The trip to Footfall was uneventful, apart from a run-in with an Ork ship (exploded) and an Eldar Frigate (was told to frack-off by our latest addition to the crew. Good to know those twiggy Eldar are good for something except prancing).
Once there, we had to sort out a little misunderstanding about ship-repair fees with a Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy that somehow seemed to be running invoice-collection for Administratum Oeconomica Imperialis. Once settled, it was time to learn about this auction the unreliable Psyker at Yellow 45 told us about.
This proved no problem for the resourceful crew of the Cleopatra, and we quickly secured invitations to attend the auction as well as a celebratory soiree for the attendees of said auction, thrown by the Liege of Footfall, no less.
This turned out to be a merry affair, enjoyed by all.
Kaptin Thar’gul Da Devastata enjoyed all the bizarre food, including giant live death-crabs, promethium soup and warp eels. Especially the Warp eels! They were the bees knees! This brought him some fame and glory, as well as some interesting and permanent side-effects.
Out new Preacher didn’t take well to the food, but did seem to find an audience for his motivating hymns and poems.
Lord Captain Stiehr took advantage of the good show put up by his “pets” and crew, and made all snugly with Lady Sun Lee, while really trying to get friendly with Admiral Bastille.
Also present, and not terribly friendly after we bested him with the whole Rose-endeavour was Haderak Fel, but we managed to not cause any scenes.
It seems the whole Auction thing is about getting seats for a foretelling from the Seven Witches of Footfall. I guess that’s what passes for entertainment out here, and it’s all very exclusive with only 10 seats going to the highest bidders. Good thing we have a special book!
And wouldn’t you know it, we got ourselves that seat!
So those witches now own the third moon of Luggnum, a Moon Palace and a wierd book, as well as other useless things. They didn’t want gazillions of Thrones or ancient relics, but Assassins Guilds and blind slaves seemed just their things.
Now we just need to fix up our ship after that little run-in with the Eldar, and we’re ready to attend the Foretelling.
Oh, and apparently there are tricksy Eldar running about spying on everybody. Or so sayeth the prancing Eldar we’ve picked up as our own.