Haunting the Hadex Anamoly IC

[DrK]

At his left moans a Daemon bound in the shape of an axe
Its songs of blood and hatred echo forth and fill the sky with a moaning that stirs the dead
At his right stands the legions of the dark gods straining at their leashes.
Behold a Demon lord comes and all who stand in his way are doomed...

The worlds of Magog lies beneath you. A great swirling mass of dark blood red clouds that leech unholy rain upon the blasted surface home to countless mutants, crazed warrior barbarian clans and roaming daemons. Aboard the long captured and corrupted cruiser The Hammerhead you can see the entire world and beyond that in the void the strange and terrifying red fires of the Hadex Anomaly that so disrupts the immaterium for all.

Turning to the rest of the audienc chamber the noise hits you. A hundred chosen warriors standing around the edge of the hall. Blood red meat strewn from great spits dangles down from the ceiling - some of the chunks the remains of lost warriors or imperial soldiers, some horrifyingly still moan and writhe before thei life is ended as the troops carve off chunks to eat.

At the head of the observation dome's space if a grand black throne of spikes and iron where Korlad the Black sits. His once proud astartes armour now seeping blood and fused to his body. The warlord had called to the dark champions of the Hadex anomaly. A promise of a great challenge that would then lead to great rewards. Such a challenge unable to be unanswered and so you have come to listen to him speak...

It is said that long ago, the Lord of Blood created the Axe of
Kha-Aksha, that only the most worthy of those who would
wield his power might prove themselves upon the field of battle.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of aspiring champions have borne
that weapon to war, but ultimately, none have proved its equal.
The last mortal to have borne the axe fell in battle upon the
world of Messia. It is said he reaped a crimson harvest amongst
the shambling mutants of that world, yet ultimately fell to them,
his form torn to shreds and the axe taken up unthinkingly by one
of those lowly creatures. Now it resides in the wastes, home of the
mutants and the drill-rigs that wrest promethium from the planet
like blood from flesh. Whoever would claim it must first survive
these harsh, toxic lands and the harsher drill-barons. They must
also do it soon, for Messia’s sun is beginning to rise, and with
dawn comes the horrific transformation of the mutants.
How might the Blood God reward one who could wrest
that axe from its unworthy, unknowing bearer, and raise it
high in the name of Khorne?

He looks up at you all. I would raise this axe. I would have someone from this assembly fetch it for me. To that person I promise a great reward. One that will tantalise even those of you that follower the deceiver or the lord of pleasure...

[Cogsrow]

-Sakura grins behind her mask, a reward even a follower the lord of pleasure would want. That definitely intrigued her, She could ask for so many things....though knowing khornates the reward was to be the first victim of the axe.....which meant she could just kill the champion...that would be an option. Swaying back and forth she looks around for a fool or two she could work with in hopes of getting this done easier-

[Elurindel]

This new incarnation did not sit entirely well with the warrior-myth from the Tribe of Loathing. He had far more limbs than he was used to, and it meant that his beloved pet Chomper would not be graced by having him ride with the mighty Boris into battle in this lifetime. Still, it was a small sacrifice to make to be among the stars once again. He banged a brass hoof on the metal floor, creating a ringing echo of ceramite and metal upon the floor, making to be heard amidst the clamour of bodies.
"Boris, shall...ahem" he pauses for a moment to turn up his Laud Hailer. "Boris shall reclaim this axe! Be not ye worried that Boris shall take this axe for his own ends, oh no! For Boris has no need of lesser weapons Trusty is all that is needed!" He holds aloft his battered greataxe, its wooden handle and leather grip worn smooth from countless years of use, the blade notched so many times it could be used as a saw. It mattered not if these others did not recognise its greatness, for soon he would make it abundantly clear that the legacy of Boris was one that could not die with mortal flesh, but would be reborn again and again a thousand, thousand times, until he truly ascended. This was another step on the path to greatness.

[Hemnon]

It was pretty clear to everyone present that this Chaos Space Marine was using all the selfcontrol he had to not just go nuts and slaughter everyone. his breathing was a hollow-deep ragged intake and outbreath that sounded like a Bloodthirster's heavy breathing.
a Mark was on his Chest, center-mass, Looking like it was branding right onto the Ceramite Armour Plating and through it unto his skin, except that the mark was only visible on the outside right now (since he was wearing his power armour). It was glowing a burning fire-red with an outlining of Brass and Burnished Bronze, the Mark was of course the Mark of Khorne, Gifted only to his most Worthy Chosen Champions.

Scarax was already holding a great level of contempt for this warlord. yeah he looked rather scary with that bleeding armour of his, but so did an Imperial Warlord Titan and Scarax have after all slain one of these colossal warmachines by continious chopping at it's ankle-servos.
The main reason for this scornful hate and pity came from the reason that the Warlord didn't just go claim it on his own. If he was worthy of wielding such a grand weapon of Khorne, then he should go there himself to claim the rights to carry it in blood combat, not by sending others to claim it.
But Scarax remained 'calm and collected' and didn't say anything. Cuz if he was to be 'ordered' there, then he'd do it of his own free will and do it in the Name of the Bloodiest gods of them all and just claim this axe for himself and woe be onto any who'd try to take it from him. Be they comrade in hunting it, or the Lazy Warlord himself. They'd all die and Scarax would claim their skulls in the Name of Khorne and drink their blood to anoint himself in the honor of truely claiming this weapon as his own.

All of this was of course not visible on him. He was standing tall (a bit taller than most Space Marines), his armour lightly hissing and steaming with vapor, making his appearance quite the more frightening to everyone else.

[ArcturusV]

The "Lord-Captain", as he stylized himself, was probably one of the least visually imposing men in the room. Clad in mere carapace, rather than gaudy power armor. Lacking the BLUUUUUUD or trophies that other Aspiring Champions put on display. His armor was simple. His features handsome in a polished way, rather than the battle scarred, twisted visages of others. The hat he wore was battered and simplistic. No great work of hidden technology, weaved with circuitry or festooned with baubles and technological doodads. Merely perched jauntily upon his brow, a bit off center.

His eyes were closed, heightening his experiences of what was going on around him. The noise of the man calling them forth, or the answers from the crowd. The crude chopping of axes into bodies, the sweet cries of the suffering ones, the iron smell of blood tinged with the acidic scent of fearful secretions in the air of the hold.

It wasn't his hold, or the delights of the Temple to the Slaaneshi... but it had it's own sort of crude, simple charm. Like going from gourmet meals that delight the senses, to a simple greasy meat sandwich.

A treasure to steal. That was a simple enough thing. An item of some story, he understood these things. Even had a planet to go to. Surprisingly more ground work laid out, simple as it was, than he really expected. Whoever knew a Khornate could even figure out that much?

"Blood for the Blood God?" Jake spoke up in a mocking tone, "What rewards do you have, that is worth this task and my time? I want to know that my time will be well rewarded, once I am back with your little trinket." He smiled a bit to himself, standing in such a way that he was leaning on his left leg, his hands resting comfortably and casually near his weapons. After all, no telling when one of those Khornish Game Hens would squawk out and demand a fight. And he was quite aware that this was a function of these people.

[xaszatm]

Aitonia Efcharistisi held an arching eyebrow towards the towering Marine. That was it? A big ax? How Khorne-ish. Still, the news about the mutants did hold the ex-Biologis attention. Maybe the transformations were too terrible towards those not willing to study them, but the potential would be fascinating for her research. And hey, getting the favor of a Marine had its uses as well. Aitonia spoke up. "I too will volunteer for this quest. The ax shall be within your grasp."

[Seanfall]

Ah Khorneites, always so straightforward. Bacchus admired that a bit as he stood near the front, his senses expanded far beyond the human spectrum's he could see and taste the pain in the room. Feel the colors of rage billowing off those around him. His eyes focused on the Warlord, This one though...might be a bit cannier than the others. How odd that a Warrior so devoted to the Blood God would send others for the Axe. There was more to this then he was letting on, So many of us all competing for the same prize. No doubt killing one another for the Axe. A thought crossed his mind, was this whole thing a massive sacrifice to the Blood God?

Bacchus smiled, no matter it would be a welcomed diversion. Who knows what delights awaited him. "This must be quite the prize, Oh Korlad the Black to lay aside such long held animosity between the different Chaos Lords and their followers." His voice was constantly shifting in tone, changing from a low pitch to that of a child. But as he spoke again his voice was kept at it's usual pitch. "And I for one, cannot resist such temptation. To do so would be blasphemy. So I declare that Bacchus of the Noise Marines shall seek your prize." Bacchus smiled widely. Let us see what pleasures await.

[DrK]

The warlord grins leaning forward with a grinding of gears. His motely court mocking and baying many of the acolytes, only Scarax and Boris getting a modicum of respect with their red blood soaked armour. The hissing voice of the warlord slides out, silencing the shouting hordes and even the still writhing an dying guardsman on the long meat hooks.
"We shall see eh. The drill bosses of the seething surface beneath may not be so forthcoming with you eh. The axe is lost upon the southern continent". A wave to a minion by his throne and a brooding dark hololith appears, the grid showing a sector of rugged hills and what looks like lava flows winding around the mountains.

The metallic face grins, "You speak of reward. Well... I have reward for you. One that you will like. A black ship. A thousand souls of witches for you to feast or enslave...

Looking at the Pirate Prince "I would gift a drop pod but you may prefer your own transport..."

Spoiler: Skills

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Suitable Lore may give some info.
Think of your compact. How are you heading down there?

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai had been silent for the most part as people pledged to claim this Axe, he had had no interest in risking his life to get someone a big Axe from a planet filled with mutants. He had thought that there was no reward that this Astartes could offer him, that was until he let loose about a Black Ship. Visions of his life past flashed before his now blind eyes, the dank holds of such a ship once held him, chains burning into his skin, brands burnt into his bones. He opened his blank eyes and stared at Korlad, his heart pumping as he thought of the lives he would save, the eyes he would open to the truth.

He spoke up from the section he stood in, none of Korlads gang had stayed near him, as the bodies began to rot and spoil almost immediately within his presence, "I don't think you are telling us everything. But to open so many eyes to the Throne of Lies, I simply cannot stand by and refuse to aid." He shook his head answering Korlads obvious next question Who would trust a follower of the Deceiver, "I have no interest in the Axe, as you can see I am not built to fight. I only have eyes for the Psykers you promise to release from the Black Ship."

[DrK]

Mordechai had been silent for the most part as people pledged to claim this Axe, he had had no interest in risking his life to get someone a big Axe from a planet filled with mutants. He had thought that there was no reward that this Astartes could offer him, that was until he let loose about a Black Ship. Visions of his life past flashed before his now blind eyes, the dank holds of such a ship once held him, chains burning into his skin, brands burnt into his bones. He opened his blank eyes and stared at Korlad, his heart pumping as he thought of the lives he would save, the eyes he would open to the truth.

He spoke up from the section he stood in, none of Korlads gang had stayed near him, as the bodies began to rot and spoil almost immediately within his presence, "I don't think you are telling us everything. But to open so many eyes to the Throne of Lies, I simply cannot stand by and refuse to aid." He shook his head answering Korlads obvious next question Who would trust a follower of the Deceiver, "I have no interest in the Axe, as you can see I am not built to fight. I only have eyes for the Psykers you promise to release from the Black Ship."

The Warlord laughs, a rasping cackle. "You misunderstand sorcerer. I care not, if I had my way I would flay every hapless warlock aboard the Black SHip and cast their lifeless bodies into the void. You can do with them what you wish. Release, sacrifice, devour, enslave... I care not."

[ArcturusV]

A tithe hold full of unsanctioned psykers... he had no idea how this creature got a hold of it. This was clearly a powerful vessel they were on. But a tithe ship wasn't known for being a chump of a target. Perhaps he raided a planet's Ecclesiarchal Vaults before a tithe was handed over? That would be easier. Suggesting that this lord is perfectly capable of leading a planetary strike against a well armed, zealous group like the followers of the God-Emperor.

... so why can't he get this axe?

His eyes flicked over towards Mordecai. His lack of eyes, and the nature of his words suggested plainly enough what he was. A psyker of the Imperium who had gone renegade. Supposedly having a vested interest in these psykers. He doubted it was anywhere near as noble as 'saving' them. A fell rite to take their raw power? Some sort of witchcraft?

The gears in his head were slowly turning. It would be quite a boon. He might not need an entire Hold of psykers... maybe just 10... 20... 30 surely, right? Things to experiment on, and test artifacts with, maybe for other purposes.

Still a few hundred for the fallen Psyker to play with? Right? Well... these were Khornish Game Hens... they probably already pecked the eyes out of most of the Psykers, killed others. Short sighted views of their faith and the irrational hatred and destruction and valuable resources just for the sake of destruction.

... maybe 90% of them already killed. How many were in a hold? Thousands? So presume a hundred are left. At best. Is 100 enough? Maybe I'll need to arrange some other 'deal' with this psyker... He could feel his hand wrapping around the handle of my weapon as he pondered it.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai returned Korlads laugh, "No I think you misunderstand. When your Axe is delivered, you Will release the Psykers I choose into my care."

[Elurindel]

Boris stroked his chin, his gauntlet making faint whirring motions. Such people were of little tolerance to Baphtar, the Lord of Blood and Skulls. Their slaughter would be a great boon in his favour, even if he had to divide them among some others. Still, of the hundred here, it would be inevitable that some competition would be had...
"A fine reward for a service well performed!" Boris bellowed through his laud hailer speakers. "Good hunting, then!" and with that, be began to scan the see of potentials. Void travel was yet beyond his capabilities. Surely there would be one with whom he could bargain for passage down to the world. If not, then a drop pod would do.

[Hemnon]

Scarax lumbered forward to get a better look at this Hololithic Image. Anyone dumb enough to be in the way got backhanded out of the way with a swing of his arm. He cared not if anyone died or got hurt. They just shouldn't stand in the way like that.
With a Haughty glare and snarl, Scarax said: "I care not for your worthless trinket-ship and it's putrid holding of psyker-scum! Reclaiming this axe in the Honour of Almighty Khorne is more than enough reward for me. Keep your ship and it's filthy cargo, they are useless to me." His voice was a horrid mix of beastial undertones, raspy vox-grill commmunication and like the voice of a Daemon itself. It was utter evil and seething in contempt and hate.
This Warlord was a joke, not deserving of his title if he had to ask others for help like this. But the TRUE reward was more than enough for Scarax to keep his thoughts on that matter to himself. He'd do this, yes. But not for this lazy Warlord, no. He'd do it in the Name of Khorne and for the simple chance of killing, maiming and slaughtering a bunch of living things.
His Crimson Red Power Armour, brass inlays and Bronze edgings, looked like it was a Pristine set. it was clear that he cared a great deal for it and took good care of it as well. Of course it had it's battlescars and such, but those appeared to be left there as a mark of his previous battles, rather than negligence.

[Cogsrow]

-Sakura watched the frost father and the Berserker, they would be liabilities in anything outside of combat. The captain had uses and had a reasonable head, so did the heretek and the psyker...the noise marine she didn't know, they were often a fickle lot. best ingratiate herself with the captain. She steps closer to him and spoke softly- So for as simple as this task seems he is offering far to great a reward, -she takes a moment to adjust her stance, cocking her hip and leaning in, whispering in his ear- I feel proof of the reward's validity may be necessary.

[xaszatm]

Hearing the conversation between the Captain and the Flesh-Shaper, Aitonia lent bent towards the captains other ear. "Indeed, even forgetting the valuable psykers inside, a Black Ship contains countless archotech for damping psychic resonance. Such a prize would be invaluable to a follower of the sorcerer-hating God. Either that ship has been gutted out or we're being led into a trapped prize."

Closing her eyes for a minute, Aitonia tries to remember what other valuables could be hidden on the hated Black Ships.

Spoiler: Forbidden Lord (Archotech)

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(1d100)[8] INT 59 5 successes.

[Seanfall]

Again the Khornite Berserker did not disappoint. "I would hope that the Majority of these Psykers would be untouched? Otherwise it is just a ship full of corpses." It might be that way already, Bacchus glanced around at those who had spoken out. A few stood out, the Captain chief among them. He might have to barter for passage, a Drop Pod's could be unpredictable. Frankly they lacked style.

He made his way towards the Captain, recalling any useful Deamonological he could. Based on the corruption of the Planet to determine what they might be dealing with when they made Landfall. "Greetings Oh Captain, but from the Warlords words am I to take it you possess a ship of your own? If so I would like to barter passage after this meeting has concluded."

Spoiler

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Forbidden Lore Deamonology
(1d100)[58] vs 36

[ArcturusV]

Well well well... wasn't he getting popular among the strangers who weren't squawking and foaming at the mouth. It brought a faint smile to Lord-Captain Kaltos's face. He had a ship, he had thousands of men to sacrifice as needed, and it felt good.

"They're cultists, simple doesn't surprise me," he confirmed. He never expected Guile from those foolish enough to fall under the Blood God's thrall, they had too much in common with the Orks, who thought "AXE TO THE FAAAAAAAACE!" was the height of creative thought and tactical cunning.

And of course, speaking to those who gathered around him, and not loud enough to really carry to the Khornates in their Axe Talk, he added, "I doubt there is any reward. Oh, it might exist. I wouldn't even be surprised that it was here, now, at this very moment. I'm sure someone," he nodded his head in the direction of the apparently sightless psyker in the crowd, "could even confirm it for us."

"But I doubt he'd have the control to keep them alive until we return. If they're not dead now, they will be by the time we get back." It seemed a simple enough prospect to him, "So forget the reward promised. If you want my help, and you want to get this axe and deal with this man, we need to think calmly and realize just what is in hand."

He looked at each of them in turn, "I can give you passage, I can help you recover it... but I'm not doing it for the reward he promises. I have my own end game in mind. If you are fine with this, I can arrange passage to the planet and back, lend my power and expertise such as it is. The axe won't be ours, but we play our cards right and we'll get a good trade for it."

He smiled darkly and looked at each them in turn, "We got a deal?"

[Seanfall]

Bacchus lowers his voice as well. "The 'reward' was never my concern. I seek only the new experiences this...'venture' will bring." Bacchus grinned, he liked this Captain. It would be a pleasure working with him. "Your terms are agreeable. And if your plan interests me enough. Perhaps we could work together for that goal. I just hope it isn't boring."

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai noticed a group gathering around the "Lord-Captain", and his ears picked up faint whispers of words but he didn't pay much attention to what was actually said. He simply turned to the group, "Do you care to share your thoughts with the rest of us? Or do you have something to hide?" he smiled, considering his fear of dying he always seemed to end up threatening people. "I thought that Tzeentch was the deceiver but clearly, the Dark Prince has more to hide than he lets on."

[ArcturusV]

The Lord-Captain looked over at at the approaching Psyker, slowly turning his head to face him. With a blank, expressionless face he simply said, "Prince who?" in a very confused, disorientated tone.

Spoiler: Mechanics!

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Totally throwing an entirely fluffy Deceive check here.
(1d100)[63] vs 51 Fellowship, Trained in Deceive.

He managed to hold the expression for several long moments of complete befuddlement before he continued on. "I take it you want a proper ride as well, and not to be shot like a torpedo at a planet, hoping the Machine Spirits decide to slow down before you end up as little more than a stain upon a mountainside?"

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai looked at the man, trying to see through him, his failed eyes made it hard to discern the sort of facial features most people would look upon. "Your friends here, quite clearly follow the youngest of the Gods. It practically radiates from them." at the mention of of transport he nods "I definitely would prefer to be taken planet side by ship and not hurtling through the air at terminal velocity."

Spoiler: Counter Mechanics

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Well I shall try to counter your deceiviness

Per 53 - Halved for not trained in Scrutiny (27), -10 for warpsight (17)

(1d100)[86] - VS17

BOOM massive fail!

[ArcturusV]

Jake looked absolutely taken aback by the Psyker's proclamation of the faith of his fellows that had gathered around him, glancing between the girl and the SPESS MEHREEN quickly, eyes wide, before looking back to Mordecai and leaning in close, giving a loud stage whisper of, "... they follow the Guy on the Golden Throne?!" sounding totally shocked.

Spoiler: More Fluffy Mechanics!

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Totally messing with him and his inability to see through such lies apparently, and of course playing up the idea that the EMPRAH is supposedly younger (As a god) than Slaaneshi.
(1d100)[55] vs 51 Fellowship, trained in Deceive.

"Well I'm sure we can arrange something in return for such shocking revelations."

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai spits on the the floor at mention of the Emperor, "That rotting corpse is no God, he is a fraud that survives by sucking the life force from the weak and leaving the strong crippled."

Spoiler: More attempted counter mechanics

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Scrutiny (1d100)[5] vs 23

Mordechai begins to smile, "I see your game, a small bit of pleasure teasing a blind man? Your true colours will always shine through?

[Hemnon]

At the mentioning of the False Emperor, Scarax immediately turned around and headed towards those that thought they knew anything about that withered Corpse. He halted about half a meter away from the Captain Guy and the (yet to be revealed to Scarax) Blind Psyker-guy. His massive, hulking frame and Antique-looking Baroque Power Armour adding an extra sensation of dread to his presence.
"You think you know ANYTHING about the False Emperor??? Oh how ignorant. I was around when Mighty Horus Rebelled against that worthless Corpse-on-a-throne, So be quiet about things you know nothing about... just like the teeming masses of useless lumps of flesh that worship the False Emperor." He growled out in a rumbling augmented voice giving away from his helmet's voxgrill. It was clear that he wasn't lying about being one of the original traitor-marines. His ornate Power Armour was just one symbol of many that indicated that his statement was true.

[Elurindel]

The mighty Frost Father clomped over, his hooves making a staccato report on the metallic floor.
"You fine fellows seem worthy sword-arms, not like the other lobcocks and dandy-prats that prance around for the pleasure of this warlord." Boris bangs the handle of Trusty against his breastplate in salute. "Boris, from the Xurish tribe of Loathing. Champion of their people and seeker of adventure and profit. Though it seems you have already a man of the berserking nature, perhaps you have need of an inspirational warrior figure? My own resources are not inconsiderable either." he reasons.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai looked at the hulking beserker, "I probably know more about the Emperor than you. I have looked upon his rotting corpse, he stole my sight, and my freedom."

He then turns to the new arrival, "Ah, someone with manners. A pleasure to meet you Boris, I am Mordechai. Once an Astropath for the Imperium, now I strive to open the eyes of those whom are blinded by the Emperors corruption."

[Seanfall]

Bacchus gave the newcomers an appraising look. At the centaurs approach he leaned down and looked between the thing's legs nodding appreciatively. "Good to see the god's don't go halfway with their blessings." He chuckles a little at the Khornate Berzerkers words. Bacchus too was one of the Original Traitor marines, though he didn't advertise such things.

"Does it matter? I'm sure there a number of Ancient ones here, myself included."

[xaszatm]

Aitonia bowed deeply to The Lord Captain. "It would be an honor to come along." As far as she could see, it was currently her best option. None of the other people had enough brain cells to operate a syringe, let alone contemplate actual thinking. Besides, if this Slaaneshi captain was like the rest of them, pleasure drugs would be all that was required for payment.

As for the rest, she shrugged her shoulders. Boys will be boys, she thought.

[DrK]

The warlord looks at the assembled acolytes before turning back to two of his followers. At Sakra's words his hands clenched into fists, wine slopping onto the floor as a goblet was crushed beyond recognition. "-Return with the axe or the next time I see you, you will hang from hooks" The snarl near full blown rage as he clearly dismisses the party.

Musing on things you all realise that there is a lot to be gained from this reward. Aitonia thining back to the legends of the Black Ships. Rumours of stealthy warp drives and secret archaeotech as well as the records beyond value detailing all of the worlds of men and their precious quota's of witches. Possibly even the ability to trace the other Black Ships... Imagine, if the Black Ships were to stop reaching (holy) Terra...

Seeing the acolytes standing the Warlord he motions with a massive mailed fist. Get them off my ship. If they all want to collect my reward they can plot together.

Spoiler: DM gentle push

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Please accept my gentle push as the warlord pushes you off his ship onto the nearest available ship....

Leaving the ship a few more details are recalled by various of the acolytes. The surface below riven with roaring lava and other hostile terrain. Great acid storms and razor sand storms are also frequent. The promethium barons move like mechanoid locusts in ramshackle mining vehicles with bikes or skimmers zipping about as outriders. The creatures of the wastes far from the mining packs or the 3 walled and armoured townships are degenerate mutants of the worst sort. Warped by the raw demonic energy and abused by the savage landscape they are locked in a perpetual war with the miners.

Spoiler: stuff

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On the southern continent there is a small township - Mekonta - that has a rudimentary space port and acts as a hub and semi-neutral ground for the barons to meet and trade. Inside the walls are numerous fighting pits, slave markets and a few great hab domes where slave process funghi like material that is the primary food source...

How are you guys travelling down to the surface?