09-27-2015, 08:39 PM
The wanderer limped away from the sandy shores, towards the sun-soaked bustle of Costa del Sol, dust and droplets of seawater splattering on his battered armour. Still sore and exhausted from the prior brawl, he could not help but to stumble along some of the thicker pockets of sand and dirt.
The trip across the archipelago of isles was fairly uneventful, the water being rather shallow, only waist or elbow-deep along most of the shoreline. Uncharacteristically for Monkey T, it was almost silent as well, save the swashing of the waves and an occasional grunt of pain from Tartaros.
After a rough hours trek through the shallow waters and occasional isle, the two finally came across the capital of the Empire's control in the Deeps, still drenched in water. Tartaros pulled his robe's hood over his helmet and wrapped some ragged remnants of hide and chainmail over his face, in some vague attempt to disguise himself as the two trudged up the cobble streets of the coastal city. Turning to his now slightly-ragged companion, he uttered, "Get down."
Eventually approaching the sandstone villas and simple tents of the noisy marketplace, Tartaros was approached by a bearded man dressed in odd robes, carrying around a large sack. Putting on his best grin and salesman-like voice, the man said, "Hello sir! Would you like to sample one of our fine marinated cecina breads?"
The marine's curiosity was piqued, and the fact he had not eaten in a good two days certainly helped. "I suppose so... Right, how much?"
"Ten credits, sir."
"Oh, I think I have something better...", Tartaros reached into his robe, pulling out a small, swirling sphere of colour. Tapping it with his finger, an even smaller cube appeared on top of his hand. "I assume that will be enough." he said, handing over the tiny cube to the man.
"Oh... Yes sir. Yes indeed!", smiling, the salesman reaching into his bag, and pulled out a large, rounded loaf wrapped in brown paper. Handing it to the marine and thanking him for his service, the man took off into the crowd with a spring in his step.
Grabbing the loaf with one hand and the handle of his chainsword with the other, Tartaros wandered into the town, humming happily to himself as he limped. Heading through the crowded marketplace was certainly a refreshing experience for the haggard Astartes and puppet. The busy cobbled streets filled with various vendors selling all sorts of services, crops, tools, and all sorts. The midday sun beating down on the crowds, the smell of smoke and salt, the cool sea air, luckily this time not tainted by blood... The angular sandstone and wood buildings. All not fully appreciated by the two before.
After what must have been two hours of wandering through Costa del Sol, Tartaros and the puppet finally came across a large plain gate, guarded by a squad of stormtroopers.
Monkey T turned towards the wanderer, "So... what we gonna do?"
"Be quiet and keep your head down, I'll handle the rest."
Lowering his head and shuffling towards the gate, the marine was stopped by a small hand clad in white. "Excuse me, for future reference, spot weapon searches will be occurring inside the city for the next three days. Recent attack..."
Still making sure not to make eye contact, Tartaros turned his head in the trooper's direction. "Understood."
"We apologize for the inconvenience, sir."
Walking through the gate and into the white barren landscape of the Nexus, the wanderer muttered to himself. "Well, that was easy..."
The trip across the archipelago of isles was fairly uneventful, the water being rather shallow, only waist or elbow-deep along most of the shoreline. Uncharacteristically for Monkey T, it was almost silent as well, save the swashing of the waves and an occasional grunt of pain from Tartaros.
After a rough hours trek through the shallow waters and occasional isle, the two finally came across the capital of the Empire's control in the Deeps, still drenched in water. Tartaros pulled his robe's hood over his helmet and wrapped some ragged remnants of hide and chainmail over his face, in some vague attempt to disguise himself as the two trudged up the cobble streets of the coastal city. Turning to his now slightly-ragged companion, he uttered, "Get down."
Eventually approaching the sandstone villas and simple tents of the noisy marketplace, Tartaros was approached by a bearded man dressed in odd robes, carrying around a large sack. Putting on his best grin and salesman-like voice, the man said, "Hello sir! Would you like to sample one of our fine marinated cecina breads?"
The marine's curiosity was piqued, and the fact he had not eaten in a good two days certainly helped. "I suppose so... Right, how much?"
"Ten credits, sir."
"Oh, I think I have something better...", Tartaros reached into his robe, pulling out a small, swirling sphere of colour. Tapping it with his finger, an even smaller cube appeared on top of his hand. "I assume that will be enough." he said, handing over the tiny cube to the man.
"Oh... Yes sir. Yes indeed!", smiling, the salesman reaching into his bag, and pulled out a large, rounded loaf wrapped in brown paper. Handing it to the marine and thanking him for his service, the man took off into the crowd with a spring in his step.
Grabbing the loaf with one hand and the handle of his chainsword with the other, Tartaros wandered into the town, humming happily to himself as he limped. Heading through the crowded marketplace was certainly a refreshing experience for the haggard Astartes and puppet. The busy cobbled streets filled with various vendors selling all sorts of services, crops, tools, and all sorts. The midday sun beating down on the crowds, the smell of smoke and salt, the cool sea air, luckily this time not tainted by blood... The angular sandstone and wood buildings. All not fully appreciated by the two before.
After what must have been two hours of wandering through Costa del Sol, Tartaros and the puppet finally came across a large plain gate, guarded by a squad of stormtroopers.
Monkey T turned towards the wanderer, "So... what we gonna do?"
"Be quiet and keep your head down, I'll handle the rest."
Lowering his head and shuffling towards the gate, the marine was stopped by a small hand clad in white. "Excuse me, for future reference, spot weapon searches will be occurring inside the city for the next three days. Recent attack..."
Still making sure not to make eye contact, Tartaros turned his head in the trooper's direction. "Understood."
"We apologize for the inconvenience, sir."
Walking through the gate and into the white barren landscape of the Nexus, the wanderer muttered to himself. "Well, that was easy..."