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Who What Now
Sep 10, 2006

by Azathoth
Aperta Ignavus
Port Remonstrance
Morgue Complex


*FLASH*

Aperta looks over the data flooding in from Cogitatio's bio-auspex scan with mechanical detachment. Nothing about what he sees surprises or concerns him greatly. The man will surely bleed out relatively soon if nothing is done, but it will be a routine matter to stablize his condition well enough for him to be moved without fear of exacerbating​ his condition.

"Initiate Ignatius, you can handle the application of first aid, I have another pressing matter to attend to." The priest says in his droning monotone as he hands the master control dataslate to his colleague. "The servo-skull's automated protocols will do the majority of the work for you." Cogitatio chirps happily.

Moving away from the slabs, Aperta begins to gather a few supplies for his project. Being owned by the Adeptus Mechanicus the facility is as much a temple as it is a morgue, and it's not difficult to find several kinds of pungent reagents, scraps of bronze, and synthetic cords.

Pulling small hand tools from his robes the priest begins to work. Spices and holy incenses are ground into fine powder and combined with a biodegradable resin that will release their scent slowly over a period of time. The bronze is bent into hemispheres and cut with a microlaser in an asthetically pleasing manner. But most importantly Aperta is reconfigures small vox transmitters, leftover from making the microbeads the Acolytes all wear, to only broadcast a simple locational ping on a specific frequency, allowing them to boradcast to a much wider area using the same power supply.

Placing the transmitters and odorifics inside the bronze spheres and welding them shut, Aperta holds the pomander necklaces up and examines his work. It has been quite some time since he has crafted something with his own hands rather than his familiar's micro-fabricators, and he allows himself a brief second of pride before he moves on.

The priest takes the pomanders to the waiting area, and to the two workers he had instructed to wait for him. "I apologize, but it seems that I will be unable to see you today. But please, take these," Aperta holds the amulets out towards the man and woman, "as a sign that the Omnissiah does not forget those who work for the good of man. Keep them with you at all times and they will ward off the foul airs that have infected you. But you must wear them at all times until the have ceased to exude their healing aromas, or they will do you no good, do you understand?"

__________________________

Performing a Tech-Use Test to craft tracking devices. Result: 2

So I absolutely crushed it for I think 5 DoS

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Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Sequacious
Morgue Complex, Autopsy Chamber
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ewegy6MC9pY

Unwilling to enter the charnel autopsy chamber, and yet compelled by bleak necessity, the interlopers file in. A couple of them attempt to wipe down an autopsy bench with rags torn from their clothing, unaware of the smoking remains of the autopsy servitors ensconced in the alcove above them, before the more richly-dressed individual is laid down, redness oozing from his shattered body and mingling with the muck on the floor. A few of the more able-bodied patients remaining - Aperta's chosen among them - follow down the corridor, but blanch and pale once they realise what's in the workroom. Still, those with lung disorders accept their pomanders with obsequious forelock-tugging, and then make their exit via the front door with as much speed is respectable.

As Bulworth and Max sidle out the back, to the raised eyebrow of the lieutenant, Ignatius rapidly stitches and sutures. As he clamps arteries shut and cauterises veins with an eye-watering sizzle and hiss, the richly-dressed individual drops out of immediate danger; he is still very much on death's door, however, a fact immediately obvious to anyone beholding his blue lips and pale face. As for the other wounded individuals - for the most part, Ignatiustends to them as they stand, with the aid of Cogitatio to attend to anything he would otherwise need to stoop for. Probably best not to kneel or sit on such a soiled surface. Gamma, for her part, attempts to detect the touch of the Warp on the group, but the surroundings are not exactly... conducive to a calm mind.

For their part, the Acolytes outside - pausing to scrub their boots on a handy kerbstone - make their way round to the front of the building. The trick is not so much not being seen, as not being seen to be looking; still, within moments, Max picks up on likely candidates that could well be searching for the clinic interlopers. A group of six men in the heavy flak armour of Enforcers appear to be making their way up the main street at a jog, weapons slung over their backs; this isn't normally an uncommon sight, but this particular gaggle appear to be checking a handheld auspex any time they come to an intersection or alleyway, presumably following the trail of blood. They're impeded by the crowd, and they're stopping to question passers-by, cuff beggars, and perform usual Enforcerly activities, but at a studied guess they'll be at the front door of the clinic in ninety seconds, tops.

---

scrun- wait, wrong thread

aperta ignatius stops the bleeding, as expected. multiple DoS, more than needed, and that's without taking any assistance into account. the mans are now not exactly healthy, but patched up; the smartly dressed guy is no longer in immediate danger. the dudes aperta pulled aside have been tracked and marked; you can follow them when you next have downtime at the warehouse, no roll needed.

gamma: yeah, you do actually pick up something on these guys despite the bad rolls. it's not strong but it's very pervasive. they themselves are not psychic in any way, nor does it feel like they've had any psychic power used on them, but it's more like they've been near something vaguely psychic for a long while. you've encountered the general terroir of this recently - in the past couple weeks - but you can't tell where due to insufficient DoS

bulworth and max stealth, scrutinise; stealth is dead easy because you aren't specifically being looked for so your only real goal is "look casual" - that's a success. you do indeed spot the dudes following the guys in the clinic; bulworth sort of flubs, but max manages quite well and can therefore point them out

so you have ninety seconds before stuff probably kicks off. it's thirty seconds at a narrative dash to get back into the back room for max and bulworth, sixty seconds to be back through the back room and out the front door.

surgery will take a lot longer than ninety seconds; the unconscious guy will need to be brought back into conciousness before he can be mind-probed, because, well, telepathic link reads thoughts, and he hasn't got many thoughts at the moment.

Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 18:47 on May 8, 2017

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Max Flightmaster
This isn't good at all. Max spots the Enforcer squad and subvocalizes via microbead to the squad. "Found the trackers, ETA 90 seconds unless they are interrupted. 6 man squad of Enforcers with an auspex chatting up the locals every intersection or so to make sure they are headed the right way. I can take them under fire and shoot buckshot over their heads and pin them down. It'll give them something else to focus on for an extra minute or so instead of their mission but fellas, you need to go now. Any better ideas better come fast because I'm engaging in 60 seconds." With that, Max will blend in with the crowd and move to a vantage point where he can flank the squad and draw them down a different intersection than the one they are headed up to.

If Max does not receive an answer or an actionable plan within a minute of ingame time he's going to ambush the Enforcers and try to draw them away from you guys. Mainly because its what makes sense to me right this second and I want to keep these guys alive. Smarter people give my dude something else to do

pre:
Primary Combat Block:
WS  BS  S   T   Ag  Int Per WP  Fel  
35  45  30  30  40  40  40  30  20

Wounds: 8/8   Fate: 4/4  Initiative: 1d10+4
Half Move: 4 Full Move: 8 Charge: 12 Run: 24
SB: 3  TB: 3
Armour: 3 [Arms/Body]
Acrobatics: 40
Awareness: 40
Dodge: 40
Medicae: 40[50] (Medikit)
Security: 40[70] (Multikey)
Stealth: 40
Tech-Use: 40

Weapons: (Currently selected weapons are in BOLD)
Combat Shotgun 30m S/3/- 1d10+4[7] I Pen: 0 Clip: 27/27 Rld: Half Special: Scatter, Silenced
Chainsword 1d10+5 R Pen: 2 Special: Balanced, Tearing

Special Abilities
Close Quarters Discipline: An Imperial Navy character scores one additional degree of success on successful Ballistic Skill 
tests he makes against targets at Point-Blank range, at Short range, and with whom he is engaged in melee.
Rely on None but Yourself: A frontier world character gains a +20 bonus to Tech-Use tests when applying personal weapon modifications, 
and a +10 bonus when repairing damaged items
Sure Kill: In addition to the normal uses of Fate points, when an Assassin successfully hits with an attack, he may spend a Fate point to 
inflict additional damage equal to his degrees of success on the attack roll on the first hit the attack inflicts

Viva Miriya fucked around with this message at 22:59 on Jun 24, 2017

Who What Now
Sep 10, 2006

by Azathoth
Aperta Ignavus
Port Remonstrance
Morgue Complex


Aperta directs Cogitatio to close the last incision with a thin spray of bio-epoxy that quickly solidifies seconds after exposure to the air. "This man is safe to be moved, but is going to need bed rest and liquids at the very least and preferably a blood transfusion and fluid IV as well. If I may, I would suggest doing so immediately." The priest says with as much insistence his monotone vox can allow.

Aperta begins to gather his supplies so that he too can leave as soon as possible. Cogitatio retracts it's medicae-manipulators and returns to it's neutral configuration, but it trills worriedly as it senses it's masters foul mood.

"This holy place has been profaned enough," Aperta voxes quietly to the others, "I cannot allow it to be further sullied with a gunfight between the uninitiated. Slow them, please."

DeathSandwich
Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.
Barry "The Bull" Bulworth

In a Remonstrance Minute
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8wWa3O9cUo

I take another drag on the lho stick before activating the stud of my Comm Badge. "So how do we want to handle it? Are we pacifying them with prejudice or do you want us to distract and take them out on a jog about town while you set sutures and get him relocated? In terms of us vs them we're outnumbered. Are this guy's other bodyguards in any shape to get in another fight? If we can spring an ambush on these guys from the main lobby me and Max and run a anvil and hammer maneuver and hit them from behind, cut them down like chaff." I take one last big pull on the lho before snubbing it out on the side of a dumpster and dropping it in the muddy puddle at my feet. "If we're feeling daring we can try and split them up on the street, but I doubt we'd be able to remove all the heat from you. We can make it work though."

I turn to Max and hold out one of my stun grenades to him. "I've got an idea, get back to the rear door and wait, I'm going to try and lead some of them off."

Turning the comm stud back on I ask ominously. "Hey Aperta, can you get your patient's name from one of his guards?" as I pull a second stun grenade into my hand, my thumb in the pin, ready for action.

-----
Giving Max a stun grenade should he want it. My ingenious plan is that as they get near the building I'm going to step out, whistle loudly and shout "<Shot up guy's name> Says Relax!" and throw a concussion grenade at the guy with the auspex from long, probably extreme range.
Even if I don't hit them, I'm hoping some of them break off and try and chase me, at which point I lead them around the blind corner in the alley where Max can shotgun them from behind. I'm going to assume before this attack happens I'll have a full round aim at +20, +10 for single attack, -20 range and inescapable attack will give the enemy a penalty to evasion equal to my Degrees of Successx5. after the half action attack my other half action will be to half action move around the corner and back into the alley.

Edit: If the attack misses - I will spend a fate point to reroll.

pre:
Wounds: 10/10      AP:5 All
Fate: 3/3          TB:4

WS:   25       
BS:   45       
S:    25       
T:    40     
Ag:   45     
Int:  25     
Per:  38       
WP:   30     
Fel:  30     

Skills: Acrobatics, Awareness, Dodge, Stealth

Talents: Ambidextrous, Catfall, Quickdraw, Two Weapon Wielder (ballistic), Weapon Training (SP), Inescapable Attack (ranged), Mighty Shot (already factored into weapon damage listed below)

Weapons:
Stub Automatic w/ Silencer
(Pistol | 30m | S/3/- | 1d10+5 I | Pen 0 | Clip 9/9 ) 

Autopistol w/ Motion Predictor and Silencer
(Pistol | 30m | S/-/6 | 1d10+4 I | Pen 0 | Clip 12/18 | +10 BS to full auto ) 

Sawed off shotgun W/ Amputator shells
(Pistol | 20m | S/2/- | 1d10+8 | pen 0 | Clip 1/2  | Scatter, Ammo 6)

Stun Grenade x4
(thrown | 3xSB | Special | Blast (3), Concussive (2)

DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 20:18 on May 2, 2017

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

I'll play ball with Deathsandwich. Longer post to follow later.

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
'Gamma'

Moving behind some some equipment to get out of the eyes of the gang Gamma hurriedly sub-vocalizes into her micro-bead:

"Wait. Tell the Enforcers that the gang is here, that they have offended the Adeptus Mechanicus, and they will be punished accordingly. That will buy us plenty of time."

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Max Flightmaster
"Got it Gamma. Playing it your way. Bull you cover me if this doesn't pan out." Max then turns off his stummer, steps out into the street and flags down the Enforcers in a credible Imperial Navy fashion.

A few moments later
Journal of Enforcer Dane Howill
"We had just finished talking to the locals in search of some scum when out of nowhere a booming voice silenced the market. "COME HERE FUCKHEAD!" I thought it was the lieutenant but it was down the street. The guy yelling at us, no correction me, was an Imperial Navy officer of some kind in a Flak Coat with a wicked shotgun in one hand pointed skyward and a chainsword on his hilt. Why's it have a suppressor on the barrel? "HEY FUCKHEAD!" He's looking right at me, like he can see through my soul. "YOU! COME HERE!" The patrol sergeant shrugs and tells me to run over to him to see what he has and tells everyone to get ready. The man started talking to me as soon as I arrived. "Ok listen close Enforcer. My name is Petty Officer Dingleberry, Imperial Navy Security Forces. I know why you are up here looking and asking the locals about. The scumbags you are pursuing have offended the Adeptus Mechanicus by forcing their way into one of their facilities while we were there babysitting our Tech-Priest, apparently he needed to talk to the local Magos about machine spirits and sacred unguents and poo poo. The survivors are currently in the process of being servitor'd. My instructions were to relay this information that I've just told you. Do you understand?" I nodded my head in the affirmative that I understood. "Good, now go away cumdrop."

pre:
Primary Combat Block:
WS  BS  S   T   Ag  Int Per WP  Fel  
35  45  30  30  40  40  40  30  20

Wounds: 8/8   Fate: 4/4  Initiative: 1d10+4
Half Move: 4 Full Move: 8 Charge: 12 Run: 24
SB: 3  TB: 3
Armour: 3 [Arms/Body]
Acrobatics: 40
Awareness: 40
Dodge: 40
Medicae: 40[50] (Medikit)
Security: 40[70] (Multikey)
Stealth: 40
Tech-Use: 40

Weapons: (Currently selected weapons are in BOLD)
Combat Shotgun 30m S/3/- 1d10+4[7] I Pen: 0 Clip: 27/27 Rld: Half Special: Scatter, Silenced
Chainsword 1d10+5 R Pen: 2 Special: Balanced, Tearing

Special Abilities
Close Quarters Discipline: An Imperial Navy character scores one additional degree of success on successful Ballistic Skill 
tests he makes against targets at Point-Blank range, at Short range, and with whom he is engaged in melee.
Rely on None but Yourself: A frontier world character gains a +20 bonus to Tech-Use tests when applying personal weapon modifications, 
and a +10 bonus when repairing damaged items
Sure Kill: In addition to the normal uses of Fate points, when an Assassin successfully hits with an attack, he may spend a Fate point to 
inflict additional damage equal to his degrees of success on the attack roll on the first hit the attack inflicts

Viva Miriya fucked around with this message at 22:59 on Jun 24, 2017

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Acrimonious
Morgue Environs
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbX5E5PFQFM

Journal of Enforcer Dane Howill posted:

I understood, alright. if they were sending out people to gently caress with us, it meant we were on the right track. The Sarge weighed in.

"I don't see any bulkheads 'round here, offworlder. And that means that if you are who you say you are, you're out 'a your jurisdiction, son." I remember her scratching at the joint of her arm, where the metal met the flesh, before continuing. "Only Cog presence I know 'round here's near the morgue, so unless you're suggestin' our targets got spirited halfway across the city, guess that's where we're heading."

She jerked a metallic thumb in the direction of the guy in the coat, who wasn't looking too happy.

"Cuff 'im to a railing, we'll pick him up later. Arbites can smooth things over with the Cogs later"

Next thing I remember was a pounding headache...

        - Extract from papers found in Inquisitor Adrastius' private library, previously presumed lost on Ourybia

Max's attempt to stall the enforcers hadn't met with a great deal of success; catching a flicker of movement from the corner of his vision, he clamps his hands over his ears and screws his eyes tight. Bulworth's stun grenade shows up right on schedule, landing just in front of the enforcer group; the detonation is deafening even with these preparations. Five of the group are completely disorientated, eyes sightless, banging their hands against the sides of their helmets; only the rearmost, shielded from the blast by his comrades, remains upright and coherent. His head whips around, seeking the source of the attack, and it will be a second or two before he connects Max's presence with Bulworth's assault.

Naturally, the crowded street reacts poorly to a sudden, shocking explosion. People almost immediately begin pouring away from the blast, shrieking and adding to the confusion, while further away, onlookers begin rubbernecking with interest.


init gets rolled after the Surprise round; there's only two of you! there's a big lizard pulling a cart because why not


----

Sequacious, cont.
Morgue Complex, Autopsy Chamber
Port Remonstrance


The lieutenant is visibly nonplussed.

"Who said anything about moving him? He needs medical attention. You're medics. Get on with it."

A muffled bang from outside draws his attention.

"Was that your guys?" A hand gesture sends three of his men - the ones carrying longarms - scurrying to the main entrance of the building to take up defensive stations. "Now come on, get moving. Blythe, get over here." The indicated man shuffles over, rolling up his sleeve to expose the underside of his forearm, several IV marks, and a curiously spiky, blocky tattoo. It's not really the same schema as the one on the now-mulched squid creature, and nothing like the dogtags from Cizneros' office, but it's not totally dissimilar.

---

and... we're back.

so i'm gonna call max's "go away" speech trained Intimidate rather than untrained Deceive, and i'll let you take it against Intelligence as it's not what you'd call a direct threat. that's about as much charity as i'm willing to dispense though; bit of a bonus due to a good story, but a final modifier of -10 due to the antagonistic approach, fact that enforcers are generally hardened against thuggish behaviour, the fact that max is outnumbered and the fact that they rather want to catch the dudes they were chasing before their brains get scooped out. max is technically correct in that the Mechanicus have jurisdiction in Mechanicus enclaves, but that's really more for e.g. the footfall bunker-shrine where Aperta got his plasma gun, than for an office complex that gets used for engaging with the public

TN 30, roll of 36; wouldn't recommend fating this as you'd swap out for a 96 :q:. enforcers get a 6 on the opposed WP test, meaning a comfortable victory for them. words have failed, and in their mind you've just confirmed for them where the other dudes are.

so, the stun grenade happens. Bulworth has a scandalously high TN for the attack due to Surprise apparently making it easier for you to hit an unaware dude than a spot on the ground; even with a roll of 70 he places the grenade squarely in the centre of the enforcer pack; i'm not giving them an awareness check for this because, well, their attention's elsewhere.

one enforcer is unaffected; the rest are stunned for 2, 3, 4, 5, 9 rounds. i'm going to abstract that out to the whole lot of them being stunned and Prone for five rounds; take out the one who's still on his feet and that's more than enough time for you to coup de gras the whole lot of them, should you choose. remaining upright guy is Surprised.

four dudes remain in the autopsy room; one enforcer remains upright outside

max: the enforcers exchanged significant "seriously?" glances when you said you were Navy, which has probably seriously hampered your attempts to persuade them.
ignatius: Blythe's tattoo is recognisable as a variant on an Imperial Navy system; it indicates "universal blood donor". this particular tattoo is not the same sort as on the squid, which were previously established as ID tattoos, but then you're only seeing one arm...

Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 16:22 on May 29, 2017

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Max Flightmaster
Initiative: 1d10+3 12
Max circles around the group of enforcers to see who isn't burying their face in their hands from the banger. Eyeing the one guy whose up, he rushes him and knocks him to the ground before using the Enforcers own cuffs on him. He then begins cuffing each guy in turn as fast as he can slap the cuffs on. ++Get over here and cuff these assholes!++

Charge/Cuff vs 85: 1d100 26 6 DoS


pre:
Primary Combat Block:
WS  BS  S   T   Ag  Int Per WP  Fel  
35  45  30  30  40  40  40  30  20

Wounds: 8/8   Fate: 4/4  Initiative: 1d10+4
Half Move: 4 Full Move: 8 Charge: 12 Run: 24
SB: 3  TB: 3
Armour: 3 [Arms/Body]
Acrobatics: 40
Awareness: 40
Dodge: 40
Medicae: 40[50] (Medikit)
Security: 40[70] (Multikey)
Stealth: 40
Tech-Use: 40

Weapons: (Currently selected weapons are in BOLD)
Combat Shotgun 30m S/3/- 1d10+4[7] I Pen: 0 Clip: 27/27 Rld: Half Special: Scatter, Silenced
Chainsword 1d10+5 R Pen: 2 Special: Balanced, Tearing

Special Abilities
Close Quarters Discipline: An Imperial Navy character scores one additional degree of success on successful Ballistic Skill 
tests he makes against targets at Point-Blank range, at Short range, and with whom he is engaged in melee.
Rely on None but Yourself: A frontier world character gains a +20 bonus to Tech-Use tests when applying personal weapon modifications, 
and a +10 bonus when repairing damaged items
Sure Kill: In addition to the normal uses of Fate points, when an Assassin successfully hits with an attack, he may spend a Fate point to 
inflict additional damage equal to his degrees of success on the attack roll on the first hit the attack inflicts

Viva Miriya fucked around with this message at 22:57 on Jun 24, 2017

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

so you can't reach the standing Surprised dude and cuff him in the same round but you can always Stun him. you're not normally able to do that as part of a charge action but because he's surprised i think i'm OK with it.

-20 to hit, which doesn't matter with your current roll. no malus for unarmed, apparently. 1d10+3 (+1 circumstance for charge) pseudo-damage to the head = just enough pseudodamage to stun him for one round, and no actual damage done. this puts him down, and next round you can draw his cuffs and deploy them. in the meantime, bulworth will probably have accounted for two more.

honestly apart from the grenade, the Stun is the only diceroll that i think this bit needs - you can handwave the rest of it. odds are fewer than two enforcers will remain uncuffed at the end of four rounds, after which you just jump on the remaining heads until you get a good Stun roll again and resume cuffing. i'm not positive we need to dice this out unless you're feeling particularly brutal.

DeathSandwich
Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.
Barry "The Bull" Bulworth

In a Remonstrance Minute
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuAzPR0ACVw

I pull the impact visor down on my helmet to obscure more of my already fairly covered facial features from here on in. I tap on the comm bead and speak back into the comm bead over the panicked shouting of the crowd, "Yeah, Gam, telling them their target was exactly where they thought he would be bought you negative time. The armed goons aren't interested in second hand cog justice as it turns out. Luckily we have plan B."

I charge out of the alley into the sprawl of enforcers writhing in agony. My shackles already in hand, ready to make the action happen.

----------
Charging in to start laying cuffs on people. Will start with the standing upright guy if Max can't make cuffs happen and/or if Max just grapples him to give me the opportunity to cuff him. If someone starts recovering before I can lay all the shackles on them, they are going to get a dose of big stick diplomacy. The stick in this case being a sawed off double barrel pointing down their maw and the 'diplomacy' part being "time to cuff yourself or else you get a half dozen new ventilation holes in your face".

DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 16:19 on May 30, 2017

Who What Now
Sep 10, 2006

by Azathoth
Aperta Ignavus
Port Remonstrance
Morgue Complex


"I am not a 'medic'." Aperta says with as much sarcasm as a monotone voxcaster can muster. Which isn't much. "'Medic' is a term for the laity that choose to pursue careers or expertise in medicine. I am a Magos Errant working on behalf of the Divisio Biologis of the Adeptus Mechanicus and with the blessing of the holy Omnissiah."

Aperta goes to work operating on the wounded man, directing Cogitatio through his noosphere link and disdainfully using his hands when he has little other choice. Despite his best efforts​ to remain objective and impartial, the tech-priest is more than a little annoyed with the disrespect the gangers have shown him and the Mechanicus as a whole. As such, the incisions and are perhaps not to the exact level of perfection they could be, or the laser-cauterization is perhaps applied for a nano-second too long. Aperta will pray to be rid of this pettiness later, but for now he must continue as an imperfect being.

"To remind you, the Cult Mechanicus, of course, accept gracious donations for our charity." He says with a motion towards a collections box while Cogitatio fills a cavity in the wounded man's body with bio-foam.

______________________

Looks like these dudes are sticking around, so I'll go ahead and make a Medicae Roll: 64. With a +0 difficulty my TN is 70, so an assist would be nice. I don't want to spend a FP on these schmucks.

Who What Now fucked around with this message at 20:33 on May 30, 2017

Leperflesh
May 17, 2007

Ignatius Malbau
Morgue Complex
Port Remonstrance


Ignatius pointedly sticks a finger in his ear, giving the universal sign of "I'm listening to my com-bead." "My colleagues are indicating that they have temporarily delayed your pursuers. At some significant risk to ourselves, I'll add. So we will proceed to save this fellow's life, and we insist that as soon as we have done so, you remove him and yourselves from these premises... peacefully and quietly. In exchange for being cooperative, we will not tell them which way you went. Yes? A deal?"

Ignatius catches a glimpse of a tattoo...

"Ah, master Aperta, it seems Mr. Blythe here is a universal blood donor; I think you'll agree a transfusion would be helpful, let me begin the necessary ablutions..."

Ignatius provides a Medicae assist to Aperta, and attempts to negotiate with the thugs.

Leperflesh fucked around with this message at 22:42 on May 30, 2017

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
'Gamma'
Morgue Complex


Gamma winces at the sound of her plan going awry. It must have sounded better in her head, like a lot of things. She scurries out from behind the rack of highly technical equipment with a hastily gathered tray of entirely random surgical tools and unguents to maintain the pretense of looking useful. Looking down at their barely conscious patient she comes to a snap decision - what better time to probe a mind for secrets then when it is weak and any memory of the intrusion can be written off as delirious ravings? Some psykers would try to maintain eye or even skin contact when using telepathy, but Gamma has always preferred a more impersonal approach. Whispering inside her gauze mask to focus her will, she reaches across the imperceptible, immeasurable distance between two minds.

Telepathic Link Focus Power WP -10, +10 Psy Focus, +10 Fettered Psy rating = 60

Telepathic Link TN 60: 1d100 11 6 DoS

Target must oppose at WP-10

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Loquacious
Morgue Complex, Autopsy Chamber
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1V5wFyDOXo4

The goggled lieutenant is dropping a handful of ten-crown pieces into the gore-spattered donations box just inside the autopsy chamber door, with exaggerated care, as he listens to Ignatius's proposal. He does, however, cock a sharp eyebrow as the man reveals a casual familiarity with Navy semiotics, as well as the nous to correctly interpret what is a deviation from Fleet standard.

"That's... right, actually. I assume you haven't always called this ball of ocean home then, Doctor?" His gaze lingers on Aperta for a moment, presumably while he memorises the name.

"As for getting out of here with minimal fuss, that is exactly what we plan to do. We accept your, ah, kind offer."

The minutes tick by as Aperta and Ignatius work. It is bloody, fiddly, painstaking; the man has been shot in the torso and gut with large-bore shotshells commensurate with those in use by enforcer squads. In addition to having to pick out the ceramic sherds that pass for buckshot on this world, the pair of them need to set broken ribs, suture ruptured intestines, and deal with a myriad of tiny, sucking chest wounds. Max and Bulworth return presently, the latter tossing the enforcer auspex from hand to hand; the Arbite finds a convenient bench to lean against while he files off the serial number.

It seems that standing in a red, sticky puddle of undifferentiated pseudopsyker residue isn't the optimum conditions for Gamma to ply her trade of the mind; as she focuses her powers, she is distracted by one of the interlopers suddenly looking up sharply and casting around as if trying to pinpoint the source of a noise. Off-balance, Gamma is momentarily struck by a glimpse of the turmoil seething below the skin of reality. Eight roiling, writhing stars, buzzing and feeding off each other, vast tendrils of flame coruscating through the void of space. It makes concentrating on the task at hand a little tricky, to say the least, but her target's mind is flensed wide open due to recent traumas, and she feels, she sees-

Gaius posted:


...a rushing sensation... constriction... bright light... raw lungs... a colossal impact, he opens his mouth to scream, and-

...sits among serried ranks in the nursery creche, his entire world these steel walls, as-

...hustling through cramped corridors past full-grown voidsmen and pipework, carrying-

...the unfamiliar weight of his uniform on adolescent shoulders, listening to the drill-abbot announcing the term's officer training curriculum, and-

...great sheeting waves of slurried water being driven up by his churning legs belowdecks, catching the hulghast's claw on his chainsword as a young man who looks very much like the lieutenant huddles in a ragged, gasping heap of-

...the Luciferous Refulgance in orbit around a small watery agriworld, chasing rumours of great profit beneath the waves, his team selected to support but not accompany-

...horrifying accident, behemoths, lost radio contact with-

...stay behind-

...rescue-

...from the Omphalos-


A crashing chunk of context detaches itself and thuds into Gamma's mind; this man is one of the, if not the, major players in Remonstrance organised crime, and has recently switched heavily into the extremely lucrative Spook trade. The raw materials for this would normally be prohibitively rare. Psychically-infused flesh is a commodity that most markets struggle to lay hands on. However, around eight months ago, an anonymous source was kind enough to let Gaius know that if he sends his men to certain pelagic coordinates - far from land, far from shipping lanes - then every two weeks a certain amount of precisely this commodity would be made available. Sure enough, barrels of the stuff - homogenised, primordial slurry - were found bobbing around in the currents.

Not one to question his good fortune, Gaius' Spook trade flourished, bringing in profits in months that would previously have taken years to accumulate. Him and his men may have been in a position to bribe their way into access to a submersible, except...

---

The last of the sherds are picked out, and the final lesions healed. Gaius' lungs are unlikely to fill with bloody froth, choking him slowly to death, nor are his intestines likely to spasm and fill his abdominal cavity with sepsis-inducing effluvia. He's still not concious, but his lips no longer have the blue tinge and deathly pallor of a man on death's door.

"I won't lie", says the lieutenant, as his men cautiously check that the coast is clear to leave. "I'm not entirely sure why you felt the urge to tangle with that brute squad. Still, I assume you had your reasons. And for that, I'm grateful." With a final nod, he slips out of the door, into the rear alleyway, and away.

Urchins are currently rifling the pockets of the furious enforcers, but their companions will be here soon. Besides, the blood coating the autopsy chamber is starting to coagulate; it's probably time to slip into the crowds, away, and for the cell to collate what they have learned.

---

bare success on the medicae to heal; -10 + 10 for the assist. the bossman lives.

phenomena roll for gamma is a 15; WP bonus takes that down to a 10, meaning a -5 malus to her WP test, which doesn't impact number of successes. rich dude gets a majestic 99 on his opposed test; the squad sensitive fails his -10 Psyniscience test.

the wounded guy is part of a shipboard delegation left here by the ship Luciferous Refulgence twenty years ago. the main body of their group tried finding something beneath the waves, it hosed up horribly, and the remnants have been here ever since trying to get their hands on a submersible. there basically aren't any anymore that aren't in the hands of nobles; quite why these weren't options is unclear but it would imply they're either fabulously, insanely expensive, or that legitimate imperial authorities would not be too happy about the reasons for needing one. the remnants then turned to crime to build resources, and are currently hit quite hard by the Spook crackdown

gamma can, on demand, produce the coordinates of the barrel pickup points. they aren't the same as the place the squid tried to teleport to; squid were sticking coastal, these coords are about a day's journey out to sea in a regular boat, half a day for a speedy smuggler.

she also gains a specific talent - Remonstrance Underworld Understandings - enabling her to assist Common Lore: Underworld skill checks without having the skill, and providing a +30 bonus instead of +10 for this.

i will do a scene closure and sum-up post tomorrow where you'll be back at the warehouse; railroading for ease, we'll go with the approach that Gamma can't tell the rest of the cell of her findings until the gangers have left, but that you will be able to find them again with trivial effort should you wish to do so in future. plus this way you're not on the back foot

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Loquacious
Warehouse Base
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVpl-RNzdE4

It has to be said that in terms of alleviating human suffering, the acolytes' commandeering of a Biologis satellite office actually did a fair amount of good. A huge number of citizens were treated; limbs set, poxes cured. Unfortunately, if there's one thing the Imperium is rich in, it's useless bodies; their efforts are a drop in the ocean. It's technology and understanding that is the bottleneck in the Imperium of Man, and the acolytes have done their bit to disrupt this. The state of the autopsy room - a room they weren't even supposed to be in - causes some consternation among the Biologis when they investigate, several days down the line. Worse is the discovery of the ruined autopsy-servitors; they will require swapping out, which could take weeks. Although there is nothing directly linking the acolytes to the chaos, it happened on their watch - and they were introduced under the auspices of Friar Kram, ostensibly to make up for failing to repair even more precious technology. It will be some time before the Friar is willing to be even minimally helpful, now that his reputation has been so casually trampled.

The gangers who burst in on the surgery have acted as a focal point for most of the gossip about the situation. The story grows in the re-telling; the fact that no-one actually died means there's no dramatic, gory details, and the medical staff - the cell - actually feature fairly lightly. Despite the drama inherent in the situation, it actually doesn't raise quite so many alarm bells with those who have an ear for such things, as could be expected. The criminals themselves disappeared into the Remonstrance mileu shortly after being patched up; a day or so later, the Spook crackdown begins to run into stiffer resistance, and starts to falter. Should the cell encounter these particular gangers again, there is a good chance they will be able to leverage a debt of gratitude. It's just a matter of doing so without tipping in information...

The Enforcers, on the other hand, have a keen interest in those who ambushed them. With more knowledge of who they were pursuing, they can recognise an interfering busybody when they see one. Max and Bulworth fit the bill. When the furious squad are finally rescued by their companions, word quickly spreads around the various concerns who operate security in Remonstrance. Crude identikit pictures are plastered up in guard posts throughout the city; death in the line of duty is one thing, but humiliation is something quite different. Most of the cell are probably OK, but Max and Bulworth in particular should be wary about dealing particularly closely with security personnel until tempers have a chance to simmer down. Casual activity is fine - it's festival season, masks are in fashion - but maybe hitching a ride on an enforcer shuttle into orbit is not the best of ideas. Very easy to fall down the stairs.

A considerable amount of knowledge was unearthed regarding the squid-constructs that were attempting to make off with Cizneros' brain. A strong intimation that something lurks beneath the waves was gleaned from the brain of Gaius, criminal entrepreneur. Psykers, and psyker byproducts, appear to be intensely bound up in whatever mystery is going on here. The cell have a plethora of leads to follow, and it could well feel as though the tide is finally starting to turn, on working out what exactly is happening on this planet.

---

Uproarious
Unknown
Unknown


There is a period of discontinuity. Water trickles down the walls, dribbling into other, less pure fluids; the chamber is in disarray. Presently, servitors stump in to right furniture, tend to spillages, recycle what can be recycled.

Another failure. Frustrating. But closer now. Closer.

----

to sum up:



you have actually taken some subtlety knocks here - you just didn't take as much as you might have had people died.

so. 600xp rather than 500 to account for nefariously avoiding a three-way gunfight. it's downtime time, you guys can pick how much you want to take; it will probably depend what you want to get up to before you go haring off on the next investigation

Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 00:04 on Jun 8, 2017

DeathSandwich
Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.
Barry "The Bull" Bulworth

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSLJbUVq3bg

Homecoming
The Docklands
Port Remonstrance
Morning



I sat on an upturned bucket watching the sun rise over the sea, a lukewarm cup of cheap burnt recaff wedged between my knees and a lho stick hanging off my lips. The morning shifts in the nearby docks and warehouses have arrived and already the fleets of trawling ships chuck steadily out to sea to find their catch for the day, the faint chug of their engines joining the background noise of the tide crashing against the bank. Diesel fumes wisp across the wind, the smell lights a small flash of memory of the life I left behind to join this madness.

The last of our sordid group had finally arrived for the morning and began getting situated for the day, discussing in depth about where we stand. I tried to take things in stride - while we didn't blow our cover outright or, our tangle with the authorities have left us uncomfortably exposed. While the sketches of Max and Myself that the Port Authorities created are of a dubious, vague likeness at best, Gaius' bodyguards have apparently been spreading the word about what happened in the seedier circles of the Port. Being able to tangle with the Port Authorities while outnumbered and walking away unscathed has certainly earned some respect for me in shady circles. "Folk hero" may be too strong of a word to use for the moment, but that's how those sorts of rumors get started.

After the last of the lho smokes out, I slide the bucket back toward the warehouse and wander inside to join the others

-----

I don't like it.

In saving that man, Gaius, we ingratiated ourselves to a semi-known spook dealer at the expense of exposure to the Port Authorities. I feel like we're on the wrong side of things here, but if Gamma is right there's a larger conspiracy at hand regarding this spook, and the PA is going to be far too busy busting heads among the bottom rung dealers and the occasional capo to ever make their way up the chain to the people at the top. Gaius at least gets us an in - someone we can step on to move up and make the next level of the organization running the trade. He's probably going to need a few days to recover though, last we saw him he was basically comatose and in no position to even walk, let alone be leaned on for intel.

One thing has become obvious though, this spook crackdown has put everyone on edge. There's an arms race being ran between the cops and the robbers resulting in escalating violence on both sides. The gangers and underworld types are going to be bringing heavier arms to bear and breaking out their rarer stocks, which could give me a chance to pick up a new piece in process.

I tell my comrades that my immediate priority is Cizneros' friend Barbagio. The man seems like a mild mannered sort, I don't think I'll need to get forceful with him. A scrivener's shop might provide a spot of opportunity to do some research on the local noble houses to see if anything in the Deculon or Hepaticon family past could foretell their present and future.

I figure while I'm out and about I'll probably visit Maggie on the way back, see if the conflicts with the Authorities has brought her any new goods pilfered from the Port Authorities or Noble Houses.

----------

Mostly checking in and seeing where everyone else's immediate priorities lie at the moment. I am for sure going to be buying Peer (underworld) for 300 exp because I would think a daring act of altruism to help the downtrodden like what me and Max pulled off would probably earn me some respect in those circles. Still don't know what I want to buy with the other 300. If I'm feeling saucy I would buy a second level of Peer (underworld) or something. Otherwise the last 300 exp will be spent according to how my requisitions and/or next major order of business go. If we're going to get potentially squiddy I may pick up Resistance (fear) to try and shore myself up and not poop my pants as hard this time.

I'm going to be checking in with Barbagio, and see if I can glean any information about Cizneros or the Deculons that we don't already know. I'll worry about requisitions after the Barbagio visit.

I will be picking up a mask to continue to be out in public for a while. In the next scene I'm going without my armor or grenades/shotgun, just my street clothing/coat, my autopistol, and my stub auto. Going to try and keep a low profile for the next few social encounters.

DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 14:39 on Jun 9, 2017

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
'Gamma'
Docklands
Port Remonstrance
Montage


The Octet burns in Gamma's mind's eye whether waking and sleeping. Long games of Regicide and discussions of mutant physiology with Aperta do nothing to dispel her lingering unease. Being put through combat exercises and daily calisthenics by Bulworth and Flightmaster to the point of exhaustion have her fit and limber, but as soon as the adrenaline fades the cursed stars float back in to view. Prayer and meditation fail to give lasting relief. Driven by a desire to do nothing more than strike out at her own fear she finds the focus to to push her psychic development to a new point, and one by one the stars grow dim as she visualizes snuffing them with her new power. But they are never truly dead, just dormant.

She knows now (with sickening certainty) that the Spook trade, the psychic mutants that killed Cizneros, and 'Omphalos' are connected. Gaius doesn't or didn't know who gave him the information that lead his crew to the dumping spot, but that source must be connected to his organization somehow, and will be a priority to recover in coming days. Perhaps they can be uncovered through covert observation of Gaiuses operations? Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

To avoid being isolated on long stakeout (of people who would happily grind her flesh to make their illegal narcotic) and also to put off for another day the inevitable trip to the drop zone, Gamma joins Bulworth on his mission to interview Barbagio.

Who What Now
Sep 10, 2006

by Azathoth
Aperta Ignavus
Port Remonstrance
Safehouse - Debriefing


It has been a long, but fruitful day and Aperta's mind is filled with new information. Information that both fills him with equal parts hope and dread, or at least as much of those feelings the Magos can still feel. When the cell reconvenes they begin to discuss their findings in turn and this time Aperta is active and quite vocal, unlike his usual demeanor of distracted indifference as he sorts through his own thoughts privately.

On the forefront of conversation is the revelation that the mutants are not mere random curses caused of maladies of the soul or exposure to warp corruption. These were guided, engineered, with a disgusting purpose.

"Hereteks!" Aperta says with a shocking amount of anger, by far the most emotion the cell has ever seen the normally stoic priest. Cogitatio's weapons systems begin to warm up in sympathetic anger, cold blue light shining through the gaps of it's chassis. "The human form is a machine made flesh, it is sacred form that may be brought closer to the perfection of the Emperor and Omnissiah with approved cybernetics and organic implants, but those... things are abominations. They were designed with twisted purpose. Only the vile monsters of the Dark Mechanicus would have the means and the sickness of mind to attempt such a thing."

Aperta goes on to explain his findings from the autopsy to the cell in detail, and in turn listens to their own discoveries. The conspiracy deepens, but so too does their convictions.

__________________

Safehouse - Self-Care, Self-Improvement

After the meeting Aperta excuses himself to his workshop and closes the tattered curtains to allow himself some privacy. There was time again, as plans were made and executed. And Aperta has plans of his own.

After several hours of prayer and penance for his actions destroying holy servitors, Aperta begins to work. He was so close to finishing a new masterpiece of micro-fabrication prior to the mission to the Morgue, and finally he can complete it. He holds aloft what appears to be a common data-crystal, a form of information storage capable of holding relatively large amounts of data within it's crystalline matrix. This particular data-crystal was quite a bit smaller than the average, and quite a bit more complex as well. It would be able to store entire of libraries of data to be held at the ready within Cogitatio, ready to be recalled at a moment's notice. With the utmost care Aperta slots the crystalline matrix within the confines of his familiar's semi-organic brain and sets the skull gently within it's charging cradle as it's internal logic-patterns were rewritten to handle and process the many terrabytes of new data.

This will take some time, and so Aperta turns to his armor, set carefully on his workbench, and begins the work of his latest plans with a binaric hymm buzzing softly through his vox. Applying the new diamond-fiber reinforcing epoxies is simple but monotonous and will take quite some time, but it allows the tech-priest time to run much needed internal diagnostics and reformatting of his own internal mental components.

When the Magos exits some time later it is with new confidence, a minor rebirth of both body and mind.

________________

Port Remonstrance
Streets - Searching


<Cogitatio. Initiate Vox Tracking Protocols, Target: Secundous Targets Alpha, Beta. Execute> Aperta commands in binary to his servo-skull. Cogitatio chirps dutifully and it's auspex eye shifting through several colors before settling on a deep purple. It takes a moment for the auspex to find the singles of the tracking devices Aperta gave to the two people at the clinic, but when it does he begins to march single-mindedly in their direction. He has a feeling that they are somehow, in some small way, connected to these manufactured mutants. And if they are not, then it will still narrow down the possibilities.

______________________

I took the Armour Monger and Infused Knowledge Talents and a simple Int Advance. I'm banking the last 100xp for next time.

I'm gonna go find those two people I gave tracking devices to, to see what was up with them.

Who What Now fucked around with this message at 20:01 on Jun 13, 2017

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Max Flightmaster
Munitorum Depot
"Yeah hoss can you get me some new armour. Flak Cloak, yeah one of those. Yeah I know it gets humid and hot but I'll live. Ok we got that sorted now, how about a pict recorder, some more stummers, and some sort of bike? Nah? Ok cool. More ammo as well please. Yup, double ought buck for a standard pattern shotgun. Thank you."

Now equipped with a different set of armor and more ammo to train with, Max trains hard on learning how to fire accurate snapshots on the move. Gotta be read for the squid hunt if we go check out that island.

Back at the safehouse
"This poo poo's so feth'd I have no clue where to begin. I'm gonna lay low for a bit after embarrassing those fething pigs. Grab me if you need some B&E done at night."

Leperflesh
May 17, 2007

Ignatius Malbau
The Warehouse
Port Remonstrance


After prompting a few words of advice from the more technically-adept of his fellow adepts, Ignatius had withdrawn from the group, carefully securing some semblance of biohazard control protocols in the makeshift lab at the warehouse before proceeding to make practical use of the wealth of data the cell had gathered in the last few days on their most distressingly inhuman foes. Occasionally withdrawing from the plastisheeted lab to eat and rest while various bioreactants bubbled in their petri dishes, Ignatius maintained his focus on the project with a single-mindedness the crew had rarely seen from the normally affable and approachable voidborn officer.

Eventually, biochemical experiments give way to a more industrial phase, with oversight and additional advice from various of his allies, as a collection of dubious-looking substances are carefully decanted into precisely-machined munitions. The next time the group encounters the kin to those pelagic psyker-mutants, they will be ready.

That task done, and a good night's sleep secured, Ignatius is ready to follow up on some of the still dangling leads. "I'm for a visit to the Hepaticons," he declares, "and if we're thinking to track some other suspects, well, I'm game for that as well."

OK, spending my 11 degrees of success to manufacture some anti-squidmonster munitions.

Immediate (0) Specific [squid/monkeymutants] (2) Contact(1) Gas(3) Paralytic(2) Toxic (3). Lets make vials of this stuff, and then whatever rolls (with assistance from others if possible) needed to embed them in smoke grenades.

Ignatius will accompany Aperta on the mission to track dudes, since he's just upgraded to have some stealth/following people skills. He also wants to go visit the Hepaticons, break the ice there, start developing a significant contact, and seeing what's up. He'll go alone if needed, but that might be a whole-crew mission.

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Various
Port Remonstrance Environs
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvnXeOEiHTU

The crowds have thinned slightly; the feast of St Pionius the Martyr has been and gone. However, the atmosphere of celebration remains; feast days come thick and fast at this time of year, increasing in number over the next few weeks and culminating in a day's publicly-funded revelry - polite revelry - in honour of Holy Terra itself. Most of the noble dynasties strive to outdo each other in setting forth the most appropriately pious celebrations for the population. The Black Fleet is scheduled to arrive the day after this, a happy coincidence that is not lost on the street preachers and mendicants that throng in Remonstrance. Masks are still very much in evidence.

It is mid-morning on the day after the ill-fated autopsy, and most of the cell have gotten the stench of squidmeat out of their clothing by now. Bulworth and Gamma pad the alleyways between the docklands and White Squall, making their way to Barbarigo's scrivener shop. It's less crowded and more pleasant in the shade, and a little mud or nightsoil pales in comparison to what they were wading through yesterday.

Rounding the intersection to the street on which the scrivener's shop is located, the pair are buffeted by passers-by beating a hasty exit. Barbarigo himself, nose bloodied, is hoisted by his collar against the shutters of his shop by an angrily yelling man in labourers' overalls, while another similar-looking figure prevents intercession by any potential have-a-go-heroes. Long butchery knives lie at their hips - a worker's tool, not a warrior's, but still not that pleasant to have tickling your ribs. The yelling man is fairly raucous, but is slurring and rather heavily accented; it's rather difficult to make out any actual words at this range, especially over the hubbub. Still, the general gist is that the yeller is rather frustrated that his yellee, being a man of letters and words, was not able to assist the yeller with resolving a particular legal issue. The fact that the yellee is not actually a legal professional does not seem to be gaining much traction.

----

Various, cont.
Port Remonstrance Environs
Port Remonstrance


Aperta has a slightly less salubrious trip. Following Cogitatio through the streets of Remonstrance, as the skull follows the broadcast signals hidden in the pomanders of the mutated individuals he had treated the previous day, the Tech-Priest finds himself wending through the Rookery. Passers-by withdraw in slightly shocked reverence as he emerges from narrow alleys and tattered boardwalks, allowing him passage; Ignatius trailing in his wake.

The pair find themselves in front of what is clearly a less-than-stellar dive bar. With a trickle of sewage oozing out into the waters of the Remonstrance bay, the bungalow-sized structure squats like a toad, perched on rickety planks at the end of a jetty. Battered airconditioning units groan out a constant, tattered wail. A quick scan of the auspex array - masked by a slow turn to face the spaceport, towering overhead in the middle distance - indicates that the targets are sat at the bar within, nursing plastic beakers of some unpleasant distillate or another.

----

so

fairly softball encounter with barbarigo; he's being menaced by some krillworkers. leverage the situation to your advantage as you see fit.

i was gonna be all "yeah it's hard to see what's going on you need to get closer" but both gamma and bulworth got a fair number of DoS on whatever sensory skill is appropriate so welp.

aperta + ignatius goes and shows up at a dive bar in the Rookery to find his patients. it's midmorning and they're having a drink; two days off in a row would be peculiar for a shift worker, so Perhaps They Are Petty Criminals. again, this was fairly softball, as it's just initial contact

max, shout if there's anything you want to investigate

DeathSandwich
Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.
Barry "The Bull" Bulworth

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W99hpZ9PUXU

Rumble in the Market
Back Alleyways
Port Remonstrance


The market was as hustle and bustle as it was when I was last here. I've since picked up a mask to join the festivities; a stylized replica of the warriors of Ultramar in celebration of the Lord Commander of the Imperium. A hasty pick on my part, but it did the job well enough and it kept the authorities from getting too good of a look at me. As we walk I continue my conversation with Gamma.

"So what exactly were you thinking, trying to get Max to convince those enforcers that cog justice was good enough and that they should just continue on their way? There was no way that was going to end the way you thought it was going to, unless you were hoping that them putting us in shackles would buy you guys time. Had we just shanghai-ed those guys and not stopped to talk to them, they wouldn't have me and Max's likeliness posted to all the alert pages in the Port Authority outposts."

I stop for a minute at a food hut to order some sort of grilled seaweed wrap on a stick, I break off a piece of it with my fingers and feed it up underneath the mask while we continue to approach the scrivener's shop.

-----
I knew something was wrong as we approached Barbarigo's alley. Not that anything surprised me anymore, everything we've done has seemingly gone wrong in some way or another and this was no different. I was in no mood to deal with this poo poo right now, the goons could probably be bribed to go away, but I was fresh out of compassion for them.

I no sell my approach, continuing to walk unphased, stopping about two paces short of the bouncer. I casually lift up my mask off my face and quietly appraise the two men for a couple of seconds before looking over to the man accosting Barbarigo and saying out lout to him "I like your outfit, but does it come in Men's size?" Now that I had their attention, I nonchalantly turn to Gamma and start loudly addressing her. "I don't know what it is about today, but the enforcers seem like their out in force extra hard today, I wonder what rustled their jimmies? Why, there was one just around the corner there, and these gentlemen are extra scary, who knows what they might do. If you started screaming bloody murder, how quick do you think they would be over here? 20 seconds? Less? I forget is the punishment for menacing and assault on this planet still assignment to a penal legion to serve out their term on the front lines? That sounds awfully unpleasant, I hear the Commisars like to occasionally set off a bomb collar not because someone did something bad, but just to keep the others on their toes."

----------
It's the 42 Millenium, Rowboat Girlyman is up an kicking again. Makes sense that he would be someone worth celebrating with festive masks.

Taking this opportunity to do an INTRA-PARTY INVESTIGATION against Gamma for the crime of having bad judgement. Using Inquiry: I hit a 37, which would ostensibly be 1 degree of failure given no outside bonuses, welp.

On the thugs, going to try to intimidate them with the threat of bringing down the cops to crash the party, which I'm assuming will be an int-based intimidation. Assuming +10 assist from Gamma and whatever other bonuses I can get and a free reroll from Arbites background: 26 would make it 1 degree of success upped to three by my magic cop powers.

DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 15:58 on Jun 17, 2017

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Max Flightmaster
About an hour later
Smoking lhos and going over inquisitorial reports at the safehouse got old really loving fast. He voxes the team "I'm gonna go check out this tower that Cizneros's built for the Hepaticons. I'll bring my B&E gear with me and run through the joint and see what I can find. I'll vox again when I'm in the vicinity incase I run into problems.

Grabbing his stummer off the charger and ensuring he had all his kit, he heads on out to do the job.

Solo B&E during the day, lets do it.

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
'Gamma'
Rumble in the Market
Back Alleyways
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HyHNuVaZJ-k

quote:

"So what exactly were you thinking, trying to get Max to convince those enforcers that cog justice was good enough and that they should just continue on their way? There was no way that was going to end the way you thought it was going to, unless you were hoping that them putting us in shackles would buy you guys time. Had we just shanghai-ed those guys and not stopped to talk to them, they wouldn't have me and Max's likeliness posted to all the alert pages in the Port Authority outposts."

Gamma grimaces behind her slightly frayed festival mask.

"It seemed sensible at the time. Would you risk interfering with the Mechanicus when they were bent on revenge? I suppose those men had never seen a servitor conversion in person, or they may not have been so eager to continue. My apologies for damaging your cover."

At the food stand she acquires a small bag of deep-fried krill, crunching noisily to cover her embarrassment.

-

Startled by the sudden tack Bulworth takes with the thugs, the psyker does her best to play along.

"Ah, yes. Actually I think they mentioned that they were rounding up vagrants and delinquents to make up numbers on the tithe, so anyone with a patriotic desire to serve in the Guard will be given that opportunity if they get caught."

It's not very convincing, but with Barry on point it doesn't need to be.

Inquiry should have a +30 bonus, as Gamma is already very friendly or loyal. In case it's opposed here is an untrained Deceive/Charm roll: Untrained Social Roll tn 12: 1d100 11

drat inscrutable psyker.

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Pecunious
Interstitial Alleyways - 13:30am
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6a0lltlsJSs

It's subtle, but Bulworth catches the wince behind the mask. Whether or not Gamma has some motive for pitting planetary noble interests against a beleaguered and under-staffed Mechanicus, any theories the Arbite is developing on this matter will be able to take this into consideration. The fact that the psyker appears to have had direct insight into one of the mysteries of the Tech-Priests is also of interest.

Future pondering will have to wait, though, as the pair of them are now within the circle of empty space surrounding the altercation. The dockworker who isn't currently harrassing Barbarigo flexes and postures a little, slightly puffing himself up like a globefish to appear more intimidating, but his face slowly darkens and eyes slowly start roving as Bulworth gives his speech. He may not give complete credence to everything the Arbite's saying - a simple assault-with-menaces is generally only worth a crack around the head and a night in the cells - but even a civilian will have noticed the current heightened tensions in Remonstrance, and maybe the Enforcers are more likely to do things by the book, what with current events.

Both of them have turned to face the Acolytes now; the one holding Barbarigo opens his mouth to say something, but the other tugs his arm. The surrounding crowd are slowing their retreat, and the looks being cast back at them seem to indicate that maybe the Enforcers being notified is no longer so unlikely.

"No, man, c'mon, they'll be here soon." he rumbles. Barbarigo sinks to the ground to catch his breath as the pair slope off down a neighbouring alley. The scrivener wheezes a little, and fumbles for his eyeglasses.

"I - *hackk* - thank you forb your intercession." He dabs at his nose, testing the bridge of it gingerly; his beard is streaked with streaming rivulets of blood from the break. "Embmotions were rumming a little high, and the fellows seemed unable to abcept that I simbly could not help them..." Clambering to his feet, he peers at Bulworth a little more closely.

"But you seemb to be the fellow who was askimbg around after sombone able to perform a scrivener's service, a few days ago. Was it.. Hebdrig, you'd asked? Or Daeren? I forget, but please", gesturing into the shop's interior, "I think you'be earned my services, on the house."

The Enforcers may not be in such a state of heightened vigilance as Bulworth was implying, but they're not slouching, and this is a decent enough district - they might pop by to investigate the fracas sooner rather than later. It would probably behoove the acolytes to get their information and go, as quickly as possible.

---

Incautious
Hepaticon Estate - 14:50pm
Port Remonstrance


With a sickening crack, an invisibly-weakened paving stone shatters under Max's weight. He's in a small walled rock garden, just inside the curtain wall of the Hepaticon estate, in which the tower - the source of the flare that prompted the attack on the Gilded Thorn - is situated. Getting over the wall, past the watch garrison, and staying out of the cameras; all pretty straightforward. But this slab's just gone off like a gunshot, far beyond what the stummer's normally able to muffle. It's broad daylight, too, so hiding spots are relatively few and far between.

As the stone gives way, Max thinks fast...

---

scrunt. bulworth wins the opposed intraparty roll, getting a +5 modifier to use on, well, whatever, before the next downtime. also gets 50xp

angry mans get a fairly solid failure, so they run away. i mean you can stop them if you want, but without intervention they will slope off. fairly solid subtlety test failure indicates that bulworth is recognised as the dude looking for a scrivener from the other day.

max gets an 83 on a stealth roll, which is about 3DoF; lemme know if you want to fate point reroll that, to burn the stummer's charge until you're back at the warehouse base, or to atheletics/acrobatics your way out of trouble before some guards show up. i'm going to hold off describing the scene fully until i hear on the fatepoint expenditure.

it's about a kilometre scramble across gardens and through hedges, from the point you scale the walls until you're at the door of the tower. it'll take about half an hour each way, because, well, it's not a stroll, but i am assuming you're being smart with the stummer use, and thus the entire charge will last you the narrative hour+ it will take to get to the tower and break in and get out again. this will change if you for some reason have to use considerable amounts of the stummer charge while actually at the tower.

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Fate point it please. Otherwise if that fails Max will use acrobatics/athletics to get the hell out of there

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Incautious, cont.
Hepaticon Estate - 14:50pm
Port Remonstrance


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsYeWA-BPFA

Footsteps, almost immediately. Max dives behind a large and ornate stone planter containing a local analogue to a date palm, as a pair of perspiring, flak-clad Hepaticon guards come through the archway into the walled garden.

"Sarge, look! That slab's just shattered!", exclaims the young one, gesturing with the barrel of her lascarbine. "Someone's in here!"

"Settle down, lass", from the old one. "Lady Laeitha's doing range shooting on the other side of the gallery, and you know that lot can't shoot for poo poo. Someone's clipped a roof slate, it's fallen and shattered." Not even bothering to look.

"No, Sarge, it looks-" with furrowed brow.

"Pff, don't think you'll ever make Quaestor if you can't deduct things, lass. Who'd be tresspassing? The statue exhibit's tomorrow, no-one's coming into this bit o' the gardens until then. No motive. And they'd have to get through the guardposts and then shake their escort, which we haven't heard about. No means. That's Q, erm, E, D." He seems pleased with himself.

"I... right, Sarge."

----

Once the pair of guards have resumed their perimter patrol, it's fairly straightforward to pick a path through to the central tower. The Hepaticon estate is essentially a palatial garden complex, adjacent to their inland manses; carefully curated groves, burbling streams and elegant little rock gardens provide a constant and dizzying array of pleasant vistas and cosy little nooks, and the odd hothouse silo provides a constant source of fresh flowers for noble tables. Being midsummer, most of the plants have begun to bulk out into seed and fruit; early in the year it must have been a dazzling spray of colour.

Max brushes a cluster of sweet-smelling vines out of the way as he ducks the sweep of another camera. There are few guard patrols inside the gardens, as that would clearly disrupt the enjoyment of the proprietors, but there are certainly a lot of bloody Hepaticons about. It's the middle of the day, and picnics are very much in evidence. Still, they bray enough that they're fairly easy to avoid.

Standing at the base of the tower, it honestly looks pretty decrepit. It's probably some kind of folly; despite being the central point of this part of the gardens, it's not actually got any paths leading up to it, and the bushes surrounding it seem minimally curated. The lock is tricky to pick, but that's mostly due to rust and corrosion; the door doesn't seem to have been used in some time, and actually - hmm - looks like it's been painted over while locked. Paint's peeling, too; no-one's been through this door in ages. The alarm probably doesn't work anymore, but - snip - no point in taking chances.

----

The interior of the tower is mostly mothballed, decaying furniture, with the odd pile of horticultural supplies on the lower floors. The dust lies fairly thick, and motes are plainly visible in the sunbeams coming in through cracks in the window planks. Floor after floor of the same; old chairs, mouldering parchments, plenty of the garbage that a noble dynasty might accumulate over time. Max is gagging and slightly out of breath by the time he reaches the top floor, clambering over splintered furniture, empty carry-cases and shattered plaster, where a very different sight greets him.

Unlike the previous floors, the dust in this room is disturbed by what looks like a constant shuffle of footprints. The contents of this room appear to have been mostly cast down the stairwell to the previous floor, which explains the debris that Max had to climb over. Several workbenches remain against the walls, but the centre of the floor is taken up by a large, byzantine-looking device of tarnished metal and glass; all interlocking gears, ratcheted arms and socketed hardware, glimmering in the shafts of light that seep around the boarded-up windows. Four small pedestals, each topped with a shard of what looks like faceted, blacked glass, surround a central pillar, on which a larger chunk of the same material is secured, wired into place with coils of gold. High-capacity batteries are affixed to the contraption by heavy cabling, but the readouts show zero charge.

It is all too easy to imagine what the device might look like in motion...

http://i.imgur.com/KpdIHqQ.mp4

...but there doesn't appear to be any space for a motor that might propel it.

----

fate point reroll is a much more reasonable 6; max achieves the base of the tower with minimal fuss

bare success to pick the lock, disable the alarm; bare awareness to determine that it's just a deserted tower that no-one appears to have entered in the past... well, months.

max finds a thing. whaddaya wanna do with it? you're out of range on the commbeads; the rest of the cell will only pick up scattered words

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

I wanna draw a sketch of it and then write down a detailed description of it as best as possible with pencil and paper. What does Max think it is?

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
'Gamma'
Bric-a-Brac
Office of the Scrivener Barbarigo
Port Remonstrance


Following behind the Arbiter and the Scrivener, Gamma closes and surreptitiously locks the door behind her, flipping the 'Backe ine Fivee Minutese' sign to ensure they aren't disturbed. She then does an impression of a slightly demented clockwork bird as she skitters around the shop, poking things, flipping through documents and sniffing at old candles and discarded quills. As Bulworth asks questions she covers her uncanny focus on Barbarigo beneath her festival mask and the brim of her battered and slightly stained hat.

Using Awareness, Scrutiny and Psyniscience to gather information.

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

Incautious, cont.
Hepaticon Estate - 15:20pm
Port Remonstrance


Max draws closer to the device. It seems to have been assembled in situ, and it's unclear what motive force is supposed to drive it. On inspection, the hi-cap batteries appear to be physically attached to each of the smaller pedestals. Assuming the smaller pedestals are intended to circle the central one - a fair assumption, given the finely-machine gearings and bearings - the batteries will come with. The battery cabling disappears into the pedestal housing, but if there's no motor and no computation going on, the batteries could well be dumping their charge into the glassy, black shards themselves.

Judging from the cable thickness, it must happen pretty quickly.

There's no control panel or central core, it's just a dizzyingly complicated tangle of brass and glass, with plenty of flutes and twistings that are seemingly superfluous if the only aim of the device is to spin round and round. Either someone's placed a spectacularly complex and pointless geegaw at the top of this tower while somehow failing to disturb any of the dust on the previous floors, or there's more going on here than Max can rationalise. He begins searching his multitude of pockets for a stylus...

----

you have no idea what it is; tech use, voidfaring trade, and your common lores aren't really applicable. clearly some sort of machine that whirls the outer pedestals around the larger, central one, but for what purpose you have no idea, as it's in the realm of Forbidden Lore.

+0 Scrutiny roll for the description + diagrams, please; success indicates no penalty to the rest of the cell trying to determine what it is, a good success gives an Assist bonus. failure means they're going against -10. this is presumably where the pict-recorder could have come in handy

you can scavenge material from the downstairs rooms for notes, there's ex-priceless-portraits you can scribble on the back of

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

Max Flightmaster
Scrutiny vs 40 FP: 1d100 9 4-5 DoS depending on how we calculate it? 0/2 FP remaining
Digging up a knubby looking stylus out of a cargo pocket, Max sharpens it up quickly between the serrated teeth of his powered down chainsword. Max goes downstairs and tries to find something that won't be missed to use as his canvas. Then he gets to drawing a pretty solid mockup of the thing.

Art was never Max's forte but he quickly learned to be somewhat ok at it after seeing how useful a sketchup was when it came to planning out attacks on rivals guarded stashes on certain parts of the ship. After he sketches up the room and the machine on a pretty big painting, Max takes a moment to admire what must be his best work yet. And then he sighs because he realizes things have been too easy in this tower. Time to reach out to the team for a lifeline when he gets ready to make his way out. ++Max to all. Might need some backup at the Hepaticon Estate so I can come out of here alright. Found something very interesting, some sort of baroque, archeotech, machine. How copy?++

Ok if anything goes wrong from here on out it's probably gonna lead to a firefight or at least murder so I think its best if Max deals with being out of vox communication to reach out for some help. He did let the team know where he was going and it should be logical if he starts coming up garbled on the vox, he needs help. I basically need a few people to provide some social cover/a distraction so Max can extract clean with the sketch of this machine. I'm guessing it has to do with that psychic beacon.

How long can Max likely hide out in the tower without being discovered? No stummer use, just posting up somewhere and getting comfortable.

Viva Miriya fucked around with this message at 16:20 on Jun 18, 2017

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

no hepaticons have apparently been in the tower for a very long time, so presumably you can hole up pretty much indefinitely without any nobles or nobles guards seeing. as for anyone else, well, you have no way of knowing.

waiting till nightfall will make it a +0 stealth check to get out again, plus stummer bonus; it'll be dark, and you know the terrain.

i'll include gamma's update when bulworth asks questions; don't get too cosy, there could well be an enforcer along in few minutes

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:

no hepaticons have apparently been in the tower for a very long time, so presumably you can hole up pretty much indefinitely without any nobles or nobles guards seeing. as for anyone else, well, you have no way of knowing.

waiting till nightfall will make it a +0 stealth check to get out again, plus stummer bonus; it'll be dark, and you know the terrain.

i'll include gamma's update when bulworth asks questions; don't get too cosy, there could well be an enforcer along in few minutes


Cool. Max will wait till nightfall to sneak out again then. Max will want to avoid any combat. Not that he's afraid of getting hurt but a body is going to make it glaringly obvious someone had motive to be here.

DeathSandwich
Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.
Barry "The Bull" Bulworth
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EJdEdk9g2E
Bric-a-brac
Office of the Scrivener Barbarigo
Port Remonstrance

-----
"You ought to be careful," I tell him as i hand him a cloth handkerchief for his nose. "Your friends will probably come back to finish what they started sooner or later. You may want to invest in some self defense. I know a gal over in White Squall that can get you some basics, I can set you up with her if you want."

I inspect his face, doing a once over for any more-permanent damages. "Your nose is broken, if you don't get it set it's going to look like a gnarled tree stump between your eyes for the rest of your life. Is there a sawbones you know that can set it?"

------

I set the cups of recaff out on the table and produce a hip flask full of the local top-shelf liquor that I lifted from the Deculon card game what seems like ages ago by this point. I pour a thumb of it into all three foam cups and offer one to Barbarigo, and set one aside for Gamma when she's done poking around. "This will take the edge off the pain." I tell him after I take a draw from my own cup, "You seem like a busy man, I'm not going to take much of your time. I wanted to give you this." I slide him the dog-eared photo of him and Cizneros before continuing. "I don't know if you heard, but she died about 3 or 4 days back. I've been contracted to figure out the who and why, and I hoped you'd be able to give me some information...." I give him a moment to process the information before I continue.

"Did Cizneros ever talk to you, about her employers? Did she mention anything that seemed unusual about them or the jobs themself?"

----------
Doing a deep cut, the hip flask is filled from the liquor that I used to fashon the makeshift firebombs that never got used during our escape from the bar riot. I figure after the escape my character kept it stashed away somewhere for the occasional pull.

As far as questioning him, I'm not coming out and saying "I'm Inquisition, yo", I'm framing my role like a mundane Private Investigator.

I'm prioritizing my questions as follows, in order of importance or until the Port Authority shows up to check on him:

-Did Cizneros mention anything unusual about her work, her employers, or specific buildings she's worked on
-Did Cizneros have any enemies that would potentially wish her harm, clients that felt cheated or whatnot?
-Did Cizneros ever tell you about what she was currently or most recently working on?
-Did she have anyone else that she was close to that would be willing to talk to me outside of the Noble Houses?

...at which point I'll dismiss myself with a "If I find out anything or have more questions, I'll let you know. It's for the best if you don't tell anyone else about this, ongoing investigation and all.", put my mask back on, and wander out the back door if it's an option. I'm specifically holding back on asking him about "Omphalos" because my sense is that this guy probably doesn't know anything about it and if someone picks him up after the fact I don't want him blabbing it or that I asked him about it.

Inquiry check is a 34, which if given an assist from Gamma and no other outside modifiers would be 1 degree of success, 4 if he's being given the +30 friendly modifier

DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 03:11 on Jun 19, 2017

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSOaRBs7gyU
Max Flightmaster
Scrutiny vs 40 FP: 1d100 9 4-5 DoS depending on how we calculate it? 2/4 FP remaining
"Max Flightmaster to anyone listening out there. Task complete. Extracting at nightfall. Request your presence in area of Hepaticon Estate just incase things go south on the way out. How copy?" Max keeps voxing that message every couple of minutes, whispered as loud as he dares, as he makes his way up to the top of the tower, looking for a vantage point where he can see anyone approaching it. He tries to find out if there's an outlet anywhere nearby he can charge the stummer while he waits, and sets up a simple but crude early warning system. Just some object moved so that it'll make noise if someone opens a door or something they can trip over near the ground flood. The place is so quiet the sound will carry all the way up to him. He finds a place he can sit down with his back to the wall and his shotgun cradled in his arms, the barrel aimed at chest/neck level should anyone come in after him.

And now he waits. No one's got any reason to come up here but he can't relax fully. Some rear end in a top hat can always wander in or get told to retrieve something here.

Viva Miriya fucked around with this message at 23:47 on Jun 19, 2017

Inexplicable Humblebrag
Sep 20, 2003

you can trickle-charge the stummer on the remains of the batteries. what floor are you on? Very top with the machine?

Viva Miriya
Jan 9, 2007

DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:

you can trickle-charge the stummer on the remains of the batteries. what floor are you on? Very top with the machine?

If the machine is at the very top then probably not there. One or two floor downs with a view overlooking the approach to the tower. If I need to recharge the stummer by leaving it in the room with the machine to leach off those batteries then I'd probably leave the stummer in that room to charge while i'm hold up elsewhere.

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Who What Now
Sep 10, 2006

by Azathoth
Aperta Ignavus
Port Remonstrance
Rookery - Nameless Bar


Aperta scans the building in front of him. It would surprise nobody that the priest is not very familiar with patronizing drinking establishments, but even he knows that they carry some absurd, humorous, or bawdy sign to advertise their presence. Even the small bolt holes the menials of his homeship would go to after their 16 hour shifts would have something scrawled over the bulkhead doors. This one, however, has nothing. Aperta passes this off as a quirk of the planet, and brazenly walks inside, taking a direct route to the man and woman he is after.

"Blessings of the Omnissiah upon you, citizens." He says, vox crackling like a thunderblast in the nearly silent bar. "I have returned to you as promised. May I speak to you?"

________________

I dunno if you want any kind of roll just yet, but Aperta is bad at the whole "interacting with Normies" thing so he's just being a goony gently caress right now.

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