The War of the Shadow IC

[Riddick]

The War of the Shadow

Hive Sibellus – The Tricorn

http://drkronner.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/cathedral-city.jpg

Looming over the hive nearby, the Tricorn jutted from the ground – menacing and proud. Some of you may have travelled here together and some of you have come alone. Regardless, the sight could still stir any acolyte.

Each of you has worked for Inquisitor Wroth for a long time and have earned the right to stride up to the Tricorn gates and announce yourself as an acolyte of Wroth. Of course, no one gets in without prior clearance and word was given earlier that day for the storm troopers to expect your cell among other people.

It’s late in the day and clouds have gathered overhead as you enter the Tricorn itself. Inside is a controlled frenzy of activity. Agents and adeptus move to and fro on important, Inquisitorial business. After checking in yet again at the front, a wary looking man glances you over and leads you back to a conference room to await Inquisitor Wroth. Two storm troopers see you there and wait on the door outside as a precaution. It doesn't take much to realize that an aspect of the precaution they guard against is your cell.

There is no trust in here, nor should there be. Leagues under your feet lay a trove of the most dangerous objects and scripts the sector has seen. And below them, the cells of the heretics that would use such profane objects. Both securely locked away, there is no measure of security beyond reproach.

The conference room hosts a holo-projector at the head of a fine, oak table. The table, oval in shape, is lined with more than enough chairs. The fineries of this establishment could almost belie the gravity of the matters addressed in these walls. Heretics, xenos, and even daemons are the subjects of the Inquisitors. The sector relied on their efforts and by extension, they rely on yours.

[Maugan Ra]

Fenria sits in the chair nearest the door, having sat straight down in the first available position upon entry. Her posture conveys the years of military discipline that have made up her life - even here, at the centre of the Inquisition's power in Calixis, she holds an air of wary attention. Or perhaps it is the setting itself that inspires that in her. The Tricorn is somewhat notorious, after all.

In deference to her station as an experienced operative, and likely as a matter of standard policy, she retains her weaponry, albeit disabled. The power cord linking the Hellgun to it's ammunition capacitor on her back has been uncoupled, the battery has been removed from the chainsword and the grenades have been stowed away in the bottom of her pack. The veteran soldier is far from harmless, of course, and entirely capable of being re-equipped inside of ten seconds, but it is a matter of principle.

Her helmet is belted to her waist, revealing her blond hair and tanned features, and she idly thumbs through a somewhat battered data-slate as she waits for the briefing to begin.

[LCP]

The door clicked softly as a tech-priest entered the room. Tall, rather gangly, he was clothed in a dark red robe, worn and faded until half the pigment seemed to have gone; nonetheless, it had been kept scrupulously clean. A pair of complex-looking mechadendrites hung dormant over his shoulders, while his face was hidden behind the black mask a high-tech rebreather. The tube of its air-supply ran back to a small tank of compressed air nestled between the auxiliary limbs on his back; on the other side of the mask, a small valve allowed the entry of unfiltered air for when the rebreather was not in use. Behind the misty plate glass of the thing's owl-like goggles, one could just make out a pair of eyes. They looked human enough.

The same could not be said for the newcomer's hands. Mounted on forearms that were more steel than skin, they made tiny mechanical sounds as they whirred and rotated. One hand was playing with a slim, cylindrical tool, spinning it through augmetic fingers with a rapid clack-clack of metal.

He didn't seem to want to sit down. Wandering aimlessly around the table, he paused to look at the holo-projector, apparently admiring its craftsmanship. At that point, the rapid rhythm of the combi-tool in his fingers stuttered, dropping the little device to the floor. Making an irritated noise, the tech-priest stooped to retrieve it.

Walking a few chairs further round, the man seated himself, taking a position that was oblique to the projector lens. He pocketed the combi-tool, and for the first time, looked at his companions.

“Good afternoon,” he said. It was a deep, educated voice, made only slightly flat by the vox-systems that relayed it outside the rebreather mask. The tech-priest sounded almost upper-class. “Septimus Shryke.”

Riddick: Septimus dropped the combi-tool on purpose; he was looking to see if there are any listening devices under the table.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria wandered up to the building, her nose buried in a slate. Surely the Tricorn was a magnificent edifice, but her interest in the sight extended only to noting the particulars of its construction, while behind her eyes a endless roll of minutae about the structure strolled like the credits on the end of a pictcast program. No, the real interesting part of the Tricorn was all that she didnt know, the official patterns shed been able to pull for the building showed little more than the front door and a meter beyond, all else was swathed in censure.

She checked in, the guards gave her some trouble until she threw Wroth's name at them, after which they let her pass easily enough. Contrast with her manner outside, within she rubbernecked around like quite the tourist, mentally filling in the gaps on the plans. Well, untill she noticed the stares she was getting and ducked, hurrying on, through the next checkpoint and into the meeting room.

The door opened to reveal a young woman who couldnt have been out of her teens, her skin was pale and her red hair was long and casually unkept. She wore robes of plain grey, draped over with a matte combat cloak, which bulged around a backpack that she was obviously wearing under it. There was a bolt pistol sheathed at her hip, and opposite it a dataslate of blatantly superior design, its surface gleaming with white-silver palladium, one of the most 'holy' metals. Her accoutrements aside, she gave off a vaguely confused air, and those already in the room would have been forgiven for expecting her to suddenly declare she was in the wrong place and scurry off.

That didnt happen however, instead, she planted herself in a random seat, and reached for her slate, revealing a glittering tracery of a electoo on her hand... only to hesitate, and then realize shed forgotten the social niceties. "Good Afternoon." she answered with a nod, then added "Aria... but everyone calls me Babble."

[Calimos]

A summons from Inquisitor Wroth is always bound to involve something serious, otherwise he wouldn't bother to call on experienced Inquisitorial operatives, Marcus thought to himself, as he walked to the oppresive building that demonstrated the Inquisition's grip and authority over Scintilla and by extension over the whole of Calixis Sector. He could still recall vividly, in his memory, the first time he arrived in Scintilla, as a young Arbitrator, to be inducted in the Divisio Immoralis, as a Warden-in-training. He grinned slightly as he remembered himself back during that time. Barely fitting in his uniform and idealistic to the core. A couple of decades in Imperial service and here he was now, still confident yet much more mature and wary.

He nodded in acknowledgement to the impassive and stalwart stormtroopers guarding the entrance to the Palace and later on to the conference room, to which he'd been summoned. He took a moment to adjust his black cloak, remove the hood from his head and entered.

Tall, fit and broad-shouldered, Arbitrator Marcus Reinhart cut an imposing figure. His uniform was in excellent condition - as if he'd be in line for inspection - and the combat cloak he wore above it meshed perfectly with the "investigator" style he'd carefully cultivated through his career, in stark contrast to some of his more hothead and overly militant colleagues back in the Adeptus Arbites and the Divisio Immoralis. Still, his line of work was a dangerous one and no security measure was enough, as was perfectly demonstrated by the constant presence of the Stormtroopers in the Palace. An extensively modified lasgun hung across his back, and a heavy set pistol was resting in a shoulder holster, while his left palm was idly resting at the pommel of his sword, which was sculpted to resemble an eagle's head. He unclasped the respirator he wore, letting it hung idly on one side of his face as he looked around, his inquisitive, brown eyes scanning his surroundings, before proceeding to greet those acolytes already present in the room.

"Greetings. Fenria, good to see you again. Right on time and in full gear as always. Old habbits die hard eh?", he added with a smile.

"Mr. Shryke, I am Marcus Reinhart formerly of the Adeptus Arbites and the Divisio Immoralis. Glad to make your acquaintance. It is an honour to meet a Tech-Priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus.".

He then turned to the young lady, sitting nearby, draped in grey robes, his eyes lingering on the electoo that lay on her hand. Emperor above, do they recruit them so young these days, he couldn't help but genuinely wonder, before smiling to her and introducing himself.

"Miss Aria. Marcus Reinhart. Glad to meet you".

[LeSwordfish]

The next man to enter the room had his hair streaked through with grey, and a cluster of lines and marks around his eyes, but he strode like a young man, and those eyes were steely and ice-blue. He does not take a seat, instead preferring to wander the outside of the room, fingering the corners of the wall tapestries gently, and muttering "a genuine Encratica!" and similar to himself. His body and gear is wrapped in sheets of camo-cloth, and almost without thinking he seems to step between shadows, and the light seems unwilling to linger too often on him.

Abruptly, he turns to the group. "Good evening. Miss Aria, a pleasure as always. Mr Reinhart, good to see you again. Madam Fenria, as your usual one-woman-army self." he sits next to Shryke, gives him a brief evaluating glance, and extends a thin hand. "And Mr Shryke. I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Gideon Van Haal, of house Van Haal of RjksVaar. A member of the mechanicus? I'm a soldier of fortune myself. Which is to say-" a small smile slipped across his face. "-I kill people. For money, often."

[LCP]

Septimus regarded the hand for a moment as a foreign object, before recognising the gesture and extending his own. The tech-priest's augmetic fingers pinched a little, but the assassin was fairly sure that wasn't intentional.

"Goodness," he said, still in his cut-glass baritone. The accent was familiar to Gideon... Cantus? "That must be very exciting."

[Calimos]

Marcus smiled as Gideon greeted him.

"Good to see you as well Gideon. You're holding up pretty well. Top shape as always. Good to have you onboard for this one.

Your specialization and particular talents might come in handy", he added, with a slight grin, after hearing Gideon speaking about his "job description" to Septimus.

[Maugan Ra]

Fenria chuckles as she puts the data-slate down.

"Naturally, Marcus. I've tried going around unarmed before, and it just feels far too strange. And if I wasn't on time, why, Gideon wouldn't be able to arrive fashionably late."

She looks over at the new members of the team. "Sergeant Fenria, no last name, at your service. My job is to keep you all alive. Which, to be fair, also usually involves killing things. A bit less stylishly than Gideon, naturally, but we can't all be preening dandies. Some of us had to work for a living when we were growing up."

There's no real malice in her words. Indeed, you get the impression she's actually almost fond of the nobleman, in a will-never-admit-it kind of way.

[LeSwordfish]

"Oh, my dear, at least some of us know how to preen." A rogueish smile danced around his features. He shifted in his seat, and placed his rifle case on his knee, like a businessman in a cloak and armour. "I'll assume nobody knows any more than me about what's going on here?"

[Calimos]

"As far as I can tell, we're none the wiser about our master's intents regarding this meeting", answered Marcus, removing the lasgun from his back and putting it to rest beside his feet, to be able to sit back on his chair more comfortably.

"And to think that our trade specialty is information, aint it Gideon?...", he added playfully with a smile, retrieving a metal bottle, engraved with an Aquila insignia, from one of his cloak's pockets. "Would you care for a sip of fine amasec my friend? It'll make the anticipation more enjoyable".

[Riddick]

The Brief Briefing

https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR89cTFwIS3oxLmNMVla2TWdq9_SFSh6 0WJ27SwvRs5OaDK8LDVPA

Right as Marcus offered the bottle to Gideon, your Inquisitor entered. He was just as you remembered him – a hard man with a serious face. He also seemed to be in a hurry belied by his pace.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming.” He spoke as if addressing guest-soldiers. Each of you knew the Inquisitor to be a fair and honorable man. If any of you were to state that you could do this work no longer, that the moral and spiritual strain was becoming too much, Wroth would bid you farewell without judgment. Granted, you would likely be under surveillance for quite some time. He is also no fool. But when he said ‘Thank you for coming,’ he meant it as more than a pleasantry.

“You must excuse my haste. I received word this morning that a rogue trader linked to the Cold Trade was relocated.” A whisper of disgust crossed Wroth’s face before he continued. “Constantine is his name and I though him lost to the warp’s ungentle mercy the last time I tracked him.”

“He had numerous resources at his disposal seven years ago. I can only guess what he bears in hand now after drifting through the warp and who knows what distant locales all this time.”

The Inquisitor had been looking across those gathered making eye contact with each of you as he spoke. “I digress, however. Some of you may have heard whispers among the Sibellus masses as you traveled here. If rumor is to be believed, creatures possessed by the warp have stalked forth from the underhive and are ripping apart good, Imperial citizens.” Wroth’s makes a half-laugh as if in jest of taking rumors to heart.

His face resets into a visage of stone and duty.

“Unfortunately, rumor IS to be believed in this case.” Inquisitor Wroth continues with a sigh as he turns on the holo-projector. The first scene is of what looks to be a slaughter house. It’s clearly of a small room of some sort but all the furniture and walls have been liberally splattered with viscera and gore. “Here is what is left of the Imperial citizens,” he speaks the words with a hiss of anger. He clearly feels slighted at a personal level for the deaths of people he never met. Or perhaps it’s the nature of their demise.

He clicks to the next projection. And then the next, until four very similar pictures had played out: a brutal end to the people of this world, usually several at a time.

The next projection whirs to life. This image is the worst yet. Perhaps not for the remains of another man littered around an area seemingly too large to be coverable by one's internals. It’s unsettling to be reminded of just how many vital parts are held within you.

This scene struck each of you more than the others because the person slain was shown where they fell – in the middle of a cathedral. Sunlight poored through stained glass beyond the heretical murder showing winged figures weeping for the loss of their Emperor to the betrayer – Horus. The pews lined the middle aisle leading up to the altar in front. The horrific scene splayed before the altar.

“The first projections were captured a week ago and over the next few days following the first.” Wroth indicated this last scene at the cathedral with a bitter nod. “This happened yesterday.”

Wroth flicked the scene once more and stepped away from the projector, circling the table with his arms folded over his chest. The last projection showed a man in life – a portrait almost. He was an older, heavy set man with a shaved head. He clearly belonged to the Ecclesiarchy from his robes.

“This is Father Herstromm.” Wroth’s eyes grow both distant and fiery. “This WAS Father Herstromm,” the Inquisitor’s voice became fractionally softer and quieter as he continued, “and he was a friend in times past.”

He takes a deep breath and resumes with his normal conviction. “I charge all of you to find Herstomm’s killer. The rumors also say that creatures, some on four legs and others six, were seen running from these atrocities. If that is true, coincidence still remains an easy excuse,” he says setting up his next point. “All of the men I showed you are of the Ecclesiarchy - men of the Emperor rendered into so much ruin.”

Wroth stops at the side of the table and pulls a data-slate from his flak coat. He places it in the center of the table, eyeing each of you. “Find the hand directing these animals,” his finger lingered on the ‘slate as he placed it on the table, “and sever it, along with the head, from its heretical bearer.” Wroth slid the data-slate over towards the cell as he stood up straight.

“On there you’ll find the locations of each of these massacres. I suggest you begin with the Cathedral. We’ve had it on lockdown since the incident was reported…” Wroth’s face soured once again. Not by much, barely noticeable really, “…it’s the freshest lead you’ll have.”

“Sergeant Fenria, as I recall, you can pilot.” It wasn’t a question. “There is a Valkyrie prepped for flight on flight pad seven outside. Don’t get excited, the weapons have been stripped for now. I’ve secured a landing pad for the next month nearer to where you will be operating. The security there isn’t military grade, and so I can’t trust a fully fitted piece of military hardware to rest there while all of you go about this grim business. Use the Valkyrie to speed your travel as necessary. Return it when the job is complete.”

A quick glance at the data-slate shows that the cell will be operating at the coastal edge of Hive Sibellus, not terribly far south of the Lucid Palace. It’s almost an hour flight from the Tricorn over the unending sprawl that is the great hive.

The Inquisitor makes for the door and turns as he opens the doors. “Do this for me, acolytes. Those men deserved better.”

“Father Herstomm deserved better.” The fire returns to his eyes.

“In the Emperor’s name, strike them down.”

The rap of boot on granite tile is the only sound as Wroth departs down the hall outside. The double doors click shut returning the cell to the silence of the conference room.

Cell:


Additionally, those who can, make a:

-10 Schol. Lore (Legend) test
-20 Schol. Lore (Imperial Creed) test
+20 Forb. Lore (Inquisition) test

These are tied to the same somewhat trivial fact and not to the mission itself really.

Everyone make a -30 Awareness test if you please. This is not trivial :smallredface:

Also, if you would like to stop at the Tricorn's armory, each of you get an effective 'Credit' for 150 thrones to use there. Let me know what you would like if anything in particular.


LCP:

You don't find any hard wired listening devices, but you do spot a vox-bug (radical's 158) that resembles a mechanical version of below. While it's possible that Inquisitor Wroth sent in the creature-device for no other reason than to alert him to the cell's full attendance. It's more likely a precaution of the Tricorn itself to leave no eavesdropping stone unturned,as it were.

If you wish to interact with the vox-bug, let me know to what end :smallsmile:

https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTprjY5h0reQDZNiDZGMGddbP_-mOwKcDl9-zbj_EdmGlvi2ajz

[Maugan Ra]

Well, Fenria suffers somewhat in the Perception and Intelligence areas. She can't pass that awareness test, since she can't really check her Auspex right now to get the bonus. She might somehow pass the Imperial Creed lore if she can roll a five or less...

[roll0]

Fenria listens to the entire briefing with narrowed eyes. When she sees the murdered priest in the middle of the cathedral, her hands instinctively form the warding gesture of the Aquila as a muttered curse slips from her lips.

Once the Inquisitor has left the room, she calmly and methodically starts re-arming her weaponry, face set and resolute. "So. Murder of a priest inside a cathedral. The Ecclesiarchy are going to be all over this." she says, trying to keep her voice neutral and not entirely succeeding. Those of the team who have worked with her before likely remember that she hails from a Shrine World herself - a blasphemy of this nature is quite personal to her.

"Come on. Pad seven is this way, and we can talk of the flight over there. It will probably take an hour or so." she says, rising from her chair. "We get there, see what we can find out about the local situation. Work from there."

[ChaoticSky]

Aria peered intently at all that the inquisitor had to show them, looking away from the most grisly scenes... she was clearly uncomfortable around the gore, but seemed to absorb it all regardless, as if compelled.

She collected the dataslate in her turn, and copied its contents over into her own, passing the original on to others and burying her face in her own slate to read it over in detail. Aria followed Fenria out... a not unimpressive feat considering that she did so without glancing up from her slate.


Rolls

my slate would give me a further +10 to sift large amounts of data if it matters, i also have Total Recall, which would make these tests rote if they are trivial, at GM discretion.

-10 Schol. Lore (Legend) test
Int 53 -10[Pen] = 43
[roll0]

-20 Schol. Lore (Imperial Creed) test
Int 53 -20[Pen] = 33
[roll1]

+20 Forb. Lore (Inquisition) test
Int 53 +20[Skill]+10[Bon] = 83
[roll2]

-30 Awarenes
Per 40 -30[Pen] = 10
[roll3]
(depending on the nature of this, I may have a +10 from my gear, if it falls under my salvation auger's purview of environmental hazards)

Grrrr *bites the dice*

[Riddick]

ChaoticSky:


Your Forb. Lore (Inquisition) roll was a success. It's on the trivial side, but perhaps aids in your character's concept of knowing things the others don't?

A memory surfaces from old. A small entry in an Inquisitional operation report. What was not redacted of it, as is often the case, links your Inquisitor Wroth to the deceased Father Herstromm as fellow acolytes themselves. This was many decades ago as both have likely had juve-treatments. The entry named the two as comrades in the cell of six as they purged a Genestealer cult from the feudal world of Vasenrule. They were the only two survivors.

This would explain Wroth's uncharacteristic show of emotion in this briefing. It also shows that Wroth chose duty over a personal matter. He could have stayed to address this himself but the greater threat lurked in the Cold Trader, Constantine, given the details.

[LeSwordfish]

[roll0] vs 2

Gideon looked at the data slate with distaste and interest. He flicked through, to stare at the images, before passing it on to Shryke with an air of disgust.

"I agree. We can discuss this on-route." He stands and stretches, before picking up the rifle case and picking a minute speck of dust off the top.

[LCP]

Shryke's reaction to the projected images was less visceral than the others'. He watched intently, soaking in the details as if they were diagrams in a textbook.

When the dataslate reached him, he only glanced at its contents; like Aria, he had a slate of his own to which he could copy the information. His own model being rather more battered and utilitarian than the adept's, the transfer took a little longer. When it was done, he turned his attention to the projector, rifling its limited data-banks for the images they had been shown.

With the copies made to his satisfaction, he rose to follow the others. As he closed the door behind them, he held up one mechanical finger for them to wait.

“One thing.”

OOC: Tech-Use to get the crime scene images out of the projector, if a test is necessary:
[roll0] (target 73 before difficulty modifiers)

The “one thing” is that Shryke wants to get some maps from the Tricorn archives before they leave. Ideally, he wants:

Detailed maps of the districts containing the crime scenes.
A detailed map of the district surrounding their destination.
An overall, broad-scale map showing the entirety of the above and their surroundings.

Maybe those are all the same map, I'm not sure; however many maps it turns out to be, he'll copy them to his data-slate with the rest of the mission information. If it costs anything, I'm perfectly willing to use my credits to pay for it.

There's nothing else he wants to do before departing, so you can feel free to move him straight to the flight without another post from me. I don't want to hold the rest of us up.

Riddick: No actions regarding the vox-bug – Shryke just likes to know when he's being listened in on.

[Calimos]

Marcus greeted the Inquisitor with respect as he entered the room and atteneded the briefing with his full attention. As the pictures and holograms were shown, the mind of the hardened arbitrator raced, to analyze the scenes - the parts of them that were shown anyway - in an attempt to discern any underlying patterns in them and to recall any similar incidents in the past. He would have the full image after they'd go to each of the crime scenes, but it never hurt to be prepared beforehand.

He kept his reactions to a minimum, trying to keep his mind calm and think clearly about the situation at hand. Someone was killing servants of the Ecclesiarchy, people who had devoted their very lives to the worship of the Emperor and to the care of His people. And whoever that was, he had no concern for subtlety. As if he was openly defying the power and spiritual importance of the Ecclesiarchy or as if showing a profound hatred for the Ecclesiarchy. Or perhaps something more sinister... The Ministorum would certainly not be happy about this, not happy at all and for good reason.

Marcus payed much more attention to the last image shown. The gruesome murder of Father Herstromm. True, the modus operandi, as far as the amount of bloodletting and overall needless violence was concerned, appeared to be the same, yet several things pointed out, even during a preliminary assessment during this one. First, he was killed inside a cathedral. This showed a blatant defiance of the significance of the church. It could also be viewed as an open display of power. Whoever did this, killed a priest, gruesomely, in his own "turf" so to speak. Commiting such a heinous act on the hallowed grounds of the cathedral certainly constituted heresy in the eyes of the clergy. There was more to it however. It seemed as if carefully planned and executed, despite the suggestion to the contrary by the mindless violence displayed. The pews lined to mark the central aisle as the road leading to this horrid scene. As a proverbial way to the martyrdom of Father Herstromm. As the road that leads to the downfall of the church perhaps or of the faithful, if killing the shepherd would scatter the flock.

And all that scene, taking place directly below the depiction of winged figures mourning the fall of the Master of Mankind in the hands of Traitor Horus...that could have some significance as well. Marcus could not be sure of course, but he had learnt long ago, not to discard such intense feelings about the cases he was assigned to. This could mean something, and it certainly would not be good for the Imperium's interests.

He stood up, almost in attention, as Inquisitor Wroth approached the door.

"We will get to the bottom of this, my Lord. Rest assured, we'll find who's behind it and deliver the Emperor's righteous judgement. We'll contact you as soon as we've made considerable progress or in case we stumble upon something that is deemed serious and urgent enough to require your attention".

After the Inquisitor left, Marcus shared with the other acolytes all his thoughts on the matter and prepared for the cell's departure.



OOC


First a general question: Are the Lore tests considered Intelligence tests, for the purpose of utilising the Foresight talent, in order to receive a +10 bonus to them? If they are, I'll take the time studying the relevant info, cross-referencing it with previous investigation reports from my data-slate, to work better on the case and receive the aforementioned bonus.

1. A Forbidden Lore (Cults) test, if applicable, to determine whether or not there is or there has been a cult activity, as of lately in Hive Sibellus, which is rumoured to indulge in such bloodletting and murderous practices. Also, to see if I can recall any such or similar cult activity that took place in the past.

[roll0] vs 40 or 50

2. An Intelligence test, if applicable, to determine if there's some sort of connection or similarity, of those murders to the Calixian Pattern Killings cases some of which my character has investigated in the past, during his service to the Adeptus Arbites.

[roll1] vs 50

3. A Forbidden Lore (Daemonology) test, if applicable, to determine if the description of the aforementioned beasts matches or resembles anything daemonic in origin.

[roll2] vs 20 (I have it as a basic skill, so it's tested vs half my Intelligence)

4. A Forbidden Lore (Heresy) test, if applicable to determine any and all heretical practises commited (temple desecration etc) and to figure out if any similar ones have been commited by any notorious heretics or heretical sects in the past.

[roll3] vs 40 or 50

[Riddick]

The Southlows

http://i644.photobucket.com/albums/uu170/Kairi_Star_album/Anime%20Role%20Play%20Choices/Anime%20Places/The_Dark_City.jpg

As the acolytes approached flight pad seven, the military craft hummed with power. The nose depicted an embossed -9- with the wings of an Aquila on either side. An Inquisitorial pilot, glanced up as you all approached, he hopped from the cockpit and jogged past with an “all yours!”

The skies remained dark, heavy with pollution. The clouds were a deep blue, verging on black in some areas. The Tricorn was the tallest structure as far as the eye could see and the Acolytes were standing on top of it. This is where the flight pads were located. As if to send the cell off, the skies cracked open. Lightning struck the tallest vox-mast nearby. The mast rose far above the acolytes but the sound was ear shattering. Moments later the skies wept on Sibellus, perhaps for Father Herstromm.

Perhaps for you.

The cell soared over hive Sibellus. The Valkyrie roared through the thick precipitation with Fenria at the helm. In the closed troop compartment, the cell had time to dig into the mission slate’s contents more thoroughly and to discuss amongst themselves their theories and ideas.

The mission slate, now copied several times to most of the acolytes, held a very accurate map of all of Sibellus. The map was capable of displaying an area down to the block level or the region and anywhere in between. The sprawl of the underhive below was, of course, uncharted.

The slate detailed Father Herstromm’s tenure at that cathedral and continued on to list the identities and pertinent facts of the other five grisly scenes. While Father Helstromm was the most senior among the victoms, the others, ten in addition to Herstromm, were a part of the Ecclesiarchy just as Inquisitor Wroth had stated.

Several of the men were Preachers of the faith and the heads of their respective parishes. A few among the fallen were Frateris Militia who had devoted their lives to protecting the Preachers, and the faith. Hive life could often run violent. Unfortunately, no one is safe, not even a Preacher. The last among the deceased appeared to be a Drill Abbot for the local Frateris chapter. Of those killed, this man and Herstromm were the only to die alone. The others were in pairs or a trio when the “beasts” arrived. The Abbot’s name was Marshal Stone.

The Cathedral has supposedly been on lockdown by Storm Troopers since the attack was reported. There is no listed details on the witnesses, if any, or clues left at the holy temple.

The flight takes a little over an hour, the weather slowing down the Valkyrie. The storm had not abated any by a change of location of the passage of time. As the craft set down on the landing pad, the engines pushed gathered water from the pad with its downdraft. Far to the north, the silhouette of the Lucid Palace was barely visible through the storm. The palace housed the Sector Governor Marius Hax and his court.

Below the landing pad, the ocean stirred as it crashed endlessly into the hive and cliff walls. This far up, the hive’s height was more apparent. The water was hundred of meters below which indicated that the hive itself must delve down just as deeply if not deeper. Here, at the top of the local hive, it was easy to feel free and unconstrained. The same couldn’t be said in the depths of the mid-hive below or even lower.

Father Herstromm’s temple, the Cathedral of his Holy Wrath, lay just a kilometer to the southwest. Its lofty heights visible over the surrounding hive-sprawl.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed again. Farther away this time.

Welcome to sector 619 – the Southlows.

Calimos:
Marcus’ keen eye for investigation caught on a tiny detail as the projector showed Father Herstromm’s grisly scene. As noted, there were several winged figures making up a significant portion of the stained glass behind the altar. As the light poured in from outside, illuminating the interior, the projector pans across the scene as if the individual taking the footage stepped back to show everything of this horrific event. A necessity for the investigation, but likely a gut wrenching task.

Reinhart’s eye catches something in the light coming through the glass. As his eye is drawn to the background of the projection, he sees a minute detail in the glass itself. It would be hard to notice if you were in the Cathedral itself, let alone watching a projected scene from there.

One of the winged figures, its weeping eye was off-colored. It was different than the rest somehow. Stained glass depictions feature a collection of fitted, specially colored pieces to make up the whole of the image. The eye of this winged figure was different and required closer inspection.

Your Lore & Intelligence tests reveal only that this style of killing is different from the Pattern Killings -just as heinous, but different.

[Calimos]

Raining...why did it always have to be raining... Marcus shivered as he made a subconscious connection between the storm that hailed their departure from Tricorn Palace and a storm that might very well be coming for the city itself, as if those events were its heralds...He pushed those thoughts from his mind, concentrating instead on the task at head. Drifting away into speculation and irrational fantasies would certainly not help.

For the most part of the trip he kept his silence, reading various reports on his dataslate, his face almost distorted in a mask of strictness. Something else gnawed at him, something he couldn't very well pinpoint, something he saw during the briefing. He played the sequence back in his mind, again and again and then it hit him. He had spotted it right from the start but his mind had just now realised the detail that stood out and its peculiarity.

He raised his voice, to speak to the other acolytes, his tone serious, yet somewhat excited as well.

"There is something I noticed. Something in the projection we saw during the briefing. And it is strange. We saw the crime scene in the cathedral. The dead priest before the altar, and behind the altar a stained glass depicting winged figures weeping for the Emperor. The weeping eye on one of those winged figures was different. All the rest were the same, on all figures. One of them, though, was different. It may turn out to be nothing, but I'll give it a close and thorough inspection when we get there.

Other than that, I cannot say that I'm in position to discern anything further on the case at this point. I had worked in some similar cases in the past, but not similar enough to form a connection, as far as I can tell".


*******

Upon their arrival to their destination, Marcus performed a last-minute weapons and equipment check, pulled up the hood of his cloak and descended to the ground, down to Sector 619. He breathed in deeply as he surveyed the surroundings, taking in the view, his eyes lingering a bit on the distant shape of Lucid Palace, the seat of Lord Sector Marius Hax.

"Smooth flight Fenria. Good to see you haven't lost your touch.

Here we are ladies and gentlemen. The cathedral should be close to our position. Should we get going or is there anything else you wish to take care of first?"

[Maugan Ra]

"Don't start. I had to get re-certified after my last assignment. Apparently not everyone considers my typical flying methods within the bounds of sanity." the soldier grumbles as she disembarks from the Valkyrie. She pulls her standard issue foul weather cloak on tight, grimacing as the rain still manages to soak her somehow.

"Let's get to the cathedral then. It's our best place to start and I, for one, want to be out of this rain. This is why I hate working topside of hives."

[LCP]

Shryke spent the flight immersed in the information on his data-slate, cross-referencing maps, pictures and the files on the deceased. He looked up only when Reinhart spoke. Not trying to reply over the drone of the Valkyrie's engines, he only nodded and made a note with the slate's stylus.

Stepping off onto the rain-swept landing-pad, the tech-priest looked around at their surroundings, the round lenses of his eyes glimmering through the deluge. Pulling his robes close against the rain, he looked up at the soaring spires of cathedral.

“We may as well start somewhere,” he said, in reply to Marcus' question. Producing the data-slate again, his fingers began tapping over the worn old control-runes, bringing up a map of their immediate surroundings. “Though I'd rather not walk in this, if it's all the same to you.”

Eyes poring over the green spiderwebs of streets and alleyways that the thick screen displayed, the tech-priest searched for the closest means of public transport.

OOC:If we've got time on the flight, Shryke is going to familiarise himself further with the details of the case. Using the map, the information from Wroth's dataslate and the images from the projector, can I get the answers to the following questions:

Geography
Is there any pattern to the locations of the murder sites?
What are the shortest and longest distances between murder sites?
What modes of transport could the killer have taken?
Assuming they are human, if they were to move on foot, roughly how long would it take them to get from one murder to the next?

Logic test to work out the above, if necessary: [roll0] (unmodified target 63)

Forensics
Looking closely at the picts of the murder scenes, is there a consistent theme (besides excessive carnage) to the way the victims were murdered? In particular:
Does the nature of the injuries betray anything about how they were inflicted (e.g. sharp blade, chainblade, animal attack, etc.)? Are there any signs of the bodies being partially eaten?
Are there any patterns to the wounds (e.g. specific limbs/organs consistently removed, cuts made in consistent locations, etc.)?
Is there any indication (clotting, bruising, facial expressions etc.) as to whether the majority of the injuries were inflicted before or after the victim was killed? If after, is there any visible injury that would be consistent with a killing blow?

Again, Logic (or anything else) if necessary: [roll1]

Victims
I'd like to look up the following information about each of the victims, if it's available in the data from Wroth's slate:
Name
Age
Rank (Frateris Militia, preacher, etc.)
Place of residence
Place of employment
Homeworld
Aside from these, if there's anything else about them that jumps out as something they have in common, Shryke would be interested in that.

In case I need Logic or anything to spot patterns of commonality: [roll2]

[Riddick]

OOC:

Geography
• Is there any pattern to the locations of the murder sites?
o Unknown
• What are the shortest and longest distances between murder sites?
o Shortest = 9.2kms Longest = 29.4kms
• What modes of transport could the killer have taken?
o By foot, lifts speed vertical movement in areas, tri-lorries (3 wheeled taxis) in the higher areas of the hive, & rail systems connecting regions.
• Assuming they are human, if they were to move on foot, roughly how long would it take them to get from one murder to the next?
o Time depends at 6.5kph, Avg walking speed.

Logic test to work out the above, if necessary: (1d100)[99] (unmodified target 63)

Forensics
Looking closely at the picts of the murder scenes, is there a consistent theme (besides excessive carnage) to the way the victims were murdered? In particular:
• Does the nature of the injuries betray anything about how they were inflicted (e.g. sharp blade, chainblade, animal attack, etc.)? Are there any signs of the bodies being partially eaten?
o Partially eaten? Yes. They resemble an animal attack on all counts. By the spread of the remains, consumption seemed to be frenetic as if the body was fought over and ripped apart - being spread around a wide area.
• Are there any patterns to the wounds (e.g. specific limbs/organs consistently removed, cuts made in consistent locations, etc.)?
o The damage to each victim is beyond extensive. Almost nothing remains in one piece. That said, the report states that none of the eyes of any of the victim’s were located among the human ruin.
• Is there any indication (clotting, bruising, facial expressions etc.) as to whether the majority of the injuries were inflicted before or after the victim was killed? If after, is there any visible injury that would be consistent with a killing blow?
o It’s nearly impossible to tell considering the level of damage each victim sustained.

Again, Logic (or anything else) if necessary: (1d100)[17]

Victims
I'd like to look up the following information about each of the victims, if it's available in the data from Wroth's slate:
• Name
• Age
• Rank (Frateris Militia, preacher, etc.)
• Place of residence
• Place of employment
• Homeworld

Victims listed by death site:

1. Isiah Yax, age 54, Preacher
- Southlows, Sigil Parish Temple, Scintilla
2. Leopold Urlaub, age 27, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, Sigil Parish Temple, Scintilla
3. Aaldo Varkey, age 19, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, Sigil Parish Temple, Scintilla

1. Ezra Carattini, age 79, Preacher
- Southlows, Church of the Higher Light, Scintilla
2. Boris Kudlacik, age 33, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, Church of the Higher Light, Regulus

3. Sydney Notari, age 39, Preacher
- Southlows, His Divine House of Prayer, Malfi
4. Earle Jochems, age 21, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, His Divine House of Prayer, Voidborn – Solar Wind

5. Aron Barters, age 47, Preacher
- Southlows, The Under-Sacellum, Scintilla
6. Royal Jangula, age 92, Preacher – Retired
- Southlows, NA, Fenksworld

7. Father Herstromm, age 113, Sub-Deacon
- Southlows, Cathedral of His Holy Wrath, Samson IV

8. Marshal Stone, age 45, Drill Abbot
- Southlows, Cathedral of His Holy Wrath, Tranch


Aside from these, if there's anything else about them that jumps out as something they have in common, Shryke would be interested in that.

In case I need Logic or anything to spot patterns of commonality: (1d100)[24]

Note: Not all of the men were killed within their homes or temples.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria followed the others to the take off pad, head down as she peered into her slate. As the group passed a door marked with a Armoury rune, she abruptly made a hard right into the room, without any word or warning. Unless they were paying attention, the person behind her would suddenly find themselves walking behind Fenria. Just as inexplicably, Aria rememerged from the armoury at the rear of the group, continuing on as if nothing happened. Another clip of bolt ammo clutched in her hand momentarily, before it disappeared into her clothing.

On the ride, she could have been mistaken for a funhouse mirror of Shryke, as she poured over her slate with equal intensity, her electooed hand drifting over the controls with a familiar caress. Once the Valk was down, she piled out with the others, her hood up and cloak pulled closed to protect her gear as much as her person from the sheeting rain. "The Cathedral seems like the best place to learn more." she added, then as if in afterthought "I can drive... if we had something to drive."

OOC

128 credits used, 22 remain. acquired 8 more bolt rounds.

Similar to our techpreist, can i make any lore (probably forbidden) to learn anything about the nature of the killings, a pattern, ritualistic signifier, etc?

Pity i dont have Forblore (Daemon) :smalltongue:

[Riddick]

OOC

^ You can, but best we wait until the Cathedral scene :smallcool:

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon spent the journey crouched by the open door of the vendetta, cloak pulled around him, resembling nothing so much as a great crow. He dropped onto the landing pad before the craft had fully alighted, and scanned the area through his macrobinoculars.

"Cathedral seems a good place to start." he added, half to himself. "Though one of us should ask around the buildings around it. Someone muast have seen this thing."

Does the map show what the buildings around the cathedral are, particularly those opposite the main exit? With a low perception, gideon's not the best for searching the crime scene, but heading off into the nearby uildings and doing some enquiring could work.

[LCP]

"I can drive... if we had something to drive."

"Try to hail a tri-cab," said Shryke, looking absent-mindedly up at the rooftops. "In the long term, I suggest we add finding some more reliable means of transport to our list of priorities."

Something seemed to have been ticking over in the tech-priest's mind. Turning his gaze towards the soaring outline of the cathedral again, he shook his head at Gideon's words.


"Cathedral seems a good place to start." he added, half to himself. "Though one of us should ask around the buildings around it. Someone must have seen this thing."

"Not quite," he said, his attention still elsewhere. "Eleven victims. Look at the wounds; whoever killed Herstromm should have been covered in blood from head to toe. That's assuming they are human, which, again, given the nature of the wounds, is a bad assumption." He spoke quickly and fluidly, with a mild air of frustration - as if delivering a lecture to himself. "Still, suppose it's a man. He's killed nine times already when he gets to Herstromm, and the enforcers are no closer to catching him. Each time, he's gutted his victim like a grox in a slaughterhouse; each time, he's had to make his escape. By number ten, he'll have it down pat. I doubt anyone would notice him."

Shryke finally looked round at the man he was talking to.

"If we want to find witnesses, we ought to go to the site of the first murder. That's where he's most likely to have made a mistake. My guess at the cathedral would be that he'd stash a change of clothes in the vestry and walk out looking like any other lay parishioner." He pulled his robes a little tighter against the rain and shrugged. "Assuming, as I said, that he is human."

"Still, the cathedral is a good starting point. Mr Reinhart has his interest in stained glass to pursue, and I personally would like to be indoors." The tech-priest's vestments were quickly soaking through; robes drooping heavily from his thin frame, he was quickly starting to look like a drowned scarecrow. "Let's go, shall we?"

OOC:
Note: Not all of the men were killed within their homes or temples.

Ah. In that case, can I also get the names of the murder sites?

(Thanks for all the other info!)

[LeSwordfish]

"We can check the other sites as time allows. For now, we should start with the clearest trail. Also, Herstromm is the specific man we've been ordered to investigate." He catches Shryke's look, and smiles politely. "I'm trying to think. If I'd done this, what's the last thing i'd want them doing."

[Riddick]

His Holy Wrath


http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs12/i/2006/276/1/a/Storm_Cathedral_by_CuLyMonster.jpg

At the landing facility, several other pads were arrayed down the cliff side and on solid ground next to refueling depots. The whole compound was lined with a four meter high rockcrete wall and barbed wire. The gate was guarded by three men from a private company. They hefted autoguns as they stepped out, into the rain, to approach the acolytes. Without a word, they handed over two copies of a ward accessor to re-enter the facility at will. The ward accessors were small cards with magne-strips keyed to the gate’s entry panel. The accessors displayed the logo of the company that owned this facility. The same logo was splayed across the gate although faded.

Aria flagged down a passing tri-cab just outside the landing facility. This one had five wheels and enough room for four people compared to the usual tri-cabs which could carry two. The name tri-cab stuck despite the obvious variation.

With Aria being the smallest, they all fit but it was a snug ride. It smelled of dampness within the vehicle as they made their way to the Cathedral. Rain pelted everything outside and ran in streams along the low points of the hive’s surface. If any evidence had been left to discover outside the Cathedral, it was likely long washed away by now.

The hive zoomed by outside the tri-cab. A hive was always striving to be higher than it currently is. Like a plant shoving aside others for sunlight, the new grew atop the old consigning the old to a lingering death as it sunk into the hive under layer after layer of new growth.

The cathedral hove into sight, towering over the surrounding hive. A magnificent example of gothic architecture. The stained glass depicted in the projections became visible, their artful beauty obvious even through the dark, rain stricken skies. The winged figures faced the tri-cab as it approached – facing to the east and the sea beyond.

The cell exited the vehicle, once more into the rain, and paid the driver for his service. It was a short ride and easy on the coin purse, as it were.

The cell approached the Cathedral and noticed right away the storm trooper presence that was tasked with keeping the area on lockdown. A few of them moved to begin raising their weapons but halted. One nodded under his full carapace helm as if accepting an order. The troopers stood down to allow the acolytes into the building. The great, heavy doors closed with some force behind the cell.

The interior of the Cathedral was mostly unlit. With the scene on lockdown, no one was permitted to relight the torches and candles that lit the interior. Why such archaic sources of light were still used was beyond the locals. Only a few flames still blazed inside the temple. The rest had succumbed to a draft that pervaded the building now.

Despite the lack of light, the immensity and artfulness in the construction of this place struck the entire cell. It was truly a work of art, and all in His name.
The carpeting at the far end of the aisle, under the altar was stained with Father Helstromm’s lfe blood. Some of the pews separating the cell from the altar were knocked aside as if run into with force and others were tipped over.

The Cathedral, this church of man, a holy symbol of His power was deathly quiet. As if offended by the transgression and horror that befell its sacred ground.


http://www.travellingbazaar.com/images/prague/St%20Vitus%20Cathedral%20interior%20Prague.jpg

OOC:
-2x Ward Accessors (Flight Pad) are obtained and need to be distributed among the cell

-The tri-cab ride cost 3 thrones. Someone's going bankrupt -_-

In the Church:

-The pews are disturbed.

-The blood stain remains uncleaned although Father Herstromm's remains have been removed after picts were taken.

-There is a draft and it's not too bright in there. Feel free to address that.

-Please feel free to describe your actions and add any relevant rolls pertaining to them: search etc.

Updated Victims:

Victims listed by death site:

1. Isiah Yax, age 54, Preacher
- Southlows, Sigil Parish Temple, Scintilla
2. Leopold Urlaub, age 27, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, Sigil Parish Temple, Scintilla
3. Aaldo Varkey, age 19, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, Sigil Parish Temple, Scintilla

*Location of Demise: Underhive. In his temple - Brought the word to unworthy. First sight of killings and approx 6.2kms under the ground you stand on and a bit to the north.

1. Ezra Carattini, age 79, Preacher
- Southlows, Church of the Higher Light, Scintilla
2. Boris Kudlacik, age 33, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, Church of the Higher Light, Regulus

*Demise: Upper-hive. In their church after hours. Fourth incident & 12.6kms to the Southeast.

3. Sydney Notari, age 39, Preacher
- Southlows, His Divine House of Prayer, Malfi
4. Earle Jochems, age 21, Frateris Militia
- Southlows, His Divine House of Prayer, Voidborn – Solar Wind

*Demise: Underhive. In an alley as he journeyed on foot to gather non-radiated food for his parish. Second killing incident and approx 7.1 kms underfoot and to the south.

5. Aron Barters, age 47, Preacher
- Southlows, The Under-Sacellum, Scintilla
6. Royal Jangula, age 92, Preacher – Retired
- Southlows, NA, Fenksworld

*Demise: Upper-hive. Within their shared home. Aron rook care of Royal in his eldlery state. Third killing and 8.6kms to the Northeast.

7. Father Herstromm, age 113, Sub-Deacon
- Southlows, Cathedral of His Holy Wrath, Samson IV

*Demise: Upper-hive. Within his temple. Most recent killing in the structure that you stand.

8. Marshal Stone, age 45, Drill Abbot
- Southlows, Cathedral of His Holy Wrath, Tranch

*Demise: Mid-hive. Found at the foot of Saint Valimor's statue in the Onis Market approx 22.6kms to the north and down into the mid-hive. This location is very far from Stone's residence. Second to last to die.


LeSwordfish:
The map does NOT indicate the purpose of the nearby structures. The map lists arteria names and sideroads along with major points of interest. There isn't much residential nearby the Cathedral but such is the nature of those without hope that they seek to sleep within hope's light...

[LCP]

Shaking out some of the water from his robes, Shryke looked around the cathedral, eyes passing lightly over the trappings of the Ecclesiarchy. Dissatisfied with the darkness, the inbuilt illuminator of his optical mechadendrite snapped on with a loud clack, flooding the area in front him with a white, clinical light.

"Hm," he said, noting the absence of the body. "Would've been more useful if they'd left him here."

Steel staff click-clack-ing against the flagstones, he advanced up the aisle towards the murder scene.

OOC: Shryke is going to start a comprehensive search of the premises, starting at the point where Herstromm's body was found. I'll put some more details below, but he's interested in any and all details he can find.

[roll0]
Base Perception is 33. Optical Mechadendrite gives a +10, and if allowed I'd like to make it a Lengthy Search (IH, p.236) for another +30 (this is a big cathedral, so I expect that'd take more than the listed 15 minutes).
If he fails, Fortune Point: [roll1]


EDIT: Bam! 7 (4?) degrees of success!

List of things he's particularly looking for:
Any telling forensic details around the bloodstain (damage to the stonework/furnishings*, stray hairs, scraps of flesh or clothing, etc.)
Any indication of which direction the killer approached from, and which direction the killer fled (is there any evidence of bloody tracks?).
Any consistent interpretation of the disorganisation of the pews (were they thrown over by someone charging the altar? Running away from the altar? A vigorous fight?), looking at their orientation and any marks left on them.
Any evidence that Herstromm put up a fight.
All possible entrances to the cathedral (are there any side doors that open to the outside?).
Any and all nooks, crannies and side rooms where bloody clothes and/or murder weapons could have been stashed (particularly the vestry!).
Any surveillance equipment that exists inside the cathedral.
Any locations (possibly on the upper levels) where someone might have been able to observe the killing without being seen.
Any objects with some particular personal connection to the dead man (again, most likely in side rooms).

That doesn't mean he's not on the lookout for absolutely anything that looks like a clue, of course - if there's a scrawling on the wall that says "IT WAS DOCTOR MURDER THE MURDERING DOCTOR" he's not going to ignore that because he's looking for the vestry :smallbiggrin:

*When it comes to looking at chips in stonework/woodwork, tears in the carpet etc., one of the listed features of the optical mechadendrite is that it can function as a microscope.

[Maugan Ra]

"Useful, perhaps, but hardly respectful. The man was a servant of the God-Emperor, and it would have been unseemly to just leave him there." Fenria returns as she paces around the inside of the cathedral.

OOC

Fenria is going to analyze the situation from a soldier's perspective.
- Look at the various ways in and out of the cathedral, identifying potential routes that one could take to enter and exit.
- See if she can also determine anything from the knocked over pews, using her own combat experience. Where they knocked over to provide cover, did they get sent spinning during a fight, that sort of thing.
- She'll then check any other rooms within easy reach of the main chamber, even if they're just small closets. Places someone might hide while waiting to strike.

After that, she's going to go seek out another of the clergy, see what she can learn regarding their security personnel. If they're Fraetis Militia, she'll go speak to them. Not sure what rolls to make for any of this, though.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon shrugged off his expensive camo-cloak, folded it neatly, and placed it atop his rifle case on one of the back pews. He leaned his lascarbine against them and then stretched, seemingly glad to have the weight off his shoulders.

"While you search the area," he said, still stretching, rolling his sholders and arching his back. "I'm going to check out the other buildings and the people around here. See if anyone saw anything, or can give any other information."

He stops stretching and is no longer the man he was. Instead he is smaller and with a hunched, shambling bearing. He gives a grin that is almost a leer, and winks. "Be seein' ya, gents. Don't let me stash be nicked."

Inquiry test [roll]1d100[\roll] vs 42. (In OOC, doy)

Particularly looking for witnesses, security cameras that might overlook the area. Starting with, as you implied, local homeless and vagrants.

If there's a way to boost this by making it take as long as LCP's search, i'll do that.

[Calimos]

"While you search the area," he said, still stretching, rolling his sholders and arching his back. "I'm going to check out the other buildings and the people around here. See if anyone saw anything, or can give any other information."


Marcus nodded to Gideon.
"Stay sharp and make sure to contact us should anything comes up", he said, tapping discreetly at the micro-bead in his ear.


*******

The hardened Arbitrator removed the hood from his head, as he entered the cathedral and took in the whole scene once more. Most candles were not lit and the place was dark, but Marcus was not disturbed. He offered his lamp pack to any of the other acolytes, should they need it and put on his Photo-Visors to allow him for perfectly clear view in these dark surroundings.

Having already made his first investigation target clear, Marcus walked in a brisk pace, though careful not to disturb the crime scene, towards the stained glass behind the altar to examine up close the peculiar eye on that winged figure, which he had spotted earlier, during the briefing by Inquisitor Wroth. His movements were precise, careful and showed professionalism and an extensive experience on the evaluation of similar crime scenes, which was no surpise, due to his background in the Adeptus Arbites and the Divisio Immoralis. After examining carefully the strangely different eye on the stained glass, he proceeded to study closer each and every part of the crime scene as well as the rest of the cathedral, surrounding it.

Reaching into one of his cloak's pockets, he procured a couple of devices, to assist him in assessing and evaluating every detail on the crime scene. This was a serious case and he had to make sure that everything would be done with the utmost care and dilligence. He walked alongside the blood trails, carefully studying the stains on the carpets for any patterns, tracks or footprints. He observed the pews and altar up close and from a distance, in an attempt to discern any pattern in the unnerving bloody scene that had unfolded before him. His mind raced, as he contemplated potential links between all that he observed and all that already knew or had seen in the past, pausing at regular intervals to consult both his dataslate and the readings on the auspex.

OOC


1. Tracking test, if applicable, to determine any particularly strange or unusual footprints or other kinds of tracks in the cathedral, as well as to get a rough estimation of the individuals that have been here before us.

[roll0] vs 60 (Int + Foresight bonus + Skill at [+10])

2. Awareness test, if applicable, to determine any useful clues that I might have missed, from the crime scene view in the projection. Utilising my Auspex to enhance it.

[roll1] vs 70 (Per + Auspex bonus + Skill at [+10])

3. Tech-Use test, if applicable, to utilise my Auspex, in order to spot things not normally detectable to human senses alone.

[roll2] vs 60 (Int + Foresight bonus + Combi-tool bonus)

4. Search test, if applicable, to literally comb the area, for any useful clue, piece of evidence, overlooked detail etc. Taking my time on this, as LCP stated above.

[roll3] vs 80 (Int + Lengthy Searches bonus + Skill at [+10])

5. Forbidden Lore (Cults) test, if applicable, to determine whether the particulars of this murder constitute a known practice in any known cult of the Sector etc.

[roll4] vs 50 (Int + Foresight bonus)

*If I recall correctly, Forbidden Lore is an investigation skill, so in case I succeed in my previous Awareness and Search tests, it could decrease the difficulty of any subsequent investigation test, by one step per degree of success. The same is also true for Tracking which can be used an Investigation skill, in cases - like this one - where it's important to work out who or what has been at a site, when they were there and how many were there, as well as working out where they went next [Inq. Handbook. pg 238]. If this stands, then both the difficulty of the Tracking and the Forbidden Lore Cults test, should decrease by 6 steps according to my 6 DoS on the Awareness and Search tests, as presented above. Apologies if I got something wrong with the rules, since I admit it's the first time I've approached an Investigation so thoroughly. :smallsmile:

[Maugan Ra]

+I've got a picter out here, looks like it might have line of sight on the cathedral entrance. Shryke, when you're done in there, it might have recorded something useful. + Fenria voxes to the rest of the team from her present position outside.

She converses with the Storm Troopers for a bit, and confirms that yes, a list of active temples and Ecclesiarchy staff would be very useful.

[LCP]

Picking over the detritus of the pews, Shryke stopped for a moment, straightening his back to examine a coarse filament of hair between his iron fingers. The mechadendrite on his shoulder whirred and buzzed, increasing its magnification for close examination.

Producing a vial of machine oil, the tech-priest clicked open the cap and dropped the hair inside: it was the best means of inert storage he had. Sweeping the flagstones with the mechadendrite's beam, he continued with his search.

OOC: Examining the scratch-marks at maximum magnification, are there any traces of material left in them? Bone, keratin, chitin, metal? Without the relevant Scholastic Lore, Shryke may not be able to distinguish between different organic substrates, but I think he could tell the difference between them and metals. Shryke sees dogs or similar leaving deep scratch-marks in granite, his first thought is that they've been augmetically enhanced.


The Father lived a spartan life it seemed - sparse belongings of good enough quality to be taken seriously in his post but little else.

I take it that means there's no journal or letters or such. Did he have a personal prayerbook or similar? If so, Shryke will flick through it to look for significant annotations.

On the upper level, Shryke stopped before a glorified candlestick, bobbing his head to Reinhardt. There was a blank sheet of parchment that had wrapped itself around the gilded stand, possibly blown there by the wind. Carefully, the tech-priest peeled it away, unfolding it and turning it over to make sure it was blank.

"Curious," he said. He turned it over again, as if some text might have appeared while he wasn't looking. Looking at Marcus, he held it out for examination. "Does this have religious significance?"

The vox crackled with Fenria's voice. Marcus couldn't actually see Shryke's ears prick up, but it was easy to imagine that they did.

"One moment," he said. "Hold onto this."

Folding the paper into an exact square with two quick movements, he handed it to the arbitrator and hurried outside.


~

Hovering in the rain-shadow of the cathedral gates, Shryke scanned the mist of falling water for the guardswoman and her promised picter.

"Mm," he said, when it was pointed out. "Perfect."

OOC: Can we reach the picter?

Also, is there any reason to believe that anything would be stored on the picter itself, or would all the data storage be elsewhere? If so, where, and would the local Mechanicus have access privileges?

[Calimos]

"Curious," he said. He turned it over again, as if some text might have appeared while he wasn't looking. Looking at Marcus, he held it out for examination. "Does this have religious significance?"

The vox crackled with Fenria's voice. Marcus couldn't actually see Shryke's ears prick up, but it was easy to imagine that they did.

"One moment," he said. "Hold onto this."

Folding the paper into an exact square with two quick movements, he handed it to the arbitrator and hurried outside.



Marcus nodded and kept the blank parchment, for further examination.

"When you're done with the picter, I'd appreciate if you could lend me a hand as well. Not much on the tracks, other than a clear indication of those creatures fighting over their meal, which is to say our deceased priest. The odd piece, however, on the stained glass I was investigating, downstairs, turned out to be a missing piece, and that is where the draft is coming from. Also, there's a strange dried substance along the bottom edge of that vacant slot, almost like a real tear built up along and running down the inside of the stained glass. I cannot be sure of what it is, but hopefully with further analysis and examination we might discern something".

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon returned to the group. "Nothing more to be gathered from..." He followed the eyeline of the group up to the camera. "Well. Hello." He looked from the camera to its area of effect, and back again. "Hello indeed."

Gideon took hold of the pole the camera was based on, and began to climb.

[roll0] vs 52 agility +10 training -10 wet.

[Riddick]

The cell moved among the deserted Cathedral, a morbidly quiet scene. How did this all fit together? The killings, was their significance to the locations? Was there any reason or rhyme to these travesties?

Members of the cell had found clues or recalled pertinent facts, but how did it all come together? What exactly was going on in hive Sibellus?

Gideon fought for purchase on the rain slicked pole to gather what could likely be a very solid lead. Marcus held in his hands a rogue piece of parchment who's origin or purpose was unclear, and what was the substance on the stained glass? The tracks and the hair, what beast or beasts did they belong to and how could they sunder granite with mere claws.

Something was at work here. And was this dark force done? Or were more Ecclesiarchy in mortal danger?

It was nearly time for the cell to come together and make sense of this grisly matter.

Outside, the rain continued unabated.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon slid back to the bottom of the pole, and didn't curse. He hadn't cursed in forty standard.

"Anyone able to give me a boost?" he asked, and attacked the pole again.

While he climbed, he continued talking. "A hole in the window? A machined one? Sounds like somebody deliberately trying to put something in. Or get something out. Maybe those things were summoned. Maybe thats why they came as a surprise. Make a hole and send a totem or something in... ahah! Got you."

He crooked one arm over the top of the picter, and hung from it like a banner while he fiddled with the picter's record-slate. "I wouldn't know. Do any cameras cover that window?"

[roll0] vs 52 again, 62 if someone can give me an assist.

[Riddick]

Gideon took a tighter hold on the rain slick pole and climbed higher - his arms and legs viced around the post.

When he reached the top, he held on tight with both legs and an arm over the top. The free hand skillfully opened the back of the picter and removed the data-chip held inside. The slowly blinking green light turned a solid red with the chip removed.

The sniper slid back down the pole and landed softly. Cradling the data-chip from the conditions, it was apparent after a brief look that with some slight alterations, Babble's advanced 'slate should be able to play back the chip's contents.

OOC:
Nicely done ;) A check can be made on the other side of the Cathedral to see if another picter can be found. On the drive in however, you all noticed that there is a drop-off on the other side allowing the Cathedral to look over the hive to the east all the way to the ocean beyond.

[Calimos]

Marcus sighed and rubbed his chin, staring at the parchment he was holding, with a puzzled look in his face. The parchment had been wet, and recently dried. It still had that peculiar texture and anomaly in its surface that indicated that.

Still holding it in his hands, and thinking over the other clues they had already located in the crime scene, such as the footprints left by 4-legged and 6-legged creatures, the hardened arbitrator descended to the ground floor and approached the stained glass once again. He examined once more the eyes on the other figures, looked once again from inside the hole left by the missing eye, in case he'd spot anything else, then pulled out his knife and carefully tried to graze off some of this strange substance, from the glass, for further examination.

After that, he folded, neatly, the parchment in a cylindrical shape and tried to insert it in the hole where the eye of the figure should have been, in an effort to confirm his suspicion, that the parchment may have been placed there to close this hole. After all, despite the hole in the glass, no water had been found inside the church, while the parchment had been evidently wet previously. Of course, even if he assumed that the parchment was indeed placed there, it could have been done for nothing more than to temporarily seal this hole, until it could be fixed or perhaps for a lack of resources, which however sounded a bit strange, since the coffers of the Ecclesiarchy, on the Sector's capital and on the upper-hive even more, should be more than full to deal with such a minor repair.

And if it was inserted there indeed, then it somehow had come out. That could be maybe explained with the strong winds that were blowing tonight, which could have caused the paper to be dislodged from its place. There was this strange substance as well, that complicated things somehow. Perhaps it was some sort of glue, put there to keep this parchment or something else in place, or merely left there by the original part of glass that depicted the eye.

Then again, the hole might have held something else in its space, something removed before they had come to investigate, which was admittedly quite far fetched, given the lockdown that had been imposed upon the premises after the discovery of the murder.

Those and even more questions and potential links between the various clues and facts occupied Marcus' mind as he continued his investigation and went on to see the rest, sharing with them his findings and awaiting to hear of their own as well as have a look on the feed from the picter.

[Maugan Ra]

"Good, you got it. Let's get back inside... this rain is depressing." Fenria says to Gideon, before crossing back over and re-entering the cathedral.

+So. Signs of savage mauling, claws on the floor, and some hair. An attack beast of some kind, perhaps? But the killings have been fairly precise, no one save the priests killed. That presumably means the handlers released them close to the target... but if you can get that close, why rely on an animal to do the job?+ She muses over the Vox. There was something missing here, but damned if she knew what. The priests back home hadn't trained her for logical investigative work, after all...

[LeSwordfish]

"Simple, my dear. Because you get no blood on your hands. And because the voices in your head tell you to."

[ChaoticSky]

Aria was sitting on the pew in the front row, pouring over her slate and the images on it while the others fussed over the crime scene, she knew well enough that she wasnt a Verispex, her talents had always been in the areas of the mind, not in observation. So while they looked at the new scene, she looked at the old ones. One picture in particular caught her attention, a Drill Abbot... by what she could see of his insignae through the mess, he lay at the foot of a statue, a statue she reognized.

Perhaps startling some of the others, she suddenly broke her silent study and began speaking; "One of the previous victims was killed at the feet of Saint Valimor." she noted, her tone turning biblomatic, as if she was repeating something she had read, "Saint Onis Valimor is a Ecclesiarchy recognized Saint, revered locally for performing a miracle in ending a seasonal hurricane cycle that once ravaged the Hive. As a low ranking priest, He rowed out to the jagged rocks just past the shoreline and climbed atop one, where he fasted and prayed for 21 days, suffering the storms, untill on the final day, the storms broke, and have not recurred since, he also died around the same time. Valimor was cannonized posthumourously for the miracle he earned with his show of faith, records from the time note a minor upswing in heresy related crimes, as several groups attempted to discredit Valimor's Miracle. - Whatever manner of beast did these killings, mundane or otherwise, it had to come here somehow, it might be worthwhile checking into import logs for dangerous animals and... ah... a-"

Aria's expression had started to become pained towards the end of her sudden explosion of information, and she fumbled a smoking pipe out of her pockets and lit it, stuffing it into her mouth as if to stop the flow of words. While this worked, the others might notice that she continued to chew on the mouthpeice for several moments before calming down. "Hense, Babble." she muttered embarrassedly.

[LCP]

Stepping back inside from the rain, Shryke glanced up at the soaring ceiling of the cathedral. The beam of his mechadendrite's illuminator clicked off, and he followed the others back towards the altar.

"It appears that Herstromm put up considerable resistance. Not bad for a man of a hundred and thirteen." As he came to a halt, the illuminator flicked back on, spotlighting the spatter of blood where the priest had fallen. "Not to mention the militiamen killed in the first two attacks. Perhaps our killers would rather have these animals do their fighting for them." He paused. "Or perhaps it's simply for the terror of it. I wonder how many priests have been asking for transfers away from the Southlows lately."

He let the question fold. "Still, an animal is a clumsy weapon. Easy to trace." He looked acquisitively at the picter-chip. "If we can find out how they arrived here, then we are halfway to finding them."

OOC: Some more questions regarding the information we were given at the beginning, if that's alright:

How far apart were the previous murders in time?
How long ago was Herstromm's death?
How many temples are there left in the Southlows, beyond the ones that have already been hit?

Shryke has a bit more to say regarding the investigation, but it ought to wait until after we've seen the video-log. I assume from the posts above that Shryke doesn't need to help out with a Security test to access it.

[LeSwordfish]

"Using them for multiple murders is... Clumsy. Unprofessional." Gideon frowned. "The actions of someone given a gift they don't know how to use. One animal attack could be a tragedy. Two, a coincidence. But all these?" he began to pace. "A mistake? A message? A distraction? A ritual? I like your idea of a terror-weapon. Perhaps someone wants to see the ecclesiarchy's power wane in this area."

Apologies if we've been told this, but how big are the churches hit? How important? And how big are the others? Is there a general pattern.

[Riddick]

With only a little tinkering, the cell is able to patch the data-chip from the picter into Aria’s advanced data-slate.

The feed started running from the beginning – days ago. Forwarding ahead hours at a time, the grainy image neared the correct timeframe. Judging by the quality of the feed, the Administratum had deemed the arteria picters less than a priority for the sector.

As the feed forwarded rapidly, the black of night rendered the grainy images into various shades of gray. A figure shot forward as it approached the Cathedral door in the early morning hours. This had to be it – Herstromm’s murder.

Rewinding back, just prior to the figure walking into view, the cell began at the beginning.

Now at normal speed, the figure walked into view and what somewhat resembled a man, as much as an inkblot resembles anything, it waltzed up to the front of the Cathedral and seemed to pause.

The figure looked like the absence of focus on the picter’s part as if the machine spirit didn’t know what to make of the individual. Areas of the screen flittered with feedback errors denying the cell a clean image of the suspect.

The figure began moving once more and lazily walked up to the Cathedral doors. From the picter’s angle, a few torches and candles still blazed within. Herstromm would commonly remain up past midnight reading and rereading scriptures. Tonight would be his last, sadly.

From behind the figure, from where he had paused, movement caught the cell’s eyes. Now within focus, although dark and grainy, a sewage entryway slid open. Dark forms leapt from the opening, three of them, and padded quickly into the deeper shadows nearer the Cathedral.

The cell had walked right by the same sewage grate when they first arrived. Closer inspection seemed warranted.

As the figure finally stepped from the darkness of the streets up to the Cathedral door, his masked form didn't change but his shadow seemed unaffected by whatever measures were confusing the machine spirit of the picter.

The figure looked to knock on the door – an inked appendage rising towards the door. The creatures lurked in the black at the foot of the Cathedral, creeping closer as if sensing the imminent violence.

One of the Cathedral’s massive doors creaked open and Father Herstromm stepped into view. His file clearly stated his age but he seemed to stand tall, invigorated by the Emperor’s work. Herstromm and the figure seemed to speak for the next half minute before the Father grew agitated and tried to close the door in the figure’s face. Herstromm was a large man, that much was apparent, and even without being able to clearly see this dark individual, he was clearly much smaller than the Cathedral patron.

The figure wrested the door from Herstromm’s control, much to the Father’s surprise, and threw open not one but both doors. Herstromm’s facial features were difficult to make out at this range, but his body language betrayed many things.

Surprise.

Animosity.

Fear.

The creatures padded into the Father’s view from behind the figure. They moved like felids stalking even though in plain sight - trying to scare their prey into flight. Herstromm backed into the Cathedral, and the creatures lunged forward. With great agility, the beasts sprang into the building. The first leapt right at Father Herstromm who managed either by great luck or by dormant reflexes to catch the beast’s claws and throw the mass of the attacker away, into the first pew.

The overturned pew, lay on its side meters from the acolytes, and had been where Shryke found the errant hair.

The feed continued. Herstromm turned to run for the altar. The beasts were relentless. Through the still open doors, propped by the too-long arms of the dark figure, the tragedy played out. The creatures gave no respite and moved from pew to pew with frightening grace while the first one rose and charged down the aisle. At the foot of the altar, they ran down Herstromm.

The feed was mute, amplifying the horror of what was being displayed. The figure left the doors at last and as they began to close, blocking the scene within, Father Herstromm’s last moments were spent reaching for the altar as he was ripped apart in the jaws of an uncaring, wicked universe.

The doors closed but just as the cell could make out light within the Cathedral through the great windows adorning the front of the temple, they could see the shadows play within. Cast across the interior by weak light, the dark figure’s shadow grew across the back wall. Whoever he was, he was a remarkably lanky man who bore a cane in one hand.

The shadows also portrayed the horrific end to Father Herstromm as creatures lunged and fought over the choice scraps, their shadows lurched across the back wall, mirroring the events, while gore and blood spattered across the floor of the Cathedral.

The frenzied murder seemed to halt as the lanky man approached; his shadow kneeled out of view, towards Herstromm. What happened next went unseen, away from the faint light casting shadows.

Minutes later, the lanky man hove into view once more and walked past the altar. The creatures wasted no time in resuming their actions. The cane bearing man’s shadow grew longer and longer as he approached the altar and stepped back into view. The picter’s elevated position looked right into the Cathedral, over the arteria route, through unstained glass at the front of the temple. The inkiness returned with the man, Longshadow, strode purposefully up to the stained glass lining the back of the Cathedral and a blot-appendage reached out to the eye of a winged figure, poking it out effortlessly.

The figure turned, now facing the front of the Cathedral and the picter, as he removed a piece of parchment from his person dramatically. With flair, the parchment was held up, visible despite the inkiness of the holder. As a last flourish, the figure placed the parchment on the altar, and walked off, leaving the Cathedral.

The creatures followed and returned to the sewage/run off drainage system as the figure walked, nonchalantly out of view. The sewage entrance grate slid shut once more as the creatures vanished.

OOC:

Some more questions regarding the information we were given at the beginning, if that's alright:
1)How far apart were the previous murders in time?
2)How long ago was Herstromm's death?
3)How many temples are there left in the Southlows, beyond the ones that have already been hit?

1) The first four were virtually one a night starting approx a week ago. The last two, Herstromm & Marshal were separated by a day and weren't but a day to two ago.
2)Herstromm was the last to fall - yesterday. So Marshall died the night before.
3) Fenria acquired a good list of them and there is quite a few. More than enough to tie all of you up for days if not weeks.


Apologies if we've been told this, but how big are the churches hit? How important? And how big are the others? Is there a general pattern.

So far, there doesn't seem to be any pattern aside from all of the being members of the Ecclesiarchy. Herstromm's Cathedral was the greatest of those hit. The first lies in the underhive and is little more than a renovated chem-refinery. Some killed weren't even in their temples or even their homes int he case of Marshal who was found at the feet of a statue of Saint Valimor. Babble recently expanded on that.

The killer left the parchment found by the cell. It must have been blown off the altar when the storm rolled in and gusts of wind filled the Cathedral. Considering the antics witnessed, terror seems to be a more viable explanation. But what of the note? What significance does the stained glass eye hold? What's the mystery substance and why was Marshal found so far from his home? Most recently, what can be determined from the sewage grate?

[LCP]

Septimus watched the picter's recording in silence. When it had played out, he took the slate and rewound the feed, pausing it at the last image of the stranger.

“What is that?” he said, pointing at the inky distortions that obscured the man's figure. “A jamming device?” He handed the slate over to the next acolyte who wanted to look. “Why not just jam the whole feed?”

Straightening up, he turned away. “In any case, we have a sewer to examine.” He looked up at the rain beating against the windows as if it were a personal enemy. “Which will no doubt have been washed clean of anything useful.”

Pulling his damp hood forward over his face, the tech-priest headed back out into the cold.

OOC: Shryke's going to take a look at the grate.

Common Lore (Tech) to know if these kind of picter-jamming shenanigans are possible with any reproducibly-produced technology, if necessary.

[roll0]

Can we get a more detailed description of the animals seen on the feed?

[Riddick]

OOC:
EDIT: computer ate my first reply a sentence from completion. It was likely better than this one typed in irritation.

Two of the creatures are of the six limbed variety. They appear reptilian - long and lean. They have a long snout and lengthy claws. Like this but with 6 legs all long enough to run on:
https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSjisZ_BtAKs9ZgLYu0xedp6AnP7svP5 uOYoJXy6kKxQRVRGnZg
The one appears to be a cross between a felid and a canid. While the other two seem to be pack predators, this one is certainly an apex. Massive head, ridged back, and large paws.

More importantly, the creatures appear....wrong. Even beyond their discolored claws, eyes, and skin, their behavior seems off. The slate says that all of the victims were killed but barely eaten almost as if these creatures sought to destroy more than consume. They moved and acted almost sinister.

In any case, they are certainly xenos and unrecognizable beyond that.

Forbidden Lore (Xenos) if anyone has it.

***

Shryke determines that while a privacy field is certainly man-portable, its effects would be system wide. The entire feed would be worthless rather than just the figure depicted. Between that and the sinister creatures, it's becoming apparent that something else may be at work here. Something linked to the warp.

***

The sewer grate is large, circular, and covered in cross bars. A body could not fit in between the bars. It is immediately obvious that the grate is secured by a mechanical mechanism however. The panel is in a depressed section to avoid damage if a vehicle passes overhead. Presumably, there's a keypad under the panel to open the cross bars. Another panel is visible further down the sewer grate before the light fails.

The level of security on the grate is perplexing but due to a crime committed decades ago. An underhive gang utilized the sewer system to make their way all the way to the surface where they kidnapped a House Krin Banker's family. The ransom was paid but the hostages were never seen again.

Somewhat extreme measures were taken on behalf of the concerned nobles and houses after this tragedy.

That being the case, who has responsibility over these sewer systems now? And how did the killer come to use them?

[LCP]

Boots splashing through the puddles outside, Shryke crouched over the grate. His mind was troubled - there was no device he knew that could reproduce the effect he'd seen in the security feed, and the idea of a psyker as an enemy did not fill him with joy. He preferred targets that obeyed the laws of physics.

The sewer grate had a lock. Flipping open the panel that shielded the keypad, the tech-priest set to work on bypassing it.

OOC: Security check: [roll0] vs. Int 53

I take it the lock does not use a physical key, in which case he doesn't get the +30 from his multi-key.

[Maugan Ra]

Fenria, crouched next to the tech-priest, sighed to herself. "Wonderful. Crawling around in the sewers. What a glamorous life I find myself leading."

That said, as the hatch is opened, she dons her helmet without another word. The respirator will help keep out the stink, and the enhanced visor would compensate for the expected lack of useful lighting. Holding her Hellgun ready, the guardswoman advanced into the tunnel beyond.

[LCP]

Lowering himself carefully down through the grate, Shryke swept the darkness of the ducts with his illuminator, shining the beam of the mechadendrite-mounted lamp down each narrow tunnel until he was satisfied that nothing and no-one was waiting in the shadows.

“This must drain down through the sub-levels somewhere,” he said. “I wonder how easy it is to come up from below.” The kind of iron rungs they installed for sewer-jacks probably would not be too easy for the killers' four- or six-legged friends to navigate.

The beam of the illuminator refocused on their immediate surroundings, and the lenses of the optical mechadendrite whirred into life. The rain might well have washed away the blood on the creatures' paws, but their claws had cut into solid granite back in the cathedral: with luck, they might have left some scratch-marks down here to mark their passage.

OOC: Search test to look for scratch-marks: [roll0] (vs. 43 with mechadendrite bonus). If he finds some he'll hand the tracking over to Marcus, lending a hand if he can with his portable microscope.

[Calimos]

Marcus watched the picter feed, intently, trying to glean as much information and pertinent facts and clues from it as possible, cross-referencing them, in his mind, with everything they'd already uncovered inside the cathedral.

When the feed finished, his mind still filled with unanswered questions and missing links, regarding the case, Marcus went to the altar, trying to see if there was anything he missed in his previous search, in an effort to understand why Father Herstromm was desperately trying to reach it, while being under attack by the beasts.

After checking that once more and mentally confirming his suspicion that indeed there was something else placed in that eye-hole, in the stained glass, something that was unfortunately retrieved by the unknown man with the cane, he went outside to see where would the sewers lead their investigation. He checked the locking mechanism on both sides of the grate and looked around, in an effort to see if he could locate any pertinent clue, on who had opened it, unleashing the beasts to the upper-hive. Hoping to discover some trails, he examined, afterwards, the ground of the sewer network via his IR googles and began looking for tracks, that would probably mark the passage of those beasts.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria watched the feed on her slate with the others, seeming to almost shrink as everyone crowded in close to see. The events were unclear, mysterious, but the one part that really struck home for her was the priest apparently reaching for his book in his last moments. that was something she could understand and emphasize with. Of course it begged the why; comfort, protection or obligation? Wholly unterested in the slaughter than followed, her eyes strayed up from the slate to the book sitting on the altar.

Once the group dispersed after watching the recording, she stowed her slate and stepped up to the waiting book, she wrapped her hands around it and lifted it, a small smile playing over her lips as the parchment smell reached her. Absently, she followed the others out as she began flipping through the pages, in time she would copy everything of worth into her slate, but that would require quiet hours. For now, she rapidly skimmed, seeking pertinent information before stowing it in her backpack and following the others down.


Lit test (and lo, i skipped all the lit upgrades because its never used! >_<, so only basic lit for me)

Int 53
[roll0] vs 53

Ha! take that book!

[Riddick]

Aria:
Babble’s thirst for knowledge made reading a thing of want, of longing. What others consider a chore, she considered a boon. The prayer book was full of handwritten litanies. In the margins, Herstromm has written even more – anecdotes and entires.

One in particular caught her eye. The prayer in remembrance read:

“A life lost in His name is a soul eternalized. Loathe the heretic, the xenos, the daemon, but do not fear them. Only the Emperor can own your soul if you banish the impure & the unholy.”

In the margin next to the prayer is a messy, scribbled note:

‘Long was the shadow – As boundless as my sorrow. Tyr stands with the Emperor now, I’m sure. We did what we could...’

‘Night after night, the gaunt feeds – a glutton for fear, it’s never sated.’

The page looks well worn compared the others and the margin entry written with more force.


The cell had traveled for well over two hours through the run-off ducts of Sibellus. The unnatural characteristic that made the beasts’ claws even more savage also made for easier tracking. The ducts had rents and tears every dozen feet where one of the creatures had leapt or landed on the metal, tearing into it.

Many, many times the cell had to climb down an encased ladder. The water roared by, less than a meter away, drenching them in uncaring spray. During several of the climbs down, the cell saw the same tell-tale signs of the beasts travel. Claw marks on the outside of the ladder casing or handholds ripped into the duct itself.

It was a long, exhausting trek that could easily sap the strength or will from someone.

Finally, the roar of water was joined by another sound – the roar of people. The tracks led to another opening, this one upright draining into a rockcrete trench outside. The cell could see outside. A water recycling plant loomed directly outside and ahead. To the left however, was the source of the noise.
It was impossible to tell what caused the exhalation from where the stood, but the crowd would roar in approval of something out of sight or Oooo in response to some act.

A walkway passed by the duct exit. A trio of plant workers walked by, talking amongst themselves.

“It’s a good thing tha’ the Feast o’ da Emperah is comin! A lil prayer’ll wipe tha’ smudge righ’ off me soul!” The others laughed along with the speaker drunkenly as they walked out of sight. They never even looked into the duct holding the gathered cell.

With a little creative wiring and a glance at which keys had dirty fingerprints on them, Marcus had the grate open. For the moment, the coast was clear. No one would see a group crawl out of the sewer ducts.

[LCP]

Straightening up, Shryke surveyed his surroundings. They had come a long way, although the conditions must surely have made it seem longer. Nonetheless, the fact that the creatures had navigated all those winding passages and ladders to emerge precisely where they were needed betrayed an uncomfortable level of intelligence.

Soaking in the scene, the tech-priests' head turned in the direction of the noises coming their way. They were promising noises.

"I think we should head that way," he said. "Any tracks, Mr Reinhart?"

[Riddick]

Marcus:
The tracks appear to have originated from the left as well, from what you can see.

[Calimos]

Marcus, a bit weary from following the beasts' tracks throughout the long and arduous trekk in the sewers, took a moment to survey the surroundings and see where their search had led them. It was unnerving indeed to imagine that mere beasts would travel all that distance in the complexity of Scintilla's sewer network, to strike at their designated target.

At Shryke's question, Marcus nodded and looked around carefully to see if the trail of tracks was continuing outside the sewers as well. Thankfully, it did so.

"Indeed Mr. Shryke. You are correct in your assessment. There are tracks, indicating that beasts have come from the left. Let's go that way. Stay sharp people and try not to draw too much attention. We don't know where exactly we've ended up and it's best to keep a low profile until we can locate our quarry".

[Riddick]

Stepping from the duct, members of the cell were now somewhere much deeper in the hive - lower mid-hive perhaps. The grate creaked loudly as it opened. It was faint compared to the roar of the crowd.

The frenetic howling of an inhuman beast filled the air followed by a very human scream of pain. The crowd's decibel level only grew. The manner of location the cell had tracked their quarry to was now beyond question:

The Red Circus.

The still legal, yet most questionable diversion for the masses. The blood soaked flooring where human and beast alike slaughtered each other for the crowd's amusement. A life of toil, of rote and repetition, often grew arduous. For some, prayer, alcohol, or illicit substances weren't enough. Some needed the sweet release of violence - of another's suffering to quench their own dissatisfaction with their lot in life.

Near the entrance, just off the walkway the acolytes now stood, pleasure girls moved, seductively intent on gaining attention. The blood raised by the pits often remained pumping until sated with less fatal distraction - a fact well known by the house owners who had allied with the Red Circuses they could not buy out.

A rotund man wearing a leather apron stood before the door. He was the doorman and the sign nearby, painted in sloppy red on scrapboard, stated it was 15 thrones a head to enter. There was a tiny hand written disclaimer that said the owners were not responsible for anyone fool enough to jump into the pits or by any other wounds suffered during the show.

The doorman's apron seemed to have dried blood on it, but it could just be fake and for the effect had on the more 'tourist' uphivers. His head was shaven and aside from pants and the apron, he wore nothing else aside form what appeared to be ganger tats. A pistol sat on his hip. Something large caliber to match his meaty hand.

The pleasure girls eyed each of you, regardless of gender, with suggestive moves. The door man looked at you with dead eyes, looking through you and the hive itself, waiting for the next fee to collect.

The Red Circus itself rose ahead of you, apparently sitting hundreds.

[LCP]

Stopping at the entrance to the tunnel, Shryke fixed his eyes on the burly doorman. Keeping his voice low, he spoke in the acolytes' code.

<Hired muscle. Unlikely to be well-paid.>

Turning his head, he glanced at Marcus.

<Tell him we are looking for someone inside. If he demands his fee, the rest of us show our weapons. He will not resist.>

He nodded towards the doorman and the pleasure girls.

<Then we can question them about the man in shadow.>

[Calimos]

Stopping at the entrance to the tunnel, Shryke fixed his eyes on the burly doorman. Keeping his voice low, he spoke in the acolytes' code.

<Hired muscle. Unlikely to be well-paid.>

Turning his head, he glanced at Marcus.

<Tell him we are looking for someone inside. If he demands his fee, the rest of us show our weapons. He will not resist.>

He nodded towards the doorman and the pleasure girls.

<Then we can question them about the man in shadow.>


Marcus nodded at Septimus' comments.

<Affirmative. Will begin approach, see how it turns out. Stay sharp.>

Then, with his hood pulled over his head, he approached the doorman and spoke in a low but heavy voice.

"We want in. Not interested in the spectacle. Just looking for someone inside".

As he spoke, Marcus discreetly handed over a sum of 5 thrones to the doorman and continued.

"I was told to give you this and you'll let me and my friends go find him".

[Riddick]

The large man looked down at Marcus, his head unmoving. He glanced over the other four behind and back to the Arbitrator with the same thousand meter stare.

He took in a long, deep breath as if bored. He spoke up, just loud enough to be heard. "You hear that?" He nodded his head towards the Circus behind him. Human cries of battle and pain erupted alongside beastly sounds of fury. "Them screams aren't comin' from just the dregs and the convicts. That's the last cry of a fool." He said as a bloodcurdling cry resounded from behind the entry. "Fools that think they're the only one with a gun around this cesspit and fools who don't do their job."

He finished with a grimace on his face. His emotionless face barely shifted as he considered the situation.

"You give me 20, and I'll see all five of you through the gate."

[ChaoticSky]

Aria shied away from the bold pleasure girls, ducking under her hood in embarrassment. If one was to be technical, she wasnt old enough to be in places like this, not that places like this tended to care one way or another. Alas, the woes of a proper upbringing.

Belatedly, she realized the others were talking while she was busy trying to avoid catching anyones attention... and she had missed the conversation, so she followed along, rummaging around for the headcost... only to have one of the others try to bully their way in... much to her chargin, even she knew better than to try something like that! Thugs were well paid not to be intimidated so easily, flashing a Writ might wet their pants depending on how much sense they had, but purely brute force was their bread and butter, and not something they would so much as bat a eyelash at. So what if we had guns, everyone in there probably had guns! Even the naked people!

But having failed to speak up when it mattered, she kept her trap shut, criticising a plan in hindsight was pointless, instead she nudged Marcus "Can we just pay him the 20?"

[Calimos]

Marcus looked twice back to his companions. Quick, almost imperceptible nods and whispers told him all that he needed to know, before responding to the doorman, handing to him 15 more thrones as he asked. A prudent course of action, given the fact that they did not want to draw unnecessary attention. Not at this point at least.

"20 it is then. We shall be on our way, then, right?".

[Riddick]

The rotund man nodded by way of reply as he opened the gate, sliding the lock bar away from the portal. "In ya go." He eyed each of you as you passed. "Mind the first few rows," he added with a smug grin.

The doors opening felt like opening the flood gates of volume. The roar of the crowd and the bellows from the Red Circus floor soared to ear splitting heights. The stands were nearly full it seemed. The occupants looked to be mostly lower-mid-hivers and underhivers. The occasional throng of spire-born stood out among the mezzanine alcoves. Their faces were often covered but their retinue of sycophants and guards made their presence obvious even if their identity was not.

As the cell moved into the Circus, the reason for this madness loomed in the center of the structure. A great caged dome covered the recessed center. Within the cage, a trio of heavily muscled men fought against what appeared to be large insects. They moved with surprising agility on top of six limbs. At roughly human size, their topmost appendages were great mantis pincers. By the bodies sprawled across the sand covered floor, the trio of humans had begun with seven. Only one of the xenos creatures littered the floor in death. Whatever the xenos were, they worked together. The three of them moved quickly around the three men who fought back to back desperately. As one creature lunged at a man, drawing his defenses up high, another creature tore his feet out from under him and dragged him, screaming, away from the remaining two humans.

The crowd's pitch rose yet again at such displays.

The battle looked quite one sided now. The two beleaguered men exhausted, fighting with the strength of men who want to live a mere second longer.

Another of the men was swarmed upon by the xenos. As he was rent apart, pinned against the pit wall, his blood showered the first few rows of observers closest to the massacre. The meaning of the doorman's condescending warning became apparent.

The cell had followed the tracks all the way to here, this Red Circus, this pit of savagery. The next step lay in their hands.

OOC:
The xenos creatures look like this but with an additional set of limbs.
https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQWnRSe5XTxwmwczvFQICPIvdEzYzDaB OUtllqq1JC8SgXkN-E8RA

[LCP]

Pausing for a moment where the tunnel opened into the seats, Shryke looked down at the scene in the pits.

"I think it's quite possible we've discovered where the killer got his beasts," he said. "We should find out where the animals are kept. And how a discerning gentleman might go about obtaining some for himself." His gaze drifted to the upmarket seating on the other side of the arena. "Whoever owns this place, I think they might be found over there."

He looked over at Gideon. "If you'd care to talk to the nobles, I'll inspect the animal pens. There's bound to be someone down there who knows something."

OOC: Suggesting we split into two groups: one group to find the proprietors, the other to talk to animal handlers/look at the actual creatures they have down there.

[Calimos]

Marcus acknowledged, with a nod, Fenria's recall back to base, and turned to greet the newcomer.

"Sergeant Pyrrhus. Welcome to the cell. It's good to have you with us. If it seems appropriate to you, could you accompany Mr. Gideon and Miss Aria, here, while they get in contact with those individuals of noble lineage who are apparently interested in the spectacle?

Mr. Shryke and me will go, in the meantime, to check on the various beasts contained here, in an effort to discern any additional clues on those that we hunt, as well as on any procedures that would be normally followed to acquire any of these, if one wanted to do so. We'll be in contact via micro-beads. Use designated channel 14 and encryption to cell-cipher as dictated by the situation".


*******

"Mr. Shryke. We can move on if you wish".

Proceeding alongside Septimus, Marcus kept his eyes and ears open, scanning, beneath the cover of his hood, his surroundings, for any tell-tale signs of beasts akin to those responsible for the massacre in the temple. His gaze wondered around, checking as well the various individuals that were inside the Red Circus establishment, in case anyone resembled - even vaguely - the "Longshadow" who was apparently behind this series of gruesome killings. Keeping a hand to his auspex, inside his pocket, and another close to his concealed sidearm, the arbitrator moved on.

OOC


If any of the following rolls is relevant to our situation and investigation, I'll just put them here to save time. If not, just ignore them.

Common Lore (Underworld) (for information on what kind of organization might be dealing with the trading of such beasts, the organizing of those tournaments etc, other than the Red Circus, or who could be supplying the Red Circus via underworld channels etc, as well as to get a chance on better interaction with the various "shady" characters around this fine establishment) : 1d100 vs 50 (Int + Foresight bonus)

Inquiry (for asking around, to locate those responsible for handling the beasts as well as gather any additional details on them etc) : [roll0] vs 50 (Fel + 10 + Talented)

Tracking: [roll1] vs 60 (Int + Foresight bonus + Skill at [+10])

(probably with some difficulty penalty, since the place should literally be swamped with tracks by people and beasts, but I'll roll anyway and you can determine the difficulty afterwards Riddick).

Awareness (for anything strange/out of place/spot Longshadow perhaps etc): [roll2] vs 70 (Per + Auspex bonus + Skill at [+10])

Tech-Use (to utilise my Auspex, in order to spot things not normally detectable to human senses alone).

[roll3] vs 60 (Int + Foresight bonus + Combi-tool bonus)

Search (for any pertinent clue/overlooked detail): [roll4] vs 50 (Int + [No time for Lengthy Searches I think, so no +30 bonus] + Skill at [+10])

[Destro_Yersul]

Sergeant Pyrhuss Kerberos scratched the stubble on his cheek, regarding Marcus and the rest of the cell with interest. "Well, It'll be good to work with you, I hope. I've heard what we're here for, so no need to fill me in on that."

The sergeant was a big man, and the guard-issue flak armour he was wearing only made him look bigger. He didn't seem to have acquired a lot of personal equipment, after he was removed from his regiment. He wore guard-issue dog tags, a guard-issue sidearm, and a guard-issue lasgun on a strap over one shoulder, but the gun wasn't his primary armament. His primary weapon was a flamer, of an unusual pattern. It was bulkier and more solidly built than the standard pattern, litanies of function worked into its construction. The weapon was simple, but well made, a flexible coupling joining it to a fuel hose, that itself connected to a pair of gently sloshing fuel tanks worn on the soldier's back.

Pyrhuss turned to look at the circus, revealing a standard grenade launcher magnetically clamped to the side of one of the tanks, its chambers empty. The sergeant was a walking armoury, and he looked like he knew how to use it.

1

"I don't like it," Said the soldier quietly, peering down at the cage match. "Filthy xenos. No place for things like that in the Imperium, not if I have anything to say about it."

Smiling grimly, Pyrhuss turned to look at Marcus. "I'd rather come and see where these come from. More of a fight down there, if it comes to it, and maybe if we figure out who's bringing them in, we'll be better placed to put a stop to it."

[Riddick]

The three men move for the pens below the cage. As the three move down the walkway, in front of the crowd and next to the cage perimeter, some individuals look warily at the three - particularly the man bearing the no-nonsense flamer. Whispers and pointed fingers aim their way until the last man in the cage is struck down and rent apart. A timely diversion for the crowd who leap to their feet in violence fueled exultation.

One of the insectile creatures lunges at the cage as the men pass, trying to get at them. It's mantid pincers slash into the reinforced webbing as the is clings to the cage wall. The cage wall holds up just fine but is marked by the creature's attack. Some of the onlookers laughed nervously or drunkenly. Others yelled in fright.

The acolytes made their way towards the lower level. Behind them, the creature chittered frenetically at the cage as they walked away.

Underneath the section of the stands dedicated to the balcony alcoves, lay the ramp to the lower level. Walking down the ramp, oddly unhindered by personnel, the roars, calls, and yells of men melded into an confined cacophony that grew with each step down. A worker passing by the entrance stopped to point Reinhart towards the man in charge.

The area was littered with cages, some with simply bars, some enclosed with only a sliding section to dump food in. In other areas, men with vat-grown muscle sat or trained - pit fighters. Menials pushed carts by filled with what appeared to be the chopped up remains of those that fell above. The contents of the cart were tossed casually into pens and cages.

Creatures and xenos of several varieties lay in pens all around.

A large man, followed by an Ogryn bodyguard, saw the three coming and moved away from the conversation he was having.

"Who are you? Why are you down here?" He started off right away, trying to put them on the defensive.

OOC:
The Inquiry Test success will be paid forward here. Please ask the questions you seek an answer to.

Awareness Tests for all in the pens area please plus any other actions you'd like to take.

Marcus:
Your auspex reported back an odd find - there's a lack of mass density in a smaller section of the ground, below your feet, nearby - there's another room nearby that is not visible. It seems to be right under one of the many completely metal cages which blocks sight into the cage aside from tiny air holes all over the construction.

[LCP]

Shryke replied without missing a beat. The tech-priest had somehow modulated his voice - gone were the human tones of before, replaced by a stern, metallic grating noise.

++THIS IS AN INSPECTION, CITIZEN. STATE YOUR NAME AND POSITION++

[LeSwordfish]

Instead of taking the stairs down, Gideon began making his way up, heading for the most expensive seats and best view- exactly where the owner and his cronies would be sat.

Once he'd reached the expensive seats*, he walked over to a likely-looking couple and peered into the rings.
"The hagfish are putting on a good show," he announced with the easy confidence of the upper classes, and turned to the couple. "How did...oh, what's his name. How did he procure them?"

**presuming nothing goes wrong.

[roll0] Inquiry vs 52-42 fellowship+10 peer (Nobility)

[Calimos]

Marcus looked around, checking the various cages, before being alerted by a strange reading on his auspex. Evaluating it properly, he let Septimus initiate the inquiry, and whispered - via his microbead - in the acolyte's coded language.

<Be advised. Hidden room nearby. Below one of the cages.>

He awaited the man's response to Septimus' initial question, to proceed and press him further with additional ones, according to his answer.

[Destro_Yersul]

Pyrhuss glared at the cages as they passed, swinging his flamer up to cover the creature in the main pit as it lunged at them. Old habits die hard, but the sergeant managed to refrain from pulling the trigger. It was likely going to be his job to look intimidating, and the coghead's job to do the talking. There were so many Xenos down here... it wasn't right, not in the slightest.

"These things," he asked a passing worker, gesturing at the cages with his flamer. "where do they come from?"

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus, & Kerberos:
The worker next to Pyrhuss did not glance up from his task of chopping meat, "The underhive. The desert. The jungles of Tenebra. Another planet? I don't know man, I jus..." he at last looked up and saw who he spoke to. His eyes slid to the flamer and it's backpack of flammable ammunition. He cleared his throat and went on. "I just cut the meat, sir. Ingron will know... if he tells ya."

***

The burly man crossed his thick arms in front of chest as he answered, eyes squinted in scrutiny.

"My name is Ingron, Cagemaster of this Red Circus, which is up to date on all papers to my knowledge. And as you can see we use only the edict approved creatures for the entertainment we provide." He motioned vaguely to the numerous cages lined up that were filled with raging beasts.

Behind Ingron, the Ogryn detected the mood of the situation and growled as he stepped closer to Shryke, massive spear-prod in hand. Other workers stopped to watch, some with wary glances. Others moved hands to the their lower back or put hand to handle of pit tools as improvised weapon. The pit fighters had all halted their bantering and training to watch the situation evolve.

The Cagemaster put up a hand to stall the Ogryn as if it had a habit of escalating uncertain situations. "Now you tell me, what's you name and position? And what, specifically, are you here to inspect?

Gideon & Aria:
The spire couple had not heard Gideon approach behind them. The man halted in mid boast, the lightly dressed woman sycophant at his side cut her forced giggling short. The pair looked to the confident man who inquired.

Not wanting to look the fool, the man chimed in right away, eager to show his knowledge of this shady hobby of his. Boasting of such a trip to the low-hives to take in a Red Circus always made for a crowd gathering tale at the next gala event. The other nobles would be suitably impressed by the man's daring and roguishness.

In the cage below, the next event began. Several reptilian, six legged creatures raced from an entrance into the pit. The creatures rushed out as a pack to surround their lone opponent - a thoroughly gene-enhanced human who literally swelled with muscles. He wore no armor but his back held an elaborate array of chem-injectors. The crowd roared the pit fighter's name, Kron, with relish - obviously a crowd favorite. More importantly, the pack hunters surrounding the gargantuan man were most certainly the same species seen in the pict-feed of the Cathedral murder.

But these kind were different somehow. More animal. Their skin, claws, and eyes a more natural color.

The spire-born set his mostly empty tumbler down as he replied. "Scorzita, Lord Flavio Scorzita is the name that escapes you," he answered smugly. "He owns several of the pits on Scintilla, but his primary holding is a vice of another nature." The pompous young man carried on, stroking the woman's upper thigh next to him. His smug grin nodded over the pit walls to the neighboring pleasure house.

The young man picks his tumbler back up and speaks snidely before taking a sip. "I'll be seeing the man himself soon I imagine, at the annual auction I'm hosting." He said as he turned away from Gideon, practiced in rude dismissal.

OOC:
Please make a +10 Scrutiny Test, both of you.
-Gideon gets the +20 for Etiquette and Peer but it looks to be untrained.
-Aria gets -10 for her Sheltered Upbringing trait but she has it trained.

[ChaoticSky]

Gideon & Aria:
Aria followed Gideon up, as she was in no hurry to get close to the creatures possibly responsible for the murder, though she was no social flower, she hoped she might beable to help on the intellectual side... there was a intellectual side right? Following along with Gideon and draped in her cloak, one could probably imagine whatever they wanted about her, which suited her just fine. He also saved her from trying to bumble her way into a conversation with the aristocrats, which was fortunate, as everything shed thought of saying sounded like a horrible idea... now that shed had time to give it a second thought.

The name, Lord Flavio Scorzita, was filed away into her mind, to make use of later, as was the fact that the beasts in the cage seemed less.... unnatural. Something that could prove pertinent later.


Feel free to apply any of these that work for information. Most probably dont, but never know!

Int 53
Forbidden Lore (Heresy +10)
[roll0] vs 63
Scholastic Lore (Occult)
[roll1] vs 53

And the obligatory Scrutiny roll
Scrutiny +10 (-10 for sheltered)
[roll2] vs 40

also, if possible, id like to roll (or you can do it) to identify the noble and/or his tart. Perhaps Blather to keep him engaged with us.


Oh boo! missed by 4 >_<

[LCP]

Shryke & the Meatbags Marcus & Kerberos

Shryke's hand flicked beneath his robes, and his dataslate appeared in his iron talons. Taking the stylus in his other hand, he appeared to painstakingly take down the man's name.

++INGRON. CAGEMASTER.++ he spoke aloud as he wrote. Seemingly satisified, he finally looked back up at Ingron. ++I AM ADEPT SHRYKE. REPORTS HAVE BEEN MADE OF ILLICIT AUGMENTATIONS AT BLOODSPORTS VENUES IN THIS DISTRICT. I REQUIRE A FULL ROSTER OF THE ANIMALS AND GLADIATORS KEPT AT THESE PREMISES.++

Keying a few deft commands into his data-slate, Shryke turned it round so Ingron could see. It displayed his credentials as a member of the Mechanicus – an arcane jumble of identifiers and numerical privileges.

++REST ASSURED YOUR COMPETITORS WILL BE EXAMINED IN TURN.++

OOC: I'm assuming there's no difficulty with Shryke proving his genuine identity as a middle-ranking tech-priest. If there is, I'll edit.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
"I'll have to ask him, then." The workers weren't really likely to help, then. Ingron would be the one to speak to. The name sounded vaguely familiar, for some reason, but Pyrhuss couldn't place why. Keeping his flaner lowered so as not to alarm the Ogryn, he stepped up behind Shryke.

Edict approved, indeed, the sergeant thought, looking around again at some of the cages. It shouldn't be allowed, as far as he was concerned, but then Kerberos was not one to question Imperial Authorities.

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos:Ingron took a look at the displayed rank, his arms still crossed. He took a deep breath, his eyes squinted in thought. As if coming to a hidden conclusion, he reached to his waist and removed a data-slate from his belt pouch.

"Here's the roster as of yesterday." He looked at you defiantly. "It's constantly changing, you understand." Above, the crowd roared and the ceiling pounded with the stomps of their feet.

"Like that." He said to make a point. "I imagine that's the sound of Kron reducing that Broscoraptor count," he sneered. "What illicit augmentations are you referring to? As you can see, we don't have the workshop here to add any illegal additions to a cyber-construct. Nor do we have the specialized labor do do such a task." Ingron finished, waiving his hand around the room dismissively.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

++THAT IS FOR US TO DETERMINE.++

Taking the list, Shryke ran his eyes down the roster before transferring a copy to his own slate.

++WE ARE LOOKING FOR EVIDENCE OF PROSCRIBED GENE-WORK. THE MODIFICATIONS NEED NOT HAVE BEEN CARRIED OUT ON-SITE.++ Handing the slate back, he looked around at the cages. ++A BODY WAS FOUND IN THE UPPER DISTRICTS. WE REQUIRE CHRONOLOGICAL RECORDS OF ESCAPES AND SALES TO THIRD PARTIES.++

Not missing a beat, Shryke gestured absent-mindedly at Marcus and Kerberos behind him.

++THESE ARE MY ASSOCIATES. PLEASE INSTRUCT ONE OF YOUR COLLEAGUES TO GIVE THEM A TOUR OF THE BEASTS KEPT HERE.++ Pausing for a moment, Shryke let his outstretched hand drift over in the direction of the guardsman and his conspicuous flamer. ++THE SERGEANT WILL PURIFY ANY DEVIANT STRAINS WE MAY DISCOVER.++

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos:Ingron's jaw clenched tight, a vein bulged from his neck. "Fine. Have it your way." He gestured for a nearby man to step closer. "Porthal will answer any questions you have. For the record, we don't sell to third parties. We only move beasts between Circuses as needed. Everything we get dies in the pits - no escapes." He glared at Shryke. "You'll excuse me, I have a business to run." He turned and stomped off without another word.

Porthal was a rather thin man, mostly clean considering the others that worked here. He had the look of a man who saw to keeping the gears running smoothly rather than being a gear himself. His middle aged eyes glanced to each of you.

"Right than, let's start here, yes?" He headed to one side of the pens. "Here are our Dusk felids. Nothing terribly special about them I guess." Inside the cage, three jet black, feline-like creatures stalk back and forth, a fourth lays on the cage floor staring at all of you. Their eyes are even darker than their fur somehow.

Porthal pauses, unsure if he should keep moving. After a few moments, he moves along to a fully sealed cage. "He slides open a view port to allow the "Examiners" to see the ursid within. The large creature's head snaps to the view port as it opens. The port still has bars across it, but that doesn't stop the creature from slamming it's jaws into the bars in an attempt to get at the cell members. "Sepherus Secundus northern Rock-Mauler," Porthal adds simply.

A few cages are being pushed back from the pit holding the mantid creatures that were seen fighting on the way in. In one cage, two of the creatures chewed on what was left of the pit fighter they had dragged into the cage with them as they left the pit itself. In the other cage, the third mantid sat, almost cross-legged, looking with curiosity at the acolytes. It's overly large eyes had no irises, but it was clear its head tracked them as it cage was dragged by. It tilted its head to the side giving it an almost subdued appearance as it placed a mantis pincer gently on the crossbars of the cage.

Porthal saw the group's focus. "Fedrid Skin Takers. As clever as they are deadly." He pointed to the gentle looking one. "That one, it played this same trick on one of our new lads. Poor fool thought it liked him."

The man began moving on to the next cage without finishing the tale.

And so it went, the man went down the line of cages showing healthy and usually viscous creatures. It was at the last set of cages that a few creatures began to look familiar. The six-legged reptilian species from the pict-feed of the murder although these particular ones looked different - more wholesome.

Porthal went to pass the sealed cage that Marcus had indicated quietly to the other acolytes. "And this one is empty. Here we have the pit fighters themselves..." He walked on hurriedly, pressing the pace.

From the catwalk, at the end of the pen area, Ingron glanced at the tour's progress as he spoke to other workers. The Ogryn stood near the man's side, glaring at the cell.

OOC:
All of the creatures seen, although far from humanity's grace, don't seem to be out of place in this establishment.

Scrutiny Tests, please.

Feel free to add in tests as you like.

The roster indicates that a full grown Carnosaur was held at this Red Circus for a week before being shipped to another, nonspecific Circus.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

Shryke looked attentively at the animals they were shown, holding silence for the most part. As they passed the six-legged reptiles, he asked a question.

++WHAT ARE THESE CREATURES CALLED?++

Listening quietly to the answer, he only nodded. Thumbing through the roster, he tried to locate the creatures by name. Stopping at another, he turned the slate around so that their guide could see, pointing at its name: the transferred “carnosaur”.

++THIS ORGANISM. PLEASE DESCRIBE ITS APPEARANCE.++

With seemingly no more questions to ask, he continued with the tour. It was only when their guide tried to breeze past the “empty” cage that he raised a single metal finger for the man to stop.

++OPEN IT.++

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos


Marcus stayed silent, watching carefully each and every cage and specimen, while also keeping an eye - every now and then - to the Ogryn nearby. As they approached the cage with the six legged, reptilian creatures, his interest was piqued and he briefly stopped there, examining them more closely and asking Porthal, their guide, to provide them with additional details on them.

"Quite an interesting specimen, sir. Could you be so kind as to give us some details on them? Also, while they do seem to be in top shape, have you ever noticed any cases of sickness among them, or would you happen to know of what changes might occur, if and when these creatures get sick?"


Awaiting for an answer, he couldn't help but noticed how their guide passed the suspicious - according to his auspex readings - cage. Listening to Septimus's remark on it and his request to open the cage, his alertness level increased and his hand quietly rested on his cloak, just above his Carnodon holster.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shruke, Marcus and Kerberos

"Explains where they all come from," The Sergeant remarked at Porthal's naming of the creatures, "How do they get here?"

Pyrhuss, obviously, didn't need to go for his weapons in the event this turned ugly. The pilot light on the flamer was already lit, flickering quietly to itself.

[Riddick]

Gideon & Aria:
The man's statement struck Aria. Something was off about what he said, not uncommon when dealing with spire-born. Boasts, jests, and under-handed slights were their bread and butter all cleverly veiled behind civility.

The battle continued down below. Kron, the crowd favorite, moved much faster than someone of his bulk should be capable of. His muscles and veins looked distended as he swung, turned, and hacked all about. He had the look of a vat-modified, chem-addled brute.

The man had already coldly turned his back on the pair of acolytes, returning to the entertainment and the woman at his side. Realizing that they yet remained, he glanced over his should, not making eye contact. "Was there something else?"

Below, Kron stomped on a creature's head, crushing it like overripe fruit. Two more sex-legged creatures hung from his back, claws and fangs embedded in his flesh. The brute didn't seem fazed.

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos:

Marcus:
The man's experience and skills served him well. To be good at deception, one must understand the nuances of it. This makes it all the easier to identify a falsehood.

When Ingron volunteered the fact that the Circus had no tech-savants or cyber-workshops on hand to augment their creatures, he was leading the acolytes to innocence proving conclusion. A conclusion that may be fact but doesn't not address all types of augmentation.

Reinhart recalls a time when he questioned a man suspected of killing a guild executive's daughter. When asked, he stated that no children were even allowed in his establishment, a ruse of ignorance when the daughter was in her late twenties. The man was later determined to be the killer.

Shortly after Ingron's statement, he claims that no sales are made and all creatures die within the cages. As he spoke, his eye brows rose, a hint of a smirk passed across his face twice - all subconscious quirks that signify deception. When a fair amount of facial movement is not 100% under the owner's control quirks come to light.

Shryke looked attentively at the animals they were shown, holding silence for the most part. As they passed the six-legged reptiles, he asked a question.

++WHAT ARE THESE CREATURES CALLED?++

As they approached the cage with the six legged, reptilian creatures, his interest was piqued and he briefly stopped there, examining them more closely and asking Porthal, their guide, to provide them with additional details on them.

"Quite an interesting specimen, sir. Could you be so kind as to give us some details on them? Also, while they do seem to be in top shape, have you ever noticed any cases of sickness among them, or would you happen to know of what changes might occur, if and when these creatures get sick?"

Porthal answered with an air of a tour guide, happy to display his knowledge. "These are Broscoraptors. Pack hunters from Regulus." There were two cages of the creatures. The man indicated the crowd's roars. "More of these are fighting in the pits as we speak."

He turned to Marcus at his query. "Certainly! They're not terribly dangerous on their own but work as a team to drag prey down. Excellent climbers I'm told. They would use the trees of Regulus to locate their prey or to hide from larger predators."

"Sickness? Well we did have three that contracted something from the local water. Their scales turned brownish and they could barely move. They pulled through, however, with some cleaner water. Why do you ask?"


"Explains where they all come from," The Sergeant remarked at Porthal's naming of the creatures, "How do they get here?"

If Porthal heard the comment he continued on, as if he hadn't heard it.


With seemingly no more questions to ask, he continued with the tour. It was only when their guide tried to breeze past the “empty” cage that he raised a single metal finger for the man to stop.

++OPEN IT.++

Porthal's eyebrows rose, and he looked unsure for a moment. He glanced to Ingron above on the catwalk who gave a slight nod.

The cage crossbar was slid open heavily and the door swung open. The overwhelming, nauseating scent of near-rotting and raw meat surged from the container. Inside was a pile of chopped up remains of the combatants - beast and human alike. They seemed to keep a measure of their 'food' in here. The auspex was clear however, this was the spot but the cage's metal bottom looked only to house the rank pile within.

Porthal eyed the acolytes carefully, gauging their reaction. A quiet tension seemed to permeate the pen area before Ingron yelled for everyone to get back to work.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
Sergeant Kerberos reacted instinctively, pulling the gas mask he wore around his neck up and snapping it into place across the open face of his helmet. Now faceless, his voice attenuated by the mask's filters, he gestured at Porthal with the flamer.

"I asked you a question, Porthal. I don't like repeating myself. How do the creatures get here?"

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos:Porthal's eyes grow wide in fear. "I...I honestly don't know! We use whatever comes in. The boss makes the arrangements to get them shipped here. I just memorize the facts provided about them to build up the crowd, I swear!"

As some of the acolyte's look to Ingron when the 'boss' is mentioned, he simply shrugs and speaks. "Not me, I'm afraid. Higher up the food chain. Scorzita, the Malfian, owns this Red Circus and a few others in addition to most of the pleasure houses on Scintilla."

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
Pyrhuss nodded, lowering the nozzle of the flamer. He wanted to say something like 'was that so hard?' but... no, that wouldn't be professional. They were supposed to look the part of inspectors, weren't they? So the sergeant stayed quiet, looking over the various creatures in the cages around them.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

The tech-priest looked dispassionately at the pile of meat.

++ANIMAL FEED?++ came the question. ++THESE CONDITIONS ARE UNSANITARY. WHY IS THIS MATERIAL NOT REFRIGERATED?++

He took down Porthal's answer with his stylus, seeming to take extra care to write it down verbatim.

++OFFICER++, he said, looking round to Marcus and his ever-present auspex. ++SEARCH THIS CAGE.++

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos


Marcus thought about the answers given to them already, by Ingron, as if playing them back in his mind, again and again. He then recalled his past experiences and multiple lessons on the science of questioning and of understanding those small, yet ever-present, tell-tale signs of deception, that were almost involuntarily displayed upon facial expressions and general body language of those under questioning.

He smiled to himself, as he recognised those signs on Ingron. Further questioning of him would certainly be warranted, after the tour of this "establishment" was concluded. At the moment though, he had other matters to take care of.

He listened carefully to the answers and descriptions provided by Porthal. The creatures were described as excellent climbers. That could explain their capability to go up and down the sewer ladders without much problems. Their sickness symptoms though, were quite different than those they'd seen. Those specimens, that devoured the cleric, most certainly did not suffer from any sort of impediment regarding their movement.

Hearing the mention of a Malfian owning the Red Circus, Marcus was not surprised, for those hailing from Malfi were quite strange and suspicious individuals as far planet reputation went and he felt a cold shiver down his back. From previous investigations and various reports that he had personally studied, Malfians, especially those of the noble variety were notorious for their involvement in certain, quite unsavory activities and quite more on top of that.

As Porthal opened the door to the suspicious cage, Marcus thanked the Emperor for having the presence of mind to keep his respirator in place, while investigating establishments like this.

He nodded to Septimus, admiring the detached approach and apathic behaviour displayed by the Tech-Priest, in this part of their investigation and proceeded to search the cage as indicated. After the initial examination, he made a show of consulting his auspex, then tapped the cage floor with his boot, before exiting the cage.

"Unsanitary conditions of food storage or not, there's something else amiss here. My inspection indicates some sort of hidden compartment, below this cage. Could you see to it that the floor or the whole cage, if need be, is removed and we gain access to said compartment?"

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos:
Porthal sees that the 'Investigators' have discovered the hidden area and his eyes snap up to Ingron in silent warning.

The Cagemaster reacts like a cornered beast and yells.

"You've pushed too far, gentlemen! I'll warn you once, forget what you think you found and get out of here NOW. I cannot let this continue!"

He looks terrified, like an animal at the verge of being dragged down. And it didn't seem like the acolytes themselves were the cause.

The workers, nearly a dozen of them, once again move for weapons - unsure of what was taking place. The pit fighters too looked at odds. At first, they thought the Acolytes intruders but after hearing their role as Investigators, they seemed less sure of themselves or the consequences of their actions.

The Ogryn however, was very much on team Ingron and it strode to the end of the catwalk to get closer to the cell members. It's massive footfalls ringing through the metal gantry.

The tension skyrocketed in the pens area. Hands were on weapons. Men stared, wide-eyed, for the indication of violence. Even the creatures could sense the standoff. Some paced wildly at cages edge or roared and slammed into gates.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

Shryke looked up at Ingron as if he were a bee that had got into the office. Keeping his eyes on the cagemaster, he murmured a brief sentence to the others in the Acolytes' code.

<Suggest fit respirators>

Reaching up over his shoulder, he turned the valve on his own rebreather, starting up the self-contained air supply.

++MR INGRON++, he called up. ++THE CREATURES WE ARE LOOKING FOR HAD BEEN ALTERED IN WAYS ABOMINABLE TO THE OMNISSIAH. IF THIS BEHAVIOUR CONTINUES, YOUR GUILT WILL BECOME THE DEFAULT HYPOTHESIS.++ He looked around at the bristling room. ++AS WILL THAT OF THESE CITIZENS, AS YOUR ACCOMPLICES++

The tech-priest's gaze returned to the cagemaster.

++INTERACTION SO FAR INDICATES INTELLIGENCE ABOVE SUB-NORMAL. DO YOU HONESTLY BELIEVE NO-ONE KNOWS WE ARE HERE?++

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus, and Kerberos
"Ingron," The sergeant turned, bringing the flamer to bear on the closest target. "You have no choice as to whether this continues or not. Tell your men to stand down, and we'll keep this quick. Resist, and I will not hesitate to burn you and your stable to the ground."

The pilot light flickering ominously, the gas-masked soldier let his words hang in the air, daring the cagemaster to test them.

That seems like an intimidate test, which should be vs. 65, unless Ingron believes he's got something scarier than a flamer around.

[roll0]

[LeSwordfish]

Posh-boy and shy-girl

"An auction?" Gideon asked, with a practiced brow-furrowing. "Am I to take it you... procure these animals? Are there other sellers?"

"I'll be frank, sir, I'm interested in purchasing animals such as these. I-well, me and my associates- have considerable reserves to draw upon. Is that not correct, scrivener?" Gideon turned to Aria just long enough for her to nod, furnished her with a wink, and returned his attention to the noblemen. "Considerable resources. But I do believe I have other commitments over the short-term. How often are these auctions? When was the last, for example? Did Scoriza attend that one? I presume he is a frequent fixture at them."

[roll0] vs 42+20 for etiquette and peer.

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus, and Kerberos


Marcus surveyed the area once more, as the tensions rose high, the imminent escalation almost tangible in the foul air of the circus.

<Affirmative. Escalation imminent>.

Marcus made a step forward and stood tall, eschewing his calm and reserved attitude and rising to his full height, that was partly concealed by the cover of his cloak and his intended behaviour so far.

In his hand, the badge of the Adeptus Arbites was proudly displayed and his voice, altered somewhat by the respirator, resounded in the room.

"In the name of the Immortal God Emperor and the Golden Throne of Terra, cease and desist, all those who are in violation of the sacred Lex Imperia".

He turned to Ingron, his very stance and demeanour radiating authority, although, even in this direct course of action, the words of the former Warden of Divisio Immoralis were laid carefully and included enough deception to shake the loyalties of the workers and pit-fighters present on scene. Old habits die hard after all.

"Ingron. Quit your pathetic efforts at deception. You do not fool anyone. They do not work and you make a fool of yourself. Not something I'd like to say in front of your employees, but your eagerness to wrap this up the "hard" way, has forced me to do so. You may not be the bigger fish in this business, like your employer, whose name you were so kind as to provide us with, but you still are a big fish for this establishment. You spoke a lot about specific methods of forbidden cyber-enhancements, where we didn't mention any at all, but merely questioned you on the subject. You also sport all those telltale signs of a poor liar, in your face. On top of that, you seem truly disturbed that we appear to have discovered your secret compartment down here. Why is that Ingron? Why so edgy and so quick to resort to violence? Violence against Imperial servants Ingron? Do you have any idea what this means? Do you have any idea what this makes you?

Do these workers here know of your abominable acts? Do they know of your shady dealings? Of your trading with vile forces that perpetrate crimes against the Ministorum and the Imperium as a whole? Do these poor souls even know that you keep secrets from them, far too terrible to uncover? Do they Ingron? Have they ever thought about what foul creatures you may hold, secretly from them, damning them as well through your vile deeds? And what would you think they'd do if they found out? Side with you and risk their very souls or back up legitimate Imperial authorities and be absolved of their - unwitting - participation to your illegal and immoral activities?"

Even as he spoke, the hardened arbitrator's mind still raced. He clicked his microbead, conveying to Gideon and Aria a signal code of imminent danger, as per the Acolyte's cipher. Then he quickly searched for another frequency, the one he himself had used, back in his days as a Warden of Divisio Immoralis, to contact his colleagues in the Divisio for cases when urgent backup was needed. To this frequency, Marcus broadcasted the Divisio Immoralis designated distress call, an old cipher, that was in force, back in his days. There was a chance, if only a slim one, that one of his old comrades, or someone who had spent many years in the Divisio, may hear it and respond. After all, some of them owed him from those days and their bonds of fellowship were strong, at least on his side.

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus, and Kerberos:Ingron's rage split open and rather than overt violence, he was overcome by fearful acceptance. The Ogryn looked to Ingron expecting an invitation to bloodshed. Instead, he was met by a shaking head bearing defeated eyes. Confusion overtook the Ogryn but he stood fast, his hostile demeanor diminished like a calmed canine.

The workers and pit fighters alike stood still, unwilling to fight anyone but also unwilling to be the first to leave the area.

Underneath the false floor to the secret cage, lay a small stairwell into a poorly lit room that was rent from old hive metal and bulk. Within the room, a single cage, heavier and more sturdy than the rest, sat.

The room's single light didn't reach the cage and from the shadowy depths blinked three sets of sickly yellow eyes. Malice filled growls filled the air at the unwelcome guests.

To he that looked first, the crossbar securing the cage looked firmly in place.


Gideon & Aria:
The man seemed to revel in his position of knowledge as he replied. "These beasts? Throne, no." He laughed and the woman joined in on cue.

"I refer to the House Krin Auction - the annual event where my great house hosts the more exclusive of the sector's finest," he remarked snidely. "Truth is, I have no idea where Scorzita secures his host of expendables. Rumors abound, mind you, but no one knows for sure."

"The man takes a very personal interest in his ventures. Handles most of the deals made himself."

As if suddenly interested, the man turned away from the battle to face Gideon. "I am remiss in my manners. What did you say your name was?"

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus, and Kerberos
"Good man. Made the right choice, there." Pyrhuss kept the flamer levelled, placing his back against the outside of the empty cage.

"Stay back while we conduct our investigation," he said to the pit fighters, "It'll look better for your involvement if you don't interfere."

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

++VERY GOOD++, said Shryke. Stooping over the ladder, he looked back over his shoulder at Kerberos. ++SERGEANT, WATCH OVER THESE CITIZENS. ENSURE THAT NONE OF THEM LEAVE THE ROOM.++

With a squeak, he turned the valve on his respirator again, shutting off the supply of air. It looked like the halc-gas wouldn't be needed today.

Descending the ladder into the gloom with his staff in hand, he turned his shoulder-mounted illuminator on and pointed its beam directly at the cage.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon and Aria

"Gideon Van Haal. A pleasure. You would be...?" He shakes the proffered hand firmly. "Our generous host seems a most unusual man. I think i should get in contact with him. Does he have a private box?" Another roar from the crowd below, and a spray of blood over the nearest onlookers. "While i have no doubt that house Krin's auction will boast the finest and most exclusive of beasts... the great unwashed do so relish a chance to become a little more unwashed. These beasts, for example. What are they? I must purchase some."

[Riddick]

Gideon and Aria:
The man replies with a confident gaze after a momentary pause to think on the Van Haal name. He didn't seem to recognize it. "Noctus Sal Krin." He left out any title or position which usually accompanied a noble's introduction - a habit to show worth without bragging outright.

"Scorzita won't be here, I assure you. He lives out in the blasted desert among Hive Tarsus' depths. He will certainly be at our auction in Sebellus, however. Anyone with standing will be. Our auction is an annual spectacle. Entertainment and cuisine to satisfy the senses." He pauses to pour another drink for himself and Van Haal. Offering him the drink, Noctus takes in the finale of the bout below. "These creatures? They're called Brosco... Brascalraptors if I recall." He sounded unsure. "Something to that effect. They are a curious breed, aren't they?"

Kron was a beast, an augmented demi-god of the cage. Versus numerous predators, he stood triumphant holding the shattered remains of a Broscoraptor aloft by the neck. Around the pit fighter, the bodies of the crushed and rent xenos were scattered. The crowd roared as Kron roared back - his body covered in lacerations and dripping blood. The chem-infusions and vat-muscle went a long way towards minimizing the effects of such wounds it seemed.

The Krin noble turned back with a grin. "Where was I? Ah yes, the auction will host more than just beasts gathered from across the sector. There will be all manner of rarities and master crafted art to be bid upon." He took a moment before pressing further. "Forgive my ignorance of your lineage, but where are you from? Will you or your bloodline be attending the auction? I could introduce you to Scorzita if so. He's a hard man to meet otherwise." Noctus raised his glass in recognition and took a sip. He waved his hand at the other seats nearby, offering them to the pair of acolytes.

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos:
Within the hidden room, the illuminator clicked on, bathing the room in light. The cage shuddered as its denizens threw themselves into the bars as if in defiance of their discovery. The cage held the very same creatures seen on the pict-feed at the Cathedral. Two.... altered Broscoraptors and the single, heavier creature witnessed before.

Their rage was intense, almost sentient. Unlike a feral creature who's temper came and went with varying levels of satiation, these three collectively stared at the acolytes through restraining bars and roared with abject hatred. Their sickly yellow eyes never left their discoverers.

The rest of the hidden room was empty. Only these creatures, these tools of terror lay within.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos

The beasts slavered at Shryke, and Shryke stared back. Here was a pretty situation. Three live murder weapons in a cage, and no way to shift them. One thing was clear: the creatures couldn't be left here. Who knew when their master would return?

Keying his commbead, he spoke to the others up above.

“Mr Reinhart, if you would be so good as to come down here. Sergeant Kerberos, remain on guard.”

When Marcus descended, Shryke was waiting with the beam of his illuminator still trained on the cage.

“These are the ones,” said the tech-priest, keeping his voice low. “For the good of every Ministorum preacher in the Southlows, I think they need to be contained. Can you get a message to the local enforcers? Tell them that we have Father Herstromm's killers, and need them securely transported to the Tricorn.”

He looked back up the ladder, making doubly sure they were not being overheard.

“On that account, it might be wise to speak only to a senior officer. Best not to alert the rank and file to the fact that the Inquisition are involved.” He paused. “We don't let the animals out of our sight until the authorities arrive, and we don't let Porthal or Ingron leave until we do. We take them for questioning.” Another glance to the ladder. “Not that we should tell them that until the time comes. Ingron looks ready to bolt.”

[LeSwordfish]

Team Talking
Gideon smiled. "That's an extremely generous offer, my friend." He sat himself next to the noble. "I may just take you up on it." He turned to Aria. "Scrivener, contact my office. Tell them...
<do you know that name? tell cell information gathered. give, request status.> Chop chop." He turned back to Noctus. "Apologies. Trader Cant. I do so hate the language, but the family insists upon it. A fine tradition from the rogue trader days. I was cancelling my next few day's appointments. Now we have holdings on Scintilla mostly."

If needed, a decieve roll for firstly the lie about the trader cant and secondly the lies about the house lineage. [roll0] vs uh, 72 again?

Gideon is lying about his house lineage because i haven't thought it up yet.

[ChaoticSky]

Babble and the Legs

Babble had been studiously copying down the entire exchange in her dataslate, then going back and erasing the unimportant and annotating the important bits during lulls in the conversation.


++Lord Flavio Scorzita? - Person of interest.
+Acquires creatures through unknown means - Check import records?
+Will be at Krin Auction.
+Known to deal in Xenos lifeforms.
+Resides in 'blasted desert among Hive Tarsus' depths' - Why is it always deserts?
++House Krin
+Annual action, possible dealing in Xenos lifeforms.
+Noctus Sal Krin - Pasty.
++Incident
+Now that I've thought about it, creatures seemed warp tainted variations on the ones here- Originated in pits? Possibly sourced from Krin or Scorz. Dealing in Warp tainted creatures is Very Bad. Alternatively they could have been tainted after purchase. Must see sales records.
++Misc
+Remember to submit all of this to the Tricorn once our work is complete, will be Very Interested and tie up loose ends.


She startled slightly when he suddenly spoke to her, but she gave a nod, and responded, hoping to que him onto something that had been bugging her "<And the Brute?> yes my Lord." Then reached up and tapped the bead in her ear. Hopefully the other's had their microbeads in. She turned away, and if anything, shrunk deeper into her hood as she spoke softly;

A soft voice would whisper through Marcus' and Septius's Microbeads; "<Come in? This is Babble, we have learned a great deal, our dealer will be at a large Auction, a annual event hosted by House Krin and we have a noble to do the introductions for us. Whats your status?>"

[Calimos]

Aria's and Gideon's microbeads crackled to life, as a response from Marcus came through.

<Glad to hear that. Situation here barely contained. Killer beasts discovered. Tensions are high though. Stay put. Do not jeopardize your progress. Local enforcers may arrive on scene soon.>


Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos


<Coming down right now. Sorry for delay, had to respond to the others.>

As Marcus descended in the underground cage and looked upon the creatures, a feeling of dread almost threatened to overwhelm him. He was never good in dealing with any sort of animals, nor understand their disposition at all, but this was certainly disconcerting. Their menace was almost tangible in the air and never seemed to subside.

He nodded to Septimus and spoke in a hushed voice as well.

"That was a good find, thank the Emperor. They must be contained and if need be terminated indeed, though this may not be our call to make. Our Lord certainly needs to see those. I already took the liberty of contacting the Divisio Immoralis, using an old distress signal, a while ago, to prepare for potential escalation in the situation. I will repeat my call if necessary and also send a message to the local enforcers if you want.

We must also secure both suspects, just as you said. I'm quite versed in various interrogation methods and we may have the chance to acquire further useful information. We should wrap this up quickly and dilligently, lest they try to escape or resort to hostilities, as you mentioned, since there's also that auction, mentioned by Aria a moment ago, which we might have to attend.

Sending the message now".

Marcus first broadcasted the message to the Divisio Immoralis frequencies, then to that of the local enforcers.

"This is Arbitrator Marcus Reinhart speaking, serial number ZX-1589, Code black, requesting the attention of senior rank officers. This is an emergency."

After directed to the vox-link of an officer of adequate rank, Marcus continued.

"Requesting assistance on the establishment of the Red Circus. Father Herstromm's killers have been found and secured, requesting a vehicle with considerable storage capacity to transport them securely to Tricorn Palace".

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos
"Yes, sir." Pyrhuss stayed where he was, at attention near the door of the cage, and regarded the employees of the circus with suspicion. Ingron was the likeliest to do a runner, and was also likeliest to actually know something. In light of which...

"Anyone like to explain those?" The sergeant asked the assembled workers, jerking his head in the direction of the cage. "They aren't up here with the others, which means one of two things. Both of those things are bad for anyone who knows something and doesn't say."

[Riddick]

The Red Circus

Marcus:
"This is Arbitrator Marcus Reinhart speaking, serial number ZX-1589, Code black, requesting the attention of senior rank officers. This is an emergency."

After directed to the vox-link of an officer of adequate rank, Marcus continued.

"Requesting assistance on the establishment of the Red Circus. Father Herstromm's killers have been found and secured, requesting a vehicle with considerable storage capacity to transport them securely to Tricorn Palace".

A gravelly voice came back. The connection was strained this far down-hive but moved quickly through vox-relays. The grainy reply came, "Understood Arbitrator Reinhart, Ident confirmed. Requested vehicle's and two squads en route. ETA: 15 minutes. Hold fast, brother."

Pyrrhus:
"Anyone like to explain those?" The sergeant asked the assembled workers, jerking his head in the direction of the cage. "They aren't up here with the others, which means one of two things. Both of those things are bad for anyone who knows something and doesn't say."

A young worker, barely halfway through his teens spoke up. Porthal glared at the kid but he continued, undaunted.

"They came in real early this mornin'." He looked around to the other workers almost apologetically. "They weren't alone. A...uh man was with em. He looked ancient, an elder, with weathered skin and looked like a recyc-vent's gust could knock him over."

The kid's eyes grew distant as he recalled what he saw. When he spoke again, it was almost in a hushed whisper. His eyes did not regain focus as they stared through the trooper's legs, into the ground. "He wasn't right. Like the creatures down there." He nodded to the secret cage. "Those things padded alongside the old man like they was close." His eyes regained focus as he tried to clarify what he meant. "But not friendly, like a married couple that quietly hated each other but went through the motions because they have to."

"The things went right on down, into the cage below with only a pointed finger from the man. He didn't say anything to anyone."

Several seconds passed and the kid's face grew uneasy. "There aint many folks here at that time of day. We're just feeding the animals and cleaning up the stands. The old man saw me, I was the only one down here, and he put a finger to his lips, as if to say shhh, you saw nothin."

"The animals though, they didn't like the man neither. They all started whimperin or scratchin at their cages, tryin to get away from him. Throne, even the Rock-Mauler pissed himself."

The boy finished. He looked haggard both from the work he got stuck into and possibly the circumstances of the day. Porthal had edged away from the secret cage while the kid was talking. Above, Ingron's hands gripped the railing, his knuckles white as he listened in on the monologue.

Gideon and Aria:
Noctus went on, asking questions about the Rogue Trader history, suddenly interested as if his previous pompous attitude was forgotten. Their conversation carried on.

Below, Kron stomped from the cage, content with yet another victory. Circus menials, young lads from the underhive without a better way to earn a living spread out across the cage, gathering the dead and clearing the pit.

When they were finished, the next bout did not start right away. The crowd grew restless and started throwing curses and food alike. As if on silent command, several joy girls entered the cage and began strutting around, advertising their wares and the services of the establishment across the street alike. The crowd's jeers turned to base hooting and yelled comments.

The Red Circus seemed to be having some difficulties below. The schedule was in disarray and the joy girls did their best to keep the crowd content and in their seats.

*****

Nearly fifteen minutes had passed and even the show taking place below had begun drag on the crowd. They were here for blood and they wanted more.

The jeers started up once more until two Arbite vehicles pulled up outside the Circus. Several black armored men began to file into the structure. The crowd, particularly the less honest breed who may have forgotten business with the law, grew rowdy.

The crowd's mood turned from agitated and seeking escape from this predicament to outright panic as the cage below and the stands alike were populated by the creatures meant for the pits. Something had happened below and what seemed like all of the creatures were now loose. The joy girls below were set upon by more Broscoraptors, jet black felines pounced on the backs of fleeing onlookers, and a raging Ursid pounded towards the Arbites.

Chaos now reigned here. Lives were being snuffed out and for what? Panic gripped the crowd, nobles and commoners both, as they all sought to flee from this Circus of blood.

Noctus was at a loss, the situation, actual danger, not the imitation of it, was too much for him. He started murmuring to himself before looking to his new friends with wide-eyed horror. "What...what do we do?!" He whisper-hissed.

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos:
Time passed waiting for the Arbite reinforcement and transport.

The bout that was going on as the Investigators worked finished. A massive human walked down the cage ramp triumphantly covered in blood - both his own and the fallen's. He swelled with vat-grown muscle and seemed to be coming down from a cocktail of battle-chems. His muscles visibly quivered from the effects and his veins bulged from his frame. He entered the pit fighter area to the respectful murmurs of "Kron" from the other fighters. Apparently the man was well known even beyond his heinous appearance.

The walking death dealer said nothing and simply sat down at a table, his back to the rest of the pens area and saw himself to water and a meal already waiting for him.

After a few minutes of no questions being asked, no arrests being made, the workers of the pens and Ingron himself started to piece it together. The Investigators were waiting for something, likely backup.

When a wall-mounted vox-ponder blared to life in the pens area, the notion was confirmed. +Arbites! Pulling up outside!+ Said someone from a better position than the bowels of the Red Circus.

The workers and pit fighters burst into yelling. The Circus may be a legal venture, but many of its lot didn't end up here by legal means - few chose this life.

Ingron pulled a device from his pocket and spoke down to the acolytes below in an oddly calm but distant demeanor. "I warned you. I did." The creatures below were contained but the man seemed terrified of what their discovery would mean for him. This man, someone who made a living by having the worst and the strongest of the sector tear each other apart, was almost in shock at the consequences he foresaw for himself.

He looked down at Pyrrhus and simply blinked before pushing a button on the device. At once, all of the gates to the cages swung open.

If the workers and and fighters were agitated at news of Arbites they simply lost it now. Everyone scattered, making for exits.

Porthal was bowled over by a fleeing pit fighter and knocked to the ground. The teen that had spoke to Kerberos edged closer to the trooper looking at him pleadingly. The remaining Broscoraptors run up the cage tunnel and screams of joy girls filled the tunnels in reply. The Dusk felines bolted up the ramp to the stands as did other creatures. The Rock-Mauler went right out the way the acolytes came in. Marcus heard orders being barked over the Warden channel shortly after as their men entered the Circus into this mess.

More creatures began to chase fleeing workers and pit fighters - likely too many to be handled by the three men. Kron never moved, enjoying his soup like nothing was happening. Ingron bolted down the catwalk and towards the stands. His Ogryn followed after him looking back at the acolytes to see if they give chase.

The mantids seemed to talk special interest in the Investigators and chittered excitedly as they moved for them.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

Striding out of the cage, Shryke passed his staff to his left hand. As if by sorcery, his bolt pistol appeared in his right: the laser sight centred over the thorax of the nearest mantid, and the weapon fired.

"Reinhart!" he called, in his own voice. "Ingron!"

OOC: Shryke's actions are

Half Move to come alongside Kerberos. If possible, he'll walk into point-blank range.
Free Action to draw bolt pistol (Quick Draw)
Single shot at nearest mantid.
Free Action to switch back to the staff (ready to parry)

[roll0] (BS 42 base, +10 for red-dot sight, +10 for single shot house rule, +10/30 for short/point-blank range).
[roll1]+5, Pen 4

[ChaoticSky]

BattleBabble and The Nobles In Distress (couldnt help it, i won Init :D)

The warning served her well. Forewarned was forearmed afterall. Scanning for trouble, she spotted the first signs of it long before the general mess escalated. A novel sensation for her to be sure! She drew her boltpistol smartly and placed a hand on Gideons arm, speaking plain to get his attention "My lord, Trouble, we must pull back. Now-" But alas, her warning came too late, as chaos erupted around them.

-

Mildly miffed that her opportunity to play hero was spoiled, her attention was drawn to the Krin noble, and she sighed inwardly, before answering him; "Live. Please follow us Lord Krin. It is important that we avoid this crowd." Pulling on Gideons arm, towards the far edges of the stands, her moment of nerve ended and the usual stress combat instilled in her returned in full force. Holy throne! she could Die... quite horribly. It manifested in a flow of words. Hense Babble. "Crowd Dispersal patterns suggest that the panicked mob will surge towards the door the predators will follow and the mob will be caught between the beast and the arbites many will be trampled and many more will be killed by the opposing forces on either side to live we must head toward the far edges of the arena where we will make lessappealing targetsandbe lesslikelytobecaughtinthecrossfire thiswillalsogiveusacommanding view and a highvantagepointandclearlinesofsight if anyofthebeastshappento persue us."
Fullmove away from the action and towards the highest part of the stands, we are not action heros here, the important thing is to survive, and protect our pasty. So, since none of the things are after us, lets step aside and let them sort themselves out. ^^

Also, yes, the lack of punctuation and wordmixing are intentional. Translation for babblespeak: less appealing targets and be less likely to be caughti n the crossfire this will also give us a commanding view and a high vantage point and clear lines of sight if any of the beasts happen to persue us.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
Pyrhuss nodded at the teenage worker's testimony. "Your information is noted. Thank you." The sergeant didn't know what it meant, but it had to be important somehow, and if the creatures here were scared of the man... Well, somebody to watch out for. Then the arbitrators arrived, and all hell broke loose.

"Get into an empty cage and shut yourself in," he instructed the young worker. "We'll deal with things out here." Turning to the mantids, the Sergeant triggered his flamer, letting the blazing mix of prometheum and toxic chemicals spill over the creatures, firelight flickering in the blank lenses of his gas mask.

Pyrhuss is shooting the mantids with the flamer, and then retreating into the empty cage himself so that they can't gang up on him and drawing his chainsword. Ag test at -20 for the mantids to avoid the burst of flame. Do you want me to roll damage seperately for each?

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon and Aria
His carnodon flicking into his hand with a trained twitch, Gideon checked the slide and the clip, before scanning it over the stands.

"Stay with my associate, Mr Krin. She's not just a pretty face. One does not serve a trader for long without being able to outfight some underhive scum and beasts." He grinned, and switched to the cell's language.

<Protect Noctis. Best lead yet. Will help cell>

<Sitrep. Rescuing our lead. Help needed? Can cover arena with rifle.>

Following Aria for now. If Noctis is stunned into inactivity, pulling him.

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos



The Red Circus

Marcus:

A gravelly voice came back. The connection was strained this far down-hive but moved quickly through vox-relays. The grainy reply came, "Understood Arbitrator Reinhart, Ident confirmed. Requested vehicle's and two squads en route. ETA: 15 minutes. Hold fast, brother."


"Roger that brother. The Emperor Protects".


*******





Striding out of the cage, Shryke passed his staff to his left hand. As if by sorcery, his bolt pistol appeared in his right: the laser sight centred over the thorax of the nearest mantid, and the weapon fired.

"Reinhart!" he called, in his own voice. "Ingron!"



"On him. Keep the beasts at bay".

As Ingron opened up the cages and all hell broke loose, Marcus immediatelly rushed up the stairs. Evaluating the situation in a few seconds, he sent a warning over the vox-link to the Wardens to take cover and keep themselves from harm, while if at all possible focusing to detain a man accompanied by an Ogryn.

Then he turned towards Ingron, drew his trusted sidearm faster than the eye could see and pointed it at the back of the retreating scumbag. A red-dot danced on his back, like a mad dancer in tune with all the carnage and panic
that was taking place in the Red Circus. After that a roar was heard and Marcus awaited to see if he'd got his target, while keeping an eye open for those blasted Mantids that were approaching them frighteningly close and fast.

OOC


- Half action to move up from the cage and stand beside Septimus and Kerberos.

- Free action (Quick Draw) to draw my Carnodon.

- Half action to shoot Ingron with it.

[roll0] vs 60 (BS 40 + Standard Ranged attack 10 + Red Dot Laser Sight 10)

[Riddick]

Kerberos' flamer whooshed to life as a jet of fiery destruction shot forth. The Mantids were agile, dangerously so, however. Two changed directions instantly and skittered away from the flames with ease, the third merely jumped and turned its charge into a flying leap over the flames. Taking a bead on the leaping Mantid, Shryke's bolt shell rocketed from the barrel, spiraling perfectly towards the beast. At the last second, the xenos ducked under the shot, its alien agility serving it a second time in as many seconds.

Reinhart's weapon snapped up and fired with only a moment's aim at the fleeing Ingron. The large caliber shell tore into his lower back, just above the pelvic bone. Ingron's torso was in horrendous shape but the shot wasn't instantly lethal. The Ogryn bellowed a protective cry and moved in between the shooter and his master as the two continued down the catwalk. Blood ran freely from Cagemaster as he ran but adrenaline and terror overwhelmed the pain.

The Mantids converged on the 'Investigators' Two charged outright while the third effortlessly jumped onto the top of the neighboring cage. Using their location to their advantage, the two Acolytes held the cage entrance denying the enemy their full numbers as they rushed in.

Outside the cage, Porthal ran back into view from the cage ramp with several Broscoraptors moving back down the ramp.


***

In the stands, Noctus scrambled after Gideon and Aria as they moved higher. Nearby, a brute of a creature rampaged through the crowd. It looked like a primate of some fashion. It towered over the fleeing people and flailed around itself with meaty arms. Several people were caught by the sweeping blows two or three at a time. They'd fly through the air crying out in pain before crashing into the cage below - their bones shattered. Others would simply crumple to the ground from the brutal bludgeoning force.

The creature was moving against the tide of bodies rushing for the exit.

And towards the Acolytes and their charge.

At the northern end of the stands, the three felines continued to pounce on fleeing people, seemingly content to catch and kill, as if for sport, than to eat.

Across the arena, The massive Ursid was shot several times by the arriving Arbites. Although wounded, the beast plodded forward now enraged further by its injuries.

The Red Circus was a disaster. Its name would have a different meaning come the following day as bodies littered the stands and blood ran down the steps towards the cage below.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
The sergeant swore, bringing up his chainsword to deflect the Mantid's claws. The horrible things had managed to avoid the gout of fire, and now it would be down to tooth and blade. Letting the flamer fall to catch on its strap, Pyrhuss revved the blade, adamantium teeth whirring loudly. Let them come: he'd be ready.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon and Aria
Gideon watched the simian begin to rampage through the stands, and with some deliberation drew his prized rifle from its case and clipped it together.

"Tell me, Noctis." He began, aiming. "Do you hunt? Because I think we're on the finest hunting trip the sector can offer here."

He fired, and smiled grimly as the shot hit home.

<Sitrep, for thrones sake!>

[Calimos]

<Fighting off beasts. Herstromm's killer beasts secured in cage. We hit Cagemaster Ingron, but he's running to escape with his Ogryn bodyguard. Pin him down if possible. Get to Arbites team and keep your contact safe. The Emperor Protects.>

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos


Marcus watched for a second, as the Carnodon's bullet connected with Ingron's back. He saw him falter, but not fall and the Ogryn was protecting him. Gritting his teeth, the arbitrator fell back, into the secret cage to deny the approaching Mantids any advantage on their attacks, by staying in the open.

Retreating back into the cage, he contacted the arbitrators.

<Look for Wounded man running with an Ogryn. He's priority target for detention as soon as immediate lethal dangers are dealt with. Reinhart out>.

Next to him, both Shryke and Kerberos were locked in deadly combat with the beasts. Marcus took a deep breath, leveled his sidearm at one of the Mantids, aiming for a moment, before firing to his torso.

[LeSwordfish]

<Need an ID on Ingron. Also confirm: needed alive?>

[Calimos]

<Large, burly man. Ogryn bodyguard. Already wounded. Needed alive, for interrogation>.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria and Gideon
Aria saw the Simian beast turn their way, and felt her shoulders slump, "Aww, Oh Throne. Why do statistics never work out?" she asked rehotically, her tone miffed in the manner of a librarian who found a book in the wrong section... tinged with a healthy bit of terror. It goes without saying, she lifted her boltpistol, and eyed down the barrel, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration.... and pulled the trigger.

BS test!
[roll0] Vs 35(BS)+10(RedDot)+10(Halfaim) = TN 55

And damage if that somehow hits
[roll1]
Tearing Reroll
[roll2]
Pick Highest

Pen 4, Type X

[ChaoticSky]

Sweet googly moogley would you believe this happens so rarely i had to look up the rules for it?
Righteous Fury
Confirmation
[roll0] vs 55

if so, then damage
[roll1]

Aw, oh well.

[Riddick]

Aria and Gideon:
From above, in the stands, Aria's view of the creature nearby was clear. Her bolt pistol barked. The shell flew over the heads of fleeing Imperials, and tore into the simian's right arm, just below the elbow. When the tiny warhead detonated, it tore raged chunks from the appendage.

The creature roared in pain and rage as it spun around to identify the source of it's wound. The roar didn't waiver when its beady eyes focused on the petite girl. And as its feral bellows grew in ferocity, Gideon's well crafted rifle sighed and recoiled as a silenced shot flew from the barrel. The bullet entered through the creatures open mouth, exiting out through the brain stem. The Simian's wrath was instantly muted.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, the gargantuan creature dropped in place and began rolling down the stands, carried along by its significant mass alone.

Next to them, Noctus answered Gideon dumbly, his mind ruled by shock at present. "Hunting? No, no. I've never even held a weapon..." He trailed off dumbly, his eyes losing focus.

Across the caged pit, the rampaging Ursid was put down by concentrated fire from the arriving Arbites. Shortly after, a pit fighter who appeared to be dosed up with Frenzon was also put down as he charged at the law men. Whether the pit fighter knew who or what he was trying to maim is a justifiable question.

Nearby, to the northeast, Noctus' lady friend fled with others around the north side of the cage, past the jet black felines. Two of the creatures had taken to feasting on a kill. The third watched the humans hurry by and moved after them, instinct driving it to give chase.

From the entrance below, the doorway that led to the pens area below, two large arachnids skitter forth. There sudden appearance causes another round of panicked shrieking from the fleeing Imperials. The two creatures drag down a passing man, injecting him with their mandibles. He spasms immediately and turns a sickly color.


Shryke, Marcus, and Kerberos:
At the threshold of the cage, the three acolyte's exchanged lethal strikes with the xenos predators. As one deftly ducked under the Tech-Priest's servo-claw, Marcus blew a sizable hole through the creature's carapace. The beast staggered briefly, hissing in pain. In response, the heavily wounded Mantid surged forward, trying to knock the Tech-Priest off his feet. The beast, unfamiliar with the principles of the Adeptus Mechanicus, received a surprise at the augmented bulk and sturdiness of Septimus. The xenos rebounded and was knocked from it's own feet, hitting the ground hard.

Pyrrhus' and the second Mantid exchanged a flurry of blows, none landing squarely as of yet. The top of the cage made a deep 'THUNK' as a creature, the third mantid, landed on top. Leaning over the lip, it struck out with one of its alien pincers intent on spearing Kerberos up high. The appendage sliced through the air, missing the Sergeant entirely. As the claw retracted, it dug into the metal casing creating an unsettling sound.

Outside the cage, men were pulled down by loose beasts or pit fighters fought back to back against aberrations from the underhive. Porthal's cries rose to a new pitch as a massive centipede creature scuttled after the man and struck out at his retreating back.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon and Aria
Gideon unslung his carbine from its hip holster and flung it to Noctis. "Now you have. Safety catch is the switch on the side. Squeeze, don't pull. Just wash it down with lasbolts, Aria will do the killing. Don't shoot anything she doesn't shoot first."

Gideon returned his attention to the stands, scanning his gun across in search of something to shoot. The felid chasing the nobles caught his eye, and he trained the dot of his sight on it.

"I never liked cats." He muttered, and took the shot.


Quick draw covers readying a weapon- would this include throwing Noctis the carbine? If so, half action aim. If not, half action pass carbine.

Half action shoot the felid, called shot to the head. [roll0] vs 55+10 single shot, +10 RDS( +10 aim, +10 accurate, if i'm allowed to aim and pass Noctis the carbine in the same turn.) So vs either 65 or 85.

Damage [roll1], penetration 3, +2 damage if it's a critical, against the head. Accuracy damage: [roll2][roll3]

Talents make range and Called Shot penalties obsolete. Man, i was worried a sniper would be unhelpful in this campaign, and the first fight's in a stadium.

So either seven or ten damage to the head, barring a dodge.

To clarify, i'm attempting to order Noctis to suppressing fire any targets Aria shoots at. That should buy us some time. Also, i'm hoping it will distract him from the fact that i'm about to gun down a man.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos
The sergeant, at the least, was happier than the techpriest. Fighting for his life was something Pyrhuss was used to, by now, and the Mantid things were very clearly enemies of mankind. Suffer not the Xenos to live. The sergeant swung his chainsword in a figure eight, adamantium teeth biting at chitin.

So, the sergeant is attacking the one Septimus downed, using a swift attack. Since you houseruled that into a half action, he'll aim as well.

[roll0] - vs 61, again. I lose the single attack bonus, but I gain it back for the target being prone. Huzzah.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

Watching with approval as Kerberos made a bloody mess out of the Mantid that had tried to knock him down, Shryke stepped quickly over its twitching remains, blissfully unconcerned by the insect limbs that snapped at him as he left the cage. Taking three swift strides into the open, he turned and sighted on Ingron's fleeing bodyguard. Hopefully a bolt in the back would get its attention.

The red dot of the laser sight found its mark, and the bolt pistol barked out a single shot.

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

Marcus saw with satisfaction the Mantid being wounded by his attack and decided to press on with it, taking into account the fact that his comrades seemed to handle their respective opponents pretty well so far.

In a swift motion, the arbitrator drew his mono sword from the scabbard that rested on his belt, and after studying his admittedly quite agile opponent, attacked, with a low slashing strike, intent on wounding it further or even finishing it off.

[ChaoticSky]

Babble and Gideon

Aria's eyebrows shot up, she was shocked that she had managed to hit the thing, but all well that ends well, right?

She nodded as Gideon passed the nobel off to her, more or less, while he focused on shooting, and she supposed that was a good idea, luckey shots aside, the two of them would have a better chance of hitting a target, by way of volume of fire if nothing else. At a glance, none of the other beasties seemed to be approaching them, the cats were after nobles and the spiders (oh she thought she had left those behind on that Deathworld shed ended up on once!) were currently having a manshake. The bearthing was dead, and the glander, if he was that, was busy running into a arbites formation, the brilliance!

No need to draw the attention of any of them by flinging explosives in their direction.

Leaving them alone and safe... for now. But she figured it would probably be a good idea to keep the noble distracted by immediate survival, he looked likely to lock up completely if he got a moment to think about it. So, she thought she might strike up a conversation. Gesturing towards the spiders with her gun "Like most arachnids, these seem to feed by paralysis, then liquefying the insides and sucking it out as a nutrient rich soup. its is not unlike the reclamation process used by the Mechanicus to produce Soylens Viridians, a standard issue guard ration for many regiments supplied by Munitorium standard templates..." And on she went.

Eh, lets call this a Full aim on the spiders, just to be useful, otherwise im distracting the noble. Babble style. :smallbiggrin:

[Riddick]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos:
The Sergeant stepped forward, his chainsword revving through the air. Even prone, the Mantid was as agile as ever. It rolled aside from the first, brutal, overhand swing. Its carapace scraped against the flooring as it moved suddenly, sparks from the chainsword striking permacrete lit the area. Pyrrhus' next swing was circumvented as the creature quickly jammed its pincers into the ground and jerked itself from the path of the falling blade.

By the third swing, its agility was spent. Death came for the xenos in the form of a growling chainsword. Pieces of carapace, ichor, and chitin were scattered about with its quick demise. A keening wail filled the air.

Shryke stepped past the surviving Mantid, unconcerned. The predator lashed out to no avail even as Septimus' bolt pistol barked to life. The mini-warhead sailed through the air, passing cages and workers alike, before punching through the metal grating surrounding the stairwell - millimeters from where his red-dot sight hovered. On the other side of the grating was the Ogryn's raised leg - in mid-step. With an explosive blast, both demi-human and bolt shell roared their respective wraths. A ragged chunk was torn from the Ogryn's leg yet it pressed on, intent on protecting its master loyally.

The same air that the bolt shell had passed through now bore aloft the final cries of Porthal as he was devoured, messily, by the over-sized centipede.

Back in the cage, Reinhart drew his sword and swung for xenos blood. The blade hit but merely gouged a line through the creature's carapace. Feeling their advantage slipping, the two predators lashed out wildly but struck nothing.

The tides were quickly turning.

Babble and Gideon:
Above, in the stands, Gideon's aim proved faultless yet again. The feline's bounding run turned quickly into retreat. A nasty hunk of flesh that was once its ear hung from its head. It yowled in pain as it fled and the other two abandoned their meal, following on instinct. The noble woman continued her panicked running, none the wiser of her near demise.

The trio of beasts leapt onto the stand's upper edge, seeking a way down.

Closer, the arachnids split up. All of the stand's occupants in this area had fled for the exits by now leaving just the two acolytes and their charge on this side of the Red Circus. One dragged its meal lifelessly back into the dark tunnel. The other skittered rapidly up the stands, its chitin legs clicking as it went. It moved up and out of sight, over the stand's ledge, in mere moments.

Noctus looked from the carbine to Aria with growing focus. It looked like he would live! THIS would make a grand tale in the spires, but... he had to make a better account of himself if he was to have any hope of gaining standing over this. The man scanned the weapon, familiarizing himself with it.

He looked back up at Aria with a curious look on his face. "What is..." he cocked his head. "What's that noise?" he asked.

The air was yet filled with screams of the Circus goers, many of whom's blood now lent the arena half of its name. Beasts cried out in pain and rage from below. The collective sound of feet pounding the stands as men and women ran was also notable.

And... something else.

[Destro_Yersul]

Skryke, Marcus & Kerberos
"Someone get after Ingron," Pyrhuss growled at Shryke and Marcus. "I can take these." His point was punctuated by a kick at the dead mantid, before the sergeant whirled around and struck at the second on his level. It was a feint, though, and the true attack came moments later, on the end of a lunge with the humming chainblade.

feinting! [roll0] for the sergeant, and
[roll1] for the mantis.

Regardless of the results for that, Pyrhuss does a standard attack afterwards.
[roll2] vs 52, I think. Only getting the single attack bonus right now.
[roll3]+8 for damage

Success on the feint, followed by a bad miss. Damn.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Reinhardt

Shryke frowned. Ogryns that wouldn't come back to be decapitated; centipedes that insisted on eating valuable witnesses. It seemed no-one in this place would cooperate.

He wasn't about to waste bolt shells on an overgrown chilopod. Shoving the pistol back into its holster a little harder than was necessary, he took his staff in both hands as he advanced on the many-legged thing. Maybe some of Porthal's cortical matter could still be salvaged from its innards...

OOC: Free action to change weapons around with Quick Draw; Charge Attack with servo-claw.

[roll0]
[roll1]+10 damage, Pen 4

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos



"Someone get after Ingron," Pyrhuss growled at Shryke and Marcus. "I can take these." His point was punctuated by a kick at the dead mantid, before the sergeant whirled around and struck at the second on his level. It was a feint, though, and the true attack came moments later, on the end of a lunge with the humming chainblade.


"On it", responded Marcus and moved carefully out of the cage, disengaging from the fight with the intention to pursue the wounded Cagemaster.

OOC


Using the Disengage Full Round action. Next round, barring exceptional circumstances, I'll most likely head towards Ingron as fast as possible.

[Riddick]

Babble and Gideon:
From behind the acolytes, over the ledge that marked the top of the stands, the sound of clicking could be heard.

And it was getting closer.

The arachnid that had went over the ledge wasn't trying to escape. It was trying to approach the acolytes unseen.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon and Aria

<Aria, my dear, i hope to the throne you can deal with that.>

Gideon wasn't even looking as he said that, swinging his rifle round the grounds, looking for the ogryn. It shouldn't be too hard to find one, should it? The slab of flesh caught his attention, and he scanned the stands around it. There indeed was a man running alongside it.

This must be Ingron. Taking him down without killing him would be tricky. A shot to the leg would be best. The knee was the classic location for inflicting pain, but too risky. The veins were clustered in the knee: a shot there could lead to the man bleeding out or dying from shock. Instead, Gideon dropped his sights, aiming at the meat of the lower leg. Break the tendon and the leg was useless.

Range, several hundred meters. Wind: minimal. Round loaded: manstopper. Correct for extra drop.

Gideon blocked out the sound of the arena around him, blocked out the arachnids crawling up from behind, gave himself three full seconds to aim, and fired.

[ChaoticSky]

Babble and Gideon
Aria blinked, and then she sighed again as she listened to the sound cricking its way closer. Throne damned spiders, how dare they grow too big to be stepped on! It wasnt natural! "I hope so as well." she murmured back to Gideon, hefting her heavy pistol and sweeping it back and forth along the rim, hoping to see the spider before it struck

[Riddick]

Babble and Gideon:
Little else existed for Gideon aside from the trigger and Ingron. A trained process honed to near perfection. The bullet, leading the target, tore through the Cagemaster's calf muscle. Crying out in pain, the man dropped to the ground, partially out of view now from the sniper. His head was visible, eyes clenched in suppressed pain he reached out to the Ogryn.

The creature dumbly came to a stop and turned back around for his master. Child like concern was the mask that the Ogryn wore as he doubled back.

Behind the sniper, the arachnid returned. It skittered on top of the ledge. Noctus, with forced bravado, fired off a salvo at the beast.

And hit nothing. Aria had but a moment to react before it would strike...
Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos:
In the pens, Kerberos now faced two of the Mantid Stalkers alone. He stood steadfast against the xenos, such is the role of a true soldier of mankind. The predator that had been atop the cage hopped down to encircle the Sergeant. The other lashed out in yet another flurry of strikes, achieving nothing. As the other landed, its pincer ripped across Pyrrhus' flak armor.

Marcus stepped from the skirmish, his task serving the greater good in running down Ingron and the information he carried. Which way, however? Across the catwalk? Well that way could be barred. Up the ramp that they entered the pits from? It may take longer to get to the exit, but it was guaranteed.

What of the beasts?

As if in answer, Septimus drove his mechadendrite clean through the massive arthropod. Seriously wounded, the simple thing did only what it's inferior mind bid it do: attack back. Meekly, the insect's chitin mandibles scissored shut on empty air beside Shryke. Nearby, the pack of Broscoraptors hissed and watched the battle closely, looking for assign of weakness to pounce upon.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

It seemed Marcus was on Ingron's tail, but that didn't change the fact that this creature was slowing Shryke down. That Ogryn was not going to get away.

Holding up his staff to stop the writhing thing from getting too close, he struck again, and again, the blades of the servo-claw dripping with arthropod ichor as they ripped at the centipede's waxy carapace.

OOC: Aim, Swift Attack.

[roll0]
[roll1]+10, Pen 4
[roll2]+10, Pen 4

[ChaoticSky]

Babble and Gideon

Babble snapped her aim over to the rising spider, sighted, because you always have to aim, and fired, hopefully before the creepycrawly ate Gideon or the noble, or worse, Her!
Same go, half aim and fire.

[roll0] Vs 35(BS)+10(RedDot)+10(Halfaim) = TN 55

And damage if that somehow hits
[roll1]
Tearing Reroll
[roll2]
Pick Highest

Pen 4, Type X

[Riddick]

Battle-Babble & Gideon:
The arachnid's eight legs clattered as they reacted to Noctus' hail of useless fire. It retracted, about to pounce, when the retort of a bolt pistol cried out.

The creature's abdomen was blown into paste and the ensuing force of the round ripped it from the ledge to fall to the ground below, outside the Red Circus.

The noble blinked and mumbled embarrassed. "That was a nice shot."

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
The sergeant grunted, but it was a minor injury at the worst. He could have it patched up later. Right now, he had more pressing concerns. The two mantids needed to be put down, and fast. Waiting for an opening, the sergeant struck.

Aim and attack. [roll0]
and if I hit: [roll1]+8 rending,

and mantid dodge because there is no longer anything else they might like to dodge instead: [roll2] - I hate you, mantids.

[LeSwordfish]

<He's down. You'll want to come get him though. This place is rapidly becoming one you don't want to be helpless in.>

Gideon and Aria
For good measure, Gideon switched aims to the Ogryn and put a round through it's heart. Ogryns were so thick-skulled that aiming for the head was a waste of time, unless you could line up a shot on the eyes.

He barely registered the messy death of the spider.

[Calimos]

<He's down. You'll want to come get him though. This place is rapidly becoming one you don't want to be helpless in.>


<On my way.>

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos

Beginning his pursuit, of the now reportedly incapacitated Ingron, Marcus started to run towards him, following the same course as Ingron and the Ogryn. He had no time to waste, nor get entangled in more skirmishes with stray beasts, if he could help it. And if any door was locked on the way, well...he'd deal with that later.

[ChaoticSky]

Babble and Gideon
Aria flushed at the nobles' compliment, she really wasnt usually this handy with a gun! but she tried to shrug, and act cool, casting a significant glance over at Gideon, she replied "My lord's service is.... hectic. I'm really better with a dataslate..."

[Riddick]

Babble and Gideon:
The Ogryn reacts with a controlled jerk as Gideon's bullet punched into its chest. The sniper could envision the grunt the creature made through his scope as the round entered. Surprisingly, between the creatures slab of a chest and the thick ribs beneath, the bullet failed to kill.

With care, the Ogryn bent down to pick up Ingron and carry him from this place.

Noctus smiled tiredly at Aria. "That must be a dangerous dataslate then, hmm?" He looked around, suddenly alert. "Where is Rinn? I cannot return without her. Her father is a guild executive." He looked around rapidly.

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos:
Reinhart's boots pounded up the metal stairs on his way to the catwalk. Ahead of him, a worker kept a fierce canine at bay with a long handled tool. The youth looked exhausted and as if sensing its prey's weakness, the canine pressed harder.

Marcus would have to pass the two to continue his run-down. Though, he could easily skirt the struggle altogether and leave the youth to his fate. The Emperor would understand, surely?

Nearby, Sergeant Pyrrhus squared off against two apex predators and the advantage was his alone. Chitin pincers flashed out and swung at Kerberos with astounding speed. None landed flush and his own expert reply with his chainsword was deftly dodged by the xenos.

Septimus' lethal mechadendrite struck out twice more. Driven to instinct bound survival, the creature managed to sway aside from both swipes that would have rent the centipede apart. Distracted by the whirring mecha-weapon, the centipede didn't note the rapid approach of the broscoraptors until it was too late.

The pack pounced on the wounded insectile and began devouring it before it even expired. The beasts hissed and snarled up at Shryke, claiming their kill.

[LCP]

Shryke, Marcus & Kerberos

Shryke had no interest in contesting the reptiles' kill. Keeping his staff in hand, he edged around the feeding pack and made for the exit to the pit.

OOC: If I need to Disengage to move out of contact with the Broscoraptors, I'll do that; otherwise, if I'm not in immediate contact/the raptors are too distracted to be a threat, Shryke will Run.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon and Aria
"Saw her heading towards the arbites, eleven o-clock. Aria, take our friend and get him and his young lady out of here. I'll follow you in a second."

<I don't give a damn about a guilder's daughter. If you can save her, do. But she's a reason for Noctis to like us more, nothing else.>

That done, Gideon felt his clip with a thumb. One more shot. Another round to the body mass of the Ogryn.

[Destro_Yersul]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos
The Xenos and their agility were beginning to grate heavily on the sergeant. How was he supposed to destroy the damned things in the Emperor's name if they wouldn't hold still? He could hold out, it was true, but not indefinitely. ANother swing, and he reversed the blade, hoping to hit the creature on the backswing.

I'm running out of ways to say "Pyrhuss chops the Xenos." Ah well.

[roll0] Feint!
[roll1] Does the Xenos realise?

[roll2] Chop!
[roll3] +8

I think the feint failed, but that's still a hit thanks to the +10 on a single attack. 16 wounds to the gribbly, and fingers crossed.

[Calimos]

Shryke, Marcus and Kerberos


Noticing the struggling young worker, Marcus was drawn for a few seconds away from his goal. It might cost him, as the case had been in years past, but he was not content leaving weak people behind. The words of his mentor rang true in his ears, as if the grizzled veteran of the Divisio Immoralis himself was standing before him, scolding him.

"The moment we stop to count the cost, Marcus, is the moment we fail. Mark my words and do not forget them".

Struggling for a second, he shook his head and rushed to the worker's help, charging the beast, in attempt to strike it with his sword and draw his attention from the young worker who was visibly faltering in his attempts to fend it off.

[Riddick]

The pens echoed with the frenzied combat of Kerberos versus two Mantid Stalkers. The skirmish was a blur of swings and dodges; strike and counter-strike. The Sergeant parried aside two hard slashes of chitin in quick succession, only to have his riposte ducked under. The Chainsword clanged as the xenos' lethal arms were knocked from their vicious path.

Reinhart was a true servant of the Emperor and refused to leave a man to the galaxies ungentle caress. His blade rang off the catwalk, missing the canine. It responded with a surprised snap of its slavering jaws. The jaws snapped shut next to Marcus' forearm. The youth sighed with exasperated relief and swung his tool at the back of the creature, taking advantage of his good fortune.

Septimus left what was left of the arthropod to the reptilian pack and made for the catwalk himself. Time was of the essence.

Next to the centipede's quickly disappearing corpse, Kron remained seated in the pit fighter's caged off area. His back was to the carnage outside. He seemed apathetic of the chaos as he took another spoonful of his soup.

Above, Gideon's bullet splintered several ribs of the over-sized humanoid. Ogryn's were known for their fortitude, but there was only so much a living thing could take. Expertly placed shots were certainly on that list. The Ogryn dropped to a knee gasping in ragged breaths that went unheard to the distant sniper. Ingron lay prone next to the humanoid, staring up at his bodyguard through pain-shaded eyes. The situation was quickly becoming manageable.

The stands were virtually empty now. The arbites spread across the arena, less in number now due to the escaped beasts. The official channel opened up, crackling into Reinhart's ear.

+Warden, we are on site and moving to secure the stands. What's your status?+

The last of the visible creatures, the jet-black felines, leapt from the arena's edge and out of sight.

[LeSwordfish]

<Be warned, Marcus. The Ogryn's still active. Down, but not out.>

Gideon and Aria
Gideon ejected the old clip from his rifle, and smoothly slammed a second clip of manstoppers into the breach. With the Ogryn seemingly winded, he could take his time lining up a shot, and he did, lining up as carefully as possible with the massive beast's heart. They were resilient, but not that resilient.

[Riddick]

Gideon reloaded the rifle, a practiced motion, and re-sighted on the Ogryn. The humanoid clutched its chest, as if applying pressure would cease the pain and keep the shards of his ribs from tearing into his organs further. Ingron waved for his bodyguard to lift him up and remove him from this place. His lips moved in frustration when the Ogryn did nothing.

****

Below, Pyrrhus began an overhand slice - a feint. The Mantid stepped wide to the side to dodge only to have the powerful overhand turn into a sidelong, sweeping cut. The chainsword tore across the exoskeleton torso of the predator, spilling its xenos guts across the floor. The Mantid let out a high pitched shrill as it tumbled to the floor in two pieces.

The last Mantid turned to flee, their attack had failed. This other predator, armed with its thick skin and roaring arm, was too dangerous for it alone.

Shryke pounded up the steps, moving onto the catwalk close to Marcus. Reinhart's sword sliced deeply into the canine. It howled as it jerked back reflexively. The creature's back was hunched, lined with razor-like quills. If the serious wound hadn't been enough, the sight of another man bearing down caused the beast to panic and turn to run.

The youth collapsed to the grating, taking ragged breaths from exhaustion. "<pant> <pant> <pant> ...thanks." Was all he could manage.

[LCP]

Shryke rushed past Marcus and the boy, running for the steps to the pit. Something could be eating Ingron already; if he had to pull the cagemaster from the belly of another centipede, the tech-priest was not going to be happy.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon aimed carefully, and fired the final shot. The round entered the ogryn through the fleshy skin below it's arm, and passed clean through the body. The expanding shot ruptured the heart, and blew a hole the size of a dinner plate in the ogryn's stomach. Gideon watched with grim satisfaction as muscle spasms threw the ogryn back against the wall, to lie twitching on the ground.

"Great ugly brute." Gideon muttered, reloading. "Always hated anything that didn't know when to die."

<Scratch that, Marcus. It's dead. Getting our friend and Aria out.>

His message sent, Gideon began to run towards the arena exit, a surprising turn of speed for his age catching him up with Aria and Noctis quickly. Taking the shaking noble by the arm, he began guiding him to the exit. "Your young lady will be fine. She was running toward the arbitrators- i provided her with cover fire myself. Which, of course, wouldn't have been possible without cover fire from you. You've done great things today, my friend. Looked death in the face, and never backed down. House Krin should be proud."

[roll0] to Charm Noctis. A last attempt to increase how much he likes us before we start asking him for favours.

[roll1] To see if i can see Rinn in the crowds. If Awareness or just Perception, vs 42, (perception+Heightened Senses) if Search vs 26(Perception/2 + Heightened Senses)

Lets see if i can get the syntax right this time. (Well, nearly. No quotes needed. Too much java.)

[Calimos]

++This is Warden Reinhart. On my way to secure a critical witness on the stands. The beasts that killed Father Herstromm are secured in a secret cage in the pens area, guarded by Sergeant Kerberos. Must be transported to Tricorn Palace for extensive study and possible extermination. ++


*******

<Roger that Gideon. On my way with Shryke>


*******

<Kerberos, be advised. Arbites officers and troopers may be headed your way to transport the beasts to Tricorn palace on our behalf. I notified them. They're here to assist.>


*******

Marcus delivered a last, hopefully fatal, strike with his sword to the fleeing canine, before nodding to the exhausted young worker nearby.

"The Emperor protects", he said solemnly and then moved forward, following Shryke, to reach Ingron and re-unite with Gideon and Aria.

[Destro_Yersul]

<Copy that.> The sergeant swung his chainsword at the back of the mantid that had chosen to flee. The creature was too quick, though. Glaring after its back, but unwilling to leave his post, the sergeant skewered the downed one with the humming chainsword once again. Had to be sure it was dead. Then he drew his sidearm, aiming after the fleeing mantid. <Last of the Xenos filth lost its taste for my sword when I gutted the other. Be advised it's still up.>

Since I doubt Pyrhuss' laspistol will do much to the thing, feel free to have the Arbitrators come and finish it off. Please? :smalltongue:

[ChaoticSky]

Gideon and Aria
At the noble's exclamation, Aria looked around, confused for a moment, then realization dawned. "Huh, she didnt follow us, that was ill advised. I do not however, see her among the dead, so hopefully she made it out. Things are starting to calm down, but you should stay with lord Gideon, I'll go have a look for her outside."

With that, she carefully picked her way down the stands, and towards the exit, hoping to avoid any remaining threats and slip out the same way she had seen the woman going earlier. Lightly tapping her bead, she responded to Gideon "<He sounds really worked up about it, I'll go have a look for her.>"

[Riddick]

Marcus' sword came stabbing down, punching into the razor-canine's shoulder blades. It's xenos life was snuffed out as its cries were cut-off.

Marcus delivered a last, hopefully fatal, strike with his sword to the fleeing canine, before nodding to the exhausted young worker nearby.

"The Emperor protects", he said solemnly and then moved forward, following Shryke, to reach Ingron and re-unite with Gideon and Aria.

The youth looked up at Reinhart, his exhausted form still struggling for breath. As if thinking on the truth of the statement, his head began to nod. "That he does. Thank you sir," he said with sincerity.

****

Gideon's shot hissed through the air, finishing the Ogryn. Where it lay, twitching, Ingron could be seen by the sniper looking on in resigned disgust. The Cagemaster rolled over onto his back and covered his face with the back of his forearm perhaps in an attempt to shade himself from his guilt and defeat.

The sniper left his position and joined Aria and Noctus as they neared the exit. Rinn was spotted rather quickly by Gideon, milling about with the others unsure of what to do now as they coped with the horror that had just transpired. Noctus ran up to Rinn but slowed to a dignified walk as he closed. Checking to see if she was ok, he put the noble mask back on as best he could in an attempt to save face.

Noctus turned to Gideon and Aria and handed the sniper back the carbine with forced nonchalance. "Well that was quite the evening, was it not?" He asked Rinn as he placed an arm around her shoulder. She nodded with a teary eyed glance. She looked a wreck.

He looked the two acolytes in the eye as he continued, "Truly, you must attend my family auction. I'll toast to my newest and most proficient friends." He proclaimed loudly as he fished in his pockets for something.

His hand returned, holding a holo-wafer. He activated it and held it up. The emblem of House Krinn was spun in place on one side, on the other was a gavel crossed with a wine bottle - the symbol of the annual auction. "I was admiring this years' invitations we had fashioned as I departed for the Red Circus." His eyes move from the spinning emblem back to the pair. "The Emperor alone knew why I had really held onto it this night, hmm?"

The noble smiled charmingly, back in his normal state or close enough to fake it, as he handed Gideon the holo-wafer. "This is good for yourself and up to two retainers." He handed the device over with a knowing smile. "I'll see you both in two night's time at the Vaulted Chateau in the Lucid district. The auction begins at dusk, my friends. Bring your appetite and your good humor. I shall see you both appropriately appreciated!" He said as he turned to walk off into the crowd.

****

Septimus raced across the catwalk and up the next set of stairs. The door at the top was thankfully left unlocked in Ingron's haste to escape. Behind Shryke, Reinhart followed closely.

The two approached the crippled Cagemaster. He laid on the floor of the stands, arm over his eyes. His other arm was pressed tightly to a wound in his side. His calf bled all over the filthy ground.

His arm moved marginally at the sound of the acolyte's approach if only to allow Ingron to see who came to collect him. He sighed decisively, "This is going to get much, much worse."

He took another deep breath. "You should have turned around and walked out of my Circus." His voice dripped with scorn and sorrow.

****

Pyrrhus watched the last xenos predator flee up the ramp he himself has used to enter the pens area. A muffled bark, the sound of a yell from under a carapace helm, resounded back down the tunnel.

An instant later, the cacophony of gunfire echoed from the ramp and was punctuated by the shrill cry of the last predator being felled.

The Arbites entered the pens area, sweeping their weapons and clearing as they moved. Two approached Kerberos careful not to point their weapons at the man as the rest fanned out, across the area.

One of the men's helm clicked as the vox-ponder activated. The men motioned with their weapons to the ladder behind Pyrrhus. +Sergeant Kerberos, sir? Is the objective down below?+

The other man kicked a fallen Stalker, his gun pointed at its head.

[LCP]

Septimus looked down at the cagemaster. He appeared to be leaking.


"This is going to get much, much worse."

He took another deep breath. "You should have turned around and walked out of my Circus." His voice dripped with scorn and sorrow.

"From your perspective, Mr Ingron, I don't doubt that's true," said Shryke. Kneeling down in the dust of the arena, he did his best to stop the outflow of vital fluids from the injured cagemaster. "I'm hoping you'll tell us in more detail exactly how."

Looking round, he gestured to Marcus. "Mr Reinhart, the cagemaster needs to be secured. Can you think of anywhere we can detain him?"

Hanging idly over his shoulder, the servo-claw snapped open and shut a few times, ensuring its joints were free from any stray pieces of centipede. Taking a few steps over to the Ogryn's corpse, Shryke looked down at it with the detachment of an adept conducting an autopsy.

"I will just be one moment."

OOC: Shryke removes the Ogryn's head as surgically as he can, using the servo-claw. If he can find anything to use as a sack, he'll do so; otherwise, I guess it's pretty big, so he'll just carry it under his arm?

Anyone looks at him funny, he'll give 'em a staring contest :smallbiggrin:

[LeSwordfish]

"Well." Gideon said, watching Noctis vanish into the crowd. "That's an event i look forward to." He turned to Aria. "Shall we rejoin the others inside? I think it might be all blowing over, but having another person or two to help the arbites transport the beasts couldn't hurt."

[Destro_Yersul]

Pyrhuss nodded at the arbitrator, retreiving a cleaning rag from one of his equipment pouches and wiping his chainsword free of Xenos entrails. "That's right. Watch out for them. Abominations against the God Emperor, the whole lot, and I don't doubt they've got demeanors to match."

The sergeant stepped aside to let them past, looking around for the young worker he'd told to hide. That one might still have something useful to tell them.

[Riddick]

The Arbites set to work and moved down towards the hidden cage. One swore aloud, out of view, and the other mumbled a catechism.

Kerberos spotted the young worker sitting in a closed cage nearby. He seemed in a daze, his back against the bars.

The Arbites sweep had taken them into the pit fighter area where Kron still sat, eating his soup. The lawmen glanced at each other and moved on without bothering the heavily modified gladiator.

[Calimos]

Marcus stood, alongside Septimus, regarding the wounded cagemaster. He exhaled hard, as if trying to push away all his disgust over the events that had transpired in the aptly named "Red Circus". His voice sounded distorted and more menacing, due to the respirator that was still fastened on his face, as his eyes transfixed the injured form of the cagemaster that lied helpless on the circus floor.

"That is the fate of those who break Imperial Law. And ran from Imperial servants, inducing mayhem and the loss of innocent bystanders' lives on top of it, just to save their own skin. What exactly was going through your sick mind Ingron? Nevermind. You are in the custody of Imperial agencies and you may have yet not outlived your usefulness. Pray that you haven't".

He turned to Septimus, speaking in a low hushed voice.

"Thank you for stabilizing him. He's in need of immediate medical care but he might prove valuable once he's partially recovered. I'd hate to lose a prime candidate for interrogation. He can be detained in an Arbites or Divisio Immoralis facility, we can transport him back to Tricorn or we can even hold him in the Valkyrie or in our base of operations when we set up one. It's good to see that all in our team emerged unscathed from this mess. I should go talk to the Arbites and arrange for the transportation of the beasts.

[Destro_Yersul]

Pyrhuss sheathed his newly cleaned chainsword, regarding the dirty rag with disgust before folding it up and sticking it in a different pouch. He approached the young worker, removing his gas mask as he went and leaving it to dangle around his neck. "Think it's safe to come out of there now," he told the worker, then paused.

"What's your name?"

[Riddick]

The youth looked up at Kerberos, pulled from his thoughts. He sat in the center of the cage, his arms rested on the tops of his knees.

"Brassel," he replied. The youth looked around at the mess. His eyes caught on the Arbites working with the mysterious Beast's cage. Several lawmen shoved the cage from its position leaving just the metal floorboard covering the hidden area below. The cage below wasn't designed to be moved. Whatever illicit creatures needed to be hidden away had to be goaded down below by the trained handlers of the Red Circus it seemed.

Or Longshadow in this case, according to Brassel. Two Arbites activated lascutters and began sectioning away the metal panel covering the cage below. Muffled vox-chatter drifted from helmed faces as the lawmen communicated on their squad frequency. One Arbite nodded at an unheard order and moved to a nearby cargo-sentinel, climbing in.

The walker stood dormant, it's power-lifters dangling at its sides as the man climbed in and began powering up the vehicle.

Brassel continued on with tone of a young man thinking out loud, not truly addressing those in earshot. "This job... was all I had." His voice trailed off along with his gaze. "How am I gonna eat?" He asked no one in particular.

****

Septimus removed the Ogryn's head. Some of the crowd milling outside the nearby exits made surprised sounds. The same crowd parted, moments later, to allow an Arbite half-track to reverse all the way up to the Red Circus' now open main gate. The back of the vehicle was clear. This must be the transportation for their located cargo.

Ingron looked on, detached. He said nothing else to his captors.

For now.

****

Nearby, just outside the gates, Gideon and Aria had to move aside as a half-track backed through the crowd slowly. A lawman on foot guided the vehicle to avoid crushing any civilians.

The two acolytes spotted Septimus and Marcus conversing not far from where they stood.

The man guiding the half-track signaled for the vehicle to halt and turned to Marcus and Shryke. He called out. The vox-ponders gave him an inhuman, menacing. +Where do you want the objective transported to, Warden?+ The helm's focal point clearly shifted to the Ogryn's head in Septimus' mechanical hand but he said nothing.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon strolled through the crowd, rifle on shoulder, looking like nothing so much as a spoiled dandy on a hunting trip. He pulled up in front of the other acolytes and nods. "Mr Reinhart. Mr Shryke." His expression doesn't change as he looks down at Shryke's new companion. "Well. I must admit that i was worried about your experience, Mr Shryke, but now I've seen you in the fray, i'm glad to know you can-" he flicked his visor down over his eyes "-keep your head."

He began disassembling his rifle, looking at the arbites as if to dare them to ask what he was doing with a hunting rifle. "Or somebodies, at least. Be careful with the creatures in there. They're important. And our friend here may want a few of their body parts."

[LCP]

Shryke looked blankly at Gideon for a moment. You could almost hear the cogitator-circuits whirring before he twigged.

"Ah, yes. Wordplay."

Looking round at Marcus as the enforcers approached, Shryke lowered his voice to a murmur and spoke in the Acolytes' code.

<Tricorn most secure. Avoid involving cell Valkyrie; conspicuous association with Inquisition compromises cover.>

Clearing his throat with a slight sound of static, he looked politely back at the enforcer in front of them, still holding the Ogryn's head in the crook of his arm as if it were nothing more unusual than a shopping-bag.

[Calimos]

Marcus nodded in acknowledgement to Gideon, grasping his hand in a firm handshake (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p2vU88Z8mP0/T0zkkh2T0-I/AAAAAAAAASQ/7khjR5Cw-lI/s320/handshake.jpg), then switching the grip, so that their palms grasped each other (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FAdwx6a6gOg/T3hIdcBwFoI/AAAAAAAAABo/DpVzUYAq_Pk/s1600/handshake1.jpg), forming their adopted "brother-in-arms" shake, developed almost instictively over the years of assignments they'd carried out, in service to the Inquisition.


*******

<Acknowledged Mr. Shryke. Your assessment is correct and the course of action you suggest is optimal as well. That said, you truly performed remarkably, to accentuate Gideon's point as well. We should search Ingron's office for any evidence or clues and then proceed according to your suggestion.>


*******

Then he turned to the Arbitrators waiting for him.

"By the Emperor, it is good to see you brothers once again. Thank you for the most timely intervention and expert handling of the rampant beasts. Those specimens you secured are to be transported with all due haste, alongside the wounded cagemaster, who is to be interrogated and stand trial for his crimes against the Imperium, to Tricorn Palace, as per the request of higher echelons. You can proceed with that".

After that Marcus gestured to the other acolytes and went straight to Ingron's office.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria followed along with Gideon, quite happy to let him deal with the noble, before rejoining their allies, she gave them a nod of recognition, then started to go for her dataslate... only to realize she still had her gun in her hand. Eyeing the dark metal speculatively, she holstered it at her side, but when she pulled her hand away, the gun was still there. Upon closer inspection she realized that she was holding it in a white knuckled grip, and her fingers quite refused to let go. The poor adept ended up having to pry her fingers off it one by one, before she was able to shove it into the holster wrong handed.

Flexing her fingers to restore circulation, and pointedly ignoring any looks her self wrestling match might have earned her, she successfully drew out her slate, and began amending data, "So, we have acquired Ingron then?" she queried rhetorically, obviously entering that into the slate as she followed them into the office~

[Riddick]

The office is rather large and looks to be a small storage room adapted into its current use. An expansive desk lies in the center. Manifests for creatures and dossiers on pit fighters litter the desktop. Some of the data-slates list transfers of beasts and personnel to other Red Circuses as needed.

There was a lot of information spread across several data-slates. Locating an item of interest would require some diligent scouring of the slates' contents.

The rest of the office was covered in picts of famed battles that took place in this very arena. Several chairs, one of which was over-sized and reinforced were spread out. A table with a chart spread out on it took up a sizable amount of space. The chart showed pairings for the day's events. In one of the filing cabinets nearby, all of the previous day's pairings charts were compiled.

****

Outside, the sentinel stepped down into the now open top hidden recess. The power-lifter's claws clamped shut on the supports of the cage before it was lifted from the ground.

The creatures within raged against their transport and slammed into the bars, reaching out with razor claws, trying in vain for the walker's operator.

The sentinel made its way slowly across the pens area and out to the waiting half-track. The Arbites walked alongside the cage, flanking either side.

Two Arbites remained with Ingron at all times as the acolytes removed themselves to investigate the office.

[Destro_Yersul]

"The Emperor provides for those in need," Pyrhuss quoted. "You may yet find a promising career in Imperial service. First, though, I think the higher-ups probably got a few more questions for you. You helped us already, after all."

The sergeant inspected the door on the cage, wondering if he should open it, but decided against it. "Come on. I'll take you to join the rest."

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon waited, overseeing the lifting of the cage. He scrutinized the animals as they were lifted over him.

"You great ugly brutes." He murmured to himself. "What have they done to you?"

He turned away and strode past Ingron. "Cagemaster, a pleasure to meet you. In future, may i advise dodging?" he smirked. That had been a damn good shot, and he was very proud of his shooting. "Zig-zagging movement goes such a long way. Now, if you'll excuse me, i'll be in your office."

Gideon strolled back down through the circus. and joined the others in the office. "Any luck yet?" He asked, beginning to sift through the files himself.

If Ingron has any conversation for Gideon, Gideon will wait to hear it.

[roll0] vs Per 42, +10 Heightened Senses.

In addition, Security test in case anything is locked. [roll1] vs Agility 52 +20 training +20 multikey.

[LCP]

Shryke stayed behind where they were lifting the animals out of the pit. Before Marcus could head off for Ingron's office, he spoke:

"I will remain with the animals, and ensure they get safe transport to the Tricorn." He paused. <Enemy may have allies anywhere. Best not to trust in others.>

Reaching into his robes, he produced the vial of oil in which he had stashed the hair from the cathedral, then looked back towards the cage. "This hardly seems necessary now," he said. "Mr Reinhart, would you like me to take that piece of parchment you were saving for analysis?"

[ChaoticSky]

Aria paused at the door, looking up from her slate as if sensing something was amiss, and saw Gideon watching the cages, she lightly tapped her bead "<Be careful Gideon, they show signs of warp corruption>", then continued on in.

Upon entering the office, the adept immediately wandered over to the dataslates, like a bee drawn to honey. She collected them, one by one, and copied their contents over into her own vastly superior slate, before returning the originals so that the others could also look them over if they wanted. with the contents claimed, she began to read through them, with her usual celerity


Awareness as per request
[roll0] Vs 40 Per

Readin!
[roll1] Vs 53 Int + 10 Cogitator = 63

woot, passed awareness with flying colours, and thank god for personal cogitators, that would have been awkward!

[Riddick]

As Gideon and Aria left the captured beasts, the large one, the hulking apex predator glared at them with abject hatred. Its frenzied wrath stilled just long enough to focus on them. A throaty growl grew into another outburst and before long, the creature was throwing itself at the cage walls once more.

The cage was set on the back of the half-track and secured in place. The sentinel operator turned and walked off to replace the walker. The Arbites looked ready to move whenever the cell was ready, if any of the acolytes wished to ride along.

**

Inside the office, Gideon's eye, the same that could place multiple shots in the same three centimeter area at a thousand meters scanned the office. The walls were adorned with framed picts. Beasts tearing into each other. Champions roaring to the glory of victory. On they went. One pict in particular caught the sniper's eye.

It depicted two men in mid-charge. The pict itself didn't interest Gideon. It was the lower lip of the pict and the fact it was the only one that sat off the wall a half centimeter. Pulling the frame from the wall displayed the wall-safe hidden behind. The safe had a keypad barring entrance. With a few moments spent splicing the multi-key into the keypad and a closer look at which keys were ever so slightly greasy from human touch, Van Haal had the correct seven digit combination resolved in minutes.

As Gideon worked, Aria imported all of the slates contents that littered the desk. Many were well kept ledger entries listing out the costs for the beasts, their food and upkeep, as well as the wages earned by pit fighters. Ingron, if anything, was a good book keeper. That was the assumption until figures started to look off to Aria. Babbles attention was caught by the pairing charts. Even at a glance, her adept mind for information detected a discrepancy. For example, two weeks ago, the cost of food for the Broscoraptors cost more than this week. According to the charts, the Broscoraptors were not used in any bouts until tonight yet consumed noticeably less. So why were the same amount of creatures eating less?

And here, the transfer forms of beasts between Red Circuses showed that a Mortressian Prowler had been sent to this facility but had perished from disease days after arriving. During those days it was supposedly dying, there was no concurrent entry for expenses related to caring for or feeding the beast. What to make of all of this...

The safe opened with a resounding 'clunk' of satisfaction as Gideon finished his work. Inside the safe was a stack of thrones. Yet another anomaly - the ledgers state that all accounts are settled in non-cash and that each night's take is kept at the neighboring pleasure den as dictated by Mr. Scorzita.

****

Brassel stood up and moved to follow Kerberos. His shoulders remained slumped with his future in the air.

[LeSwordfish]

"Well well well." Gideon said, inspecting the bag of coin. "The Cagemaster has been skimming off the top, i believe. Well, I think we should confiscate this in the name of the inquisition. We need money for accomodation."

Accounting discrepancies. He thought. If animals were being kept without care or feeding expenses... were they really being kept?

So who else had the animals? How were they being transported?

"Do the 'missing' animals match times of death of the clerics?" he asked. "That would be nice."

[Destro_Yersul]

The sergeant, with Brassel following him, left the cage area below the circus for the Arbites truck that was parked nearby. For one thing, it would be internally consistent if he went with the lead 'inspector.' For another, Pyrhuss wanted Brassel somewhere he could talk to him, and the ride to the Tricorn would solve that problem nicely.

"Sir," he said, approaching Septimus, "our friend from below managed to survive, fortunately. I figure you might want to ask him a few more things, so I brought him along. Plus, he needs a new job now. If everything checks out, you think we could get him posted running errands?"

The translation, of course, being that Pyrhuss thought they might need someone inconspicuous, who knew the local area.

[Calimos]

"Sure thing Septimus. Here you go. Hope they manage to extract something useful from it", said Marcus, handing the parchment over to the Tech-Priest.

"Make sure that our captive gets adequate medical treatment as well. Not full recovery, but enough to be in shape for an interrogation. I'll like to oversee his interrogation personally. Make sure the scumbag gets the full ride and leaves no secret untold".


*******

Marcus looked around, searching meticulously Ingron's office, checking picts and charts, cross-referencing them with what information was already recovered and with what clues the other acolytes had acquired. Piecing slowly the evidence together the hardened Arbitrator could venture a guess or two, regarding what might go on in here. Maybe they were indeed switching animals between the different Red Circus establishments, and maybe, due to the nature of the sport that involved killing said animals, it was quite more easy and justifiable to sell some of them - once in a while - to a third party, without arousing any suspicions at all.

[LCP]

"Make sure that our captive gets adequate medical treatment as well. Not full recovery, but enough to be in shape for an interrogation. I'll like to oversee his interrogation personally. Make sure the scumbag gets the full ride and leaves no secret untold".

"Naturally," said the tech-priest, quietly. Pocketing the roll of parchment, he turned at Kerberos' approach.


"Sir," he said, approaching Septimus, "our friend from below managed to survive, fortunately. I figure you might want to ask him a few more things, so I brought him along. Plus, he needs a new job now. If everything checks out, you think we could get him posted running errands?"

"Hm," said Shryke, looking Brassel up and down. "Low cranial capacity. Appears malnourished." He looked back at the sergeant. "This is the one who told us what the cagemaster wouldn't? He must be good for something."

Hardly looking back at the boy, the tech-priest pulled himself up onto the back of the half-track, behind the cage.

"Welcome to the service of the Imperium, young man. You can start by helping load your ex-employer onto this vehicle." He gestured with his staff towards Ingron. "He will be coming with us too."

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon turned his attention away from the safe, and began flicking through the ledgers alongside Aria, taking notes on a spare pad of paper, muttering to himself. "Take down the details of other circuses, and particularly of animal transfer. Chasing up the animals will lead us to the tall man." Aria and Marcus were familiar with the elderly assassin's habits of speaking even when he was aware nobody was listening. "Dissapearing animals... That reappear, twisted and corrupted. Strange."

He looked up with a start. "Sorry. Thinking out loud again. Do excuse me."

[roll0] if it helps

[Destro_Yersul]

"Alright. Come on, then" Kerberos gestured at Ingron, looking at the young worker for help. The sergeant didn't have much more worth saying right now - he was going to be doing a lot of thinking, on the trip back to the tricorn.

[Riddick]

Ingron bit back the pain of being lifted into the half-track with muted groans. For a moment, the resignation in his eyes turned to desperate fury. It faded once more as he was sat down.

Parting ways, half of the cell headed to the Tricorn with their captured cargo. Civilians scurried out of the way as the Arbite vehicles rolled through. Stares and open hostility of the lower-hivers gave way to blank obedience among the middle-hivers.

It was a long drive all the way to the Tricorn. The rain never ceased and neither did the sounds of enraged beasts throwing themselves into the cage walls. With unending fury, the warped beasts continued gave voice to their hatred through hearty roars and deep growls.

This, almost as much as the heavy Arbite presence, drew much attention from the locals that they passed.

**

At the gates of the Tricorn, authorization was needed from the acolytes - a code reference to their Inquisitor, Wroth. When clearance was given, the thick main gates opened to allow the half-track into the compound. At one of several vehicle ports, the cage was offloaded, this time by lifter-servitors working in teams. Storm Troopers, three of them, moved with the cage as Tricorn protocol dictated.

The beasts were secure. The Tricorn possessed them and what the Tricorn held, was often never seen again.

Those that traveled with the cage stood with an adept outside of the large room that now held the beasts and their cage secure. The adept introduced himself.

"Greetings, acolytes. I understand you represent Inquisitor Wroth, is that correct? What can I help you determine about these creatures?"

A loud roar accompanied another <BANG> as the large creature slammed into the cage once more.

"Aside from the obvious, of course," he added politely.

The scene played out through the room's windows. Several men in the room were placing panels through the cage as they separated the beasts from one another.

The adept looked away from the scene and returned his attention to the acolytes. He wore a charcoal grey lab coat emblazoned with a simple -I- over his heart. His one good eye, along with his red bionic eye, seemed unimpressed by the creatures. This place must see many horrors of the galaxy, some far more disturbing than these.

"Our examination will commence right away," he continued in a methodical, cold manner. Through the window, one of the two warped broscoraptors was isolated from the others by the panels. A man walked up to the cage's edge carrying what looked like a hefty weapon, took aim, and fired. The weapon was unwieldy and dragged a thick power cord, but it did the job. Whatever it fired, it tore through the creature's head and left most of it behind.

The men opened the cage, safe from the other beasts behind the panels, and dragged the dead creature out, and tossed it onto an examination table. Other men wearing the same gray lab coats moved in on the corpse to begin their work.

In a cell nearby, Ingron sat chained to his Interrogation seat as Confessors worked diligently to patch him up.

But only well enough to sustain the damage that was likely forthcoming. Ingron had shuttered with fear as he passed through the Tricorn's gates. This was the end that all men of questionable morals fears and now his fate lay before him, in the bowels of the Tricorn.

His life was already forfeit, he knew that. Even if the only thing he had ever done was release a warehouse full of dangerous predators into Imperial citizens, that would be enough to warrant his execution.

The Interrogation began with Ingron in a vulnerable state.

************

Elsewhere, far below the hive surface, Gideon and his fellow acolytes scoured the area for a suitable place. One that could house them, defend them, and hide them.

Asking around, at first, cost them some time. The underhivers were not known for their courtesy. Most listened to Gideon's questions just long enough to hear the lack of an underhive accent and turned their back on him.

Some swore and waved the noble-born off while others demanded a ludicrous amount for the information.

After a few hours of walking and asking around, the acolyte's presence became noticed by some members of the local underhive gang. Likely, word had spread about the inquiries before Gideon and company had even made it this far.

There was a trio of gangers, all standing outside a local bar. The establishment's windows, those that weren't broken, blazed with lit signs advertising the wares within. Alcohol, nude women, and one sign hinted at the sale of contraband. The air smelled of spiced smoke, offensive to the nostrils - obscura.

Dregs and off-shift workers ambled by, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

One of the gangers stepped away from the other two and walked right up to Gideon. His hair was shaved off of one side and the other was cut short, with lines buzzed into it.

"Ay!" He called to Gideon as we walked up. The other gangers sniggered. "You da man lookin' to move? We gots lots of nice places down 'ere." He joked. The man seemed jumpy. His eyes were blood red and his veins bulged as they pulsed, likely from injected stimulants.

He sniffed loudly and scratched his head before continuing. "We've got just da place for ya, ay? Why don'cha have up look up der, den?" The ganger motioned with his head to the area behind Gideon.

What was once an arteria ramp going up was now littered with debris and refuse. At the top of the ramp, a fair sized building stood. It's location would have dominated the area had it not fallen into disrepair and neglect. It commanded a good view of the area from it's higher ground and, from Gideon's location, looked sturdy enough.

The ganger turned to walk away, talking over his shoulder. "We moved da former occupants out years ago," was all he said. The other gangers thought this was quite clever, however, and laughed out loud.

**

Moving up the ramp, the building loomed into view, as dark as any forgotten creation. Some of the debris that Gideon and the others passed resolved itself to be more than mere junk and industrial waste.

A burned out vehicle comprised a chunk of the scrap heap. Looking closer, the vehicle had its door torn off. Inside, the decayed body of an Arbite sat headless. On what remained of the hood, the skull sat in the middle of a scrawled gang symbol.

The vehicle looked to once be a 'Scarab' patrol car, used by enforcers to maintain the peace. Several bullet holes decorated the wreck, but the engine block remained under the hood.

It could run again, someday, with enough skilled effort.

The building itself now resolved into what it used to be years ago: an enforcer way-station. Before this area of the hive grew higher and this level was relegated from mid-hive to underhive, law had a foothold here. The enforcers did what they could to preserve Imperial law until the lawless climbed higher, just like the hive itself, and claimed this territory for their own.

The main gate was blocked by yet more scrap piles, but Gideon was able to open an access hatch to the enginerium that formed the basement of the structure. The hatch was locked, but that didn't stop the acolyte.

Inside the building, a vehicle port, several rooms, and the enginerium itself stood vacant. For whatever reason, the building remained abandoned after the gangers had killed the last remaining enforcers and this sector was abandoned to anarchy by the forces further up-hive.

The enginerium's ancient power source remained dormant. This and many other aspects of the structure had fallen into decay. Machine spirits were dormant or simply gone from all that had once operated here. Outside, several picters that once scanned the perimeter, stood transfixed, rusted in place.

Perhaps this place was left alone as a sign that law had no place here.

Or perhaps the cocky gangers feared the law's return.

In any case, the structure was sturdy, had ample room, and had decent amenities... as far as derelict, abandoned buildings go anyway.

[LCP]

Shryke & Kerberos

<Watch Brassel> said Shryke to the sergeant as the Tricorn staff approached. <No clearance.>

Stepping down from the back of the half-track, he greeted the adept with a bow of his hooded head.


"Greetings, acolytes. I understand you represent Inquisitor Wroth, is that correct? What can I help you determine about these creatures?"

A loud roar accompanied another <BANG> as the large creature slammed into the cage once more.

"Aside from the obvious, of course," he added politely.

"These organisms are man-eaters," said Shryke. "They killed Father Herstromm, at the direction of another." Flicking a drip of rainwater from the cuff of his robes, he looked round at the cage. "They have been altered by unknown means. My colleagues and I would like to know how. Once you have learned all you can, dissection of the corpses might also be enlightening. There may be evidence of other victims in the stomach contents."

There was a pause as he watched the cage go. Something about the tech-priest's air seemed almost... wistful? Jealous?

"We will of course be interested to hear from you as soon as your findings are finalised," he said, snapping back to the here and now. "We also have this," he added, producing the roll of parchment from beneath his robes. "It was found at the murder scene, and should be forensically analysed. It may once have held writing."

"Finally, we have a captive. He requires medical attention." Shryke seemed to pause, checking his memory. Adjusting the weight of the Ogryn's head under his arm, he continued unperturbed. "And I will be requiring the use of an autoclave."

OOC: I think we want to save the interrogation of Ingron until we're back with Marcus. Can we just get him patched up so he can take more of a beating excruciator-ing first?

Shryke's lookin' for an autoclave so he can reduce the ogryn's head to a more hygienic skull. I remember there was a price tag in Throne Credits on getting the parchment analysed - is there one for any of the other stuff?

On the parchment front, I would also be interested to know what kind of paper it is, where it might have been produced, and what it might have been used in.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon laid his rifle case on the desk, with a click that sounded awfully loud in the silent offices.

"It'll do." He opined. "We should drag that scarab into the garage, I'm sure Shryke will want to play with it. For now, let's take a look at the generator. Once that's up and running, we'll have power to the picters and security systems, not to mention the heating and lights. We should also poke around for keys or similar. We don't want to have to break in every day."

[roll0] unskilled search vs 26, or awareness 42 if needed. Also looking for anything unusual - bugs in particular. Marcus will probably be better at this.

[Destro_Yersul]

The sergeant nodded. He didn't have a lot to add to the Interrogation, and he didn't know anything about xenobiology. Instead, Kerberos had decided he was going to see about getting Brassel a new posting. He stood by the vehicle, ostensibly guarding the young worker, and began to ask questions.

"How fast are you? How well do you know the local area? Do you know about any more of the Red Circus' dealings? Its owners? The creatures, or the tall man they were afraid of? What sort of skills do you have? Can you fire a gun? How would you feel about working with us?" The sergeant was military and efficient, asking short questions with simple answers. His end goal was learning all that Brassel knew, and figuring what sort of tasks would best suit the young man.

[LeSwordfish]

With nothing untoward found, and considering himself to be of very little help messing about with a generator, Gideon found a broom, discarded in a store cupboard, and set about cleaning up.

His mind drifted ahead to the auction, and as he swept, began drifting through possibilites, through heists and raids he had performed before, fitting clues and scraps of tricks and talents together, to plan his actions at the auction. Purely a thought exercise, since he had no way of knowing what they'd be called upon to do.

Blueprints of the house. Details of the goods to be auctioned. Perhaps miss Aria can help me find them. Stummers. Maybe at the tricorn, or Marcus might have some. A venom injector, or similar. Again, perhaps the...

He looked up with a start, to realise he had swept the entire cell corridor and enginarium.

[Calimos]

Marcus surveyed the place Gideon had located via his apparent negotiations with some of the local underworld's gangsters. As a former Enforcers way station the building would probably be well suited to serve as their center of operations during this assignment. Basic amenities, even if some maintenance would be required, defensible position, even a vehicle in disrepair, which could probably be later restored, with the expertise of Mr. Sryke.

He tried to assist Gideon and Aria to tidy the place a bit, examined the locks and general security and even installed screamers in key entry places, to serve as warning system for any potential and unwanted intrusion. After that he notified Gideon that he indeed had brought with him stummers, which he'd gladly hand over to him, so that he could be even more quiet than usual during their upcoming operation. He also gave him an injector, to use as he saw fit, after his relevant request, alongside a few confiscated combat drugs - stimms - that might prove useful at some point.

[Riddick]

The sergeant nodded. He didn't have a lot to add to the Interrogation, and he didn't know anything about xenobiology. Instead, Kerberos had decided he was going to see about getting Brassel a new posting. He stood by the vehicle, ostensibly guarding the young worker, and began to ask questions.

"How fast are you? How well do you know the local area? Do you know about any more of the Red Circus' dealings? Its owners? The creatures, or the tall man they were afraid of? What sort of skills do you have? Can you fire a gun? How would you feel about working with us?" The sergeant was military and efficient, asking short questions with simple answers. His end goal was learning all that Brassel knew, and figuring what sort of tasks would best suit the young man.

Brassel broke his awestruck gaze to focus on Kerberos. This was the Tricorn, the youth thought. Weren't there supposed to be Space Marines and murder-servitors stalking about?

The youth shook his head and replied in turn to the Sergeant. "Yeah, I'm pretty quick. The slow ones at the Circus don't last long."

"I don't know this area at all, but I know the Southlows from the mid-hive and down at least." He grimaces at the next few questions. "I'm afraid I told you just about all I know there. I hadn't seen the tall guy before then, but I had heard from Rile that someone had been doing business with some of the other Circuses. He described him as thin as a cage-prod but twice as nerve wracking." He shrugs apologetically.

"I'm a hard worker. I learn pretty quick...but I don't have a trade really. I know a bit about animals and how to care for them but I mostly did what the senior guys told me to do. Of course I can fire a gun! I grew up in the underhive ya know!"

The last question brought mute words to Brassel's lips as he rolled the implications over. For a second, his eyes scrutinized Kerberos with distrust, a holdover from his origins. With a little further deliberation, he gave his answer. "I would welcome the work, sir." He offered his hand to Pyrrhus.

****

Septimus joined the adepts as they tested the slain beast. They ran a number of tests on the warped Broscoraptor, working in tandem with Shryke.

One such test, involved an adept placing a sanctified blade against the creature's skin. The dead beast's flesh hissed as it burned from the touch. The adept made a soft sound as if something was confirmed. He explained to the Tech-Priest that this creature had been more daemon than beast.

"We've seen the like before," the adept explained. As he searched through the tray of tools nearby, he continued. "Through suffering and warp ritual, this creature was infested with the sentience of a warp fiend." He looked up, meeting Septimus' eyes. "It was possessed, sacrificed for the use of a lesser daemon spirit."

The adept returned to his search. "We'll have to examine the skin for specific marks. That'll help us narrow down the cult responsible for this blasphemy. Ideally, there will be scars, ritualistic symbols begging for attention from a specific..."

The adept's lecture-like monologue was was cut-short as Septimus' mechadendrite zoomed in on just the sort of scarring the adept spoke of. Indicating his discovery, the adept took a close look himself.

The adept 'hmmmed' and resumed his scholarly state. He pointed out the high level of mutilation apparent in the scar tissue as well as the nature of the symbols depicted in the cuts made to the poor creature. What was significant was that NO particular warp-deity was beckoned to. The powers of "chaos unaligned" was the term used, was utilized for the creation of these warp-beasts.

"What we are looking at," the adept surmised as he looked over the two remaining beasts in the cage, "are known as Dybuks." The other adepts looked at each other with knowing glances, sharing concern.

The adept squared up on Septimus once more, eyes hard. "These warp-infested creatures are the product of unholy ritual most commonly associated with the Pilgrims of Hayte." He paused to let that fact sink in, assuming the name held meaning to the acolyte. "And they're here, on Scintilla."

**

The first large step in the investigation had been made. And while it covered ground, it took the cell into dangerous territory. The involvement of the Pilgrims of Hayte was cause for sincere concern.

That singular worry was at the forefront as Shryke ran some preliminary tests on the mystery substance taken from the stained glass window.

The components of the material were rather easy to discern, given the facility and gear on hand: water, dissolved salts, sugars, and collagen fibers... a human eye. The substance lining the stained glass eye was ground up human eye.

As this odd, if not shocking result became apparent to Septimus, the doors to the lab he occupied opened. Another adept walked around the sterile counter carrying a data-slate. The labratorium equipment hummed in the high-grade facility, the noise filling the room.

The data-slate was handed over with little more than a nod before the adept courier turned to leave.

+Parchment Analysis from Cell F4T3D+

+Material carbon-dated to over 13,000 standard Terran years old. Material is notably not paper based, but organic - a dried leather like material with unknown properties loaning it its unusual durability.
+Organic nature combined with other tests indicates the parchment may be the epidermis of some unknown species.
+Follow up scans discovered trace elements of H2O, salts & sugars, and further organic matter in non-random lines. What looked to be dried water was found to be handwritten manuscript in a language not known to the adepts carrying out this test. This writing is fresh upon the ancient parchment.

****

Back at the newly acquired waystation, the others did what they could to fortify and prepare their new base of operations for the days to come. Armed with new knowledge, those days should be trying indeed.

[LCP]

"What we are looking at," the adept surmised as he looked over the two remaining beasts in the cage, "are known as Dybuks." The other adepts looked at each other with knowing glances, sharing concern.

The adept squared up on Septimus once more, eyes hard. "These warp-infested creatures are the product of unholy ritual most commonly associated with the Pilgrims of Hayte." He paused to let that fact sink in, assuming the name held meaning to the acolyte. "And they're here, on Scintilla."

It was not the answer Septimus had wanted to hear, though it was one he had suspected. The Warp was not amenable to rational analysis. The actions of those mortals who dabbled in it, however, were.

“What can you tell me about this cult?” asked the tech-priest. “And the 'Dybuk' ritual, what is known about that? Does it require specific ingredients? Take a specific amount of time?” Taking his eyes away from the specimen, he turned to look directly at the adept. “If someone were creating more of these creatures, somewhere in the Southlows... how easy would it be for them to hide their activities?”


~

Later, in the medicae lab, Septimus carefully re-packaged the glass fragment in a sterile container and put it back into one of the internal pockets of his robes. He was fairly certain he had seen the silhouetted figure of Longshadow remove an eye from Herstromm's body on the surveillance footage. Was this what had become of it? The dybuks, now this – it seemed the killer's every action was charged with some ritual significance.

What that significance was, he had no idea – but the adept, Aria, might. An autoclave bubbling merrily away on his left, he turned to receive the data-slate from the analysis of the parchment.

Nothing he had seen so far surprised him more than this. Thirteen thousand years old. That predated the Calixis Sector – that predated the Imperium. Looking up at the adept who had delivered the data-slate, he gave a carefully-modulated clearing of his “throat” as they turned to leave.

“The specimen,” he said. “Was it retained? Our cell would like to hold on to it.”

Connecting his own data-slate to the Tricorn's to make a copy, he turned the original towards the messenger, pointing to one sentence with a mechanical finger.

“This writing that was washed off. Could it not be deciphered?” He cocked his head at a slight angle, waiting for a response. “We would be very interested in the text itself.”

OOC: These are all my questions. Once they are done I am happy for Shryke to pull his skull out of the autoclave, rejoin Pyrrhus, communicate with the group back at base (enough to learn that we need a water purifier), make the necessary purchases and return to the watch station. Assuming Destro's had a chance to respond too, then if you want to bundle that all into one GM post to save time please go ahead.

[LeSwordfish]

Shryke's comm crackled. It was Gideon. "When you're done boiling your head, we've found a base of operations. Meet me at..." He scrabbled around, found an unburnt map, and rattled off a set of co-ordinates nearby. Safer than giving the direct location. "It's a bit dilapidated: if you can pick up a water purifier that should help. Right now, the water's the colour of cholera."

"Found anything interesting?"

[LCP]

"Found anything interesting?"

"Far too much," replied Shryke over the comm-bead. "The animals were apparently altered by some sort of sorcery. Ask Aria if she's heard of the Pilgrims of Hayte." He paused. "I'll tell you the rest when I get back."

[LeSwordfish]

"Understood. Vox me when you're nearby."

Gideon dropped the link, and turned slowly in the precinct's lobby. The light was bleeding out of the area, and he'd been forced to use his night-shades for nearly an hour now. Clearing the rubble and detritus was hard work, but he'd piled up as much scrap in front of the main door as he could, leaving gaps wide enough to shoot through. Hopefully, a single man with good aim could hold the front of the building now.

Admittedly, Gideon privately thought, I'd prefer not to be that man.

He opened the link to Aria and Marcus. "How are things with the generator? News from Shryke: he asks what you know about the Pilgrims of Hayte."

[Destro_Yersul]

"Good." The sergeant hesitated for but a moment, then took Brassel's hand. The youth would need some instruction, almost definitely, but that could happen in time.

"If you don't own a weapon, we'll need to find you one. You don't want to go unarmed. Ever." The sergeant was a walking affirmation of this philosophy. He'd kept his weapons on him, and ready, the whole ride back to the Tricorn. It was as if the soldier couldn't switch off. "What sort of weaponry are you familiar with? We'll need to get some food, as well, if we're going to be staying in the Southlows. Ration bars would be the best option, I think. Cheaper than anything else, and I just want them as an emergency fallback in any case."

Hopefully, the Tricorn would have some on hand. They weren't a hard item to find, normally. "Other than that, if you don't have a trade, I think it best you start learning one. We'll talk more about that later. I need to talk to someone..."

[Riddick]

“What can you tell me about this cult?” asked the tech-priest. “And the 'Dybuk' ritual, what is known about that? Does it require specific ingredients? Take a specific amount of time?” Taking his eyes away from the specimen, he turned to look directly at the adept. “If someone were creating more of these creatures, somewhere in the Southlows... how easy would it be for them to hide their activities?”

The adept looked up from cleaning a speck of blood from his -I- emblem on his coat. "I can't say I know much. The ritual will entail a great deal of suffering if only to draw the warp-fiends to the 'host'. I've heard of the Pilgrims using this more on men, not on animals, but as the lesser spirit that possesses enhances existing physical strengths and replaces their... 'self' with that of a daemon... well you can see the obvious benefits."

He pauses in thought for a moment. "I don't know on the ingredients, but that merits further effort. I imagine the suffering would cause quite a bit of noise and be hard to conceal for that reason?" he offered, helpfully.


~~~


“The specimen,” he said. “Was it retained? Our cell would like to hold on to it.”

Connecting his own data-slate to the Tricorn's to make a copy, he turned the original towards the messenger, pointing to one sentence with a mechanical finger.

“This writing that was washed off. Could it not be deciphered?” He cocked his head at a slight angle, waiting for a response. “We would be very interested in the text itself.”

The man turned and nodded, arms held in an at-rest position behind his back. "Yes sir, if you'll follow me, the lead analyst would probably like to have a few words with you if you mean to leave here with it."

The man took a moment to push his glances back up onto the bridge of his nose before politely going on. "We didn't wash it off sir. The writing was done with that liquid. Not that long ago either, perhaps a week."

He turned for the door. "This way, sir."

**

In another well equipped lab, several aged men looked up as Septimus and the other man entered. They were all standing around the very parchment the cell had delivered.

Exchanging a few whispered words, the adept that had led Shryke here and the lead analyst looked to the acolyte in unison. The lead analyst was rather short and rotund. His eyes glared at Septimus, not out of spite, but out of construction.

His eyes had been replaced with cybernetics. The Tech-Priest could tell at a glance that their utility closely matched his own mechadendrite.

The man approached and sighed with resignation, hearing that his newest cause of excitement was to leave once more in the hands of the cell. "So I will have to content myself with studying the picts taken of the parchment, hmm? Very well." The man handed over the parchment. The lab had treated the liquid used to write with something else, causing it show up in a clear black now.


http://i710.photobucket.com/albums/ww101/singularisanimus/BeFunky_words_of_Khakheperresoneb_wooden.jpg

His eyes whirred as they refocused and he continued on while taking a deep breath. "I've been doing this for over forty years and I've never seen anything like what you hold, or the writing it bears."

"You'll want to talk to someone who knows about ancient pieces. Maybe a collector or a dealer of sorts. Throne knows where you'll get a chance to talk to an antiquity expert though." He turned and walked away, shaking his head sadly.


~~~


"Good." The sergeant hesitated for but a moment, then took Brassel's hand. The youth would need some instruction, almost definitely, but that could happen in time.

"If you don't own a weapon, we'll need to find you one. You don't want to go unarmed. Ever." The sergeant was a walking affirmation of this philosophy. He'd kept his weapons on him, and ready, the whole ride back to the Tricorn. It was as if the soldier couldn't switch off. "What sort of weaponry are you familiar with? We'll need to get some food, as well, if we're going to be staying in the Southlows. Ration bars would be the best option, I think. Cheaper than anything else, and I just want them as an emergency fallback in any case."

Hopefully, the Tricorn would have some on hand. They weren't a hard item to find, normally. "Other than that, if you don't have a trade, I think it best you start learning one. We'll talk more about that later. I need to talk to someone..."

Brassel nodded as he listened. "I've only ever used slug throwers, mostly pistols."

The youth moved after Kerberos hurriedly. "Where we goin?" He asked. "Oh, I might be able to help with food in the Southlows... you got a strong stomach?"

The pair moved off as Brassel explained the finer points of eating pilfered beast feed from the Red Circus as well as the occasional charred creature that had fallen in the pits. Just the parts that Ingron wouldn't have missed that is. The youth figured he could do the same at another Circus if need be...


~~~

Ingron was escorted back to the acolytes when they were ready. He was patched up professionally with clean stitches and the wounds dressed in synth-skin. He looked haggard however, as if drained of fighting spirit.

After handing over the prisoner, the guards handed the cell members a single dose of Counterseptic in case the Interrogation ran longer than expected. It wouldn't do to have a prisoner drop from infection in the middle of questioning.

[LCP]

"We didn't wash it off sir. The writing was done with that liquid. Not that long ago either, perhaps a week."

"We found it after it had been blown clear of a hole in a window," said Shryke in reply. "I was under the impression the writing had been washed off by the rain."


~


"You'll want to talk to someone who knows about ancient pieces. Maybe a collector or a dealer of sorts. Throne knows where you'll get a chance to talk to an antiquity expert though."

Behind one plastiglass pane, Shryke might have raised an eyebrow. It was so difficult to tell.

"Is there a shortage of antiquities dealers on Scintilla?" he asked, neutrally. "I'd have thought one could find just about anything in Hive Sibellus."

"Of course, I'm not from here. Is there anywhere in particular I might look? An antiques district?" Sealing the parchment up in another of the sterile plastic bags from the lab, he pushed it into a pocket. "Once its place in the investigation has been determined, I will make every effort to return this specimen to your care."

[Riddick]

"We found it after it had been blown clear of a hole in a window," said Shryke in reply. "I was under the impression the writing had been washed off by the rain."


~

Behind one plastiglass pane, Shryke might have raised an eyebrow. It was so difficult to tell.

"Is there a shortage of antiquities dealers on Scintilla?" he asked, neutrally. "I'd have thought one could find just about anything in Hive Sibellus."

"Of course, I'm not from here. Is there anywhere in particular I might look? An antiques district?" Sealing the parchment up in another of the sterile plastic bags from the lab, he pushed it into a pocket. "Once its place in the investigation has been determined, I will make every effort to return this specimen to your care."

The adept started to shake his head slowly before he spoke. "Nnnno sir. The water we tested from the parchment was devoid any of the chems and pollutants that make up so much of our rainfall."

"There's several antiquity dealers but most of them are quite well off. Gaining an audience with one of them could prove difficult, especially with that auction coming up. The best ones will be taking time off to attend Krin's function, so I doubt you could catch them within their estates considering that."

[LCP]

"There's several antiquity dealers but most of them are quite well off. Gaining an audience with one of them could prove difficult, especially with that auction coming up. The best ones will be taking time off to attend Krin's function, so I doubt you could catch them within their estates considering that."

"Is that so?" said Shryke, doing his best to sound disappointed. The tech-priest was suddenly in a great hurry to be leaving: his body language didn't look disappointed at all. "Well, thank you for your help, adept. I must be on my way."

Striding quickly towards the door, he paused, turning back and making a beneficient gesture with one augmetic hand to his surroundings.

"Omnissiah bless this lab," he intoned, before hurrying back to rejoin Kerberos. It was time to tell the others what they had found.

OOC: Let's go!

[Destro_Yersul]

The sergeant, with Brassel, was just returning to the courtyard. He'd finished talking to his friend, and there would be a few new things on the way for them. Brassel had been given a sword from the circus, and Ingron's old pistol. Pyrhuss would have to set up a firing range and give him some instruction later - for now, it was more important to have him armed.

"Think I've shored up our emergency food stores," he told the techpriest. "Sorted our ride back to, well... wherever it is we're going, too. Gideon was pretty vague. Brassel says he can always scavenge a bit more food, if times get desperate."

OOC:
Back to the waystation we go, then. Purchases can be sorted soon.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon waited until the transport had left the three men and their cargo alone, and then dropped abruptly from the arteria gantry he'd been crouched in, cloak flapping like a corvid's wings, to land neatly in front of them. Enjoying the look of surprise on their faces- Aria and Marcus were almost used to this behaviour- he rose to his feet and brushed hive-dust from his knees.

"Mr Shryke, Cagemaster, I believe we've met. You must be Sargeant Kerberos, a pleasure, and your new friend..." He smiled politely at Brassel. "Don't panic, i don't bite."

"Our new base of operations is a few miles this way. If you'd care to follow me..."

---

It was late indeed when the group reached the patrol station. Gideon lead them inside through the enginarium doors, already speaking in a proprietorial air. "Enginarium in here- we've managed to move the Scarab i mentioned inside. Seems to be plenty of work space. Through there, a handful of cells- the cagemaster's destination, I believe. The large door is to the generatorium. And through there, stairs up to the lobby and the rest of the building."

[LCP]

"Our new base of operations is a few miles this way. If you'd care to follow me..."

"With pleasure," murmured the tech-priest. Reaching out, he wrapped one set of augmetic fingers around Ingron's wrist. They locked in place with a sound like the click-click of heavy keys. "This way, Cagemaster."


~

Following Gideon into the ruins of the watch station, Shryke released his captive with a rattle of loosening knuckles. The tech-priest surveyed their surroundings in utter silence. He didn't seem as pleased as Gideon at what he saw.

"How did this happen," he said in a hollow voice. For a moment, it seemed like it was the affront to Imperial law that had offended him so - that was before he stalked forward to the bullet-riddled shell of the Scarab, running one mechanical finger over its bonnet. Raising his hand in front of his face, he stared at the dust on his fingertip as if it had murdered some close relation.

"Left to rust."

Bowing his head, he placed his hand flat on the gutted machine and murmured a machine-code benediction, for all the world like a cleric performing the last rites. There was a somewhat awkward silence.

"You will show me the generatorium. The machine-spirits here will rise again." He turned away from the silent wreckage. "But first, I must report."

Proceeding further inside, Shryke ripped a large panel of flakboard from a wall that didn't look too load-bearing, laying it flat to act as a makeshift table. Sweeping it free of dust with his sleeve, he laid out the vacuum bags containing the parchment and the sample from the window in front of the rest of the group.

Speaking in brusque, clinical sentences, he shared what he had learned. When he had come to the end of the story, he paused, drumming one set of fingers against the tabletop.

"The script, the use of Herstromm's eye. They have significance to the killer. Occult significance, perhaps." He looked up at Marcus and Aria. "A subject on which I am unfortunately ill-informed. I am told, however, that many experts in antiquity will be present at House Krin's auction. They may be able to tell us more about these symbols."

Placing the two exhibits to one side, he interlocked his fingers. "It seems more than likely, however, that the animals falling between the cracks in our friend Ingron's book-keeping are being made into more of these 'Dybuks'. Our first priority must be to locate their creators."

Smoothly turning his head to look straight at their captive, he let his stare linger on Ingron for a couple of silent seconds.

"Mr Reinhart. Perhaps you might persuade the Cagemaster to help us."

OOC: Being lazy and not writing up a recap of everything in the posts above. If anyone would rather I did, just say - I'm just assuming that people have been reading along.

[LeSwordfish]

"The pilgrims of Hayte were behind the attack on Malfi, weren't they?"

"I think we might need to pass this up to the inquisitor. This could get nasty."

[Riddick]

Previously:

The Tricorn visitors, Kerberos, Shryke, Brassel, and the unwilling Ingron, stepped from the Inquisitorial fortress into the rain once more.

It hadn't eased up. Not even a little.

They caught a ride with an Arvus Lighter that was ferrying a Storm Trooper squad to the Lucid Palace. The Palace was the governmental center of the entire sector, and so the Inquisition loaned them top soldiers to strengthen such an important garrison.

Undoubtedly, some of the Troopers were spies for the Tricorn, keeping an eye on those with the visible power so that those that operated in the shadows were kept well informed.

Catching a tri-cab from the Lucid Palace's area was easy enough. The cell got an impressive view of the capital structure as the lighter came in for a landing. Despite the rain and the serious task at hand, the image could stir any man.

The five-wheeled transport, needed for all four of the men and their cargo, made the requested stop at a Munitorum depot. Pulling up to loading dock 11, Kerberos ran through a familiar ritual as he recalled the vox conversation he had not too long ago:

Pyrhuss keyed a familiar number into the vox. The clerk Augustin, working for the Munitorum's supply wing, was an old friend. He'd helped the guardsman before, supplying him with discounted explosive material, and Pyrhuss hoped he would do so again. "Niko," he said when the line on the other end picked up. "It's Pyrhuss. How're things on your end? I've got myself re-assigned, after, well, you know. I'm looking for... a few things, actually. First thing, though, how much would it cost me to have a crate of frag grenades diverted for my use?"

Augustin clicked on the vox and replied in a raspy voice. The years of lho use have taken its toll on his throat. "<Cough> Things are good on my end. The work never ends, you know how it goes."

"Let's see, I can get you a case of frags for 90, there's 10 in there. Or I could probably make a crate disappear for 450, give or take. Those crates hold 50 frags. I also take trade, but you know that."

"Yeah, I do. I've got a pile of guns and other weapons I found, thought I should send them where they'd be put to use in the Emperor's name. I'll take a case of the grenades. If I need more I can always call again. I'd like some fuel as well, if you can swing that." Pyrhuss paused, staring at the vox for a moment. Could he tell Niko what he needed these for? Likely not. He hoped the clerk wouldn't ask too many questions.

"What else, what else... vox-set, mabe. I'm not sure if I'll have access to one, otherwise. How'd you be about taking the extra guns and things off my hands for a bit of cash?"

"<Cough Cough> I'll see what I can do. What kinda shape are they in? If I can move em, I'll take em. I gotta be careful of mixing too many used pieces in with the crates of the new stuff. The inspectors actually inspect from time to time."

"So grenades, fuel, and a vox-set? Sounds like a party. The fuel is easy enough though, let me take a look around for a functioning vox-caster."

He leaves the vox set switched on and the sound of rummaging and coughing can be heard.

The receiver knocks around as he picks it back up. "Yeah, we got a vox-caster. I'll see you when you get here."

"Munitorum central distribution warehouse. Sector 7a, sub-level 4."

"Use loading dock 11."

"Great. These're... well, pretty used, most of 'em, but they ought to function well enough. Half the time I think that's the only requirement for some of the stuff they used to send us. If you had a good armourer go over the weapons, smooth out the dents and give 'em a nice mono coating, I bet you could move those easy. The guns are all sidearms."

Kerberos didn't have high hopes for the weapons. They could put them on the black market, or buy some goodwill from a gang, but it wouldn't sit well with the sergeant to do so. He sighed. "Alright, thanks Niko. I'll give you a shout when I can get to the loading dock."

Keying the vox as he arrived, Niko stepped from the depot into the rain and waved to Pyrrhus. The rain was coming down hard and the Munitorum agent squinted and tried to shield his precious lho as he pointed to a foot-locker and an ammo canister. Augustin did a double take back inside the depot as a voice called out. It seemed like he was needed and he waved at the Sergeant as he left him to finish the trade.

The two had dealing before on several occasions. A level of trust had been built.

Kerberos switched the arms-locker he had carried on the loading dock for the foot-locker he requested. Inside were several frag grenades and a vox-caster. Next to the foot-locker were the standard canisters for fuel.

Pyrrus placed the cash for payment in the empty ammo can, loaded the foot-locker and fuel, and left the depot. The whole stop took under two minutes. Behind the departing tri-cab, the rain pelted the arms-locker left behind.


~~~


Gideon waited until the transport had left the three men and their cargo alone, and then dropped abruptly from the arteria gantry he'd been crouched in, cloak flapping like a corvid's wings, to land neatly in front of them. Enjoying the look of surprise on their faces- Aria and Marcus were almost used to this behaviour- he rose to his feet and brushed hive-dust from his knees.

"Mr Shryke, Cagemaster, I believe we've met. You must be Sargeant Kerberos, a pleasure, and your new friend..." He smiled politely at Brassel. "Don't panic, i don't bite."

"Our new base of operations is a few miles this way. If you'd care to follow me..."

The tri-cab driver angrily took the fare money and reversed out of the area quickly, knocking over a refuse bin in his haste. This was not a good area and it just got worse the closer the acolytes got to their claimed waystation.

Taking turns carrying the arms-locker and fuel, even forcing Ingron to carry what he could, they eventually saw the looming enforcer waystation.

The gangers from before looked at the men quizzically from their perch outside the bar. Clearly, they did not expect the tourists to take their advice literally and actually move into the waystation.

More could come of that later, but for now, the mission demanded thier attention.

[Destro_Yersul]

"It could. I've fought... warp things, before. Not something you want to be messing around with." Pyrhuss hefted his flamer, the sergeant's face grim. "Only answer is to burn them all, but first we have to find the things. Maybe Ingron can help us, and if he can, I'm betting we can drag the help out of him whether he wants to give it or not, between Reinhardt and myself."

The sergeant had set the fuel down next to the scarab, for Shryke to use later. The rest of the equipment he'd bought, he could set up later. Probably need the techpriest to help with the vox-caster. The bulky guard units were powerful, it would be very useful for relaying microbead traffic later, if they needed to split up.

Which they would, since the auction invitation was only open for three, and the odd men out were likely to be Shryke and Himself. "This place is likely to take some fixing up, too. We'll have to balance our time. Brassel can help with that, I'd wager. We'll have to deal with the nearby gangs too - I saw them giving us the eye on our way in."

[LCP]

"We'll have to deal with the nearby gangs too - I saw them giving us the eye on our way in."

Momentarily closing his eyes, Shryke clenched his left fist. There was a sound from under the mask as of a long exhalation.

Opening his eyes again, he looked at Gideon, once again a model of composed calm.

"The sergeant has procured a vox-caster for this place," he said, speaking quickly. "If Miss Aria will assist me with her cogitator, we can transmit an encrypted report back to the Tricorn." There was the briefest of pauses before the tech-priest ran impatiently on. "As soon as we have finished gathering things to report. I think the Inquisitor would want to know what we are planning next, don't you? As well as what the Cagemaster told us. Before he became unfortunately incapacitated."

The tech-priest's eyes slid back to Ingron.

"Mr Reinhardt, will you be requiring any assistance?"

[Calimos]

Marcus welcomed the other acolytes as soon as they arrived in the former Enforcers' waystation, which had fallen to disrepair. Gideon, Aria and him had done what was possible to bring this place back to working order, as much as was possible, as well as to install a basic but functional alarm network, via the screamers he'd been carrying on his equipment, but there was still much to be done.

"It is good that you are here. Sergeant Kerberos, you could certainly use your experience in making this place, our current base of operations, much more safe, in terms of security countermeasures and defensibility status, in case we are attacked. And you Mr. Shryke will most certainly be invaluable in rousing the dormant machine-spirits in the generatorium area of the station. By the way, would you think that it might be possible to conduct repairs, to this - unfortunately damaged and left here - Scarab vehicle that once belonged to Scintillan enforcers? I do not think they'll be needing it and it might very well solve our transportation problem if it becomes operational at some later time.

Now, to the more serious matters. After your last transmission, I was alerted by Gideon to look into the Pilgrims of Hayte. I tried to remember all that I had encountered on them - in terms of information and first hand experience - from my days of active duty, both in the Adeptus Arbites and in the Divisio Immoralis, here in Scintilla. I also checked my notes and various files I had in my possession and managed to discern a few things. The news aren't exactly good. On the contrary lady and gentlemen. If the Pilgrims are indeed involved we have a damn serious situation in our hands and we should be even more careful and decisive to our approach.

The Pilgrims of Hayte themselves are a cult and more specifically an apocalypse cult totally and completely pledged in the service of the Ruinous powers. They want nothing more than to throw the Imperium into ruin and they're known for loathing members of the Ecclesiarchy even more than the rest of the failed system that Imperium is in their tainted eyes.

Regarding their modus operandi they revel in carnage, for it furthers their agenda and pleases the blasphemous gods that they worship at the same time. Commonly, they operate in cells, much like the august organization in which we serve. Therefore there's no guarantee that in case we manage to locate and capture someone of them, that he'll will actually know anything of use about other possible cultist cells in the area, since he may legitimately be unaware.

As far as their infamy and record track goes, the Pilgrims of Hayte are responsible for not only the Bloody Solstice on Malfi, a horrific attack where daemons and heretics ran rampant but also for the Doom of the Ardent Seeker, a horrific incident, where a False Prophet, (one of the so called leaders of the Pilgrims of Hayte), had secreted himself aboard the vessel along with more cultists. While traveling the warp, the Pilgrims rose up and overtook the vessel condemning 90% of the inhabitants to a tortuous fate.

What is even more worrying, is the fact that the cult has been observed to make open use of daemons on many occasions and this might prove especially problematic given the power and threat level of entities categorized under the "Enemy Beyond" classification. Considering that, Longshadow could either be a sorcerer of considerable power or even worse a daemonic entity of some kind.

Needless to say, we need to monitor the situation very carefully and report to our Inquisitor after any major development. To that point, excellent work Sergeant on securing and installing that vox-caster. Communication in this case we're dealing with will be of paramount importance".


*******

"Now on the matter of the items retrieved, news as reported by our comrades are certainly intriguing if not simply confusing. Millenia old parchments do not appear any day and it seems that yet another clue points us to the upcoming House Krin auction. Good thing you're on friendly terms with their representative Gideon. It might really pay off, in the course of next days".


*******

Marcus shifted his view to Ingron, who looked somewhat better or at least well enough to withstand an interrogation without the risk of permanent incapacitation prior to the extraction of any useful information.

"Cagemaster. Welcome to our humble abode. I see they took good care of you. I hope that you understand - for your own good that is - that we are not unreasonable men. We simply are utterly and completely loyal to the Immmortal God Emperor, the Golden Throne of Terra and to our duties. I will give you this one chance to come clear, provide us with all the information we require, regarding those beasts, the shady dealings between the various Red Circus establishments, Mr Scorzita himself and that strange tall and lean man "Longshadow" if you like. If you do this, I promise not to harm you any further. If not though, I will have to adhere to my duty and make sure to extract any and all information relevant to this case, from you, by any means necessary.And believe me you wouldn't like it. It is up to you".

He turned to his comrades and continued, as he awaited for Ingron's response.

"I have taken the liberty of preparing one of the basement holding cells of this facility into an interrogation chamber. Excruciator array is set up and ready. I might need your expertise Mr. Shryke. Have you ever conducted an interrogation or assisted during one?"

[LCP]

"No."

Rummaging in his robes, the tech-priest produced the vial of counterseptic they had been given.

"We were issued this, in case he required... further medical attention." He put the vial down on the makeshift table. "Whether you feel you need my assistance as a medic depends entirely on how seriously you are planning to injure him, Mr Reinhart. Otherwise, I will tend to the machines."

Sweeping some cement dust from his sleeve, the tech-priest made to rise.

[Riddick]

Ingron looked between Reinhart and Shryke as they conversed, their topic interesting him greatly. He didn't look terribly healthy to begin with, but the prospect of what was to come turned him a new shade of pale.

OOC:

When ready, give me an Interrogation test please. Anyone else with Interrogation can 'Aid' Marcus and add 10. Anyone with Intimidate or other fitting social skill can make a test along with Marcus in an attempt to aid the Interrogation in that regard.

Prior to rolling (or at the same time) please list your questions you'd liked answered in order of priority. You'll get one answer per DoS in this opposed test (assuming success!). Feel free to confer on the questions as they must be rather basic for each one. Ie no asking him for his life story for the past two weeks as one question.

As this can take some time etc, Anyone else's actions would be good too if work is going to be done on the waystation/scarab or further the knowledge base.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Maybe Shryke hasn't, but I have." The Sergeant drew his laspistol, checking the safety and staring pointedly at Ingron. "Battlefield interrogations tend to be messy, but I say it's no more than heretics deserve. Let's get him down to where you've set up your excruciator and then, if he won't tell us what he knows, we can just make him."

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon flicked out his knife, a wicked hunting knife. Not coincidentally, it was excellent for skinning, and as a beast-master, Ingron would know that.

"There's an interrogation cell through there." He said. "Chair with straps and everything."

[LCP]

"Enjoy yourselves, then," said Shryke. His tall, scarecrow-like frame folded nearly in half as he stooped to pick up Marcus' lascutter. "I will tend to the more deserving."

Slinging the cutter over his shoulder, he fished in his robes with his left hand for his combi-tool. Stepping out of the room with a determined air, he made for the generatorium. Soon, the reflections of spitting sparks and the echoes of baritone incantations began to drift through the rest of the old waystation...

[Riddick]

Ingron lowered his head and marched off into the make-shift interrogation room, followed by his questioners.

The Cagemaster was breathing hard and sweating heavily even before the questions began. He looked a mess, his eyes downcast as he shuffled towards the seat.

As the tools from the Excruciator were laid out on the table, the door closed muffling the already heavy breathing growing heavier.

~~~

Outside the waystation, the gangers looked up from harassing an underhive woman making her way home from a triple shift in the water reprocessing plant. Despite her weariness, she too joined the gangers in their perplexed looks as sound emanated from the derelict waystation.

A cry of agony split the air. As it subsided, the sounds of chanting and machine work drifted down to the bar's entrance.

The gangers exchanged looks and returned their attention to the woman, smothering her in piggish leering.

It was several minutes later when the faded and forgotten waystation hummed to life, light spilling from decrepit glow-globes, that the gangers truly took notice.

"What the frak?" One exclaimed to no one in particular. Seizing the moment, the weary woman sidled off while the gangers were distracted with their new neighbors.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon slipped away upstairs to the little patch of rooftop he'd marked away as his own, and cleaned the blood off his knife with a scrap of cloth.

He'd never had a problem with killing, but when it was close and personal it was different. Uncivilised. Animals killed up-close. And humans...

He rarely slept nowadays.

"I'll take a watch." He reported into the microbead. "I think tomorrow we need to conference. But for now, sleep and rest."

He swung up his sights, flicked them to night-mode, and began scanning the area.

[ChaoticSky]

OOC
This is why i hate missing stuff, theres too much there for me to respond to everything in a salient manner, so, im going to toss out some reinvent points to get aria caught up with the rest of you.
_______________________________

Aria had peeked into the risque establishment that the gangers were fronting while the others talked turkey, but came away almost instantly, blushing all the way to her ears. Evidently, there was such a thing as knowing too much.

She followed along with the others when they departed, eager to be away from there, and eventually entered the run down arbites station with the others. Aria peered around, and particularly at her own feet as she stepped carefully inside, apparently worried that the floor might collapse. Once the group had gotten a chance to look the place over, and the female Adept had assured herself the floor wasnt going to cave in and drop her a couple kilometres into the hives bowels, she tentatively added "Well... atleased its still standing..." in a tone normally reserved for 'oh look, i seem to have stepped in grox****'
_______________________________

"Mhmm Hecate..." Babble murmered to herself at the voxed query, "I'll check" she replied, fiddling with her slate for more information.

This is, clearly, where i made my roll, so amazing that it warped the fabric of space and time.

If you want me to actually roll, let me know, but we seem to be kinda past that now.

"Oh yes, Heretics..."
_______________________________

As the group prepared to work on the captive beastmaster, Aria looked rather sick, and hastily exited the chamber, while she was used to many of the horrors of their profession, if only in a freeze-solid-with-her-finger-on-the-trigger kinda way, there were things she was not yet endured to. Torture seemed to be one of them. If any of the others went looking for her, they would find her about as far away as it was possible to get and still be within the building, as she put as many walls between herself and the interrogation cell as she could.

[LCP]

Extricating himself from under the belly of the Scarab, Shryke stood up with a satisfied air. Dusting off his hands with a sound like two saucepans being scraped against each other, he opened the bullet-riddled door of the patrol car and folded himself into the driver's seat. The key was practically rusted in place, but it still turned: with a throaty growl, the engine started.

Turning it back off, the tech-priest sat back. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he was aware that a new day-cycle would be starting soon. He wasn't really feeling it, but if he ignored his biological components for too long they would probably start to shut down of their own accord. They were unreliable like that.

He heard Gideon's message come over the vox, and nodded to himself. For a first day, they had made a good start. For now, there was no-one among his new companions he would trust to watch over them more than the assassin.

Getting out of the driver's seat, he opened one of the car's rear doors and got back in. Lying down across the tattered back seats, the tech-priest went to sleep. Still held in his arms, like a child's stuffed toy, was the bright white skull of Ingron's Ogryn...

OOC: Ready to move on to morning when everyone else is.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Congratulations, Ingron," Pyrhuss said, handing one of the bloody tools out of the excruciator kit back to Marcus. "You have, at the least, convinced me that you are merely a fool, caught in heretical dealings much larger than yourself. The Emperor may have mercy on your soul after all."

Stepping back from the cagemaster, the guardsman holstered his pistol at last. He had found it interesting, to watch Marcus work, and to try his own hand at it. It was a different sort of tactic than he was used to from the battlefield, but no less effective at eliciting answers. "You've won your life, for now. Perhaps we will have more to ask you later."

The sergeant slept better than most, for what he'd seen. Sometimes, his dreams were troubled by nightmares, but Pyrhuss knew the truth. The Emperor protects, whether the terrors be real or imaginary. Leaving Ingron to his cell, and the others to their own work, the former guardsman found himself a nice place in the barracks to stretch out for the night. The last thing he did before he went to sleep was put his laspistol on the nightstand, with the safety turned on.

OOC:
Also ready to move on.

[Riddick]

Brassel watched what he could of the interrogation. Growing up in the underhive combined with his workplace had certainly made him grow accustomed to horrific sights, but he still silently left the room halfway through looking pale.

~

After the interrogation, he stood by the acolytes looking uncertain. He finally pitched in, not sure if what he knew was to be significant.

"<Clears throat> There's a place, down-hive. I've never been but heard about it. I've only heard rumors, ya know, but if half of em are true, this place makes the Red Circuses look pretty tame."

"They call this place the Iron Pit. Heard of it?"

[LeSwordfish]

"It doesn't ring a bell." Gideon said smoothly, "but I'm not local."

It was the next morning, and the acolytes were gathered around a low table, in what had perhaps once been an operations room.* Gideon stifled a yawn- "Do excuse me."- and continued to talk.

"I gave the matter some thought overnight, and I have been formulating a plan."

"The cagemaster suggested that, should anyone be able to trace the identity of Longshadow, it would be Scoritza, the owner and manager of the circus. Krin, the man myself and Aria met at the circus, suggested Scoritza could be found at the auction he is holding tomorrow evening."

"Gentlemen, my proposition: abduction."

"We kidnap Scoritza from the auction, and return him here for questioning. With information we extract from him, we should be able to make great leaps in tracking Longshadow."

"My plan at this time is very fluid, and although I have been running such missions for nearly a quarter-century, I'm very happy to take advice or assistance from any of you that would offer it."

He leaned forward on the table, in his element, and coughed delicately.

"For now, I have a few issues that need resolving. Firstly, the clarification on weaponry. If someone -perhaps Miss Aria- could place a call to the house Krin estate and ask, I'd be very grateful. Secondly, venom. Some kind of knockout solution would speed the abduction considerably. Whilst I'm sure it would not be hard to procure such a thing at the tricorn, perhaps Mr Shryke's chemical abilities could speed the process. And finally, blueprints or plans of the house. Usually, the arbitrators are the best place to acquire such things. Perhaps Marcus could ask nicely? Should it be necessary, we can then try not asking."
"Thoughts?"


*Everyone cool with me doing as Riddick suggested and moving to tomorrow? Good? Good.

[LCP]

Seated quietly at the table, Shryke listened to Gideon's plan with careful attention.

"Abduction. More challenging than termination."

Looking down at his hands as if deep in thought, the tech-priest took a moment before continuing.

"The patrol car is now functional. There is more work I wish to do before it is taken outside these walls, but with some minor assistance that should be completed today. It should work well enough for a speedy escape with a captive."

"If you can obtain the blueprints, I will see what weaknesses I can find in the auction house's systems. You will need a map of the surrounding area, too, to plan the escape." One mechanical hand made a movement that might have been Shryke's equivalent of stifling a tired yawn. "In fact, someone could scout the district in person today."

"The auction is not until tomorrow, correct? Until then, we can divide our attention. I have much work still to do here; perhaps some of you could combine a little investigation and scout work with finding some of the parts I will require. If you can provide me with the equipment, I will synthesise your toxin as well." Shryke paused. "I agree that Scorzita is the best lead, but he is not the only lead. This 'Iron Pit' in particular sounds like it would bear investigation, if we are to find the source of the Dybuks."

OOC: Assuming here that Shryke has been brought up to speed on the results of the interrogation.

[Destro_Yersul]

"The Iron Pit..." Sergeant Kerberos scratched his chin. He hadn't shaved recently, and the stubble itched. "Can't say I know of it, but it could bear investigating. If only to determine what manner of heresies it hides."

Leaning back, the sergeant continued. "I'm afraid I don't have too many ideas, myself. In the guard, you kick down the door and wash the room in prometheum. It's a lot simpler, but a lot less gets learned. Especially around fancy company. I do know one thing, though. Heresy likes to hide, it think itself secure in the darkness and away from the Emperor's guiding light. The deeper you go, the more filth and rot there is to burn out. So, for my part, I'll be heading downhive with anyone else that wants to come along."

"At least," he added after a pause, "Up until the auction. FOr that, I think we'll all want to be in one place. Something like that, you don't try it without backup."

[ChaoticSky]

Aria plopped down at the breakfast table, blinked, and yawned, her hair looking no more or less uncombed than it ever did. It took her a long moment to realize there was no food in the offering, and that the breakfast table was infact, some other form of table, "Well, its probably unsanitary anyway" she remarked, glaring at the tarnished surface.

Thereafter, her brain seemed to catch its gear and she swiftly picked up on the conversation, "Its abit short notice, and chancy all things considered, but we may beable to fish for information about Scor' at the auction its self, someone there would have to know him well enough for him to get invited in the first place, and if no one does.... that would be somewhat telling in its self would it? As for the idea of posion, i dont see it working... my understanding is that its a common ploy among the nobility and that devices to detect poisons are quite common. My slate even has one integrated into its design. If our target moves in these circles, hed almost certainly be similarly forearmed. Alternatively, couldnt we just express interest in acquiring some of his 'special' merchandise and arrange a meet up, then take him? It seems much neater than dragging a semiunconcious captive past the security at a invite only noble auction."

[Calimos]

Some years ago...

An old and obscure facility somewhere in Calixis sector. A cold and dark room at the end of a long corridor, with the lights flickering, as two robed and hooded individuals made their way towards it. "Here we are son. It is time you put what you learnt to the test. We need to extract the truth from that scum. Make sure we do. We have taught you well".

The door opens, rusty iron whining audibly. A switch is turned on and a trio of lamps emit their focused and blinding light towards an unfortunate individual, the prisoner of that room. The inhabitant of the cell that comes under the attention of the hooded figures.

A small table on wheels is brought in the room. Arrayed on it, a selection of carefully prepared and chosen instruments of torture and coercion. Drugs, injectors, truth serums and other more unsavory tools, to inflict pain and agony and extract what is hidden in the deepest chambers of the victim's mind. One figure removes his cloak, getting more comfortable, injects a syringe to the detained man's throat veins with surgical precision and begins his grim task. Interrogation...

An art unto itself. Subtle yet also gruesome at times. Quick, yet also prolonged and tortuous, should resistance or incompetence was displayed. A valuable tool in service to the Throne of Terra, yet a despicable practise to those faint of heart or filled with compassion. A hard task, yet someone's got to do it. And Marcus did it, as he had learnt all too well, by his mentor and his teachers, quite some time ago...


*******

The door closed as all left the interrogation chamber. All but Marcus. The hardened Arbitrator regarded the subject of his interrogation still, with unflinching, if somewhat tired eyes. It was his principle never to go further with his "persuasion" techniques, that required to extract the desired information. Leaving broken husks out of prisoners wasn't his habit. His was merely to carry out a duty, a necessity, so that lives could be saved, so that Imperium woould survive. He wasn't a sadistic monster, or so he used to say to himself in comfort, during the night hours of solitude.

He cleaned meticulously his excruciator's parts and tools, and placed them in their respective cases. Then he took some water and gave it to Ingron, helping him drink, before applying some on a cloth to his forehead, face and neck. Making sure he was securely tied, he did what was possible to adjust his position and manacles, in an effort to ease his current state. They might need him later on and Marcus needed to make sure that he'd be in shape to stand a second inquiry or a trial in the future, if need be.

The former Warden finished the last of his tasks in the room and exited, locking the door. He heard the others talking and carrying out various tasks in the safehouse, yet he was not in shape to talk at that moment. He needed some rest. He had discovered a while ago that those procedures involved in interrogations had a strange effect on him. And that was why he prefered to utilise the threat of force and torture or the notion of it even more than actual violence and torture. Fill a syringe with a liquid, declaring loudly that it's a truth serum or a psychotropic drug, inject the detained subject and let his own subconscious create those effects and impose them upon his psyche. A placebo effect of sorts and a trick that had worked more than once. Of course this was not always the case and more than once it was necessary to resort to other solutions. In any case, interrogations were taking their toll on him, even he went a long way to hide it.

As he took some time to rest, the information they had recently acquired came to his mind, and he was quite trooubled trying to figure a connection or remember any relevant clues from previous investigations or cases he had seen in the past.


*******

After getting some necessary rest, Marcus rejoined the others. Hearing the young lad, Brussel, talking about the infamous Iron Pit, his face darkened.

"I've heard about it. As a matter of fact, its reputation quite precedes it and your description of it in comparison to the Red Circus is quite accurate".

He turned to the other acolytes and continued.

"It is supposedly the most secret and worst of the arenas and circuses, connected with the Beast House, in our planet of Scintilla and quite possibly in the whole sector, given its magnitude. Only in rumours and hushed tones one will hear about this place, and then again nothing is certain. Nothing other than the fact that in this hellish maze of iron, man and xenos, the most horrific and vile beasts can be observed, fighting each other or various "gladiators" for the pleasure of the high profile or high notoriety individuals that frequent this place, betting on the demise of those unfortunate enough to participate in the "festivities". Lady, and gentlemen, we're talking about a serious business here, possibly the center of the Beast House activity in the local Underworld society. If our man, Longshadow, can be traced there, we have a daunting task ahead of ourselves and even that is an understatement.

Now, about Scorzita and the auction. Our clues converge on him being our greatest chance for information and advancement in this case. If there's someone knowing more about Longshadow, it'll be him and besides, due to his place in the local underworld, he'll be privy to much more than that. We should see what we can do, in terms of going forth with that abduction plan you mention, we should scout the area and acquire as much useful knowledge on the surroundings and on him and his retinue as possible, before moving in for the deed. It is great to hear that the vehicle is functioning again and that we are restoring the enforcer's station back to its working order. On my behalf, I'll try to help as much as possible, in any way you deem most appropriate".

[LeSwordfish]

"As for the idea of posion, i dont see it working... my understanding is that its a common ploy among the nobility and that devices to detect poisons are quite common. My slate even has one integrated into its design. If our target moves in these circles, hed almost certainly be similarly forearmed. Alternatively, couldnt we just express interest in acquiring some of his 'special' merchandise and arrange a meet up, then take him? It seems much neater than dragging a semiunconcious captive past the security at a invite only noble auction."

"Believe me." Gideon said with a rueful smile. "I've considered it. However, unless i'm much mistaken, the auction is neutral ground. Scoritza will be unable to bring too much power to bear then. What if we arrange a meeting and he turns up with thirty workers and an autocannon? No, I think abducting him from the auction will be far easier than meeting him on his terms. In addition, should the situation deteriorate, in civilised circumstances we can exert our inquisitional authority. It's a last resort, for sure, but one we would not have when surrounded by villains."

"I'll admit, I forgot about venom-sniffers. Should Scoritza be using one, we must adjust our plans accordingly... but I defy him to detect venom in a syringe to the neck."

He turned and gave Brassel a calculating look. "What do you know about Scoritza? Or any associates of his."



"Now, about Scorzita and the auction. Our clues converge on him being our greatest chance for information and advancement in this case. If there's someone knowing more about Longshadow, it'll be him and besides, due to his place in the local underworld, he'll be privy to much more than that. We should see what we can do, in terms of going forth with that abduction plan you mention, we should scout the area and acquire as much useful knowledge on the surroundings and on him and his retinue as possible, before moving in for the deed. It is great to hear that the vehicle is functioning again and that we are restoring the enforcer's station back to its working order. On my behalf, I'll try to help as much as possible, in any way you deem most appropriate"

Gideon nodded through Marcus's speech. "Thank you. I myself was hoping for some time to stake out the location for the auction. I would be very happy to head up-hive and purchase any ingredients or equipment needed, in addition to searching for blueprints and information."

He leaned back and yawned again. "I also need to clean Charlemagne. The slide was working a little stiff at the arena. I suspect the poor girl feels neglected after so long cased up."

[ChaoticSky]

Aria nodded, apparently appeased, but she still looked worried "You do that, and I'll hide under a table until the shooting stops?" she offered hopefully, but clearly not expecting to be that luckey. Afterwards, the Adept gave the table a nod, and rose, "I'll make those calls now, Weapons, anything else?" she asked before turning away and tracking down a working vox. She first contacted the Tricorn to pull the needed contact information, then phoned said numbers and using her very best formalspeak, relayed that her lord would like to enquire about the House's customs regarding personal arms at the auction.

[Riddick]

He turned and gave Brassel a calculating look. "What do you know about Scoritza? Or any associates of his."

Brassel shrugged unhelpfully. "I'm sorry. I've only seen him the one time he came by to check on the Circus and the pleasure house across the street. He had two brutes with him but beyond that, he looked quite normal... if not sinister, but don't all Malfians look that way? He owns a bunch of the Red Circuses and most of the pleasure houses I hear. His life is his business, goes the rumor."

The youth looked like he wanted to offer more but simply couldn't. The lack of knowledge cutting him short.


~~~

Gideon was the first to leave the waystation, as he had a full day ahead of him. It was still before noon for the day and so the bar outside and the gangers were out of sight, likely sleeping through the slow part of the day.

It took quite a while to move up-hive. Along the way, Gideon arrived at the commercial district of sector 619, 'The Factorum'. The Factorum was once a massive industrial complex now renovated into a merchant's Mecca. Areas that once housed raw materials had been renovated into wide store fronts while other, smaller areas sold specialized gear or materials. The wholes structure was covered with a domed, patchy ceiling that leaked when it rained like it had been for days. There were puddles all around and the tarps pitched over the individual stalls drove the falling water away from the valuable goods. The area looked like a collage of colors with all of the varied tarps.

Gideon had a good chance of finding the various items he sought in this place.

~

Afterwords, Gideon settled down for a potentially lengthy recon of House Krin's coming auction. The building was well kept and many floors high. The Lucid Palace loomed over the cityscape in the distance. Through the ever-falling rain, the sniper could make out valets moving vehicles for dignitaries and well-to-dos across the street at the highly renowned 'Hotel Azul'.

The guests for the auction that were not from Hive Sibellus, would in all likelihood stay at the Azul. Extravagant, engraved pendulum cars moved from floors on the House Krin building to the Azul. The complex system would take wealthy patrons from an floor of the Azul to the tenth floor of the Krin estate for events. Events like the auction the following evening.

Currently, several haulers from various catering firms and event providers were present, unloading their wares and equipment into the building. Always present were House Krin contracted Wards. They carried potent looking sidearms and their bulky yet fine clothing seemed to conceal body armour of some variety.

The rain continued to fall, causing the caterers, artists, and providers to hurry to and fro.


~~~

Aria was connect to a Krin representative right away. The lady answered politely but an air of pompousness drifted across the vox-channel as she ran through the too-long introduction.

+Greetings. This is Saleetia from the honorable House Krin - the financiers of the sector. We at House Krin believe that by lending a hand, we all can stand taller...+

On and on she went. Eventually she answered Aria's question:

+Oh yes, this year retainers are allowed one side arm and one hand weapon of choice. Of course, your master may enter the glorious event with the same armaments+

She thanks Aria for her well-put inquiry and congratulates her master on his invitation to the event - such is the glorious reputation of House Krin.


~~~

As Marcus and Kerberos step from the waystation and begin their walk down the ramp leading to the raised structure, the mohawked ganger seen before strode up to the two men.

"Ay! What...uh, what'ya you and yours doin in der, hmm? Who are ya?"

He asked bluntly. Behind him, a few more gangers looked on. Their hands rested on weapons or hung lazily in their hands as they sat, watching the exchange.

[Destro_Yersul]

"We have been asking questions," The sergeant answered, equally bluntly. The weapons the gangers were carrying didn't really frighten him. He'd seen worse. Much worse. "It's nothing you need concern yourself with. We won't be asking you any such questions unless we know you have answers you aren't giving."

Beyond that, the sergeant left it to Marcus to give the ganger a more complete answer, or not.

[LeSwordfish]

Gideon lowered his magnoculars. The pendulum car was interesting- it looked like a way in or out.

He dropped from the flue he'd been crouched in, and darted across the rooftop to the shadow of a pair of tall vents belching smoke. He keyed his microbead to the agreed frequency and began to speak in the agreed cell dialect.

"Crow calling. Pattern Phaeton, risen, returning." Base, it's Gideon. Observation complete, information gathered. Moving closer for further observation.

From his new vantage point, he could see the pendulum cars better, but there was a balcony with a boarded-up door down there which could see the entire street and garden...

Gideon waited until he was as sure as possible that nobody was looking and sprinted down the slope of the roof. A long leap took him to a pole from which a banner hung. He pulled himself over the pole, and kicked off from the banner to reach the balcony.

He took his time to lie on the balcony, still as death, waiting for enough time to pass for him to be sure any observer would have turned away, then gently raised the magnoculars again.

[Calimos]

Marcus smiled slightly, beneath his hood, at the sergeant's no-nonsense attitude. He made a gesture of greeting towards the nearby gangers, before responding to their question.

"Good day gentlemen. We've been here recently, and as my associate said already, asking around for a few things. Nothing too fancy going on inside, not that it's anybody's business. I didn't ask how you handle things in your own establishments did I now? Anyway, nothing that would disturb your own peace and quiet, I hope, as good neighbours. Now, as for your first question, I am Mark. Glad to meet you sir. My partner here isn't much for talking, but it's of no problem. You do seem quite savvy about the things that go on around here, and word is on the streets that there are some nice places for people who are interested to watch some fine spectacles. You know, blood sports and the like. What was the name again...oh yes, they called the place Iron Pit, I think.

Now, I understand it to be a rare establishment, for people of refined and wild tastes at the same time, if you catch my drift, pal, so I know not to ask just anyone about it. But you do look like someone who isn't messing around and knows what he's doing, so I figured out you'd be the person to inquire about it. After all, you did point my friends to this fine place, and we're set up all nice and cosy in there, so this tells me you know what you're doing, aint that right? So, have you or your crew heard anything about where this Pit might be located or who might be able to give us some more info on the subject?

OOC


Allright. I'm going to put some (hopefully) relevant rolls here, to see if we can get some information from those guys.

Common Lore (Underworld) (to enhance my dealings with them) [roll0] vs 50


Inquiry [roll1] vs 50

Charm [roll2] vs 30

Deceive [roll3] vs 40

Scrutiny (to evaluate any potential answers) [roll4] vs 35

[LCP]

In the gloom of the watch station's engine room, white sparks were spraying in spasmodic flares.

“Mighty device,” intoned Shryke, lowering the lascutter and pulling away a bullet-riddled section of the Scarab's hull. Its edges still glowed a dull red against the tech-priest's metal fingers. “Hallowed be thy function.”

He laid the buckled plating down, picking up a replacement he had cut from the refuse of the watch station's walls. The bare metal had a brute purity; it would almost be a shame to cover it with paint. But rust could not be tolerated.

“Thy parts restored,” continued Shryke, producing his multi-tool. The complex device whirred and screamed as he began to bolt the freshly-fashioned armour in place. “Thy systems revived, on earth as it is in the schematics.”

Reaching out while he worked, the long, sinuous arm of the servo-claw uncoiled across the engine room floor. Feeling its way like a snake, it seized on another carefully-prepared plate and pulled it sharply up to where the tech-priest was working. Tightening the last screw, Shryke took the new plate and nodded to his servo-claw as if it were a human assistant.

“Give us this day thy willing service, and forgive this component its failure, as we forgive its manufacturers.” Another spray of sparks. “Carry us not into danger, but deliver us with acceleration. For thine is the engine, the power and the torsion.” A nut was tightened. “Forever and ever. Omnissiah vult.”

Stepping back, he dusted his hands with a familiar metallic clap of augmetics. The rusting hull section was gone: in its place, segmented plates of newly-shaped steel overlapped each other in layered, geometrical patterns. It was one of the first armour designs Shryke had learned, and one of the best.

There was still much to do. Walking around to the other side of the car, the tech-priest hefted the lascutter once again, his servo-claw stretching out to scoop up a stack of laser-cut plates. His voice echoing through the derelict watch station, Shryke began to hum in a surprisingly melodious baritone.

The sons of Mars go forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain.
Their blood-red banner streams afar,
Who follows in their train?

He was clearly enjoying his work.

[Riddick]

Marcus & Kerberos:

The ganger's demeanor swayed from hostile, to defensive, to something that could be called amicable.

He leaned in close as he glanced at his gang-mates, ensuring they were out of earshot. "Ahhhh, listen chum. My tastes are as refined and wild as they come, an' I aint nevah been to dis 'ere Iron Pit."

"I 'eard of it too, tho, ya know." The man looked Marcus in the eye and then glanced at Kerberos. He did a double take at the flamer as if seeing it for the first time.

"Frak me, hostin' a barbecue, ay?" He looked back to Marcus with a sigh.

"Look, I know it's gotta be down there. Too many rumors an' tales for it not to be. I jus' dunno where it is. That place is outta my pay grade, as it were," he stated with a frown.

"I wouldn't just go waltzing around in a general 'dat-way' direction in hopes of findin' it either." He said as he pointed down to the plating at their feet.

"It's deaf down der, you know dat, right? Muties, skivvers, man-eaters... both da beast an' man kind, and den der's da brutes dat run dat joint. Right hard killers, I hear."

He shakes his head. "Nah chums, I wouldn't." He finished simply as he turned and returned to his men, lighting a lho stick as he went.

OOC:
I'm afraid that while the ganger wanted to help, he couldn't. However, your excellent interaction rolls will help the cell in the future by way of not having your waystation hit by territorial gangers.

At least for now.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria nodded politely on the comm, not-listening to the endless speel, glory to glorious house krin, may it endure in glory.... She was seized by a powerful, if childish, desire to scream 'GLORYGLORYGLORY' into the receiver and hang up. As it was, she resisted the urge and let the woman continue to ramble on, and when the receptionist paused for a breath, cut in with a additional question; "Could you perchance forward a copy of the Glorious House Krin's blueprints? My Lord wishes to survey his options for making a grand entrance, and would be most unhappy if for example; after being dropped off on a Terrace, enters to find himself in a pit rather than a raised dais. Or some other undignified situation."

'Please be that stupid...' Aria prayed silently.

[Destro_Yersul]

"No? Unfortunate. I should have liked to see what manner of things they have down there. Well, if you can't point us in its direction, perhaps you could point us at someone who can?" The sergeant was not to be so easily dissuaded. He was also not about to outright antagonise the ganger, if the ganger honestly didn't know. This approach seemed best.

[Calimos]

"Thanks, man. We heard it would be tough and all, and I trust someone of your experiences enough, to believe what you said about the high risks and danger in that sort of place. Given though, that due to your status you could be hooked up with a couple o' guys higher up the pay-grade chain, could you give us a pointer perhaps, as my man here said, about who to seek next? Someone who might be more involved in that beast and man, thrill-and-danger business eh?"

The hardened arbitrator noticed the Sergeant's polite insistence on the matter, and decided to give it a try as well. Having another link in the chain of contacts that could point them to the Iron pit would be worth it.

[Riddick]

The ganger eyed the two warily, weighing his options. He had a thick scar over one eye that looked exaggerated and rather nasty when he made that face.

At last he nodded. "I tell ya what, chums. In der," he threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the bar, "is me boss, Talga Two-Times. You two can see what he'll say. He might help ya..."

A feral grin crept onto his face. "Or he might not. Talga don't do much without payment or favors, though."

The short ganger tapped on his own chest. "Tell em Wink sent ya. Uverwise, yer likely to get shot."

~~~

Aria held her breath in anticipation. Would the Krin representative freely give out what she sought?

Several long seconds filled the dead air before the woman came back.

"Oh yes. Yes, of course. Here is a floor plan for the event." The data siphoned through the connection to Aria's slate. The woman continued her banter. "You'd be surprised at some of the requests we receive. Just this morning I was asked what variety of glow-globes the event will utilize so that the splendid Vicount Shavieh can plan her gown's undertones accordingly."

The woman concludes their brief session extolling the glory of House Krin.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Very well. We'll see what he has to say, then." The sergeant entered the bar the ganger had indicated, hopefully with Marcus behind him. Unfortunately, he didn't know what Talga looked like, so he'd have to ask someone.

[Calimos]

Marcus nodded to the ganger, whispering "Thank you. I won't forget it. Stay safe", and followed Sergeant Kerberos inside, thinking on how best to approach their next person of interest.

As soon they were inside, Marcus looked around, taking in the surroundings and measuring the individuals inside, trying to gauge their level of skill, competency and lethality in a potential hostile outcome as well as discern perhaps some clues regarding their underworld affiliations. Then, he walked up to the barman and inquired on when and if he could meet Talga, stressing the part that he was sent by Wink.