[DH] A Wretched Hive (IC)

[-Sentinel-]

"I'm not the best at deception or investigation," admitted Nathias. "Miss Callaghan, would you mind meeting up with me later so that we can go question a priest? I'll be getting us cover identities in the meantime. Probably best if we don't pretend to be Ecclesiarchy, though. Perhaps tax officials, concerned about a priest abusing his tax-exempt status to run businesses not related to the church?"

[LeSwordfish]

Carys seemed a little taken aback. "You mean you can arrange us... whatever we need? I... suppose yes, administratum officials?"

[Bennosuke]

"Alright," Lyra says with a satisfied grin, "it sounds to me like we've got a plan. We can start by making our way up and just asking around. I guess we should try not to make too much of a scene." She pauses for a moment then asks the two going with her, "Do either of you need to grab anything before we head up, or are we good to go?"

[Thragka]

The five impressed companions left the apartment. The heavy front door performed its usual whirring as it shut behind them, with extra clunking as they locked it from the outside. Whoever was pulling their strings, the mysterious Mr Vane had the budget to turn this unassuming hab into a safehouse. That could be a comforting or a worrying thing, depending on how you looked at it.

The group made their way roughly north, passing from the modest brick-built residential blocks to smaller homes above rockrete lock-ups on busier streets. The crowds grew as they approached the district commanded by the Cathedral and the economy it generated. Entering a broad, well-lit avenue – phosphorescent tubing running overhead on each roadside footpath, a clear sign of the relative wealth of this neighbourhood – they divided for their different tasks.

Carys

It took an hour and a half to get to the Inquirer offices in the middle depths of Borsen Spire. While Carys wasn’t familiar with, or totally comfortable in, the Cauldron, as soon as she approached the channel between the cathedral district and the gargantuan Goldenhand complex, the familiar standardised signage gave her back her bearings and her confidence. A cramped tramcar on the Goldenhand ring road took her skirting around the outermost layer of warehouses and logistics operators. Carys watched the hive go by outside the grubby window, mostly to ignore the grizzled, weatherbeaten fellow in a tattered tunic who was forced to stand so close to her that he was practically leaning on her. Looking inwards on their curving route, the same prefabricated blocks stretched on interminably down every street, from hive-floor to -ceiling. Industrial servitors loaded and unloaded long trucks, overseen by site forepersons, mechanics, and smatterings of adepts.

From the tramcar, she swapped to a more comfortable trolleyvator for the more vertical portion of the journey from the hiveskirt down into its central column. She looked far less out of place in the clean and well-maintained cab. She held a column for balance, sharing it with three other passengers, spaced around it equally – the model of public transport etiquette.

The temperature shifted cooler as the cab dropped. When she stepped out at the mid-depth station, the air on the public highway smelled fresh. This level was lit by a beampipe; a signature technology of Hive Tarsus, this archaeotech network somehow siphoned the very sunlight from broad solar farms on stable sections of the hiveskin. It was directed down into the wealthiest and most important levels of the deep hive, and emitted from overhead cables in brilliant bursts from long sequences of focal points attached to the ceilings. The illuminated locations slowly varied throughout the day, from east to west along each level, following the path of the Scintillan sun overhead – though far safer than being exposed to that direct searing heat. Compared to the artificial, blue-tinged fluorescent lights of the upper levels it was like – well, night and day.

Her cognomen let her into the Inquirer offices without complaint. Many of her colleagues stopped to briefly gawk at her as she crossed the newsroom. From his glass-panelled office, the Editor looked up and gave her a brief fraction of a nod, before returning his attention to his desk.

Spoiler: OOC

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It’ll be an Easy (+30) Inquiry test to look through back issues &c. for the old article on Rigg and possible drafts that didn’t go to press. The same single test can also cover asking around about the quashed story on the Ibn Rasheed cousin, but that will need RPing out a conversation – the only reason I haven’t started it myself is because, again, I want to give you the chance to potentially fix some details of Carys’s colleagues in the newsroom or what have you before I fully takeover the NPCs that might be there.

---

Nathias

Even without the navigation cogitator in his taxi, Nathias could plot an efficient route home. He was back to his hab in under an hour, having neatly avoided the busiest thoroughfares as he headed roughly east. His neighbourhood was on the northern stretch of the boundary between the Arnest Cauldron and the Eckerhand Ovens, just a little south of both the cathedral district and Stanstud spaceport; a perfect market for cabbies. The phosphorescent lighting quickly became less frequent, replaced with smaller electric lamps. Their uneven coverage left plenty of shadows lingering even in what was nominally the brightest part of the day. Ascending several levels towards the hiveskin, even those were replaced in some places with gaslamps and lanterns. The structure of the uppermost layers of this area was far from perfect, and even though the hottest months were still ahead, it was growing unseasonably, swelteringly hot this afternoon.

In the desk in his workspace were all the materials he needed to fake up some identification papers – at least, non-photograph IDs. Now, he just needed inspiration …

Spoiler: OOC

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The mechanics of forging some ID papers will be according to the Crafting rules on p.245 of the Inquisitor’s Handbook, assuming you have it. To make papers for the whole group, I think the best time interval is hours, and the base difficulty would be Ordinary (+10) – though the exact details of what you want to create may modify that, particularly the level of authority you’re faking.

I’m inclined to handle this by secret rolls, so that there may be (f)unexpected consequences if Nathias doesn’t realise he’s made a terrible fake – would you be alright with that? I can tell you how far you’re getting after a few hours so you can judge how long the whole process will take, and I’ll apply as many Fate re-rolls as you’re willing to allocate.

---

Lyra, Nuala & Titia

As Carys and Nathias peeled off in different directions, the remaining trio pressed on into the Cathedral district. The street-level lockups went from personal workshops and makeshift offices to local craftsmen selling tasteful souvenirs and tacky gewgaws, and convenience stores full of on-the-go food, hats, cloaks, ponchos, prayer beads, carved icons of saints, and utterly false tickets to the Cathedral and permits to jump the line. Titia knew the area best, and skillfully guided Nuala and Lyra through the swelling crowds, years of experience helping her predict the currents and fronts in the flows of pilgrims and locals alike.

Coming into a broad plaza at the junction of two thoroughfares and a cloister compound, the others separated from their guide and began trying to pick up rumours on the Redemptionists. Nuala hovered on the outskirts of small groups of pilgrims, trying to inject herself subtly into their conversations – without much luck. At best she was waved away, but a number of times she was told in no uncertain terms that the pilgrims had no truck with “those nutters” and that she’d better make herself scarce before she landed them all in trouble. A band of shaven-headed men in dark robes were slowly patrolling the plaza: impromptu Frateris Militia. Nuala didn’t want to run the risk of finding out exactly what they thought of the Red Redemption, and allowed herself to be shooed away from the people she’d annoyed.

Lyra put her training to good use, with much better results. Perhaps it was the hard and unflinching look to her, in contrast with Nuala’s flimsier figure. After an hour or so of wandering the plaza, eavesdropping on different cliques, she subtly struck up a conversation with a local behind a kebab cart.

“For all the off-worlders we get coming here for the Cardinal’s blessing,” her new acquaintance said, “you’d think more of them would walk the walk instead of just talk the talk. Emperor knows we’ve as many heretics lurking up in the hiveskin as anywhere else. Blasphemers, aye, and worse,” she said with a knowing nod. Lyra helped the conversation develop further in that direction. “If you wanted to meet some like-minded souls in the community,” the vendor revealed, “there’s a canteen that serves free evening meals to pilgrims three levels up. You might find some friends there.”

Spoiler: OOC

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Of course, if anyone wants to do anything else around the apartment, as Lyra suggests, before you leave, you’re welcome to timesplit that.

[Haval]

Earlier

"Do either of you need to grab anything before we head up, or are we good to go?"

'From here? If our mysterious boss has left us anything useful.' Nuala will have a look around the safe house before they leave.

Spoiler: ooc

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Going to investigate all the rooms in the safe house for anything interesting.

Lyra, Nuala & Titia

Nuala preferred to avoid talking to people like the robed pilgrims if she could help it. She wasn't the most pious person and assumed that people like that could tell and would judge her for it. Eventually she'll go looking for the others to see if either had had more luck.

[-Sentinel-]

Carys seemed a little taken aback. "You mean you can arrange us... whatever we need? I... suppose yes, administratum officials?"

"I know... the right people," said Nathias evasively. "Might take a little while to arrange, though. And our identities can't have a high security clearance, because the higher the clearance, the higher the scrutiny."

---

It was almost a relief for Nathias to plunge himself into the tedious work of ID-forging. This was something he knew; something he was good at; something that was rarely a cause for surprises. He grabbed his autoquill and began drafting Administratum identities for himself and Carys Callaghan.


OOC

Spoiler

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The mechanics of forging some ID papers will be according to the Crafting rules on p.245 of the Inquisitor’s Handbook, assuming you have it. To make papers for the whole group, I think the best time interval is hours, and the base difficulty would be Ordinary (+10) – though the exact details of what you want to create may modify that, particularly the level of authority you’re faking.

I’m inclined to handle this by secret rolls, so that there may be (f)unexpected consequences if Nathias doesn’t realise he’s made a terrible fake – would you be alright with that? I can tell you how far you’re getting after a few hours so you can judge how long the whole process will take, and I’ll apply as many Fate re-rolls as you’re willing to allocate.

I'll craft ID papers for only two people at first. Since we're not talking about photo ID, the one meant for Carys could be reused later by another PC if needed, assuming we're not trying to deceive the same people as before. The papers don't grant a huge amount of authority; they just state that the person carrying them is an Administratum bureaucrat. They're meant to be flashed quickly in front of someone's eyes while making a fast-talking Deceive or Inquiry check, not to undergo a huge amount of scrutiny.

Secret rolls do make a lot of sense here. Nathias has an autoquill for an extra +10 to Trade (Copyist), meaning he will roll vs. 64. He is willing to use one Fate re-roll. Is a test required for each identity being forged? If so, give priority to the papers for Carys, since she will be doing most of the talking and drawing the most attention to herself.

Nathias' alias will be Reza Shumar. Carys' alias will be Livia Aventine.

[Thragka]

The Safehouse

The layout of the apartment suggested that at some point it had been a family home. It took up the entire second floor, save the building's main stairwell, and a utility stairway tucked into one corner. The big cogitator bank via which Vane had instructed them was the main focus of the wood-panelled study, along with a broad desk with room for six people to comfortably sit and work at. The cabinets were sparse, except for a little stationery: a small packet of paper sheets, quills and ink, and a broad plastic box almost full of loose paper clips. A scrap of paper was tucked under the lid. Somebody had handwritten the number 8,867.

The hallway featured a couple of small framed icons of saints on the wall, painted on thin canvas. They hung between brass sconces surmounted by lamps of yellow-ish stained glass. On a thin drawer table, a small pewter figurine with angel’s wings held aloft a gun and a sword.

There was a living room with comfortable, if somewhat old-fashioned, armchairs and settees. A phonograph stood on a hexagonal side table; the mounted record was labelled Songs of the Illumination Choir, Vol. LXXXII. Bookshelves were set into every wall, filled with small, leatherbound volumes, their pages browned and yellowed with age. Almost uniformly, they were reader’s digests of literary classics.

The kitchen had a fridge, an oven and hob unit, and a sizable recaf maker, with a cupboard full of sachets ready to be rehydrated. A few hardy vegetables also lingered behind cupboard doors. A cardboard box contained a small crockery set – just about enough to prepare a meal for five people – as well as two pots and one pan. There were six bedrooms. Two of them had double beds, while the other four had singles. All were made up, the linens smelling fresh. The chests of drawers and closets in the bedrooms were all empty. The glass in all the windows was thick, like the front door.

In the larger of the two bathrooms, Nuala found a first-aid kit. Lyra found a number of other useful items in the small utility room.

Spoiler: OOC

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The first aid kit contains a medikit, six doses of stimm, two doses of De-Tox, and (2d5)[3] single-use syringes for the drugs. You also find:

• Two portable and rechargeable lamp packs.
• A clip/drop harness and a grapnel.
• Nine filtration plugs – no sign of the presumed tenth.
• A set of five microbeads on the same channel.
• A box of Ecclesiarchy rosaries.
• A compass with minute, unreadable characters etched onto the bottom. It points in a direction which is not north.

[Bennosuke]

“For all the off-worlders we get coming here for the Cardinal’s blessing,” her new acquaintance said, “you’d think more of them would walk the walk instead of just talk the talk. Emperor knows we’ve as many heretics lurking up in the hiveskin as anywhere else. Blasphemers, aye, and worse,” she said with a knowing nod. Lyra helped the conversation develop further in that direction. “If you wanted to meet some like-minded souls in the community,” the vendor revealed, “there’s a canteen that serves free evening meals to pilgrims three levels up. You might find some friends there.”

Lyra grins coldly at the woman and bows her head shortly in gratitude for the information. "Thank you my compatriot," she says leaning in to speak furtively, "would you be so kind as to help a like minded soul by providing her with a name that she might ask for at this canteen?"

Spoiler: OOC@Thrag

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Of course, if anyone wants to do anything else around the apartment, as Lyra suggests, before you leave, you’re welcome to timesplit that.

Would it be possible for Lyra to get a hold of a small hand held mirror? I don't know if you want me to roll for it, or just assume such a small trinket could be easily obtained.

Upon leaving the small shop where Lyra had gathered her vital information, Lyra gathers her compatriots and says to Nuala & Titia, "I think I have a lead. There's a canteen a few levels up where apparently the Redemptionists meet. I'm ready to go if you two are, but we are gonna have to be careful."

[LeSwordfish]

Carys returned Lenkman's nod and let herself into the records room with every appearance of being allowed to be there - which, she reminded herself, she was. It seemed entirely absurd to be automatically thinking in terms of subterfuge and deceit already: this was her workplace, throne's sake. Quelling down the thought - had that young man been offering forged documents? gracious - she began rifling through the filing cabinets, looking for the article on Rigg, and anything that might be cross-referenced to it. Hopefully it wasn't far enough ago to have been moved to the microfiche yet.

OOC

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Inquiry (1d100)[63] vs 46 Fel +30 Difficulty.

With as much information from that as she could gather, she sought out Timon - as best she could remember, he was the one who had been working on the Ibn Rashad story. One of the more junior reporters, his desk was tucked away at the back of the newsroom, far away from the editor's office and the windows, which for the moment meant that there was at least a certain amount of privacy, and she perched herself on the desk next to him and cleared her throat politely to draw his attention away from his lunch.

"Timon, darling, how've you been? I was wondering if I could ask a tiny favor."

[Haval]

Nuala will borrow the medikit and the microbead on the basis that Vane shouldn't leave useful stuff lying around if he didn't want them to use it. She fully intends to bring it back when she's finished. She'll also take a rosary in the hope that it'll make her more convincing as a potential Redemptionist recruit.

Later

Nuala nods in agreement, 'If they're mates with Rigg I don't think they'll like us coming round asking questions.'

[Burden King]

Upon leaving the small shop where Lyra had gathered her vital information, Lyra gathers her compatriots and says to Nuala & Titia, "I think I have a lead. There's a canteen a few levels up where apparently the Redemptionists meet. I'm ready to go if you two are, but we are gonna have to be careful."

Titia nodded “Agreed, not just from them but whoever else owns those territories. I’ll figure out as much as I can about the area, whatever we can use will help.” she said, thinking on the various avenues and districts of the redemptionist territory.

Spoiler: OOC

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Navigation (Surface) (1d100)[59]
Common Lore (Imperium) (1d100)[77]

[Thragka]

Carys


It wasn’t difficult to find the recent templates that the copy desk had sent to be typeset. The fluffy sort of article she was looking for normally went out on Gravendays. It took about twenty minutes to comb through the relevant section of every week’s issue, scanning for a mention of Rigg – but the paper copies only went back six weeks, to the start of the Season of Sands, and the preacher wasn’t in any of them. That didn’t spell complete failure, though. These vox pop profiles and feel-good public interest interviews passed under the eye of Eloise Magrin at the copy desk, and Carys knew the copy editor was always banging on about one day collecting and publishing them as a compendium. But Magrin’s book, working title Profiles of Pilgrims, was never going to get off the ground until the woman stopped thriving on chaos and learned to actually organise for the long term.

With some trepidation, Carys opened a drawer and found the file where she knew Magrin kept the layout clippings of the profiles that she deemed worthy. It was as messy as Carys expected. Clippings of all shapes and sizes had simply been stuffed into transparent plastic sleeves, which themselves had just been dropped sideways into the overall folder. Many of the smaller pieces had spilled out of the wallets to one end of the folder. The pandemonium was made all the worse by the fact that any of the articles which awkwardly spanned multiple columns had necessarily generated multiple clippings, and of course none of them had been stapled together or marked to indicate sequencing.

Taking the folder to her desk, Carys set about the thankless task of trying to do Eloise’s job for her. After another half hour or so she’d found a snippet that mentioned Rigg. It was presumably only a fragment of the original full piece. The one piece of salient information she could take from it was that the preacher maintained humble lodgings at a pilgrim’s inn run by one Brother Hector, to be found “a mile out of Grand Urbis Plaza”. Carys called that a win.

Timon didn’t seem to see her approach until she was sitting at the desk, although perhaps he was trying a little too hard not to see her approach – certainly, as soon as she cleared her throat, he leaned back in his chair almost too coolly and gave her his full attention. “Carys! Glad to see you’re still with us,” he said. There was a speck of mustard under his lip. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

---

Nathias

With a little prompting, Nathias’s autoquill set about the task of outlining some reasonable-looking borders around a small section of card, and then the Administratum logo of the bookstand in the column in the background. Satisfied with the layout, he began filling it in. It was slow work, but straightforward, and gratifying. He took his time for the first hour or so, tracing the whole way around the border in a sensible crosshatch, and filling in the logo in halftone. Taking a ruler, he laid out spaces like a standardised form, and printed the fake name and details of Livia Aventine with a set of small, hand-movable type. Finally he cut the card out, and placed it behind a simple layer of plastic in a small leather wallet.

Looking at the finished result, he was satisfied. Of course, if anyone got a close look at it, they would realise there was no stamp or seal, but often people didn’t tend to notice that sort of detail when you just flashed a wallet in front of them. Setting that one aside, he repeated the process from the start.

Spoiler: OOC

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By the end of three hours work, Nathias has successfully forged the two IDs. By default, unless I specify otherwise, they can be used to add a +20 bonus to an appropriate Deceive or Blather test. However, if an NPC gets their hands on one of the fakes and is allowed to examine it, they’ll get a big boost to Scrutiny to realise it’s a forgery.

---

Nuala, Lyra and Titia

Lyra grins coldly at the woman and bows her head shortly in gratitude for the information. "Thank you my compatriot," she says leaning in to speak furtively, "would you be so kind as to help a like minded soul by providing her with a name that she might ask for at this canteen?"

The kebab vendor gave Lyra a once-over. “Well, compatriot,” she said calmly, “I ain’t in the habit of giving out anyone’s personal details to strangers, even if I did know exactly who you should talk to. You never know who’s asking.” It wasn’t unfriendly, and she didn’t seem to be blowing Lyra off. “I’m sure you understand.” The kebabs on the grill sizzled as she rotated them.

Spoiler: OOC

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Lyra can easily buy a handheld mirror from one of many shops in the area for the low, low price of 2 thrones.

With those rolls, Titia unfortunately doesn't know much about where exactly local Redemptionists might hand out.

[-Sentinel-]

Nathias pocketed the two newly-made pieces of forged ID, glanced at a copy of the Inquirer to remind himself of the newspaper's address, and set out in search of Carys Callaghan to plan a visit to some people who might know useful information.


OOC

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Not sure if the timelines line up.

[Bennosuke]

Spoiler: OOC

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I've gone ahead and subtracted 2 thrones from my character sheet, dropping Lyra to owning 20 thrones, and added the small hand mirror. Thank you.

Lyra is going to go for an unskilled Charm roll at 17, which I'm sure she will fail. (1d100)[47]

Lyra does her best to give the female kebab vendor a warm smile and replies, "Understood sister. Though any help would be in the name of His assistance. And those Kebabs do look good."

Spoiler: EDIT: F/u OOC

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And since Lyra failed, and I assume she gets no further information:

Nuala nods in agreement, 'If they're mates with Rigg I don't think they'll like us coming round asking questions.'

Titia nodded “Agreed, not just from them but whoever else owns those territories. I’ll figure out as much as I can about the area, whatever we can use will help.” she said, thinking on the various avenues and districts of the redemptionist territory.

Lyra nods her head. "Very well," she says flatly, "then we'll just ask around about the Redemptionists, as far as I know, it's really one of their haunts. Titia, we can meet you back here in about an hour or so? Or do you want to come with us?"

[LeSwordfish]

Carys furnished Timon with her number two smile with extra sparkle. "Only briefly I'm afraid, been asked to pick up some paperwork... You handled the Ibn Rashad story, right? Do you still have the notes on that? I know it never went to print but it might be a little related to something else i'm looking at - could I take a copy?"

[Haval]

Lyra nods her head. "Very well," she says flatly, "then we'll just ask around about the Redemptionists, as far as I know, it's really one of their haunts. Titia, we can meet you back here in about an hour or so? Or do you want to come with us?"

'Don't they have those shiny red robes? Shouldn't be that hard to find.'

[Bennosuke]

Lyra grinned at the comment and replied, "Let's hope it's that easy."

(OOC: Ready to move on to the canteen whenever everyone is ready)

[Thragka]

Carys

"The – oh, the Ibn Rasheed stuff? Ah ..." Timon's face fell. "I, uh, sort of destroyed those, after Mikael nixed it. Hussain was pretty clear about eliminating loose ends." The young man looked utterly crestfallen that he couldn't do better. "It was only a few weeks ago, though. What exactly were you looking for? I'm sure I remember most of the details." His face lit up in eager hope.

[Haval]

Since they left the safehouse Nuala has been keeping an eye on their surroundings. That Vane knew who she was at all made her uncomfortable. He had found her through the Magistratum, but if you wanted someone to work for you you would probably check them out first. Had his people been watching her, and if Nuala and the others were expendable hirelings, did Vane have other people still watching them to pass on news of their success or failure?

She'll also look for the sort of people who might be preying on the pilgrims to take their money. Even though she's been to this level of the Hive before Nuala has never had reason to visit the Cathedral district, but she assumed that with this many people packed close together there was always going to be pickpockets and beggars who weren't put off by the dangers posed by the more aggressive pilgrims. If Lyra's lead didn't pan out Nuala believed she might have an easier time of it with people like that.

Spoiler: ooc

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Awareness to be paranoid
vs. Per 35 (Awareness +10)
(1d100)[33]

Search to look for pickpockets or beggars
vs. Per 35 / 2
(1d100)[73]

[Burden King]

Titia racked her brain trying to find memories or images in her head that would lead to the redemption it’s, but eventually she had to admit defeat with a sigh. “Yeah nevermind, I think I might be drawing a blank, or I’ve just never ran into them before. Some guide I am.” She said, shaking her head as she looked to her companions. “So I’ll go with you, staying here for an hour wouldn’t be very helpful in the slightest.” She said, feeling a bit useless for the moment.

(Ready for move forward myself)

[LeSwordfish]

Damn. Carys wasn't entirely surprised, but had still been hoping Timon was as lasseiz-faire with document security as some. "Run me through the basics, darling, and maybe it'll jog my memory."

OOC

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Some specific follow-up questions:

• Was there any hint of any related deaths or any kind of pattern?
• Who was with him when he died? Any witnesses?
• Do you have the name/contact details for the Magistratum officer handling the case?

[Thragka]

Carys

Timon nodded earnestly. He began rooting around in his desk drawers as he spoke. “Maybe there’s something I missed … anyway. The departed was one Nazif Ibn Rasheed, from the branch of the family on Alactra. Pretty close to the main line, I believe – obviously they’re based here, with Jamal Bey’s household, but the dynasty has a lot of holdings in the Malfian subsector. And Nazif had grown up very close to Afet Beyzadi, the Bey’s daughter, you know. She was our in. Obviously we’d covered her before, in the Society pages – oh, I mean that would have been you, wouldn’t it? Of course. Yeah, really a quite popular young woman, classy, philanthropist, photographs well, favourite daughter of one of the sector’s premiere mining magnates. Occasional hints of wilder parties but nothing that’s turned public interest against her yet.

“Um, so Nazif had got here late Orisons, I think. Showed up at a few social functions with Afet. Had his own retainers, I think they already had a press packet prepped, you know, a profile for him. He was on a bit of a tour of the sector, nominally checking in with a lot of different Ibn Rasheed honchos, to see what aspect of the business he’d move into. But of course it was more for leisure, bit of a Grand Tour, and it seems the main focus was to spend some time here with Afet. There were hints from their PR people that she might go with him when he moved on, actually. It was a bit – well, they were second cousins, ish, I had it written down, worked out. Second once removed on one side, third on the other …

“No, can’t find it. But it seemed possible we were gonna hear about an engagement sooner or later. You’d have to talk to, um, Gert, in Business, but word is Jamal Bey wants to consolidate some holdings. So it looked like I might get a story out of it, either for Business or Society. Just tried to keep my ear to the floor about both of them, Nazif and Afet. And I heard he’d been seen a few times in the Cathedral district, trying to keep a low profile. It seemed on the straight and narrow, I thought he might actually have been trying to do the pilgrim thing, you know, slum it, actually queue for a bit before getting to visit. Apparently he really was quite faithful. And he didn’t want that side of him getting a lot of attention – I know, right, very specific type of humility – so I never actually got a confirmation, or a photo or anything. But I had some people keeping an eye out.

“Then a source calls, tells me Nazif’s been seen in the District, on an upper level, but there’s something a bit weird about it, he’s got odd company. Says she’ll follow him but I should get there. I head over, can’t find either of them. Hours later the Ibn Rasheed household sends the death notice to us. So I tried to ask the Magistratum, and get a hold of my source, you know, a skulker I’d just been using occasionally to follow people around. Try to fit together the details I had, see if I could still make a story out of this, even if it’s not at all what I thought it would be. I mean my first thought was a drug deal gone wrong, or something, but why would he be out here buying stuff himself? He’s got enough people for that. But I can’t get a rat’s whisker out of the usual leaky seals in the Magistratum. I mean, half of them are sponsored by the noble houses anyway, aren’t they … in any case, barely a week later, obviously the Ibn Rasheeds get word I’m digging around – and then one morning bloody Jamal Bey himself is in Lenksman’s office. I tell you, when I saw him there, I nearly shat myself.”

Timon suddenly looked very self-conscious. Perhaps in front of Carys Callaghan, one ought to aspire to a more delicate turn of phrase. “Obviously that was the end of it, whole thing shut down. It was a tragic, accidental death and it would be uncouth and disrespectful to the family to pry. Frankly I was a bit spooked, it was a relief to just wash my hands of it. But you want to know what the weirdest thing is?” The young man rapped his pen against his desk. “My skulker’s gone too. That call she gave me, telling me she was gonna follow Nazif, as far as I can tell that’s the last time anyone’s seen or heard from her. Whatever accident befell the late gentleman, it was awfully contagious.”

Spoiler: OOC

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I hope that’s a satisfactory response to Carys’s questions, to the extent Timon’s able to answer them. Of course, he’ll give Carys the contact details &c. of the missing skulker.

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Nuala, Titia and Lyra

The kebab seller had given Lyra vague directions, but the canteen didn’t turn out to be too difficult to find once the three of them had climbed to the right level. The main trouble was actually getting through the crowds at their starting point. The afternoon was coming into its height and the hive corridor was getting even busier than it had been when they first arrived. It was slow going, navigating between the stolid clusters of pilgrims that flowed viscously down the avenue. Even though Nuala kept a practised eye out for any petty thievery, they were simply passing between so many people – and seeing any individual so briefly – that she could barely keep sight of anyone for long enough to see anything interesting happen to them.

Having hiked their way to a broad junction, they followed a marginally less busy road to a ramp shaft. The vertical cylinder was perhaps twenty metres in diameter, and dropped down into the depths of the hive; its bottom was invisible behind the mists that lingered by the exits to the deeper, colder, richer, levels. Around the circumference, two interlocked spirals wound around and around, completing a revolution every two levels. Each ramp had one vehicle lane in each direction, and a pedestrian path that could fit six or eight people abreast. Although the pace here was still slow, it was at least less chaotic. People kept to the order that they had when they entered the ramp; nobody wanted to risk pushing into someone else, when a chain reaction could so easily lead to an unfortunate soul tumbling over the edge.

Three levels up, the pilgrims were fewer, though still the dominant demographic out in public. These ones looked wearier, rougher; more beaten down, physically and mentally, by the harsh reality of a long pilgrimage across the sector. There was a hungry look to the dozen or so that were sitting around, idly, outside the canteen hall. They were gathered in a collection that was not quite yet a queue. Lyra passed them and stuck her head through the door to the canteen. Inside were five long rows of plastic tables and stools running the length of the space, at the other end of which was the serving counter. There was no food yet – the vats and troughs were empty, and a couple of boys were ferrying piles of bowls and plates from a back room.

A large man stepped through the swinging doors behind the counter, watching his sweating brow. “Too early!” he called across the room to Lyra. “We’re still cooking. We open in an hour.”

[Haval]

Nuala will go to what seemed to be the back of the queue. She'll smile and politely ask one of the pilgrims how the food was.

[Bennosuke]

As the three begin to make their way upspire, Lyra begins practicing with her mirror. The higher up they went, the more blinding rays of sunlight cut through the sky above. Whenever she got the chance, she would use the mirror to redirect the light, aiming it at various targets; the face of a looming gargoyle, a boarded up window and the like. She would need to practice her accuracy if she was going to get good at weaponizing the very light around them.

Spoiler: OOC@Thrag

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Not sure what your thoughts are on this, but I figured it would be a fun little idea, since my understanding of the Hive Skin is that it's a hellish sunscape with sunlight so powerful it can cook you pretty quickly. I don't intend on using the mirror like this to do damage, so much as just use it to blind opponents, maybe use it to signal to the others at times while they are up hive. Let me know if you think this is okay, and what sort of a roll you would want for such actions. If you are opposed to the idea, we can just ignore the part above, though Lyra will keep the mirror ect.

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A large man stepped through the swinging doors behind the counter, watching his sweating brow. “Too early!” he called across the room to Lyra. “We’re still cooking. We open in an hour.”

Lyra doesn't budge from her spot, grinning confidently at the man, and keeping her arms crossed across her body. "My apologies she says flatly." Rather than allowing the man to intimidate her, she steps forward, and places a hand on his large bicep, saying in a low voice, "My friends and I are not actually here for the food. You see, we were told we might be able to find some like minded individuals, and that these individuals may want to recruit us to help with the mission." She raises an eyebrow at the man, and does her best to get a good look inside while she's close.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Going to put in for a Scrutiny/Awareness roll to see if there's anything about the canteen that screams Red Redemptionist Cult, trained with Perception 35 (1d100)[59]

[Haval]

Seeing that Lyra wasn't turning away Nuala will move back to join her. She hadn't expected the woman to be so direct. She'll stand behind Lyra to see how the man reacts.

Spoiler: ooc

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Awareness vs. Per 35 (Awareness +10)
(1d100)[93]

[Thragka]

Lyra, Nuala, Titia

The gaunt woman Nuala approached outside the canteen turned and levelled an intense stare at her. Her cheeks were sunken; dark circles haunted her eyes.

"It's free," she said flatly. "I'm not complaining."

Lyra doesn't budge from her spot, grinning confidently at the man, and keeping her arms crossed across her body. "My apologies she says flatly." Rather than allowing the man to intimidate her, she steps forward, and places a hand on his large bicep, saying in a low voice, "My friends and I are not actually here for the food. You see, we were told we might be able to find some like minded individuals, and that these individuals may want to recruit us to help with the mission." She raises an eyebrow at the man, and does her best to get a good look inside while she's close.

One of the boys carrying crockery out stopped and looked curiously at Lyra. The man – presumably, the cook – waved him away, and the child scampered back into the kitchen.

"You were, were you?" he asked, folding his meaty arms. He looked Lyra up and down, then glanced at Nuala and Titia. "Who told you that?"

[LeSwordfish]

Carys took careful notes through Timon's explanation, double-underlining both the name of his source and that of Afet as possible leads: she knew Afet to talk to and suspected she could probably get some information out of her.

"And where were you meeting your contact?"

[Haval]

Outside, Nuala smiles and thanks the gaunt woman. She fully intends to take advantage of any free food if it's on offer.

Inside she'll respond to the large man. 'You know the Bell over by Stanstud spaceport?' She'll name a real bar that Nuala had had occasion to drink in before. 'There was a Friar in there holding forth about sinners and mutants in Tarsus.' With any luck the existence of a wandering Friar would be hard to verify. 'Anyway, we got to talking and he said he said he'd heard that there were good people in Tarsus who take the sort of actions that need taking. The sort of thing that the whole Ecclesiarchy should be doing anyway. He said he'd heard this was the place to start looking if we wanted in'

Spoiler: ooc

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Just noticed the names of all the spaceports

Deceive vs. Fel 33
(1d100)[86]
Fate if failed
(1d100)[93]

[Thragka]

Carys

“Sola was a regular at a public house in the Cathedral district,” Timon said. “The Blind Bishop, off Goldengate. She knew the owners. That’s where I’d meet up with her.”

Lyra, Nuala, Titia

The cook’s face was impassive during Nuala’s explanation. “The Bell,” he repeated. “Yeah, think I’ve heard of it.” He unfurled his arms. “Well, we get a lot of passionate folk here. Some of my regulars might be who you’re looking for. But, as I said, you’re too early.” He jerked a thumb back to the kitchens. “We’ve to finish setting up before we start letting anyone in. If you hang around til later, though, maybe I can point you to the right people.”

Spoiler: OOC

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Let me know if you do want to hang around – we can skip forward an hour if there’s not much you want to do in between.

[Burden King]

Titia made sure to keep a mental map drawn up as she followed her compatriots along through the winding tunnels and towering spires, always keeping an eye out for anyone trying to steal from them or if anyone in particular had been following after them.

Spoiler: OOC

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awareness check time see if anyone was following us or stole from us. Perception 35
(1d100)[74]

Titia heard about the free food, and got visibly excited when there was a mention of free food, and stood in line at the ready while she listened to her companions try to lie, and immediatly tensed a little as she listened to them. “By the throne,” she said, preparing for any confrontation, placing her hand on her hand cannon beneath her parka so as to hide the motion.” Yeah, we felt the fervor of the man, and I had heard of the passion a similar priest would bring to the masses of Shrivdays.“

Spoiler: OOC 2

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Gonna try to help the desceive check of Nuala. Might not work, but worth a shot. Fellowship is 47, trained in deceive

(1d100)[59]