The Enemy Within and Without(IC)

[Kaynebot]

Aboard the Eye of Vengeance, you begin your fated mission. The Eye of Vengeance is a large void-faring vessel that has recently been commandeered by your inquisitor. Inquisitor Leon, all each of you know about him is a vague idea of his grand background and the way in which he builds his Acolyte teams. In fact, Leon prides himself in the acolytes he builds. And each of you are in your final test to be officially apart of one of his many acolyte cells. Till now each of you have had only a few missions under the guidance of Leon and each of those were one or two-man jobs tailored to your specialty. Now he is throwing you together on a mission that is only as straightforward as it seems. Leon's famed tests are difficult each in their own regard, but when thrown through his fire and flame, Leon can feel a certain pride at those who make it own with their soul, body, and wit.

The void ship you are on, is an average imperial ship with a tendency towards ferry high end clients here and there. Which would lead some to question its name but that is guarded secret known only to the ship's master, oddly enough. Alas because of its clients it does have an unusually high number of "teeth" to protect itself and back up its namesake. Possibly one of the reasons it was chosen by your highly esteemed Inquisitor. At the moment the Eye of Vengeance has reached it destination of Fenksworld. The purpose of this destination is unbeknownst to you as of now, but that could be the reason Leon has called you down to his personal office. Each of you individually were given a dataslate a few days ago telling you, you were to report to a section of the ship you've most likely never been before. It had the Inquisitorial seal so there should be no need to question it and tells of an impending mission briefing, Leon is planning on giving to you. Another new aspect, till now you've had no dealings with Leon aboard your couple weeks on the ship. So obviously now is the best time to present yourself for your final forge-mission. Because after this, you will either be dead, useless, or one of Leon's true acolytes.


Ok that was the set-up for you to tell me how your character has been doing on the trip and such. It doesn't matter to me if you guys would like to say you've known each other on the voyage or not. Just remember your on a decent sized void ship, so unless you intended to contact a person or not it just as likely that you've never seen them before.

[Rising Chaos]

Rekker sat in his room, finishing up his weapons maintenance. He'd found himself looking over his pistols more and more as his days on the ship dragged on, he wasn't a fan of mingling with the ships crew and he was still getting over the idea of space travel. He'd been on a few ships since his service with the Inquisition started, but he still didn't quite like the idea of traveling on a metal giant that could plunge into witch-daemon hell and kill everyone on board at any moment. At least on the streets of Metallica you knew death was coming from a bullet, not a soul-reaving daemon nightmare.

He shook his head and stood up, holstering his weapons. It didn't do good to think about drek like that now, he was here, he was serving, better to focus on that and the mission ahead. He wasn't too keen on being grouped up with a load of other frakwipes. He'd done fine on his own and he didn't feel like he needed others getting in his way now, the only bright side was that he'd get a couple meat shields now...
Exiting his room Rekker pulled out his dataslate and noted the location before heading off. Thank the Emperor ship interiors were so similar to Hive levels, otherwise he'd truly hate this rust bucket. He continued on his path until he reached the Inquisitors personnal office, knocking on the door and waiting as respectfully as he could.

[Insuling]

Abraham spent the long day-cycles quietly roaming the corridors of the Eye of Vengence. He stayed out of the crew's way and was cordial with those he came across, but the important thing was that he kept moving. The tight spaces and the constant hum of the ship's plasma drive brought shadows to the corner of his vision. They flickered there for moments at a time before he would chase them away with a firm set of his jaw and a confident gait. His nights were spent in his quarters, soaking his bed in sweat. Chilling the room's climate only made him shiver upon waking, so he dealt with it.

The data slate was a welcome change to the routine. The shadows that danced in his peripheral vision had only gotten worse once the ship had left system and slithered into the warp. He heard familiar music in his sleep, songs played on instruments unnatural, abysmal, and perverted as they were disgusting. He learned early that he detested warp travel, and this placed him into a sullen mood as he gathered his gear into a simple hempen bag and set off toward his destination. rifles were stowed away, but at his hip was a thick-barreled firearm. He knew this ship's crew were not his enemy, but he saw no reason to not arrive in uniform.

[Col.Straken]

Silon had mostly enjoyed the journey, voidfarers were often quick to part with their Thrones or other items especially on a long trip. He had tried to gamble with different groups each time, which wasn't too hard as the ratings often swapped shifts or worked odd hours. Unfortunately he hadn't been as lucky, or as successful as usual and was down to his last few Thrones, though he had picked up a hip flask of rotgut and a pack of Lho sticks. Silon had made a few friends among the higher echelons of the the crew, trying to keep on the good side of the Security detail, and managing to grab a few specialized rounds off them for use in his loved Nomad.

When he finally found the Dataslate after waking up from a heavy round of drinking, Silon straightened his clothes and tried his best to make himself look presentable though he still looked like a low life ganger. I need to invest in some fancy clothes again. he thought to himself slightly regretting selling or gambling away most of his old possessions. Fastening on his belt with his Stub Automatic and Chain Knife on either side, plus three throwing knifes at the small of his back he stretched his muscles. As he left his room his gave a longing look at his Nomad Rifle but knew it would be almost useless in such a place as a ships corridor he left it lent against the bed. Pulling on his long coat so that it showed its brown leather exterior he made his way towards to designated location, the coat flapping slightly showing the Cameoline lining on the inside.

[Sir Dancealot]

Ze- No. The Faceless One kept to herself during the voyage, when she did come forth from her chambers, she was a rather unnerving sight, bedecked in beautiful, red, flowing robes that were masterfully attached to the light carapace armor that she had been issued by the Inquisitor. It was hers unto death she had been told, as was the rest of her equipment. Truthfully, items and money meant little to her, only the fact that they would better serve her to kill the enemies of the Imperium mattered. The fact that she had been allowed to live in His service was both a gift and a curse, one that she would have to bear.

She walked towards the meeting slowly, well, slowly for her at any rate. Few could keep up with her natural speed. Truly, she wondered at their lack of grace, at their lack of speed or strength. How could such si- No, such thoughts beget heresy she reminded herself. I am nothing, my form is an anathema to His eyes. I should be dead, but I have been left alive so as to kill His enemies. Nodding to herself, she continued, the Eviserator on her back thumping into her at every step. Soon, she would have foes again, soon she would be in battle and not have to worry about her pesky thoughts.

[OOPWER]

XN4-Theta ran through the exercises again.

Stand. Stretch. Down one. Up. Down two. Up. Down three. Up.

It had taken a few weeks, but he finally felt that he was combat ready again. The surgery had lacked anesthetic, but the surgeons had not lacked for skill. The improvements to his potentia coil vastly increased the amount of energy he was able to channel, at the possible cost of crippling him.

That Omnissiah had not asked for it, though it would have been acceptable.

A dataslate glowed with his next assignment, and he marched to meet it.

[Vexing]

The dataslate's low warning hum had interrupted Faustus' conversation, and it was only right to apologize as he wandered over to peer into its lit screen.

"It's not like I really have a choice. Besides, it's evidence of the Emperor's plan."

Cloth rustled as Faustus lazily adjusted the tie and folds of his Administratum robes evenly (had to look the part), occasionally glancing back up at his 'audience'. It was hard to find decent conversation aboard the ship, large and impersonal as it was, and he felt like it was going to drive him mad. Hopefully, his upcoming mission would involve a fair amount of socializing; all his prior missions had been fairly clandestine affairs, locked up with books and ciphers until he could practically feel symbols in stilted High Gothic dripping out of his ears. It would be interesting to meet the rest of his cell, certainly.

"No, I'm not terribly happy about being in transit. It's not very...what's the word...becoming of someone of my status. Well, former status. Inquisition tends to override other designations."

Gingerly taking his Carnodon in hand, he appraises slowly before starting to load it. Not the traditional sidearm of a scribe, it was treated as a status symbol on Scintilla in the Adeptus Arbites and, paradoxically, gangs in the three hives of the world. More than anything though, Faustus was counting on its superficial resemblance to a bolt pistol to keep over-eager ratings or servants from accidentally bumping into him. Holstering his friend's parting gift once each of the six shots had been loaded, he bowed low to his conversation partner. It cost him nothing to be polite.

His reflection bowed back, perfectly in time--so he assumed. It wasn't as though he could keep eye contact! "By the next time you see me, I'll be an Acolyte in good standing. Perhaps the Prime of our Cell? Who knows? As always, I value your listening ear." Slipping his pack on one arm, he snatched his stave and took his dataslate in his free hand. It was time to meet his calling as one of the Emperor's Left Hands. Wouldn't do to be late!

[Kaynebot]

As all of you made it to the office, simply enough, there was an obvious meeting room and as you filled it in, one decided on knocking. There was a moment of silence before a scraggly head of hair leaned out. Clearing his throat, "Ah yes, you all would be...." the man looked down at a dataslate before looking back up "Oh yes, please come on." The man opens the door wide holding it open for all of you. As you enter the meeting room, it has a long rectangular table, at the far head is your famed Inquisitor Leon. Sitting with his fingers templed and thoughtful look on his face. A stern enough look that would stop anyone from interrupting. As you look around you notice the room is grand in its own way. Grand paintings hanging on the walls, some kind of darkened leather seats.

"Please have a seat." Leon's looking directly at each of you, specifically making eye contact with those brave enough. He makes a hand motion for you to sit. "First order of business. Your mission. As you know we are stationed above Fenksworld, specifically above Nova Castilla. Below in the hive, there have been a string of murders over a decade of terran years. Each kill is the same and from what little evidence has been found, it appears to be a cult. Till now the Arbitrators have been dealing with it. Recently the murders escalated and a name for the cult has been spread. Clergy of the Unfit Deity, the cult has made themselves known and they are beginning to strike fear into the nobles. Before now killings were hidden because it was the scum of the hive who died but over time the rank of the victims has increased. As of last week two nobles died in this ritualistic death. That's your background, now to the mission. Its simple enough. Tear the cult down, and scatter nothing to the wind. I personally want nothing left of this cult. So do your work with precision befitting the Inquisition. Speaking of which, the cult should have no knowledge that the Inquisition is onto, so you'll receive no backing unless you are certain of their destruction. I'll be in orbit till you are finished. That is mission, any questions ask now, otherwise leave gather your belongings and you'll be leaving on the next shuttle down to dirtside."

[Sir Dancealot]

The Faceless examined each of her companions as they proceeded into the room, ticking off various marks in her head. They were all expendable, just as she was, and she would use them in the best way she could. She would have plenty of time to learn their skills and quirks on the shuttle ride down. It should take at least a few hours.

She sat through the... Briefing in silence. Speaking only when she was asked if they had any questions. "Do we have any contacts? Will we be granted a safehouse? Is there an estimated size of the cult? Who were the nobles and what was their power base? Can they be connected to any of the other deaths? Did they seriously name themselves that? Because that is ridiculous." She asked, concisely and precisely, the small vox unit in her rebreather making her voice metallic and raspy.

[Kaynebot]

Leon chuckles at the last question. Afterword he silent for a few moments composing his answers. "No. You will have not have any contacts at your disposal. You will have to find your own safehouse. The cult has displayed tendencies of intelligence, so you will be in the dark to keep them in the dark as well. The cult has seemingly been contained to Nova Castilla, so its seems limited to one hive city at the very least. That's the best estimate that can be given about the cult. The nobles were those lucky enough to make it into the spires. As far as my intelligence is concerned their wealth is old but they no connections outside of the world. Their money seems to be tied in with the processing plants in Volg. Their family names were Victris and Severus. Look into them if you wish. The noble's death displayed the same ritualistic manner as the rest of the death. No respect was payed for their place or were they degraded any worse." Leon ignored the last question from his acolyte, kindly showing that its answer had no bearing on the investigation so was therefore wasteful.

[Rising Chaos]

Rekker looked over his 'companions' as he entered the meeting room. Two he couldn't get quite a read on, the hooded grunt who was asking questions and the cogboy were odd to him, he didn't quite understand what value they brought but he figured they must at least be as useful as him to be here now. He scowled as he looked at the next two, and arbitrator and a savant? The arb he could understand for muscle and pushiness but the savant seemed completely unnecessary to him, did the drekker even know how to aim a gun?

The last person in the group was the only interesting person to Rekker. A man dressed about the same as him and armed with a pistol and chain-knife? At least Rekker knew this guy had similar principles to his own (how wrong he actually was...)
He listened to the Inquisitors report, meeting the man's gaze with his own when it crossed. He respected Inquisitor Leon immensely, if the man's acolytes could whup Rekker's arse without breaking a sweat the man must be a monster of his own accord. Nevertheless he couldn't help but smirk as he outlined the history of the mission.
"Course no one bats an eye when the scum bite the dust, rest of the nobles must be sharting in their pants if they're calling for the Inquisition now" he thought for a moment as he heard Leon's response to the Faceless "What did these ritual killings look like? Anything we should watch out for if we stumble across any more murders?"

[Kaynebot]

"The killings are all tied together by the combination of chaotic runes and glyphs written in blood around the body and the body's apparent absence of skin. All of them have been skinned and their skin has never been recovered. That is all the information that has been collected. You may indeed find more though."

[Col.Straken]

Silon listened to the Inquisitor and the other people in the room, he didn't see much point in the questions, all they needed to know was that people were being killed and the nobles had taken notice. Running a hand through his long hair he smiled and nodded at Inquisitor Leon "All we really need to know is, who is in charge of this hive? They are clearly the ones that are scared, the underhive have lived with death and cults all their life. The big wigs are the ones who think it won't happen to them."

He begins to pace, "Usually, its someone in the Nobles that is running the show, especially if they are well equipped. If we can get past the half truths and politiking manoeuvres, then we will be half way to solving this mystery."

[Sir Dancealot]

She tilted her head slightly, staring at Silon with her dead eyepieces, examining his body language, "Are you a noble then? Or at least a former noble? You'd be surprised at the lack of cults."

[OOPWER]

"In my experience, the heretek is one who never rose in station." A slight clench on his fist was indicative of how Theta felt about that, but he continued on, "Regardless, we cannot merely make accusations in the dark. I shall see if this hive has watchers of the mechanical sort, and contact the local Mechanicus. Perhaps we can uncover potential suspect persons or locations."

[Col.Straken]

Silon shuddered as the person with the red robes and giant chainsword examined him, Great, a redemptionist nut job he thought to himself but passed over her question. "Well, if we have done all the chatting we need, I suggest we go grab our stuff. We will have plenty of time in the shuttle to make small talk." he says with a smile and turns for the door.

[Rising Chaos]

Rekker nodded, a bit surprised at what Leon had said. If the killings all bore Chaos markings he was surprised the nobles had waited this long before calling the Inquisition for assistance. "I agree. When we get boots down we should also consider looking for some sort of safe house of facility we can law low in. If we're taking out an entire cult this may take a drekking long time"

[Sir Dancealot]

She shrugged, smiling underneath her mask, "I'm already ready. After you." She truned to the inquisitor, standing and then giving a deep bow. "Do you grant us permission to leave if there are no more questions my Lord?"

[Kaynebot]

"Yes, yes, if all of you have no more questions then you may leave. You have thirty minutes to pack and head to the shuttle. Shuttle number thirteen far end of the main bay. Oh and don't forget this." Leon pulls out a old looking scroll sealed with a very elaborate Inquisitorial seal with Leon's own personal addition. "If you need back up, give this to Arbite Headquarters in Nova Castilla." Leon eyes narrowed and his face became serious, "As far as I"m concerned though you can do this without help." It wasn't a threat but more of a caution because this is the unspoken test your cell is going through. He hands the roll to his adept he walks around the table, holding his hand out for the first person to take it, as if this small gesture was yet again another test.



You can guys can talk out a plan of action now, or just write a post getting on the shuttle and I'll skip ahead to landing on planet.

[Sir Dancealot]

Once again, she bowed to the Inquisitor, "Of course my Lord. These cultists shall repent in Fire and Chain." She turned after that, setting the Eviserator back in the specialized holster on her back, walking smoothly and easily,almost unnaturally so, even with the heavy equipment she wore. "I will see the rest of you on the ship. Perhaps we may discuss a strategy on the way down." With a nod towards the rest of her cell, she walked off towards the shuttle. She knew her place. It was not as a leader, but as a weapon. The rest of them could squabble over parchment.

[Col.Straken]

Silon shook his head at the person with the giant sword, Some people are very strange he thinks to himself. Looking at the Inquisitor as the parchment is offered he considers taking it himself, but doesn't want to appear too eager. "Well it would make sense for a Judge to carry that around, they'd have a bit of sway with the Arbites dirtside." he looks around the group. "If not, I guess I don't mind being chief paper carrier." he says with a grin. Waiting for a response or someone to step forward to take the letter he stands with an eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

[Rising Chaos]

Rekker raised his hands in mock protest when Silas went for the scroll. "Drek, all yours chief. I wouldn't trust myself to hold onto something valuable like that". He got up from his chair and patted himself down before grinning to the lot of them. "Well whaddaya know? I'm all packed up. See you folks in the shuttle. Inquisitor". After his last word he looked at Inquisitor Leon and gave a strange, fist to chest salute, typical of a Metallican ganger. Not realizing that the others might not know what he was doing he turned and strode out of the room.

[OOPWER]

Sparing a glance for Silon, Theta said, "I believe you to be the best representative to your own. I shall meet you at the shuttle. Ave Imperator, Inquisitor.

And with that he walked out, the heavy footfalls of his steps resounding on the deckplates beneath him.

[Insuling]

Abraham lingered in the office for a moment while he contemplated all that was said. He'd been quiet in the back of the room with his shoulder leaning against a firm wall that vibrated just the slightest bit. When presented with the documents, he pushed himself from his spot and finally broke his own unintended silence. "I can hold onto the document. As it is, getting the assistance of the local Arbites may not even require requisition if we can toe around the subject. Weird murders like this often mean surprise help arrives, so it shouldn't be too suspicious if I walk in and start asking questions. I'll see what I can do there."

[Col.Straken]

Silon smiled as the man steps forward to take the papers, "Well that's settled then. You can carry the paper, good luck with that." he laughs as though what he said was funny.

Making his way back to his quarters, Silon picks up his Nomad rifle, slinging it over his shoulder and heads towards the shuttle a hand resting on the rifles worn leather strap.

[Insuling]

He watched Silon walk out with a serious expression on his face. That serious expression was the same expression he had worn into the meeting, and it was the same he carried out, but there was a little tell in the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled a bit that told that he was a little amused as well. He left the room and the Interrogator within to go to the shuttle bay.

[Rising Chaos]

I'm assuming the shuttle is an Arvus Lighter. Lemme know if it's different and I'll edit accordingly


By the time the others arrived on the shuttle Rekker had been there for a good five minutes already. He had used this time to extract his prized .54 Trantor and was in the mist of disassembling and cleaning the gun's trigger grip and handle. He was looking forward to this assignment. The chance to take down a cult gang was very reminiscent of his days on Gunmetal City. The fact that the majority of the killings had taken place in the underhive reminded him of the fierce street battles he had lived through in his youth. He hoped he'd have the chance to do something like that again.

He still didn't quite know what yo make of his fellows yet. The fellow 'ganger' was a good soul in his books, the masked chain-freak scared the drek out of him and he still didn't quite understand the presence of the arbite and adept. They'd be blooded in this city though, together they'd either prove themselves worthy alongside Rekker, or they'd be left in the dust of the hive, swallowed up and forgotten.

[Kaynebot]

Yea, I was actually being generic but after looking that up, yea that's the ideal vessel.


As all of you get your equipment that is needed and load it onto the shuttle, taking your seats in the rear compartment, neither luxurious or too spacious. The six of you are all there is and only after a few minutes of waiting the pilot's voice came over the inside vox. "We will be departing now, everyone please use your harness" An automated ten second countdown starts. Presuming everyone is buckled in and equipment held down, the departure starts smoothly. Releasing from Eye of Vengeance, the vessels engines flaring as it launches towards the planet. As its gravitational wells start to pull on the vessel the rough bucking ride starts.

After a rugged ride through re-entry in the atmosphere, the vessel engines flare as it slows enough to land. A loud 'thunk' echoes as the shuttle lands on the docking bay. A the noise of other shuttle engines also echoing, telling you this is a larger port and is not private. The pilots voice comes back "Hope you had good ole ride. Now if you could please disembark I must be getting back to my ship." The main door makes a loud hiss as it opens. The lovely stale air of the hive pours in, greeting you at your destination. Along with the stale comes a servitor, its automated voice droning on and on about protocols for checking your equipment and paperwork that must be filled out for newcomers to the planet.


Sorry if I cut off any planning time but you'll have plenty of time now between finding a safe house and actually starting an investigation into Clergy of the Unfit Deity

[Sir Dancealot]

The Faceless One steps off of the loading platform, frowning at the city around her. It had been a while since she had been in one. "I believe it would be a good time to introduce as we search for a place to lay low yes?"

[Col.Straken]

Silon rolls his shoulders as he disembarks and stretches his neck back before positioning his rifle comfortably on his back. Being in the same position for long periods still bothered him for some reason, even despite his occupation. Looking around at the filthy docking area he shuddered, how he missed the clean and airy Nobles docking stations now.

"Well, I think it might be an idea to see if we can get a safe house in the upper hive... Throne, if we can make out we are newly arrived Nobles come for a visit, we might even draw the cult to us. Saves us half a job."

After a moment he seems to realise that the Redemptionist was speaking to the group. "Eh, My name is Silon... And I am an alcoholic..." he says quite deadpan, waiting for a second his face begins to crack and he gives off a burst of laughter at his own joke. "Ah I'm kidding, though I am called Silon, I'm not an alcoholic. I'm a scout, recon artist, and charmer of the ladies." once finished he unscrews a hip flask that he has just produced from his coat and takes a swig of the strong smelling rotgut booze contained within.

[Rising Chaos]

Rekker chuckled at Silon's jest, "Well, if you lot are gonna try and pass off as nobles the best I can do is act like hired muscle I suppose". He shrugged, then flashed a grin at the group, "Rekker Jericus is my name. Gunslinger and all around killing machine at your service"

[OOPWER]

Theta addressed the gathered Acolytes, "I am External Enforcer Theta. Theta for short. Considered a decent shot."

He continued, "I should be able to contact the local Magos for information, and perhaps procure a place to stay in safety."

[Sir Dancealot]

She nodded at her companions as they spoke, "I am of the Order of the Faceless, so I have no name. For the sake of the mission however, you may call me... Katarina." She chuckled softly, as if at some joke, "I am an assassin trained to hunt down and destroy heretics so that I might redeem myself for my sins. As for the upper hive, if you desire to pay for it, then I have no objections. And for such a lady charmer, I see that you have failed to charm anyone here."

[Col.Straken]

Silon snorts a little as the "Assassin" talks and simply replies with "I don't see any women to charm" before shrugging and giving her a little grin and turning away "So, where we be heading? Up top to the luxury and clean air? Or down south into the scum filled underhive of destitution?"

[Sir Dancealot]

"It's been what? Five minutes? Shouldn't they be flocking to you now? She smiled behind her mask, the joke coming off easy, without thought, her tone light, Why don't we start in the middle? Where everyone else does? As for speaking to the Magos, I feel that our employer would prefer us to keep out business as quiet as possible."

[Col.Straken]

Silon smiled a genuine smile, he liked this faceless one, perhaps she was as much of a stiff as he first thought. "Give it time, I prefer to work through quality rather than quantity... Means I can charge more" he says with a wink, leaving his meaning open but knowing personally it was a hint to his old connections.

Lighting up a Lho stick he spoke around the smoking stick clasped between his lips "I suggest we chat as we walk, don't fancy stopping around here for the night."

[Insuling]

"I like your thinking, Silon. I'm not sure how deep your all's pockets are, but if you can get a roof over our heads, Theata, then I'd appreciate it." As if as an afterthought he continued, "I am Abraham Kotcer, a Regulater in our Empire's holy Adeptus Arbites. I am kind of a people-person." He cast a stony glare across his fellows and hefted the bundle slung over his shoulder before picking a direction in which to walk. He says in a softer tone as the movement begins. "And I apologize if I seem to come off hard. I am sure you are all very talented in your areas of focused and I look forward to working with you." This was all spoken in a bit of an icy monotone, his focus distracted by the press of the city.

[Sir Dancealot]

"Well, I suppose it would be understandable that you would do so." Her tone still light, obviously pacing herself to keep up with the rest of the group, "I mean, if you didn't, you'd just get laughed at instead of paid out of pity. I almost feel sorry for the ladies, seven seconds of fun, and then an hour of your crying. Hell, I know I'd pay you to get you to stop, and I'm supposed to give all my money to the church!" She frowned under the mask after that. "Wherever we go, I need to get something less conspicuous to wear. I have Sally all boxed up, but I still stick out like a sore thumb." She glanced at the Arbitrator, "Yes... People person. I can see that."

[Kaynebot]

As you begin leaving the landing station, there are throngs of people moving here and there, all with a purpose and at good pace. The further you get into the hive, the more people there are. Just outside the landing bay, massive buildings appear, pleasure dens, shops, and who knows what else. They all resemble each other in the dirty stain of badly filtered hive air, and the occasional half-lit neon sign. The natural sunlight blotted out by the buildings giving a hard read on what time of day it is. It is fairly obvious that you are in the mid-hive. Where those who work there have enough thrones to spend it on some luxuries but nothing as the nobles do. At this point you could try and travel to the upper side of the hive, gaining entrance through money rather than noble backing, you could travel downward to the underhive, filled with the lowest of the low, but at the very least has cheap motels and even cheaper company if need be, or you could stay in the middle, not the cheapest safe houses available but a lot cheaper than what's in the noble districts.

Either way, you find yourselves currently striding forth through the pressing body of the public, the noise level almost uncomfortably loud with so many people, street vendors, and the giant machinations at work in the city. Every once in a while an old hovercraft creeping the crowd as it slowly parts aside. Even at such a high noise level, the most acute of you can almost hear the crowd as a whole whispering of something dark, giving a slight ominous feeling to your surroundings.

[Sir Dancealot]

"So, we're going all middle class? Or do we want to keep watches during the night for thieves?" the Faceless One asked.

[Col.Straken]

Silon shrugged, "I suppose we have to, I probably have enough Thrones for a few nights in a cheap mid hive hotel."

[Sir Dancealot]

She twitched her head slightly, listening to the murmur of the crowd, "Shhh. I hear whisperings of dark tidings. I'm not sure what this tiding is however. It may be relevant."


[roll0] - vs 42 (32 + 10 for Heightened Senses (Hearing)) I suppose and awareness test to see if I can't make out anything more than: "It is dark, and grim!"

[OOPWER]

Turning to the Faceless One, Theta answered, "Your suggestion of a night watch is sensible. Your fear of appearing ostentatious is comparable to my own. I believe we can reduce that by going to the Mechnicus together."


Two weird people won't draw attention, especially when one of those people is a member of the Mechanicus. Some normal people plus the two weirdies is more likely to draw unwanted attention.

[Sir Dancealot]

"Well, that might be a good idea. But, as I said before, we may have to tell the mechanicus what we are up to if we try to bunk there."