- Grit - Increase Strain threshold by 1
- Second Wind - Once per encounter, as an incidental, recover 1 strain
- Desperate Recovery - If character's strain is more than half the threshold after an encounter, recover +2 strain.
- Warp Conduit - may “Push” up to four times instead of three
- Corpus Conversion - When making a psychic check, may suffer 2 wounds to add or
- Psy Focus - adds boost to Psychic checks. A Gyrinx-fur glove.
- 1 vial of Slaught - upgrade all Agility and Cunning based checks twice for the rest of the encounter; after the encounter, suffer 4 strain and add to all Agility and Cunning based checks for the rest of the day.
- Recaf - a mild stimulant with a pleasing taste. Consume to recover 2 strain; the benefits of recaf can only be gained once per 24 hours.
Into the Rift
Stärke Seelerich crouches in the darkened alley, listening intently. An elevated train rattles in a cross-track overhead, with sirens blaring in the distance in this war-torn city. Faint gunfire, thunder in the distance, and the noise of traffic almost covers the sound of a boot scuff - above, to the right.
He looks up. The sky itself is dark, stars filtered out by the city lights and the smothering blanket of smog. Blinking lights flow in criss-crossing patterns overhead, hovercars in their designated elevations, constant police patrols adding streaks of blue and red.
Stärke inhales as deeply as he can, ash and smoke complicating the task. He clenches his gloved fist, focuses, and then relaxes his breath, his lungs, his hand. The Warp twists, the fur of the glove ripples, swirls, coalesces into patterns that make sense only to him.
He has to rush the process, the sense of imminent danger is strong. She must be close. Images flicker in his mind. A feline on the roof. But it arches it's back - it senses danger, too. Death is coming.
A shape forms, a Razorback with the symbols of the Imperium. It's rolling in from the East. The fur ripples to the West. Movement - a lot of movement. Armed troops. He sees a symbol - the fleur-de-lis of the Adepta Sororitas. A heavy breeze flows from the South. Dense, acrid air, and in his mind he can see a wall of flame that has been conjured, hemming him in.
This makes no sense. Why this show of force? Why hunt down one man who tried to defend his family? He looks at his glove. Yes, he killed her gyrinx, but the crazy thing had jumped on his face… And he had released an unknown Power from within.
As he turns to the safety of the North, another scuff. Not the feline. She must be there, waiting. He extends his mind farther, Pushing against the Warp, forcing his will. 12 meters away, 8 degrees northwest, a cloaked figure cautiously creeps between broken buildings, nearly at the alleyway. Stärke's eyes snap up, away from his glove, which now stretches out towards the stalker.
He Pushes hard, feeling his strength draining, but this is his only chance. He directs Misfortune at the target, then draws from his soul to Paralyze her mind. He hears a crash, and he sprints runs South, towards the growing flame wall and certain death.
He Pushes again, his stamina depleting quickly. It feels wrong somehow, the Warp twists and lashes out against him, but he has no choice. Augment. Haste. Swift.
He hears heavy footsteps behind him - the Paralysis didn't last long enough. The grinding treads of the Razorback angle in on him from one side, and the synchronized clatter of the military troops intercepting him from the other. Push. All the strength remaining. His skin ripples, hardening. The Warp twists wildly in his mind, lashing out uncontrollably. He hears screams.
Some of those screams are his own as he jumps through the flames, not quite over - his biomantically-augmented body is not immune to pain. The world twists. His vision is foggy, his mind is unclear. Stärke falls to his hands and knees on an open street, exhausted.
A floodlight shines on him, and over the loudspeaker he hears, “Surrender to the Ordo Hereticus, and you shall be spared.” A Valkyrie hovers above him, turrets aimed downward.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a strange light, shimmering in an adjacent alley. A portal? Had his powers done something new? He slowly puts his hands in the air and stands, then sprints sideways, leaping at the portal. Lasfire blasts the duracrete just behind him but the turret can't track him quickly enough. Better death than capture…
His body hits the circle of light; the walls next to it crumble down as the Valkyrie unleashes its arsenal on the street.
As the dust settles, a massive dark figure steps into the Valkyrie's floodlight. A broad-rimmed hat keeps her face in shadow. “This isn't the end. The renegade psyker has chosen - he must die.”