RedSand's Heresy

[RedSand]

Rain batters the roof of your shuttle. A storm rages on amidst your flight, giving the drive a steady chorus of pitters and patters. The shuttle flies low as distant sounds of thunder menace the sky. The more superstitious among you might consider that a bad omen, but the driver tells you that on Minerva VI, it's always raining, and he certainly hopes you brought a coat.

The city seems built for it. The spires of the upper hives, normally tall and defiant, seem to have been built lower and wider, like iron ziggurats, and even the proudest are burnt in places. Every structure, large to small, looks to be a part of a planetwide drainage system; the streets themselves seem to be half walkway, half sluice. If you listen carefully, you can just barely hear the moan of rainwater rushing through pipes, a citywide expression of discomfort.

The sound just might fit the atmosphere of the shuttle, though. With five passengers, the shuttle was cramped, not enough that anyone lacked for leg room, but just enough that there was nowhere to look without someone occupying the corner of their eyes. Each of them held a ticket with a symbol on it that no one quite understood. None of them were from the same occupation, or looked to even be from the same planet. None of them knew each other's name,or where they were going. But that ticket had gotten them on this planet, and on this shuttle, and then onto who knows where. The driver kept his eyes on course, and tried not to think inquisitive thoughts. After all, everyone knew that only led to trouble...

Spoiler: Lets Get Started

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Alright. Time to get posting. Feel free to introduce your characters in whatever way you see fit. Be sure to give a description of what they look like, in as much detail as you fancy. Roll any checks you feel appropriate, but keep anything you roll inside a spoiler tag. Do the same for any immediate concerns or questions regarding a scene you wouldn't want addressed in the OOC chat.
This scene will conclude at noon Monday, barring requests or sudden bursts of activity.

[Saulk]

The rain falling outside of the shuttle was faintly echoed by the tapping of a single padded finger upon the bench where Gaius Fabrex say. The sound made a pattern occasionally, but mostly seemed to be random to anyone who was listening. Tap...Tap Tap...Tap Tap...The steady cadence continued as the Tech Priest stared absently forward, neither noticing or caring if anything moved within his field of vision. Strands of stringy and oil-soaked nearly white hair fell down over his face, occasionally hanging in front of his eyes as the motion of the shuttle jarred the strands, but he paid no mind. The only sound that showed the Priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus was even alive was the slow, patient hiss of air coming in and out of his respirator. His heavy red robes were wrapped around his spindly form, bulky only around the back and in the middle, around the lower part of his spine and rib-cage. In his other hand, the hand not tapping the bench, he held a long black metallic staff, carved across its entire length with circuit like lines, glowing a faint blue even in the relatively grimy light of the shuttle. A las-carbine was clearly slung across his back. Heavy boots covered his feet, protruding from the floor-length robes the Priest wore. His pallor showed up immensely in the light of the shuttle, clearly marking him as one of the voidborn. He shifted almost effortlessly amidst the turbulence of the craft, a marking of his origin. Another part and parcel of his origin, the sense of malaise that others felt around his type, would surely set in, but it would take an act of the Emperor or the Omnissiah himself to make Gaius notice. Abruptly, the tapping that had been going on ever since the ship first entered the storm stopped, and the tapping hand returned to hold his staff.

"Calculations complete. There is a less than 1% chance this craft will be struck by a significant electrical discharge. Rain drop patterns conform to spread Epsilon-Alpha 14, suggesting pressure indicative of normal conditions along our current vector." The voice came grating and mechanical from the grille of his vox-respirator. It was the first words he had spoken since boarding the shuttle, and the only he spoke for some time. After completing his statement, he paused, turning towards each of his fellow passengers, his eyes now alive but moving disturbingly rapidly and seemingly at random, scanning each of them. His eyes lingered on any distinguishing characteristics, weaponry, or other technology, continuing from the head of the person he is currently observing, all the way down to the feet. When he was done with one, he would pause for a moment, close his eyes, and then move on to the next, doing the same for each of his fellow passengers.

[KasmKat]

Constantine sat quietly near the back of the shuttle, a Hulking brute of a man, His fine robes looking too small for him and a quiet smile upon his face, as if he knew something no-one else did. Idly stroking the eagle resting on his lap and he looked around, seeming to, for the first time, notice he wasn’t actually alone on the flight, His hand unconsciously closing on the Locked black case attached to his belt.

“So, how did all of you get roped into this then?” He asks quietly, His cultured voice giving the lie to his appearance, Inspecting each of his apparent companions carefully, keeping all but the smallest sneer from showing on His face. Not waiting for anyone to answer he continues speaking, “Well it certainly looks like a miserable place, Why couldn’t we have been sent to one of those pleasure planets, that’s what I want to know? I’m sure they have plenty there that would keep us distracted…” He adds with a conspiratorial wink to no-one in particular.

Seeming to lose interest in what anyone has to say, his hand once more strokes the eagle on his lap as it softly flaps it's wings, "No Laschiel, calmly now..." he mutters softly to it, his eyes half closing as he slips back into his previous half sleeping state, inspecting the others again from beneath his lowered eyes, Wondering, as he was sure they were, just what he had gotten himself into, and how to get back out of it, His hand idly drumming on the case at his belt.

[Saulk]

Gaius's eyes first fell upon the robed figure bearing the bird. His mental assessment stops, and he tilts his head slightly at the question, beginning to answer quietly, noticing that the figure has not stopped to hear the answer. "A ticket was received. Orders were given to depart and pursue this path. Attention to answer has waned. Returning to previous examination."

His eyes continued to flick across the hulking figure, noticing the mannerisms he was displaying, as well as the eagle. "Eagle. Deemed irrelevant for future conversation. Purpose unknown. "Pleasure planet" is also inconsistent with the designation of Minerva VI." He finally looked directly at the hulking man. "I am designated Gaius Fabrex. Who are you, and what is your purpose?"

[Dr.Gara]

Darius, a tall, heavily built bald man, in the flak armor of the Imperial Guard. He is light skinned, and has a long scar down the side of his face, the mark of some old battle, some wound. He checks his gear, again, counting out shells and looking at his lasrifle's power cell. He checks the edge of his large combat knife, before sliding it back into it's sheath high on his chest. He rubs at his temples, fighting a headache, and closes his eyes.

"I pulled a guy out of a firefight. Now I'm here." he looks at the Tech-Priest when he speaks, quickly suppressing any feeling of being unnerved. He's a holy man. The faithful have nothing to fear of them. He looks back at Constantine. "The rain's not too bad. Gives a bit of texture to the air. Besides, place like this, you know what's going on more. Less likely to catch a knife in the back when you're already looking behind you. He checks his gear again, unconsciously, before snapping out a book and opening it. He sighs, trying to relax himself. Nerves get you killed all too well.

[Saulk]

"Imperial Guardsman. Training and discipline satisfactory. Attention to the gun's spirit: admirable. Facial wound present. Rudimentary medical implantation does not permit diagnosis of potential impairment. Preliminary assessment: Minimal impairment." Gaius's eyes fell on the gun once more. His head tilted slightly. "I possess an inclination to hypothesize. Indulging in primitive mental instinct." His tone changed to something that was slightly (but only very slightly) more human-like. "I think we're going to end up working together. We all have the same ticket after all. There has to be some purpose." The moment could almost be felt to pass, before he began to speak the way he had been previously. He extended a hand, pointing almost uncomfortably straight at the lasrifle. "If the spirit of the machine becomes ill-tempered in possible ensuing combat, I will ease its soul." He let his hand fall.

[KasmKat]

Looking back at Gaius, Constantine smiles slightly, that same Knowing Smile from before, “I am Constantine Litlelus, just a humble Scholar. and yes, I too Believe we are going to be working together, I do hope whatever I can do to help is enough."

Looking over towards the guardsman with a friendlier smile, inspecting him closer, “Do you believe we are in fact going to need to look out for people stabbing us in the back, surely you don’t already suspect one of us?” waving towards the other passengers, his smile changing to a shocked look, with just the hint of a smirk in his eyes and the twitch of his lip giving lie to his true feelings.

[Dr.Gara]

Darius first looks at the priest, putting away the small book. "Thank you, Priest. The maintenance of the machine spirit is important to function, and none perform better then your kind. I pray that it isn't needed." He exhales quietly, calming himself. The faithful have nothing to fear of him. Darius is faithful. He has no reason to fear the Tech Priest.

He turns to Constantine, studying him, staring at him. He breaks his staring, and clears his throat. "Oh no, of course not. I don't think I have to worry about anyone in this cabin. I'm Darius. And if we aren't working together, then I have absolutely no idea what line of coincidence lead us here. It's either a conspiracy, or another conspiracy. Either way, we're here." He doesn't check his weapons again, it having been pointed out by the priest.

[Cogsrow]

-Meanwhile as they talk, lasciel simply sat in the back of the shuttle ignoring them, she was slowly twisting her ring of suffrage as she recited the 1001 solemn prayers of the emperor. She was a woman of average height and build, though figure and such was hard to tell through the carapace armor on her body. She had a mesh cowl pulled over her head, hiding anything but a few whispy strands of short snow white hair. on her hip was a bolt pistol and a flail.-

[OOPWER]

A yawn betrayed Caleb's boredom as he waited for the shuttle to arrive at their destination. A pistol was holstered at his side, and an autogun was held in his lap. His mind briefly flickered back to home, the Questing Wolf, his family's ship. There he'd been a duelist, and he still missed his old sword: a work of art beautifully forged as an elegant rapier. But alas, he had passed it on to his successor, some distant cousin or other, when he had left the ship to "pay old debts." Whatever that meant.

Responding to the giant's question, he said, "Not really sure why I'm here. Thought I'd gotten a free vacation."

[Saulk]

Letting his gaze fall on the Battle Sister, it sounds almost as if the volume of a set of speakers has been turned down, the words seeming to be directed only towards himself. "Sister of Battle, engaged in prayer to the Emperor. Appears to be engaged in the social convention of ignoring discourse participants. Armament: Bolt Pistol. Takes priority in combat efficiency maintenance. Ave Deus Mechanicus."

Finally, he turned to the last of the current speakers. "Combat effectiveness, undetermined. Maintain vigilance on current subject. Referencing of primitive mental stores does not yield past experience of 'vacation'." He looked one last time at the Sister of Battle and there almost appeared to be a deep breath in. What followed was a sound not unlike a chittering machine, as he began to speak the binary litany and prayers to the Omnissiah as the ship continued its descent into the rains.

[RedSand]

The shuttle lands suddenly and without ceremony. The bay doors open, and the driver points you to a large granite building that even the most sheltered among you recognize as a church. Most of the clergy seem well at work, divulging in their early evening prayers, but a lone cleric loitering around the door perks up at the sight of you and hurries you to a small door near the back, that leads to an unassuming flight of stairs.

Descending two flights stairs, you reach a small grey room, completely bereft of adornment save some chairs, an unimpressive table with a large pot of recaf and a half-eaten tray of biscuits, and a small, impatient looking man in a fine coat. At a glance, the man looks to be a nobleman, with well-cut hair and a fine red coat. Upon further inspection, though, you can't help but notice a certain...greasiness to him, especially in his hair. A light jaundice colors his skin, and as he notices you and furrows his brow, you detect an uncanny scrunchiness to his skin.

In any case, the little man doesn't simply perform his aforementioned brow-furrowing and move onto business. Instead, he glances back at his stack of papers, rifles through them quickly, glancing over multiple forms while making histrionic mmmms and hmmphs, before reorganizing them and throwing them back down on the table. He whips his head to the side, his long hair whiplashing back, before pulling out a golden pocketwatch, eyeing it intently, and shaking his head with a little tut-tut-tut. He then finally turns back to you, and in a voice that could be described as nothing but most disappointed, he say's "You are all late".

None of you are quite certain whether he means to be serious.

Spoiler: Stuff

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Ironically, this is a few hours late, and perhaps more ironically, you can kinda blame a religious holiday. ANYWAY:
Everyone can feel free to roll awareness(+20) or scrutiny(-10) against our new friend. Scrutiny checks can be made in general(to simply try and size a person up) or against specific lines of dialog, quoted in the spoiler tag. Awareness checks, at least against people, will give you details about their physical makeup, or perhaps their gear. You may make the checks before choosing to write your interactions with him, or after.
Everyone may add 50 xp to your sheets for properly introducing yourselves.

[RedSand]

Spoiler: Awareness(Gaius)

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Gaius carefully examines the little man. From what he can tell, the man suffered from some form of mutation, but to what effect was beyond his knowledge. What was within his knowledge was the man's clothes: they imitated a noble's outfit well enough to fool party guests, but any warrior or craftsman with a keen eye would recognize the thread as tougher and a little heavier, not quite flak, but something akin. In addition, he noted an obvious heft in the man's sleeve, most likely a knife or small arms to be drawn in haste.

[Saulk]

"Interruption required. Hierarchy within local group is not established. I request immediate clarification of roles, priority of leader." There is a slight whirring as Gaius focuses on the little man. "Advise taking no further action until hierarchy is clarified. Situational Analysis is pending leader request." At this, Gaius stops moving altogether, no longer even taking steps closer to the little man, essentially stopping and freezing in mid-step.

[RedSand]

The man chuckles at Gaius. "Not bad, cog boy. Good to see your superiors haven't forgotten how to make mechanical eyes, along with everything else they've lost."

With a gleeful flourish, the man flicked his wrist and spun a stub automatic out of his sleeve, wheeling it through his fingers and balancing it on his pinky before dramatically slamming it on the table. "That said, none of you are in any position to be demanding my place among the rank and file. If you want to know why I'm here...well now, do any of you even know why you're here?

[Cogsrow]

Spoiler: undefined

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rolling awareness then posting based on it,
(d100)[11]

"Lasciel had her bolt pistol drawn and pointed at the man in a moment" I do not suffer mutants in in my presence let alone armed ones. If this is a trap for the faithful know I will not hesitate and burn all corruption I see.

[Saulk]

"Action has been taken. Interpreting first motion as sign of command. Battle Sister, situation report forthcoming. Mutation is present in this subject. Exact nature indeterminate. Fiber and make of clothing do not match true Imperial Noble Format. Stitching is performed with a variance of at least 5 microns in width from Imperial design. Analysis: Attempting to masquerade as nobility. Thickness suggests armour. Concealed weapon noted, but point determined moot now."

[RedSand]

" Analysis: Attempting to masquerade as nobility. "

The man's face scrunches for a second at that, but he regains his composure quickly, and, as dramatically as ever, he throws his hands up and leans back in his chair, in attempt to nonverbally calm things a bit.

"Now, now, everyone can settle down. I'm not threatening anyone, and while I may not be wearing your average sash and vest, if I were going to kill you, I'd be wearing something a lot better and packing far more than a stub".

From what Lasciel can tell, he isn't carrying any more than a stub, though even his attempts at parleying carry a sardonic bite that makes them hard to believe.

"In any case, I'm going to take that as a no, none of you know what you're doing here, not even the Sororitas; surprisingly shrewd, now that I think of it. Here's the rub, then; from the second the lot of you picked up that ticket, you stopped being a Guardsman or an Adept or whatever. From now on, you're an Acolyte of the Ordo Hereticus-a servant of a proper Inquisitor".

You can tell he's enjoying himself.

Not me, if that's what you're thinking. I'm what you'd call a...business associate of your new boss. Person of interest. Couldn't make this little meeting, and by serendipity I happened to be within range, so I'm here as a personal favor. You're welcome, by the way".

[KasmKat]

Stepping in front of Sister Lasciel and placing his hand upon her bolt pistol, slowly pressing it down, his other hand reflexively clamping down on the case at his side, Constantine looks into her eyes and calmly says, “Settle sister, I’m sure he means us no harm, all creatures have a purpose before the god emperor.”

Turning to face the finely dressed man, the smile slipping slightly and his eagle taking flight from its perch on his shoulder, “Now then, I don’t believe I caught your name Mr..? Well never mind I’m sure you’ll inform us later. As to why we are here I’m not sure whether or not we should be trusting you with that information. As my companion just stated you are obviously attempting to disguise yourself as a member of the nobility, on top of that you are a mutant. While I am not as trigger happy as my friend here, I am also not entirely trusting either. Perhaps it would be best for you to inform us of who you are and what you are doing here before I take a step to the side, Wouldn’t you think?”

Turning back to face sister Lasciel and removing his hand from her gun, once again in a calm voice he states, “Now then sister, how about we let the man speak before killing him then, I’ve always found getting answers from dead men much harder than live ones.”

[Cogsrow]

-Lasciel doesn't let him lower the bolt pistol, she glares at him- "And dead men commit no sins. Touch my weapon again and the only remourse I will feel would be wasting ammo on one as lowly as yourself -she holsters her weapon- Now you speak of an inquisitor mutant, from such a twisted tongue I expect only lies, why should we believe you?

[KasmKat]

Smiling back at her, Constantine shrugs, “You would do well sister, Not to threaten me, I have faced down worse than you before, and I am still Here.”

Stepping aside from the sister he turns to face the finely dressed man again, his eagle once more landing on his shoulder, “Please ignore our discussion there, Subordinates can be troublesome at times, as I’m sure you know. Now not that I would accuse you of lying, never even think of it, But you wouldn’t have some kind of proof of your identity and statement would you?”

[RedSand]

The man glared back at Lasciel with a practically zen amount of amusement. "If I was lying, dear sister, how would I know about the tickets you received prior to getting here? How would I know about this little room here? Why did the clerics allow me in here, and why did the other clergymen let you in? You do know what a cleric looks like, dear girl? They did teach you some things, correct?"

"Or-he gestures to inside of your coat-Why does the symbol on that ticket I shouldn't know about look so very much like that inquisitorial seal the people all blanche at?"

He turns to Constantine. "As for my name, it's still none of your business, but if you must know..."

He holds up a hand to signify not to fire at him, and pulls a small card from his breast pocket, sliding across the table towards Constantine. The majority of it is High Gothic, unreadable to a Hiver, but Constantine can still make out the name printed in large, gaudy gold: Uhrai Sinderfell.

"Now, if you want proof, have a look at these". He slides the stack of papers forward, within the entirety of the group's reach.

[Cogsrow]

-She looks at him with cold eyes- The most Dangerous enemy is that which appears as a friend, the roots of heresy lie everywhere. Clergymen have fallen to darker things before. Their presence is not a sign of innocence. nor is a seal that can be reproduced. - LAsciel reaches to take the papers, reading them-

[KasmKat]

Constantine steps forward, pulling a chair up to the table and sitting down, Pocketing the card at the same time, Beginning to leaf through the papers in front of him. “Well Mr Sinderfell you do indeed appear to know what you are talking about, Allow me to introduce myself, Master Constantine Litlelus, and this is my eagle, we are at your service until such time as informed otherwise.” Extending his hand and obviously expecting the man to shake it.

[Saulk]

((Please excuse my lack of colour - using an iphone))

"Threat level has been greatly reduced. Proceeding to normal directives."

Gaius continued his motion forward, as if he never stopped, looking over the other two's shoulders at the papers. A sound that might have been disgust emanated from his grille. "Paper..."

He reached forward, pulling one to himself to read.

[RedSand]

Uhrai takes Constantine's hand without any lip, and gives a small bow to the hawk. He stays silent, letting Lasciel read.

The top papers had DARIUS written across it large black print, followed by what appeared to be a fair amount of information regarding his skills, abilities, and major achievements. The first bits were written in high gothic, but skimming through, she found the same information neatly stapled to the back in Low Gothic.

Looking down, she could see four other dossiers, including one with her own name and similar information on her. At the very bottom was a space marked "Acolyte signature", next to a larger black box, which had "place seal here" scribbled neatly onto the side after printing.

Following her lead, Gaius pulled a packet marked with his own name on the cover, and found the same.

[KasmKat]

Finding the Folder labelled with his name Constantine pulls it out of the pile, interested to see what it says of him, and equally determined not to let anyone else see it. “I assume you’ve looked through these Mr Sinderfell?” After finishing reading his file he carefully opens the case at his side, slipping the file in and closing it before anyone can see what else it contains. "Hmm... ...Well anyway, I presume you have our next instructions?"

[Cogsrow]

-Lasciel was reading hers- So busy tohide your secret heresies? -she asks Constantine with no particular inflection. as she rasies an eyebrow at what she read, huh they knew even that too-

[KasmKat]

“I feel no need to hide anything from those worthy of the knowledge or my superiors Sister Lasciel, However you might note that you are neither of those things.” States Constantine, Leaning back in his chair and staring directly at the sister.

[Cogsrow]

As A member of the Ecclesiarchy I am more than welcome to any information I require to root out heresy, personal or not -she says mater a factly as she sets the papers back down on the desk-