantus regiments, this caught Drexel’s eye as he had acted as scout for the 78th Palantus Heavy Infantry during his time in the 18th Alban Recon, good lads the Palantus, brave, tough. Drexel wondered who this poor bastard was, being escorted by Commiserat S-detail was never good. Drexel decided he should see where they were going, perhaps he could have a chat with Captain Palantus, he might want some meat of a stick. 

Grinning to himself, Drexel sauntered after the beefy Commisariat troopers and their charge. This might not be such a boring trip after all.

Dave:

*****Opening Astropathic duct 1247/theta-malayhdye~c
*****Connecting, patience please.
*
*
*
*
*
*****Connection open

^Welcome to the Kleinstark Concern where we are building a better tomorrow, today. How may we help?
>Acquisitions please
^Please hold
^
^Please enter your secure identification and credentials
>Anders, Nils. 6755234JT-RD3267941. 
^Please confirm your allegiance
>Profit before prophet
^Thank you, please hold
^
^Acquisitions.
>I have the sample.
^Admirable. Your representative will be available on Augelt.
>Augelt? Thrones sake, theres nothing there but farmers.
^Exactly.
>Fine. I’ll arrange passage. This was….costly to acquire.
^Standard acquisition tariffs will apply, plus additional bonus for situational developments. Should the sample prove viable, additional recompense consisting of 0.025% of post-release profits will be deemed appropriate.
>Very generous.
^Should the sample prove non-viable, liquidation procedures will be initiated. 
>………Frak you Acquisitions.
^Nothing personal Nils.

*****Connection terminated
*****Have a pleasant day

James:

Colour Sergeant Hennig hated these assignments. Since he was a little boy he had dreamed of being a soldier, a man of the Imperial Guard. What was he now? A glorified baby sitter. An anti-personal mine had killed his father, grief his mother and the Schola Progenium had provided the rest. He wasn’t a soldier but he was a man to be feared.

The interior of the Arvus Lighter was cramped and warm. His men sat huddled around a deck of cards. He would have put a stop to it five days ago – it was bad discipline – but that was before it became apparent that they could be stuck in this tin can for weeks. 

Their charge was asleep, handcuffed to the iron wrought bed. Hennig couldn’t help but glower at his recumbent form. He hated him. This was a man that had everything- the birthright, the upbringing and the command- and look at him, he looked pathetic. Lord-commander Andrus Fell was a hollow and gaunt frame wrapped in the garments of an officer. Hennig wanted to break him in half.

‘Sarge, what did he do?’ Mumbo piped up. Hennig felt his choler rise.
‘Did you not read the mission briefing you gakking scalp?’ Hennig hated Mumbo almost as much as he hated Fell. One of the other men piped up,
‘Mumbo can’t read, sir.’ The other men laughed and the new lad sunk back into the corner. Hennig would have to keep an eye on this, it wouldn’t be the first time his lads had gang raped a scalp. 
‘Fell lost his nerve and ran away, Mumbo. The man conspired with Orcs. He’s a shitson of a whore and the Emperor will judge him when he stands before an Imperial tribunal.’
Mumbo perked up,
‘But sir, I heard they made him fight his own men. Night after night until he was the only one left.’ This time Hennig joined in with the rest of the men as they laughed. 
‘Mumbo, you’re a gakking idiot. He’s a deserter and a coward that’s all.’ There was a scraping of metal on metal and the men turned to see Fell staring back at them. His voice was a whisper, keen as the edge of a blade.
‘I am a coward Sergeant. I was a coward every night as I took another one of my brave boy’s lives in the pits. Have you ever killed a man sergeant?’ Hennig scowled in annoyance,
‘Of course I have.’ Fell laughed,
‘Not like this you haven’t. I wager you’ve never taken a rock and crushed one of your own men’s heads. I wager you’ve never used your thumbs to take out both of their eyes. I was a coward sergeant. I was a coward every time I went into that pit and fought to come out alive. I should have died with the rest of my men, but my cowardice wouldn’t let me… I never ran- but I was a coward.’

Silence settled over the cabin space. The men stared at the gaunt commander. His eyes shut and he seemed to settle back to sleep. Ghanus’ fingered his knife and stared at Mumbo.
‘Sarge, you mind if we take Mumbo out for a quick burn?’ The Sergeant didn’t approve of smoking on duty- but there was gakk all else to do. 
‘Be quick lads, take the prisoner out with you – I don’t want to look at him.’

Ghanus unfastened the cuffs attached to the bed and reclasped them behind Fell’s back, whilst three of the troopers dragged him to his feet. The commander’s eyes were still shut as he let them lead him down the ramp. The commissariat troopers escorted him down the ramp and away from the lighter. Mumbo trod along at the rear as Ghanus looked for somewhere quiet to have a burn.

Well, there you have it. I mean we could just say ‘I’m a pathfinder’ or ‘I’m an ex-guard general’ but by taking that little bit of time to write some text and share our ideas we really lay the ground work for the campaign to come.

I hope you enjoyed the insight into our character creation process and I will update you with how the first gaming session goes.

For now- General Fell signing off.

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