Quest Items in Rogue Trader are required to complete Quests. Some of these Quests cannot be completed without Quest Items. Quest Items are found in specific Locations or are given by an NPC related to the corresponding Quest. This page covers a list of all the Quest Items in the game and relevant information as locations, properties and related quest.
Rogue Trader Quest Items
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Quest Items Gallery
Quick Search of all Quest Items in Rogue Trader
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Description |
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"The world turned out to be completely different from what I had imagined. My distant home of Alvi-ar-Tani, though swathed in black sands, is nowhere as hot as this stone cocoon. Not even the force field can shield us from the embrace of the local star! In daylight hours, staying close to the outer walls would be insane - a person would either suffer heat stroke or simply be boiled alive. The surface does I not have the time to cool after darkness I comes, so living here is like being encased in a steam barrel at all times. Throne be praised, the upper city has cooling zones that provide welcome relief! Despite the predatory prices and absolute disdain the locals have shown toward my quickly lightening purse, the glacial gardens remain my favourite place to relax. |
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A tome containing revelations of the Omnissiah, recorded in special binharic dialect. Only a member of the Cult Mechanicus with a key to this cipher may partake of the wisdom of the Machine God. |
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A tome containing warnings of the Omnissiah. This set of unshakeable tenets of the Adeptus Mechanicus is hidden from the eyes of the laymen with a special binharic cipher. Only an anointed Tech-Priest can divine the sacred knowledge from this folio. |
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None |
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"He's waiting for you. You know the place, so be there on time. The turn can be seen from the entrance to the Adeptus - make sure some gawker doesn't see where you're going." |
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"Sector 2. Watch your back. Make sure you're not being followed." |
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A surviving piece of an archeotech mechanism of unknown purpose, discovered among the wreckage of an ancient Imperial vessel on one of the planets in the Cradle of Kherpi. |
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A surviving piece of an archeotech mechanism of unknown purpose, discovered among the wreckage of an ancient Imperial vessel on one of the planets in Odaenathus XI. |
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A surviving piece of an archeotech mechanism of unknown purpose, discovered among the wreckage of an ancient Imperial vessel on one of the planets in Silence of Mer-Segrit. |
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"It's coming! It's coming! It's drawing ever nearer! Heed the word of Aurora! Abandon all your mundane affairs. Ambition is but dust. Desire is but rust upon the metal ofthe soul. The Final Dawn is coming! It will put an end to all worldly vanities!" |
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Viscous Translucent Substance |
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Purified Sample From Oceanic World OM-42-K-003. |
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A glass prism crafted by the cultists of the Final Dawn. It belonged to their leader, Aurora. If you look through it long enough, your vision begins to deceive your mind, showing what could be instead of what is. |
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The letter is soaked with blood. Only a portion of the text is readable through the crimson blotches. "...eful and discreet. Keep away from the aristocrats. You must appear noble to the servants and the guards. Do not engage in conversation with anyone. Your task is to avoid exposing yourself ahead of time and let the Werserians get away, while the guards will be busy guarding the Rogue Trader." |
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The Chtonosâs xenomechanism that devoured its victims' suffering and converted it into energy. |
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"00001111110000101010100100111 N872-04 The final transactions with the Chartist are complete. The Fiery Reckoning is now fully equipp0001111001000 The object has been loaded aboard with its containment intact and placed in the fore bay to ensure maximum contact with the target. Coordinates sent and received by the bridg1001101010 target's estimat0011001 time of arrival in the system010101010 the Fiery Reckoning is crewed by a servitor hiv000111110000 chances of the ship returning are minimal. estimated tim01110111000" |
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A furious male voice is coming from the old vox: "This is Captain Trevor Durhath, calling the Bullion. Get your arses back to the surface and get me out of here, you shits! My guts may be fused to my suit, but I'm not dead yet, no matter how much you wish it were otherwise! " A moment later, the raging tone gives way to strangled rasping, "Hey! Can any of you hear me? Respond! I'll pay double, just don't leave me here... DAMN IT! It was going so well! We even figured out how to open the first sphere thanks to the pattern on the floor! Yeah... Yeah... Who knew there'd be so much trouble with the second one? I didn't. They didn't either... Cowards! The moment that beam was directed back - I was already lying with my guts turned inside out, and they were running off with my goods! Ohhh. Emperor, you *****son, why'd You leave me like that! I'm scared... Oh yes, yes... No, I don't want to die. Not alone! Aren't You supposed to watch over all Your children? Quiet... Quiet, you lot, shut it already! I can't even hear myself! " The recording is silent for a few moments. All you can hear is the sound of someone pounding the shell of a void suit with the recording device. "I'm cold. I wonder if I'll die from lack of oxygen, or will my organs give out earlier? THE DAMNED GOD! THE DAMNED IMPERIUM! IN THE END, YOU WILL ALL SERVE THE TRUE MASTERS!" The human speech gradually deteriorates into an indecipherable mixture of howling and clicking sounds. |
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"Writ of Passage 90XV55L Issued to: Pulchrumus Family Arriving at: Footfall Signed: Harbourmaster Maleficus Acticus" |
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None |
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None |
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None |
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"Kert, I know it's been rough for you since the meeting by the ruins. First contact leaves an impression on everyone. But when I recommended you to the commander, I never thought you wouldn't have the stomach to process the truth. Think what you want, but I'm still your friend. I don't want anything to happen to you because of your own stupidity. I saw your bag with the packs of nutribars that our lads brought from the settlement. And if you thought no one would notice a couple of clips missing from Torban's backpack, you thought wrong. I want to give you a chance. Return the goods. You know every nutribar counts these days - the stuff that grows in the forest is no longer edible. And we're in need of weapons more than ever. I can guess why you need all this. You want to split. Abandon our cause, go back home, and pretend nothing happened. But I'm not writing this to appeal to your conscience. I just want to say that you're a marked man now, Kert. After meeting the higher-ups, cutting and running is the worst thing you can try to do. They are watching those who've seen them. They won't let you leave. Let's talk. Just talk, you and me, in private. Let me know when you're in the camp." |
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"Three hundred and forty-eight years ago, our ancestors arrived on this blooming world, built the cities and the manufactorums, and founded here a society free from heresy and fear. But the Immortal Emperor of Humanity, Warden of Light, saw fit to test our faith - a great war tore open a rift between our ancestors, dividing them into two factions and turning the world into a boundless battlefield. Each day, we fought the enemy, so that our children could see the dawn of a new era - an era without blood, pain, and tears. Brave people, living and dead, paved with their bodies the road to our future. And a one day, the skies answered our prayers - the Great Star Allies descended from the darkness of the cosmos and bestowed upon our great army the Doomsday Weapon. And so we brought righteous anger upon our foes, and ended the centuries-long war, and welcomed the dawn of the new era! The universe will hardly notice our deed, but the God-Emperor sees all. We, children of a great nation, must dedicate ourselves to this sacred mission - to survive and revivify this world, as the most beautiful flowers are revivified from ashes. And hence do not despair, sons and daughters of the Imperium, for our Star. Allies are behind us, and the God of Humanity is with us! I know that help is coming, and soon the skies overhead will shine once more!" |
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Wrinkled, fibrous berries covered in short fuzz. |
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A gold pendant with a silver inscription: "To my darling S. from D." Inside are hand-painted portraits of an elderly man, his wife, and daughter. |
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"From Parsimus Dewain's personal collection." |
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None |
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A rough precious stone lacking a setting. It is always cold to the touch. |
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"Jervas, may the Immortal Emperor guard you with his grace! I have done everything I possibly could. Grab Angette and Jolanta and flee this cursed world as soon as possible! I left the writ of passage and some savings in our secret cache at the Spire of Pride under one of the wanted posters. May the Master of Mankind bless Acticus for his assistance. I still have unfinished business at the department, so we will reunite on Footfall. Your loving brother, Lamprecht von Grotten" |
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"Voidsmen, by the grace of the Emperor you have been given the honour of serving on a Black Ship of the Inquisition. You have been entrusted with a unique cargo - psykers collected from the Imperium's worlds as their rightly owed tithe. Do not be deceived by their appearance - every one of them is a dangerous mutant. Be strict with the passengers, for that is how you safeguard the lives of yourself and your comrades. You must be blind to tears and deaf to pleas. Listen to the passengers' conversations and report any groupings that form among them to the Ship's Confessor. Any groups will be split into different holds to prevent a coordinated revolt. Check for certain that the passengers are eating all of their rations - they contain tranquilisers intended to ensure your and your comrades' safety. Pay attention to any strange occurrences - psyker corruption comes in many forms. Passengers that exhibit extraordinary abilities must be transferred to reinforced cells for solitary confinement. Do not engage in conversation with thee passengers, do not refer to them by name, do not give them your possessions, do not allow them to lose their fear of you. Their fear is the key to your survival. Appear before the Ship's Confessor every month to have the purity of your thoughts checked. Remember that blasphemous psykers can play with the minds of real people. Keep the faith and follow these rules. Failure to observe any of them will be grounds for dismissal." |
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"'Deliverance' as the activation order codeword? Excellent." "43. Sequential joint removal, starting with the fingers. The process resulted in death, as in every previous instance. The body will be reformed and regrown." "59. Internal organs excised and placed into an alkaline solution without severance from the nervous system. The subject is observing its dismemberment and experiencing the pain at its full intensity. The agony strengthens the connection to the veil, but the body is weak and inevitably perishes. "71. The subject's body disintegrates faster with each new assembly. Thermobox introduced into the torso for alternate cooling and heating with constant electrical stimulation. The subject survived for 4 minutes longer compared to the previous resurrection." "75. Physical torture discontinued. Audiovisual headband placed on the subject's head to broadcast images of its suffering kin into its consciousness. Cardiac arrest recorded 19 minutes later." "96. Subject in possession of all previous knowledge including memories of pain and death, and therefore fully compliant. Phenomenal strengthening of the veil connection observed, but the body survives for no longer than three minutes under any set of conditions." |
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This prism-shaped xeno-artefact is made from a black metal that is oddly cold to the touch. The strange device has no visible seams, buttons, or holes. |
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"Esteemed Theodora, A change in circumstances has demanded your immediate assistance in our mutual cause. Forthwith upon receiving this letter and performing the necessary preparations of the crew, you are to depart for the Rykad System. One of my agents, Interrogator Heinrix van Calox, operates there at the present time. Upon your arrival in the system, you will, without delay, make contact with him and offer any assistance required of you, after which you will provide him passage to the Furibundus Systemfioard your ship. On Footfall, the Interrogator will remove himself from your presence to await further instructions. Anticipating any questions you may have, I will stress that the nature of Interrogator van Calox's activities on Rykad Minoris is of no concern to you. If required, van Calox himself will disclose the details of his mission. May the Emperor's light be with you. X. C." |
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"- ...tremendous honour! - Yes, but... this promotion will transfer the entire squad to the Child's personal guard. - By the God-Emperor! Well, you are a strapping lad, you will probably make it for a cycle or three. - It has worn down better men than me. What even is the point if your brains turn into mush? I may rip out my eyes like Amos did. At best, I'll just go bonkers like that little **** stain that kept stealing our Iho... - Oh? What happened to that one? - Threw himself out of a depressurised chamber because some voices told him to. - Calm down. Keeper Felek said the squad will not have to serve the Child for long. He even gave us a little leeway. - Unlike that fish-eyed... - Be quiet! He might hear you. - Well, you know what I mean. He almost busted our heads because someone forgot to check the catering unit. - We haven't let in a single outsider in over ten years, but Keeper Theobald keeps finding things to fret over. Imagine the shrieking if he finds out Keeper Felek didn't make us inspect the hanger after Lord Winterscale's most recent visit. - Throne forbid! I try to steer clear of the squabbles among the highborn. Some of Keeper Felek's orders make little sense, like the last time he commanded that we cut off communications with Rykad Minoris for a while. - Why would he do that? - It looks like he grew tired of the Winterscale scion's visits. - Well, it's always a pleasure to aid Keeper Felek. - That's right. If the highborn have grown tired of each other, let them deal with it..." |
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"I am writing to inform you that two days ago, the discharge was interrupted by a raid launched by the Anvers gang. In the attack, three loader servitors were put out of commission. Furthermore, one cargo container, serial number FVDA1-16165, was stolen along with its contents." |
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The journal entries are written in an angular but surprisingly tidy hand, as if the writer deliberated meticulously over every word. The notes are supplemented by diagrams and formulae. "The Farseer's mind is aggressively resisting external interference. The mind maggot perished instantly upon being introduced into the system, which has never been observed before. Interesting. As punishment, the subject was placed in vibra shackles that chip away at limb bones. (unreadable diagrams) Mind maggot enhanced with a power implant. Subject placed in a red-hot metal capsule during the introduction of the parasite. Despite the pain and the parasite in its system, the subject succeeded in addressing the veil: parasite destruction detected two minutes into its presence in the subject's body. (unreadable diagrams) Mind maggot enhanced with poison that suppresses the host's psychic functions, and placed successfully inside its victim. The parasite's vital functions persist, yet with no sign of compliance on the part of the host. Unacceptable. Subject punished by partial skin removal and suspension by the detached areas of skin. (unreadable diagrams) Experiment finished. Result negative. For as long as the subject remains capable of combatting the mind maggot's presence, pain is the only available method of suppression. Subject to be placed in a capsule with slowly rotating blades until further instructions." |
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Experimental section: the Child's influence on the psycho-emotional state of various representatives of the Imperium Access level: Orsellio-T-prime Experiment H4545-1 Subgroup: Iowborn, male Test subjects exhibit signs of acute stress. The majority perished of blood loss within a day of being placed in the laboratory chamber and to the inability to halt the discharge of ocular secretions (tears) and the body's subsequent replacement of these secretions with the connective tissue of its internal environment. The individuals with the greatest resistance to the sacred Child's resonance died several chrono-turns later: extensive wounds in the abdomen, presumably inflicted by a jagged piece of metal; death was caused by strangulation with the subjects' own intestines. The subjects' final shouts exhibited concerns over abominable tentacles and void worms, hallucinations prescribed to their own internal organs. Experiment H4545-2 Subgroup: lowborn, female The test subjects died within an hour of entering the laboratory adjacent to the Child's chambers. Most had their tongues bitten off or their jaws badly dislocated: some test subjects lacked the physical strength to separate it from the rest of the skull. Cause of death: severe head injuries caused by impacting the walls or the floor. Experiment H4545-3 Subgroup: a paralysed patient who lost the ability to speak due to the shock caused by a manufactorum accident, male The test subject noted a tingling sensation in the deteriorated tissue. During Regent Aaronto Orsellio's visit to the Child, the test subject smiled and started humming (most likely trying to carry some plebeian tune) and then attempted to address the servant who brought him food. A lengthy conversation was prohibitive due to the servant's lack of a tongue. |
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"We need no rules or leaders. We are not an organisation. We are a force of nature. A N V." |
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"May the Emperor's faithful forever remain in the light of His favour. Let me first express my condolences on the tragic death of the most honourable Theodora von Valancius. Nevertheless, I was elated to learn that the Warrant of the Rogue Trader has been passed to a worthy and promising heir. These words are not hollow compliments, but rather the Inquisition's official opinion of your person. As fate would have it, you have taken the reins of the von Valancius dynasty in an hour most dire, when grim portents of dark events to come are surfacing throughout the Koronus Expanse. I have been duty-bound to become the first sentinel who sees the approaching threat, and I hereby alert you that it is indeed coming. Our loyalty and resolve will be tested. People such as you and I will become the pillars that will unite the Emperor's frightened children and inspire them to fight back. And so I greet you as my dependable ally and assure you of my favour. From now on, you have a trusted friend within the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition and a receptive confidant on whom you can rely. Should the dark times ahead require you to make questionable choices, have no doubt that such an incident will be examined in an exceedingly temperate fashion that rules out the most radical forms of judgement. I have faith in the success of our partnership and thank you for your contribution, both past and future. Lord Inquisitor Xavier Calcazar" |
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A set of sacred oils and cogitograms that can appease the keeper of any technology. Provides an additional opportunity to call out a machine spirit and interact with a device. An expendable item. |
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A sacred instrument for manually activating the good machines of the Omnissiah. |
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The carved seal belonging to a senior officer, which serves as a key for the most important weapons stores. |
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"A Harbinger reports: Brother Twilight and his people were unsuccessful. A dangerous enemy, Rogue Trader von Valancius, foiled his plans. The duty is now upon us, Aurora's followers, to succeed where Twilight failed." |
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None |
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Universal lockpicking tool. Provides an additional opportunity to open a lock. An expendable item. |
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None |
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None |
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The crumpled note only has this small fragment of text left: "You are on the right path, Seeker! The other caches..." |
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"The answer is close, Seeker. Remember the word: 'realising'. Remember the place: a tunnel in the shadow of a bridge, a bridge in the shadow of the great statue." |
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"This is the final stretch, Seeker. Remember the second word: 'design.â Remember the place: cogitator, statue of the Founder, Small Temple." |
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"You are on the right path, Seeker. Remember the place: Small Quay, large windows." |
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Grants access to the archives. |
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Grants access to the warehouse. |
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The yellowed pages of this tattered pamphlet give off the sickly sweet smell of rot. "The universe is drenched in foul blood and rampant profligacy. Disgrace, immorality, and lies permeate the air around every world. Agony, suffering, and pain thrive within us. Submit, repent, and accept your fate: to live and die in Vileness and villainy. This omnipresent sickness pierces the void that stretches between suns and worlds. All of existence, however perpetual or unshakeable it may seem, will one day witness its demise and turn to dust. The cities of today will become ruins of tomorrow, the rosy-cheeked maiden will turn into a filthy hag, and the soldier who walks the battlefie or the first time will forever stay there, sinking into the bloody, decaying mass of countless others. But open yourself to the truth: if depravity, filth, and Vileness are eternal and all-encompassing, then they are things worth bowing to. And therein lies out hope. By resigning ourselves to the rotten deformity or existence and embracing all of its profanity, we can be honest and sincere with our nature. We can evade the doom of oblivion and become one with eternity. Having trodden through all of the world's putrescence and recognised its morbid and irremediable wretchedness, we can perceive the soft and curative warmth of the true, most merciful of faiths. And thus, at last, we can discover the path to salvation, into the caring embrace of the Great Unclean One, to his rotting and all-accepting heart, where there is a place for any true believer." |
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"To be an Aristocrat is to exist in a higher state of being, without a doubt. Each of us is born to realise one supreme purpose - to lead Humanity to perfection through our example, perfection which the lesser beings have forgotten in the endless cycle of war and service. Only by attending to their physical, intellectual, and spiritual needs can an Aristocrat fully devote themselves to that for which they were born - creative passions, whether that be the fine arts, the written word, government, or other more refined spheres of worldly knowledge. An Aristocrat's passion is in itself a virtue and the highest good. An Aristocrat must satisfy these needs by any means open to them. Nothing stimulates a weary mind like fine amasec, a good flogging, or enjoyment of carnal pleasures with women, men, and animals. In the thrill of passion, an Aristocrat is at liberty to torture or maim the object of their desire. If the clergy frown upon such an act, repent, atone for the apostasy with jewels, and forgive them their closed minds, for only an Aristocrat is given to understand that such acts are in service of a grand purpose. Should an Aristocrat deliberately curtail their own desires in some way and fail to appreciate the gifts granted them as one of natures higher beings, then in what way do they differ from the dust beneath one's feet, from the mindless beast, or from the crude, deceitful, useless rabble? Such a pretender is an agonising stain on our noble society, and it behoves every True Aristocrat to return our lost brother to the fold or to stamp out his contemptible life as gladly as we might crush a vexatious bug beneath our boot." |
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A good major-domo attempts to nurture only the finest of flowers in the garden that is their master's life. Therefore, new seeds for the garden must be weeded out with the utmost care, so that the garden's trees may yield the sweetest fruit. The lessons below will help you separate the precious seeds from the vile thorns to cultivate the perfect garden for any Lady Navigator. Lesson 1. A faithful servant always makes sure their mistress's rooms and garments are clean. Lesson 2. A faithful servant will never offer their mistress the same dress presented earlier in the cycle. Lesson 3. A faithful servant offers their mistress a glass of fresh water upon waking. Lesson 4. A faithful servant tastes each dish and every drink before serving it to their mistress. Lesson 5. A faithful servant will have mastered the art of styling their mistress's hair. The total time that five servants can spend on arranging their mistress's coiffure should not exceed three revolutions of the chronometer. Lesson 6. A faithful servant lives for their mistress and gladly gives their life for her as well. Lesson 7. A faithful servant... |
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"Groxshit, why me? WHY? I missed my tithe payment twelve years ago.Twelve years! The inspector's writ got lost somewhere in the bowels of the planetary Administratum and was lying there this whole time, but they made sure to remember to tack on the fines every month. By the time they found the blasted paper and finally informed me... the total sum was so obscene it would take three generations of my descendants, if I had any, to pay it off. My fate was sealed: trial, sentence, prison. All because of some daft rotter who shoved my paper in the wrong box! To be fair, I think I got off pretty easy. My bed in the barracks is about as hard as that slab o' rockcrete I've got at home, working in the quarry isn't much tougher than my old job, and the rules... void take me, that old sod that governs Rykad Minoris is a bloody sadist by comparison! It's a strange old place. I haven't been beaten once yet.The guards bark orders all the time, but they never hit us. They also got this kind of inner circle of special 'chosen' prisoners. The Optimatum, they call it. If you can get in, Emperor as my witness, you get an actual day off! They let you out of your cell and into the yard by the big barracks. And, I tell you what, they let you rest there and feed you better than whatever swill they're giving us in the canteen. They told me it's to improve our motivation and all that - to foster a stronger desire to reform and become a worthy servant of the Imperium once more. But I know it for what it is - just a club for the warden's favourites. The same story as everywhere else: suck up to the people in power and get some swanky perks. They say the whole thing was the warden's idea. Funny man, our warden. He looks more noble than nobility itself: tall, groomed, teeth even, eyes burning, boots so polished you can see yourself when you move to lick 'em. But that nutter doesn't much want people licking his boots. He walks around looking like he's deep in thought, all right, with only a couple of guards at his side, and he sometimes - if you can believe it - talks to prisoners. What's your name, he asks 'em all quiet-like. Why were you condemned? Do you feel remorse? He never even yells at no one, never orders to have 'em flogged. Instead, he doles rewards out to the special ones. Keeps telling us things like how we should strive to make society believe in us again. Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Master Warden! Starting tomorrow, I'll be trying to join these 'optimates' of yours. I'm stuck in here till the day I die, and that means no return to society for me - but, with the Emperor's help, I might just join the ranks of the local elite!" |
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"I'm scared. I should've known all that charity from the warden was going to bring nothing but trouble. No noble, no matter how barmy, would pull anything of the sort, but that man... It started with the little things. The warden would come by to talk, as he did. Except he used to ask us questions before, and now he was mostly gushing sermons. Some gibberish about a path to purgation, the sanctity of sacrifice, seeing with blinded eyes... I listened and nodded. Yes, Master Warden. Of course, Master Warden. He could say whatever rubbish he wanted, as long as the tasty optimate meals kept coming. I thought everyone else was doing the same, nodding just to please the big man. I was wrong. After that, people in the barracks started yapping on about purgation and blindness too. Apparently, us optimates were no longer just the warden's favourites, we were - Emperor forgive me - 'prophets' of some kind who were meant to 'save' the rest of this sorry lot. Or awaken them. Or make them see. Some rubbish along those lines. People were now supposed to make sacrifices to optimates. Yesterday, the sap who slept in the bed under me in my first year here cut off his own damn ear and crawled on his knees toward me. He handed me the ear and begged me not to forsake him when the fateful hour came. What in the Throne am I supposed to do with an ear? Why is everyone - every single one! - staring at me all the time? The warden said the time was nigh, that fate had truly great things in store for the optimates. I went to look how my good friend Clensin was doing. He hadn't spoken for three months ever since I had all his top teeth ripped out. He spoke today. He looked straight at me and said, 'Dead man.' I kept hitting him until it hurt. Until it hurt me. Now my fist and feet are bruised to all the hells. Half the barracks stood there and watched. And prayed. I'm scared..." |
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"Ha ha ha, I swear, the Emperor hasn't forsaken me! Guess who just came down the shuttle gangway among the fresh batch of prisoners? CLENSIN-Throne- damned-WILLIA! Former Administratum clerk. No - THE clerk. The very same scum who lost the writ about the missing payment. He's the reason I'm in this hole. Don't know what they threw him in for, but I've never felt better in my life. He's not just behind the same bars as me, he's fresh meat, and I'm a venerable optimate respected by everyone the colony. The warden just came up with a new improvement: from now on, anyone who underperforms, misbehaves, or causes trouble any other way is to be punished by the 'community.â Specifically, by the local best and brightest. Yours truly, the optimates! The last two sods who failed to meet the quota were stripped naked, whipped, and thrown into cages in the big barracks. That's where they have to eat, sleep, and **** now with everyone watching. I thought to myself then: that isn't right, they've taken these punishments too far. But now... Just you wait, you piece of groxshit. I'll get you for something. Those cages are calling your name..." |
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Damaged vox with a log of the rebels' conversations. |
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*** More and more servants are being influenced by the Immaterium, and it has nothing to do with the Child's more frequent tantrums. We've discovered that the corrupted flesh of the mutated reacts most unusually to the crystals we purchased from the Winterscale dynasty. I strongly recommend finely grinding the reagent to catalyse the reaction. Do not use acid under any circumstances! Trust me, you will not like having to tend to the burns for the next dozen turns in a row. This calls for something more... basic. Oh, and one more thing. The Tech-Priests blessed the data-crypt H-41-OK for the calculated number of chrono-turns, which means it is no longer necessary to remain near the device while waiting for the reaction to start. *** The data-crypt H-40-KO malfunctioned over the course of our research. I should remind the technomats to deliver this sacred mechanism into Magos Dioctius's capable hands. *** |
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*** Keeper Theobald graciously agreed to provide samples of his skin growths so we could study the influence of the rebellious Immaterium on the flesh of the Navis Nobilite. Just as we thought, Navigators are positively resistant to the restless currents of the warp... The God-Emperor truly does shield some people against corruption and misery. But let us get back to the study of mortal flesh. Another servant will be carried in shortly, I must ready the organ extraction equipment. *** Adamantium dust and black water! This was the worst idea that could have entered my mind! God-Emperor be praised, I am lucky to still have my head on my shoulders after this reckless experiment. Nevertheless, we did make an important discovery - the adamantium seems to protect the frail flesh of the lowborn to a degree. Having said that, not even the macerator can handle its temper, so we should probably introduce a more complex compound into the formula. All of the data related to the experiment were recorded to data-crypt K-O4-OH. I will get back to them later, once I am done with experiment H-41-OK. *** Have I mentioned that the chunk of meteorite found by Keeper Felek's subjects is completely useless? Although... its shining granules could be used to make new paints for the Child. Yes... I think I'm going to do exactly that. |
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The thick stack of pages made of a strange material has been hastily tied with a coarse piece of string. The pages are covered in sharp, uneven handwriting and have brown stains on them. "Goal: severalfold increase in veil energy. Note: Enhancing the veil connection will require merging the minds of four specimens. Note: Four individuals, two male and two female, selected from among Crudarach Farseers. Aside from their veil connection, the specimens have no common traits (merging process expected to be fascinatingly painful!) Stage 1 Hearts of three Aeldari placed inside the thorax of the fourth, the most resilient among them. Redundant original heart removed. Other internal organs preserved. Specimens conscious throughout the surgeries. Stage 2 Despite the blockers, the partial brain transplants were accompanied by several energy discharges, resulting in equipment damage (the potential is amazing!) The integrated subject was punished by an intramuscular injection of an acidic solution that erodes soft tissue from the inside. Stage 3 Subject stable and controllable. Undergoing significant physical and psycho-emotional distress as the Aeldari minds are becoming aware of the situation. The energy discharges increase every time the blockers are eased or pain receptors are directly stimulated - confirming the expected result! In order to intensify the pain experienced, the subject will be nourished by essences of its own torture. Stage 4 The Aeldari consciousnesses are trying to consume one another, perhaps in order to lower the net pain awareness. Curious. The subject must continue to be saturated with its autogenic agony, with added psycho-tranquiliser injections. Note: enhance the subject's physical suffering with internal bone tissue disintegration." After that, the notes become indecipherable. |
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This thin pamphlet exudes a faint caustic smell, likely that of fresh inscriber ink. "Our being is steeped in degradation, and no longer can we imagine existing outside it. Are you capable of perceiving the depths to which this heinous miasma has rooted itself in our lives? Pompous aristocrats indulge in despicable revelries behind their tall palace walls and planetary masters vie to possess the greatest luxuries while you and your family choke on your corpse starch slop after a gruelling work shift. Millions of soldiers die in the dirt to combat xenoprofanity while their commanders, their duties forgotten, squabble among themselves, seeing every death as nothing more than a stone in the monument of their own glory. Scholars pursue forbidden and mind- twisting knowledge, the righteous break their oaths and spread lies, Arbites thieve worse than any criminal would, and you are sullied by vicious degeneracy of which you are not even aware. This pernicious rot is all-pervading, for there is none who has not succumbed to it. Does it frighten you to be in their midst? In our midst? Will you carry on calmly living in this impious loathsomeness, hiding your gaze from the world and hiding the world from your gaze? Will you become like a mindless servitor, or will you honestly realise the sheer baseness and repulsiveness of creation? And then you will renounce your former life. And you will accept your new self. And relinquish your worldly affairs! And follow the road that was paved for us by Saint Drusus, Warrior and Conqueror of Sectors Uncharted! And leave behind the sacrilege-ridden world, and, as is our Immortal Emperor's will, join our sacred crusade to walk the path that leads out of the murk of apostasy and irreverence and into the darkness of the unknown and unfathomed! It is in this darkness that we will light the candles of true faith, for only in their fires can we still find motes of light." |
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A crumpled sheet of paper with a drawing of a tall woman and a dark-eyed monster... Painted with fresh blood. |
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Key cards like this are issued to soldiers who are posted in compartments with heightened security. |
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The ship's log is encrypted, but the last entry was written in Gothic: "I, Inquisitor Yutan Holl, captain of the Black Ship Monarchia's Bane, write this record for the eyes of any faithful servant of the Emperor who may chance to read it. My vessel dutifully departed Terra to collect the Imperium's rightful tithes from its loyal worlds and then to return to the Segmentum Solar with thousands of psykers in our holds. Our mission was proceeding smoothly, but shortly after our warp jump, the Incident occurred. The Main Confinement Cell was the source of the insurrection. It was the holding site for an especially dangerous passenger who possessed high psychic potential and was known to incite disobedience in others. I do not know how he was able to free himself or how he summoned the forces of Chaos to abet him. His psychic outburst spread rapidly across the entire vessel, sending other passengers into a frenzy and causing them to attack my acolytes. I have given the order for the passenger holds to be purged and activated the automatic intruder elimination systems, but I have no doubt that this measure will be unsuccessful. Not wishing to surrender the Monarchia's Bane into the hands of these deranged mutants, I have set course to orbit a nearby planet at a slight deviation. Sooner or later, the deviation will result in the ship drifting out of orbit and crashing to the planet's surface. Keep the faith, and exterminate any mercy in your soul." |
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None |
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"1. The holy book by the altar. 2. That void-damn customs guy (he is always on duty! Does he get any time off? Does he ever leave for a piss? Is he a servitor or something?) 3. Guess-What 4. Hangar by the window. Remember to bow to the Emperor through the window!" |
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"[Data deleted] ... [Data deleted] ... [Entry damaged] ...gue Trader like a lackey. It is humiliating and dispiriting to put up with the part of an errand servant to an imperious madman vested with even greater power than that of any Rogue Trader. Alas, when one side of the scales holds my pride and the other the fate of the von Valancius protectorate and my entire bloodline... choice becomes a futile illusion. It would be far too naive of me not to prepare for the worst. Epitaph will decide the future of the Expanse as a whole, but I ave some time at my disposal until then. Heirs with the von Valancius blood in them will soon be located and brought to me. I cannot afford to delay the choice of successor any longer." |
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"...his chagrin is irrelevant. Voigtvir's mistake cost me too much. Years of work, tremendous resources, all wasted. He has failed at what he was supposed to be irreproachable at - uncovering spies, and this one was a senior officer. I am not about to discard him - Kunrad has served me for too long for his removal to go painlessly for the protectorate. Besides, he is no fool. He could not have seriously expected to become the next in the von Valancius line when his skills and talents as Master of Whispers are so valuable. Let his disinheritance serve as a humiliating but instructive lesson from which he may yet learn..." |
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Foul-Smelling Hissing Liquid |
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A thick diary filled with entries written in neat, precise handwriting. Its author was documenting the events of his life with thoroughness bordering on obsession. |
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"I'm tired. How long has it been since Doomsday? I think it was the thirty-sixth year when the heretical cholera wiped out half of our people, including the old bookkeeper, Heilgar. Time has stood still for us since. It was so long ago... and what a convenient solution to the overpopulation problem, hah! The commanders think we bought this âcoincidence.' Morons. Still, when I look in the mirror, I see my father - the same wrinkles by the eyes, grey temples. Which means that I'm over sixty. And we've been underground for longer than half a century. No sky, no sun, no joy. And no hope. If that damned propagandist scribe tells me one more time that I 'must not lose faith' - I will make him eat his own tongue! Sure, we were once so certain that we had won - the weapon of the Great Ally boggled the mind. I still remember how the skies shook, before me and my ma and father were evacuated to this wretched bunker. But Where has it led us? When I took over my father at the comm station, I learned that we had long since lost all communication with other PDF bases. And the stars respond to our calls with silence. These days we don't hear any bombs landing outside, but things are still restless in the old bunker - first a water purifier failure, then a fire in the medicae unit. Rats chewed holes in the exposure suits, and now we can't go up to the surface anymore. Are these accidents? Or have we had a saboteur in our midst all these years? I'll keep an eye on the troops. I don't believe in miracles, but... we still have enough supplies on the lower levels to last us another fifty years or so. If Yuald can finally sort the air duct problem, that is! Next time we meet, I should ask how the repairs are going." |
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"My most precious Victa! Sister Bregenda from the Orders Famulous whom you introduced to us is a real sweetheart! You must have noticed how many new guests started showing up at our soirees after that darling stayed at our estate. Jeoffroi is extremely fond of Bregenda, too - our heir has finally started showing an interest in something other than the exact sciences and has taken a liking to theology! May the Emperor bless your insightful wisdom. P.S. Come visit us today after the eighth klaxon, my husband will be at the club with his friends. Forever yours, I.L." |
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"After the last shift consolidation, they transferred me to the Pariah barracks. And everything they say about these freaks is true. I don't know if they're raised this way or if they really don't have a soul, but just being near them makes me feel sick to my stomach. Cold, unfeeling, empty creatures pretending to be human. They beat and execute the passengers like it's nothing. A normal person is disgusted at the thought of smashing a person's skull... well, either that, or they like it. But not them - they don't care one bit. If was up to me, I'd toss them in the hold with the rest of the mutants, but... the psyker tricks don't work on them at all. Very handy when you're travelling on a ship stuffed full of enraged psykers. I had to move one of psykers from the communal hold to separate quarters. That traitorous piece of **** was encouraging the others to revolt, and our esteemed Ship's Confessor ordered us to give him a good hiding. We beat him for two hours or so, and by the end my damned cough had got so bad it was unbearable. I'm worried I'll be called in to see the chirurgeon. If command find out about the crap in my lungs, they'll toss me straight out of the airlock. My only hope is new augmetic, though the guy who fitted it on Flacia Prima was strange. He gave me the creeps, and so did all his machinery. No doubt it was all illegal under the Imperium's laws. But I didn't have a choice - a wretched bilge rat of a voidsman would never rise high enough to have his aches and pains treated by someone from the Adeptus Mechanicus. I'm just going to hope that this thing clears up on its own." |
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"Entry C. It's been a hundred cycles, and these idiots are still none the wiser about who they saved from the storm. Going back to my camp is no longer an option - damned rats chewed through the protective suit, and these pissants are out of repair materials. Entry CIV. There are some decent people here. Just civilians, like my mother. This one girl, Zimmy, even made a habit of coming by in the after hours. She asked me to teach her the letters - so she can write to her father who went to the surface two turns ago. Foolish child. The war has taken its toll on both sides. Hold on, am I sympathising with the enemy? I better put a stop to this. Entry CX. I was finally allowed entry to the upper levels, and, lo and behold, what did I find there? The same supply crates as those gifted to our lords by the Star Allies! The same rations as we've been eating, the same weapons as we've been fighting with! So our lives have simply been toyed with... ??? If Winterscale has betrayed us, I must report this to the command. No matter the cost. ??? I got my hands on a cutter and decommissioned a few blocks of explosives. No one noticed a thing. ??? I bribed the archivist with a dozen rations - now I just need to get the schematics for the life support systems. ??? Rats brought disease from the surface, the medicae unit is packed. Just the right time for a quick short circuit. ??? Zimmy drank the poisoned water and vomited a lot of blood. The schematics were inaccurate. But now I know for certain which pipes go to the living module and which to the barracks. ??? The senior comm officer suspects something. ??? It's time." |
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A mysterious tool required to open a Webway Gate. |
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