See, I was a convention in France (Yup, I'm french, get used to it, and to my constant grammar mistake for which I apologize in advance) called the «Utopiales», and sometimes there are some peeps gming quick games there. That is where Ishmael Liskraft was born.
He was a pre-made character, and pretty much what you'd expect from a hive-worlder scum with 600 xp: Paranoïd trigger-happy bag of lies. I played him as a comissar wannabe with the stiffest upper lip you'd ever seen, and when confronted about anything he'd say «you'd don't know what I've been through, I've been done ARMAGEDDON! And I'd still be over there fighting if the Emperor didn't need me here.»
A nice guy, all in all.
Our team was him, Xandra (a sexy Imperial Assassin) and Mir (A sexy feral worlder guardsman).
Anyway the GM has us wake up in our chambers on the «Altum Videtur» (Yes, that name sounded better and smarter in his head), our Inquisitor's ship. The bosun calls us, we go, we bow, he explains.

«Ice planet no longer sends Prometheum and doesn't answer astropathic calls. It's been two years. You go down, meet Lord Comissar Sorcha who is in charge and see what's up»

We were making history: an administratum problem was being taken care of after only two years of dysfunctionnement.

Now, let's take a first pause. See, at that point, I wasn't new to warhammer, but I sure as hell was new to DH, so I had no idea what I could ask our boss in terms of stuff. The DM expected us to know everything about stuff like micro-beads when our knowledge of 40k was «Technology is a long forgot dream bro», and that would have saved us a lot of time, and he didn't think for one second that would have been something that our Inquisitor kinda gives us, because, you know, we kinda need it for our mission and apparently he already likes us since he takes the tme to meet us personall, but let's not get carried away.

We eat at the cantina (there was some trouble there but I'll tell that story later if you're interested), then the armory, then the dropships, and off we go.

After our landing in the middle of nowhere, a chimera comes to see us, imperial guardsmen in cadian uniform with snow cammo led by a blonde comissar (who happended to be the Lord comissar Sorcha we were looking for) with a face too pretty for the job.
The NPC hadn't even spoke a word and the party had already six ideas on how to kill her.
Anyway, we explain why we're here and she goes «Oh the prometheum? Yeaaaaaaah riiiiiiiight, thaaaaaat, well of couuuuuuuuurse!»
Nothing suspicious here, nope, not at all.
She then brings us to the base.
I'd say it was in poor conditions, but I'd get blammed for critisizing fine Imperial management.
Anyway, she leaves us at the base, apparently having some stuff to do with an officer, so we're left to sniff around the camp.
We try to do so without rising any suspicions and actually seem to succeed, the guardsmen seem to be tired of rotting in this snow-covered hellhole. There was a squad whipping a guy in public on the side of the camp, apparently he had stole some rations, so we spat on him and left, again to avoid bringing too much attention.

Then comes the time of our meeting with Sorcha, the comissar I mentioned earlier, we get to her buiding and enter and-

«CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR»

interest acquired, bump.

In a panic, the guardsman, used to beying, closes the door behind us. The voice actually came from a servitor who was managing the queue for requests.
I'll pass on the section where we try not to die out of frustration because the servitor was broken and could only manage to say «CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!», «GET IN LINE» and «THIS REQUEST IS MOMENTARILLY UNAVAILABLE».
The comissar finally bothers to come out of her office, and receives us.
Now, what an odffice. Full of hunting trophies, and a signed picture of Comissar Yarrick (Ishmael squees).
So she offers Amasec and tells us to get comfortable.
According to her, the Astropath tower was blown up by the locals, and they can't send prometheum because they can't answer calls, but a repair party goes every weak to slowly repair the tower, and she says we can go with them this afternoon if our lordship so desire.
Keeping our wits about us, we avoid mentioning that it's been two whole fucking years since the last shipment was sent and that she's probably shitting us right now.
Anyway at this point there was an alarm, a locals attack.
Naturally, the party grabs their hunting rifles and gets up a building, and we start sniping the locals who try to tear of the grillaging around the camp, making sure to only kneecap them so we can interrogate them later.

When the flow of savages dies down (they were no match for the imperial guard!) we wait for a plow chimera to plow them away and follow it discretely. We notice that a whole lot of them sport guardsmen weapon. Then, one we kneeaped seems still alive, so we exctract him from the pile. He didn't see to be able to speak low gothic, though he could understand it, but the feral worlder on our team found that his own dialect was close to the local's tongue, so we could interrogate them. Basically, we learned everything that we already knew: the locals although they were voldemort-like abhumans were not heretics, they had guardsmen amongst them and Sorcha was evil.
But for now, we couldn't do anything about it. Judging he was better alive than dead, we fixed his knee and let him go.

It was time for the repair party. We knew that because a brown haired greenhorn (he must have been 17) officer called Lyrok Gunderson came for us and suddenly started to have an uninteresting backstory leading us to suppose he was going to die in a cutscene.

So, the astropath tower as not damaged, it was utterly destroyed. There was no way the savages, with only the odd lasgun, could have done that. Of course some of them were inside trying to kill us but we were the fuck-mothering inquisition and we subdued them quite easyly with the power of using grenades and shotguns against knives and lascarbines. One was left alive and interrogated, he told us that they definitely were NOT the ones who destroyed the tower and the- BLAM bolter round to the face.
Welp, thank you Sorcha, at least NOW we have a legit reason to legally kill you, thank the Emperor for having guardsmen that love you around.
Yes, 'cuz the guardsmen were truely loyal to her, even though charm checks and loh-sticks helped us making buddies with them.

Anyway, night falls, everyone's asleep, except Ishmael because it was his turn keeping watch (the guardsmen had shown great lazyness though we didn't wanted to point it out to them, because twenty to three against people with actual weapons is not enticing, so we were the ones keeping watch) and he notices that there's noise coming from the basement.

Oh hey, Lyrok getting beat up by his fellow guardsmen. Didn't expect him to see him there. Nope. Not one bit. Also how come they culd have smuggled him here between our turns taking watch on, like, twenty people in the same room? I have no idea. Anyway. We bullshit the guard saying «Guys, he's a cocksucker who raised in ranks because he's a noble? I feel ya, I was a guardsman too (lie) and I tell ya those nobles are shit, but now I'm an Inquisitor, we're gonna torture him SOOOOO good he ain't gonna even talk anymore. Best part? It leaves no traces. Go on, trust, the inquisition.»
They do trust us, and go away, but Lyrok was too badly beaten be any use. We freed him and gave him a proper blanket. Ishy went back to keep watch, Mir and Xandra stayed close to him.

But hey he managed to disapear in the morning even though there was two people keeping watch over him because the GM kept using cinematics.

But hey guess what he managed to disapear in the morning even though there was two people keeping atch over him because the GM kept using cinematics.

So we look for him, and Ishy asks Sorcha about him, and tries to play smart.

«I know for you and him.»

Next thing I know we're in a chimera APC along with a peaten up and naked Lyrok speeding along with a broken servitor towards certain doom, sealed tight inside.
The crafty underhiver doesn't let himself being killed so easyly, so we search the APC for stuff and find energy cells and backpacks with basic survival stuff.
The plan seemed clear, we overcharged an energy cell and blocked the explosion with a pile of backpacks because fuck physics, then Ishy throws another overcharged cell like grenade through the chimera's openings on the front and kills the servitor in it, slowing down the metal beast to a speed where it was reasonable to jump off, right before it falls down a big ass chasm. So now we're a hive cum, an imperial assassin, a savage guardsman and a naked noble-born diphit lost in the middle of nowhere, with survival rations. Three days walking in the freezing cold at random and then we see people using IG cant with flashing lights in the distance to tell us that we'll be saved and taken care of if we followed it, and since we didn't have much of a choice we followed.

>>44603246
Cinematics?

>>44603266
Moments where we knew what wa happening but had no say about what was going on, even though our PCs were here. OH WAIT, just realised the word for that is cutscenes, my bad.

There we meet a bunch of traitor guardsmen who sided with the locals and apparetly had babies with them.
A whole lot of Heresy if you ask me, but we were in no position to go wavinbg our guns in every direction.
There we meet with the leader and explain why we are here.
He goes on about how humanity is vain and how social darwinism is bad and the imperium were assholes and that hahaha no so mean about making us slaves now that you need us huh? Anyway they agree to help in exchange of the promise that when the imperium comes back we don't make them slaves. (Spoilers: it was a lie)
We also meet with the traitor guardsmen, who reveal that

>>44603283
The word would be railroading actually.

Wait fooor it

SORCHA WAS SLAANESHI CULTIST ALL ALONG
NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK

So anyway, we also find the Astropath from the base (which I confess we didn't have the time nor the idea to ask about) and he was holding an astro anthenae. So we go «hey we might get air support with that!».
The astropath held out a waiting hand and says «My gift, in return of your Faith»
Whole party's response: «Wat»
But Ishy takes his hand, and goes «My Faith, in return of your gift.»
So in case you guys didn't know, Astropaths use fate points from Pcs to power themselves up.
Anyway we call minos, he says «yall did good son, I'm sending you stuff via drop pods»

And on the little Ice planet of Germella IV, it was christmas, our gift being three drop pods, two containing one land speeder each, the third containing sniper rifles, chainswords and boltguns.

>>44603298
Oh, right, thanks.

One lock and load montage later, we were in full Inquisition-issue flak armor with boltguns and chainswords (because our GM forgot the part were we didn't have the talents for those) and definitely heretical bubonic grndes. My Ishmael also found his little favorites: glove-mounted hand-canons.
Ishy then turns to the platoon of gathered guardsmen and locals who wanted to come with them, shouting:
«MEN OF GERMELLA! Today the ennemy is at our door, this is your fucking planet, and Slaaneshi scum has been living the life on it while you work your ass off in mines! But this ends TODAY! Today, you reclaim your planet! Today, you serve the Emperor! Today, you save not just your homes, but yourselves! Let us give them HELL!»

Again, fantastic Fel roll,they run to the Valkyries, we leave them the land speeders (we didn't know shit about piloting one of those) and took each one different valkyrie, taking potshots at the heretic scum withour sniper rifles. Eventually, the cultists got their shit together and sent out THREE FUCK-MOTHERING LEMAN RUSSES and shot down Ishyy's Valkyrie, who managed to stay alive with the use of a fate point on his agility roll, jumping out of a flaming aircraft with only his guts and a grav-chute. Ishy, figuring out that our DM had no idea that, you know, our aircrafts had lascanons and high velocity, so they should have been more than enough for fighting leman-russes with regular Leman-russes canons, decides in a cuning moment of hollywood tactics to have all guardsmen land and attack the ennemy on foot, while us three each took one leman russ.

Our tactic was simple: crawl in snow, move up to the leman-russ, launch bubonic graned, see the metal melt, wait for the gunner to shoot, watch the tank blow up as the shell explodes in the canon. It went Just. As. Planned.

Then we meet at the center of the base and start murdering cultists left and right with bolt rounds until we hear the mad laugh of commander Sorcha dual wielding power swords, and now having turned part daemonette.

And so began our final fight.

It was tough, the guardsmen, now seeing their commander for what she truely was, laid their weapons down and fleed, the phantom guard (yes, that's how the loyalists called themselves) chasing them as a pretext to be far from the fight, we were all three, alone, fighting a daemonette.

First turn, Ishy, as a righteous hiver, opens fire first with his bolter, but somehow she dodges (the DM didn't roll) and manages to run the fifteen meter separating us and swift attack the assassin (yes) to only 6 damages, to then see herself punished by the fury of his inquisiton. My blows didn't connect, but my friend's sur as hell did, inflicting some damage, but the bitch was still standing, and guess who was her target? Yours truly.

Her two swift attacks brought the puny Ishmael to 0 hp like it was nobody's business. Down on the ground, he opened fire with his hand canons, blowing off chunks of her carapace but without hurting him. The newt attak had him lose one level of fatigue, but that's when he remembered he had quick-draw and bolt pistols. Opening fire at point blank in a burst, four bolts connected.
Among those, two made righteous furies. And it didn't stop there.
I still have the damage total engrained in my brain.
Seventy three points of explosive damage.
All that was left was her head, and everything below her belt.

That fell upon me with a dull sound, and as the inquisitorial dropship arrived, I fainted, a smile on my face.

I learned the next day that was now officially and Interrogator.Her two swift attacks brought the puny Ishmael to 0 hp like it was nobody's business. Down on the ground, he opened fire with his hand canons, blowing off chunks of her carapace but without hurting him. The newt attak had him lose one level of fatigue, but that's when he remembered he had quick-draw and bolt pistols. Opening fire at point blank in a burst, four bolts connected.
Among those, two made righteous furies. And it didn't stop there.
I still have the damage total engrained in my brain.
Seventy three points of explosive damage.
All that was left was her head, and everything below her belt.

That fell upon me with a dull sound, and as the inquisitorial dropship arrived, I fainted, a smile on my face.

Ishmael Liskraft, formerly underhive scum learned the next day that he was now officially an Interrogator.

I've been playing Ishmael ever since, as a scum and as an Inquisitor in roleplay with one of the gentlemen who might read this (Lady Admiral if you're here, you're a fucking useless drunkard aristocrat) . I kinda like him, he's been through countless shenanigans, that I'll tell if you want. Or you might want to share your own Inquisitors' stories, if so go ahead.