The War of the Shadow IC

[Riddick]

The War of the Shadow

Hive Sibellus – The Tricorn



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:

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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

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:

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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

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:

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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

[Maugan Ra]

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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...

(1d100)[39]

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

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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
(1d100)[99](99)

-20 Schol. Lore (Imperial Creed) test
Int 53 -20[Pen] = 33
(1d100)[98](98)

+20 Forb. Lore (Inquisition) test
Int 53 +20[Skill]+10[Bon] = 83
(1d100)[65](65)

-30 Awarenes
Per 40 -30[Pen] = 10
(1d100)[87](87)
(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:

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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]

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(1d100)[14] 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:

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Tech-Use to get the crime scene images out of the projector, if a test is necessary:
(1d100)[31] (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:

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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

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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.

(1d100)[78] 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.

(1d100)[24] 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.

(1d100)[86] 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.

(1d100)[40] vs 40 or 50

[Riddick]

The Southlows

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:

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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:

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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: (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?
• 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: (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

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]

[Riddick]

OOC:

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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

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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)

[Riddick]

OOC

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

[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."

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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?"

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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

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.

OOC:

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-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:

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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:

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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:

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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.

Search - (1d100)[2]
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: (1d100)[86]


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

*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.