Touchdown

[ribblle]

http://i.imgur.com/AoNsl6E.gif

The note within the car is simple. "Back of the Temple of Regnover, 18:00, 0 150 998.M41. —The Emperor Protects"

You have 1 hour.

[Sahaar]

Caxton looks at the note, front and back, then around the street; in the alleys, down the roads, and back the way he came. Nobody suspicious, no more than usual at least. Whatever it was, it could be something worth investigating. Pocketing the note, he ***** the stub automatic and holsters it and checks the double barreled shotgun in the trunk of the car. He wished he had enough money for a combat model, but this classic would have to do. Hopefully nothing heavily armored would pop out at him.

Taking a deep breath, Caxton floored the gas and drove away.

[ribblle]

https://zippy.gfycat.com/MessyZealousHuia.gif

You're making progress. Would you believe it, air traffic is even worse.

[Wyndeward]

Augustus hurried to the meeting, checking every few minutes to see if he was being followed.

[ribblle]

http://i.imgur.com/6ReNQhD.gif

The rest of you can optionally be in Caxton's car. It only makes sense since you met on the spaceship. Augustus took a shuttle cause it was getting a little cramped.

[Sahaar]

"Awfully busy traffic for this time of night," Caxton mutters to noone in particular. He didn't like it. With this many cars on the road, it was hard to tell if he was being watched. Still, he parked a block away from the designated meeting point and walked the rest of the way, doing his best not to look suspicious.

[ribblle]

At the appointed hour, you have made your way through the bustling faceless masses of the Administratum quarter to an unmarked service elevator platform, set in the rear of a vast and imposing building.

http://i.imgur.com/jfKAsMN.jpg

Between the towers can be glimpsed the face of a weeping saint. Below, it appears that you are expected; the wizened face of the platform’s inbuilt servitor http://i.imgur.com/F3KDPTW.gif

"Pass!" the servitor hisses.


http://i.imgur.com/RuW9dGc.gif

Your shipmates have joined you, and you make for an uncomfortable (http://i.imgur.com/CpRw5w0.jpg) and diverse looking group, standing in tense silence (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5PvBzDlZGs). There's a chime as the last one of you boards the platform and the elevator descends, the hatchway closing above you all with a clatter. The platform continues downward for some minutes through maintenance levels, deep into the bowels of the government district.

The elevator slowly clunks into place.

http://i.imgur.com/heLvTtX.jpg

You step into the darkness beyond and globes held by cherubs flicker into life, while those behind you extinguish. There is but one path, the corridor is featureless and smells faintly of chemical disinfectant.

After about five minutes, the corridor ends in an armoured metal door, which
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkX8WZggmEg

Within, you see only your shadow - blink - a wide, opaque mirror filling the upper half of the wall opposite. Harsh light glares upon a jumbled stack against one wall while a hospital gurney complete with restraint straps lies toppled against the other.

The mirror begins to clear, revealing a glittering steel chamber beyond and a tall, thinfaced figure http://i.imgur.com/KTdgyJr.jpg

Behind him, covered by a mottled grey sheet, is what looks like a

http://i.imgur.com/1gHTPjr.png?1

on some sort of frame raised upright for inspection. Above them in the air, a pair of white enamelled skulls, encrusted with a variety of brass instruments and long hypo needles, hover expectantly.

[Wyndeward]

At the appointed hour, you have made your way through the bustling faceless masses of the Administratum quarter to an unmarked service elevator platform, set in the rear of a vast and imposing building.

http://i.imgur.com/jfKAsMN.jpg

Between the towers can be glimpsed the face of a weeping saint. Below, it appears that you are expected; the wizened face of the platform’s inbuilt servitor http://i.imgur.com/F3KDPTW.gif

"Pass!" the servitor hisses.


http://i.imgur.com/RuW9dGc.gif

Your shipmates have joined you, and you make for an uncomfortable (http://i.imgur.com/CpRw5w0.jpg) and diverse looking group, standing in tense silence (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5PvBzDlZGs). There's a chime as the last one of you boards the platform and the elevator descends, the hatchway closing above you all with a clatter. The platform continues downward for some minutes through maintenance levels, deep into the bowels of the government district.

The elevator slowly clunks into place.

http://i.imgur.com/heLvTtX.jpg

You step into the darkness beyond and globes held by cherubs flicker into life, while those behind you extinguish. There is but one path, the corridor is featureless and smells faintly of chemical disinfectant.

After about five minutes, the corridor ends in an armoured metal door, which
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkX8WZggmEg

Within, you see only your shadow - blink - a wide, opaque mirror filling the upper half of the wall opposite. Harsh light glares upon a jumbled stack against one wall while a hospital gurney complete with restraint straps lies toppled against the other.

The mirror begins to clear, revealing a glittering steel chamber beyond and a tall, thinfaced figure http://i.imgur.com/KTdgyJr.jpg

Behind him, covered by a mottled grey sheet, is what looks like a

http://i.imgur.com/1gHTPjr.png?1

on some sort of frame raised upright for inspection. Above them in the air, a pair of white enamelled skulls, encrusted with a variety of brass instruments and long hypo needles, hover expectantly.

Augustus bites his tongue, a smart-alec comment dying unspoken on his lips.

[Sahaar]

Caxton narrows his eyes, examining the man and his servo-skulls. "Are you with the Mechanicus?" Caxton asks, taking a few steps forward. "Why did you call us here?"

[ribblle]

"Medicae, actually. It is my professional opinion my testes are not, in fact, steel."

The figure in the chamber http://i.imgur.com/mJ3mYvC.gif and after a static rattle, his voice issues from a small grill set into the ceiling:

“Greetings Acolytes, I am Medicae-Interrogator Sand and you are the new blood, are you not? Worthy additions to our holy war? Well we shall see, http://i.imgur.com/2EgDfpG.gifto doubt my betters’ judgement, eh?

Well to the matter at hand. I represent the Holy Ordos of the Imperial Inquisition that we all serve. Our masters have called you here to assist us in the investigation of a matter of interest that has recently and unexpectedly come to light.

Oh, yes, for your information, you are now in the depths of the Templum Mori, the house of the dead where the Lords Prefecta Mortem hold court and the fallen and the lost of the great city are named and counted. It will not surprise you then to know you are here to view a corpse, I doubt it will be your first, but it is, shall we say, quite singular!”

Sand strolls over to the dissected and eviscerated body of an adult human. As he continues to talk, the servoskulls dip and bob out of sight, reappearing with messy looking organic specimens in tests tubes and jars, clutched in dextrous brass callipers; each is displayed in turn for your edification.

“Now if you will kindly attend and pay heed, I will take questions afterward.

The body has been positively identified as that of one Saul Arbest, male, 23 years of age, hive worker, unskilled labourer certified. Formerly of the Tantalus Indenture, registered habitation: chamber 6/23 stack 717# Coscarla Division, southern zone, Hive Sibelius.

Subject found dead on the midhive transit rail three days ago as the car returned to the main depot. Preliminary examination at the scene suggested death by drug overdose. Post mortem performed by the biologis forensic, however revealed certain anomalies that necessitated our involvement.

The cause of death was in fact total systemic failure brought on by tissue rejection of an implanted synthetic graft organ. Said organ destroyed his central nervous system while attempting to overcome the immune response.

In short this…”

A servo skull displays a sample jar containing a ten centimetre long whitish cord of waving glassy tendrils, still in motion, still https://i.imgur.com/mCv2ASd.gif

“…crushed the life out of him from the inside.

What’s it for? Unknown, but my opinion would be, in a word, ‘control’—neural and synaptic override, perhaps worse.

There were other grafts and surgery of a less singular kind also; one lung replaced by a concealed storage cavity, possibly for his use as a courier. Also, https://i.imgur.com/XmMZAdx.jpg http://i.imgur.com/veeuNbD.jpg I’ve no idea why. His system’s awash with alchemic traces, clotting agents, panimmune and the like.

“The surgery was expert, but by the lesions and tissue stresses, I doubt any care was given to whether or not it was painless. In fact, by the damage to his http://i.imgur.com/gZ4YpLf.jpg my guess was that he probably screamed as long as he was able to.

“But this little monster is what concerns us. Oh, you don’t need to know the genelore or the Omnissian edict, just that this is not only illegal, it is forbidden, it is http://i.imgur.com/EC4gGXU.jpg Merely tampering with this kind of dark tech is enough to warrant a death sentence from the Holy Ordos, the Arbites or the Mechanicus.

“And I’m sure that you, as well as I, are wondering how such a rare and vile thing ended up wrapped round the spine of http://i.imgur.com/ZQk3ajf.gif from the dusty end of the stacks.

“The man has http://i.imgur.com/CmIdNac.gif he was rendered invalid by indenture—laid off if you will, some sixty days ago now and was reported missing thirty-two days ago by his sister, one Lili Arbest, resident of the same habstack. More than enough time to get himself into all sorts of trouble, I’m sure you’ll agree. These grafts are no more than eight or ten days old at most. We have nothing else on him.

“This is to be a shadow investigation, no open official involvement and no notification of the local authorities, and no one knows he’s here either. Coscarla’s down hive, so a covert approach will draw far less attention than a boot through the door, and be far less likely to kill any leads to our heretic.

“Find out why and where if you can, better yet, find out how. Best of all, find out who is responsible. Go with the grace of the
God-Emperor, oh and additional samples would be a blessing if you can procure them.”

[Wyndeward]

Augustus suddenly wretches and rushes to a nearby sink, throwing up his last meal, then dry heaving for several minutes.

"*hng* That is an abomination..."

[Sahaar]

Caxton had seen his fair share of horrible crimes--especially in the underhive--but even this was enough to make him recoil in disgust, though he kept his last meal within him. Gaining his composure and willing his legs to move closer to the assorted exibits of gristle and gore, he examines the specimines before asking:

"Do you have any idea when this implant could have been placed in the subject's brain? Perhaps there's a link between his termination of employment and..." he gestures to the assorted findings. ..."this. Surely this little fella..." he leans closer to the small, technoheretical machine-in-a-jar. "...could not have been from his earlier job?"

[fibericon]

Constantine had been following, quietly, stoically - almost appearing unconcerned. He looks over the body one more time, and finally speaks up.

"I'm sure this man was a test subject of some sort - that much must be obvious. Someone of his status doesn't receive something this costly otherwise. The fact that he had no tracking device implanted in him was pure carelessness. That makes me think we're looking at a small group - maybe even one person - who know how to do one thing only, and that thing is not manage projects. Inefficient and heretical? Now I want to kill them twice."

[ribblle]

"When? I want you to enjoy this moment. It's the last time you'll ever hear me repeat myself. 8 or ten days ago, after he left his job, ickle baby. As for you two, correct! Eat lightly, you'll see much worse. Now, if you would be so good as to inspect those crates beside you, i think you'll find some toys."

The crate cracks open. Within you http://i.imgur.com/70w7pTU.jpg

"There's one for each of you. Don't worry kids, they fit. You'll find a few items in the pockets. Here's the rundown. (https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_b6aoiFH4WlVSvPzdgQVWSNIKUiUUCa7Z0RcfqLUTn0/edit)

Everybody wears these awful overcoats in the lower hive. You'll blend in, and they're tougher then you'd think. (Worth 1 armour point). https://i.imgur.com/nyJE7dK.jpg are pass tokens for the Coscarla division, your subway card and passport in one. And https://i.imgur.com/NkcBwyQ.jpg is your cover. According to these cognomen you work for the Coblast Assay, a not-so-little operation we've been fronting. Their speciality is tech salvage and “manpower services”, which oddly enough entitles you to arms for self defence. Officially you're bonded agents, but the word you'll hear is regulators.

Now, i'm happy to say that thanks to signal interference in the lower hive, vox traffic is almost impossible over any real distance, or up and down at that. The wire station is your only option, but i've arranged something to keep you in touch with each other at least. These https://i.imgur.com/p73habX.jpg use a private encrypted channel, and are good up to a few kilometres.

Sadly, this http://i.imgur.com/hhazZ3p.jpg is the norm down there. These lamps will illuminate about three metres, and if you arrange the shutters just so a six metre focused beam. For the good Cleric, i have something a little more sophisticated in mind. The https://i.imgur.com/tvB6RzH.jpg carries basic copies of the information i've briefed you on, a series of http://i.imgur.com/1DN6SSg.jpg and http://i.imgur.com/N49arAr.png about the Coscarla and - pretty sparse - files on the https://i.imgur.com/XIhvf0e.jpghttp://i.imgur.com/wPQtYhl.jpg?1 It also has basic short range audio and visual recording and playback functions. The code is 74390, anything else and it will be wiped clean.

You're also the best excuse for a doctor in this trio, so please do me a favour and take some samples. https://i.imgur.com/YVFsFaU.jpg will triangulate any anomalous human tissue; anything within a metre or so and the indicator will flash red and start whining, louder as you grow closer. I want my mono scalpel back, so take care. (1d5–1 plus the wielder’s Strength Bonus (SB) in Damage and ignores the first 2 Armour Points (AP) of the target).

Finally. https://i.imgur.com/aJNJTk1.jpg there's a 120 thrones in there.

If there are no more questions, Coscarla is a few hours away by rail and i'm sure you'll be in touch." Sand turns away and the glass slowly begins to tint.

"This mission will chart your future. Sail wisely."

Character descriptions for your fellow party members would be much appreciated.

[Sahaar]

Caxton takes the overcoat and kit. "Hopefully this fits over my mesh coat..."

Examining the rest of the kit and pocketing it, he asks, "do we have any leads? Any idea where to start? Maybe the scene of the crime; where was he initially found?"

[ribblle]

The glass stops tinting. He turns and gives you a long, long look. "Get out."

[Wyndeward]

The glass stops tinting. He turns and gives you a long, long look. "Get out."

August rinses his mouth out and spits into the sink.

"Alright, time to find out who did this... thing."

With that, he turns his back on the autopsy table and walks out of the hall toward the elevator with a little bit of a lurch.

[Sahaar]

Caxton shrugs. "I guess so." He follows August.

[fibericon]

Constantine dons his new coat, pockets his new toys, and heads out with the others. He pulls up the map on the dataslate, holding it so the others can see. He points to the transit rail.

"Might as well start at the obvious place. Objections?"

[Wyndeward]

Constantine dons his new coat, pockets his new toys, and heads out with the others. He pulls up the map on the dataslate, holding it so the others can see. He points to the transit rail.

"Might as well start at the obvious place. Objections?"

"Makes sense." Augustus pondered for a moment. "Talking to the sister might not be a bad idea, either."

[ribblle]

Gonna assume Saaharr's down for it.


The Twilight City

http://i.imgur.com/ea3aeyZ.jpg

You all pile into a rickety rail car, the only relic still bothering with Coscarla, surrounded by sad-faced clerks, grubby back door salesman and others surely looking forward to a trip down hive. Eyes flicker to the rifle protruding from Caxton's backpack, and you sense they'd have shuffled away if there was any room. There soon is.

http://i.imgur.com/J9677q3.jpg

An hour passes; you switch line after line, and passengers bleed away. An unctuous looking official sidles through the crowd, examines your identification and indiscreetly adds your names to a thick binder. Once he notices the rifle he happily underlines them.

http://i.imgur.com/MUw5AQH.png

Half an hour later, and your only company is blissfully asleep. The floor is yours.

[Sahaar]

"Anyone know how much longer until our stop?" Caxton asks. "We've been on here for awhile."

[Wyndeward]

"Anyone know how much longer until our stop?" Caxton asks. "We've been on here for awhile."

"I have no idea," Augustus replies, checking his chronometer. "Hopefully we'll be there soon."

[fibericon]

"Real shame we only have a meter radius on this tracker. Walking up and down the train with it is a stupid game, and I don't want to win stupid prizes."

[Sahaar]

Caxton shrugs. "At least we have something. Gotta work out those legs, I guess. Can't have people in our line of work having weak legs."

[ribblle]

Sorry, thought you wanted to investigate the railway carriage not the railway station

Over the next 2 hours (https://soundcloud.com/soundbyterfreesounds/www-soundbyter-com-subway) you change yet more rails and into increasingly dilapidated and vandalised cars - your pass tokens and cognomen are oily with the sweat of all the palms that have held them up to the fading light.

http://i.imgur.com/BdV6dBB.jpg

You pass from the relatively open spaces and clean air of the government district, down and across whole hive levels, past collapsed finery and the fallen architectural splendours of the “good of olden days” and through vast steel sky vaults filled with endless rows of habstacks and kilometre after kilometre of thunderous http://i.imgur.com/aGuzzXX.jpg
The further you go

http://i.imgur.com/gOqUUVZ.jpg

the more depressed, ill maintained and decayed things become; these are the lower stretches of the mid hive, the outer circle beyond which no transit rails run and no law holds sway. Long stretches of the journey are spent in the stale tainted air of the wormholelike http://i.imgur.com/FAlbV3w.jpg within the Hive’s thick supporting bones and in the nameless black voids of deserted spaces between, the car’s lights flicker and fail regularly.

Alone in a single car, now deserted but for your group, the rattling carriage breaks into another vast and dilapidated habvault and begins to slow. You look out upon a vista of vacant and decayed buildings in a worse state than any that you have seen up until now, stretching beyond sight into a dark horizon beyond.

The rail car shudders to a stop (https://soundcloud.com/peter_comley/steam-train-whistle-at-road-crossing-distant-natural-echo) and the doors open onto a wide, raised platform devoid of passengers save for a single huddled figure dressed in rags. The figure quickly http://i.imgur.com/PL748Ef.pngthemselves onboard, flashing a pass to the door mechanism with unseemly haste and takes up a seat as far from your group as possible. Angry yells soon http://i.imgur.com/Lpl49VR.jpg and the kid springs into the next carriage. Seconds later a dull, crackling servitor intones:

“Coscarla Southern Railhead. Passengers to Coscarla to disembark. This conveyance will depart in…” The rest is lost in a howl of static.

This is Coscarla and you have arrived.

http://i.imgur.com/1xraWgH.jpg

[Sahaar]

"Man, this place is a wreck," Caxton says, looking around. "People must be desperate around here. For work, for food, hell, even for decent hygiene."

He observes the people walking around. "Well, if we're trying to blend in, I guess we should find out who's in charge and what it is we should be doing."

[Wyndeward]

"Man, this place is a wreck," Caxton says, looking around. "People must be desperate around here. For work, for food, hell, even for decent hygiene."

He observes the people walking around. "Well, if we're trying to blend in, I guess we should find out who's in charge and what it is we should be doing."

"After you, mate," said Augustus, fingering his las pistol beneath his cloak. "I really don't think we're gonna blend in -- we're too clean, if nothing else."

[Sahaar]

Caxton takes point and heads in. "Good, so we'll look new. Makes it easier for us to ask for directions."

[Wyndeward]

Caxton takes point and heads in. "Good, so we'll look new. Makes it easier for us to ask for directions."

Augustus smiles and shrugs and falls into line with Caxton. "Alright, that sounds like a plan to me."