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[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)


Mazer Rackham

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Stitches

 

Explosions. Lacerations. Burns. Shrapnel to remove. Shock. All thinks he was treated and... as he reflected whilst untangling himself from the psyjer who had broken his fall, all things he was glad to be free from in this moment in time.

Stitches yanks on the proffered suit. Keep your medic alive, rule 362 subsection f7 and sub- clause six. It was his favourite that one.

That said, in the guard a diagnosis of radiation poisoning was less something to be treated and more grounds to assume the patients reassignment to a forlorn hope unit.

He plunges into the cloister as the psyker motiens at him.

Aye, time to go.

Feth, he hadn't even had the chance to snag some med-supplies.

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If anyone wants to rewind and turn a few valves, as Falk/AT suggests, you certainly can, just work it as a flashback somewhere.

The Drainpipe:

The tunnel is black, save for the lumen glow of your equipment. Radcounters, barely illuminated, become small pips of light in the distance, glow-flies flitting through a dark passage, tracer rounds zipping through the night, the candles of an overcast vigil.

No matter the memories, you are alone with them in the fall. Your bodies ride the steep angle of the pipe, where who knows how many half-corpses have before, the sound of your bodies churning the usually turgid air of humid pipes. The frictionless pipe keeps you going, and reduces the heat build-up in your clothes, but even so, the pipe is replete with heat. The claustrophobic sting of the close darkness doesn't help. It's stifling, even for the hive-born.

For long minutes the journey continues, threatening you with loss of sanity or consciousness. It stretches out into an hour, but past that, as you twist and turn, time has absolutely no meaning.

Suddenly, there is light. Leeching up from below is a sickly, neon hue. It approaches with appalling speed, getting brighter, and brighter still, until your eyes, so suffused with shadow are squeezed tight against the torch that seems to burn at your feet.

One by one, the horrid metal canal births you into a massive chamber, a broad cistern of massive scale. You can admire the scope and visceral grandeur of it, as your radcounters go insane with clicks and warbles the rushing noise of a hundred sluices just like this decant into the pit below you. It would be beautiful, if a little psychedelic, if you were not hurtling foot-first into a radioactive sump.

The surface is constantly being churned by the new overflow, splashing great rushes of glowing slop up the walls, yet the tidemarks do not rise high, this then must be a processing pit, and below the deadly waves of regurgitated nuclear vomit, only the immortality of a fission-decay half-life.

There is but one hope.

The sluices are all fixed into place by sturdy gantries and rigging - a testament to the power and building of the Mechanicum of ancient days. Around this rigging are inspection gantries, 8 metres below the pipe mouth, and whilst corroded in some places, they are fairly sturdy as they bracket the outlets.

This then, will be your salvation, if you can make it.

Gentlemen, please make a Challenging (+0) Agility test.

 

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Reynard:

 

Spoiler

Ag Test, Ag45, Roll: 94! Spend the last FP of this session to reroll: 16, 2DoS. :eek::sweat:

 

As they travelled through the tunnel, Reynard found himself remembering the early days of his youth. In Cal Ferrina's slums, this kind of journey had been made for fun, a thrilling high speed drop into the black. 'Riding the pipes', they'd unimaginatively called it, racing one another to descend to the lower levels.

Of course, that didn't make this ride a pleasant experience. Back then the conduits had been totally rad-free, plus the riders had known every twist and turn of the system… and which pipes led only into injury or death and had to be avoided. Here, Reynard had no idea. He had no choice but to let himself be carried into the depths, desperately looking out for any way to escape from the tunnel.

As the light grew in front of him, something - a Hiver's instinctive sense of space - told him that the pipe was ending and there was a large void of some sort below them.

Reynard shot out of the tube, flying out into the air. He saw the terrifying radioactive sea, saw the gantry and reached for it, quick hands stretching out to catch himself against a stanchion. One plastic glove slipped and he felt a moment's sheer panic, but then he managed to get a grip with his other hand, altering his body's momentum just enough to swing his legs in and jam them against a support. With a muttered curse of relief, he levered himself up and onto the gantry, where he took a deep breath of stale, suit recycled air and collapsed against the metal floor grating. Through the mesh he could see the poisonous, glowing waves rolling.

The others following behind him!

Quickly, he yelled into his microbead, warning the team about the end of the pipe, the drop and where the gantry was positioned so they could aim for it. Then he shuffled himself as far away from the outflow as he could, trying to give the others as much room to land as he could.

 

Spoiler

OOC: If it's not obvious, by warning them I'm trying to provide some assistance to those with lower Ag?

 

Edited by Lysimachus
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Falk:

Falk had no context for this escape, no training that offered insight on what awaited them. Unsure if the rest were even with him still he locked Reynard in his sights and counted off the seconds - little use without knowing their speed but a needed distraction from the all consuming darkness and incessant warning of the suits primitive salvation auger.

Light came suddenly and Reynard appeared in stark silhouette for a brief moment before falling away from view. Instinctively Falk scrambled to gather his feet beneath him to leap over the unseen danger only to find himself in freefall, striking the gantry above Reynard more through luck than judgement.

He could hear the warning go out on the comm bead but knew there would be little chance for the rest to process the information. "Jump", he called into the vox, "when you see the light jump!"

Roll 31 vs target 32 - just barely a pass

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Kerr Restal:

 

 

AGL 30 + 0 (Challenging) + 20 (Reynard & Falk Assists) = 30. Result: 56, Fail 0DoF. 3 Wounds.

 

 

Kerr Restal floated / swam in the headlong rush of the thrill ride going down. A kaleidoscopic mystery ride down the plug hole. The hateful G's.

Snippets of advice shouted across the Vox - "Jump at the light" Gantry?

 

The mysterious voices called to him from afar, like pair of promises. A child of the Warp, Kerr Restal's zeitgeist might make the gantry.

 

Hit.  Kerr Restal jumped like a boned fish, nearly smashing through the gantry he landed in a winded heap.

 

 

Edited by Machine God
Removed Pain.
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I'm going to do Scourge now so he can drop in at the appropriate time.

The Penitent drifts in and out of consciousness, light and dark just backgrounds to memory and the half-remembered effort to breathe. He does not know how he came to be smocked in these swaddling, smothering robes, and the irritating tick of a...machine...somewhere next to his heart.

Perhaps he is dead, hurtling through the bowels of hell, after choking down the death-mist.

Then, light.

Yet he is going the wrong way, should not the Emperor's presence be uplifting? What was this new damnation? Then falling freely. He reflexively looked over his shoulders, not borne aloft by angel's graces, he tumbles.

AG Test: + 20 = PASS.

His fatigued body thuds down, his floppiness akin to a new-born, protecting his body from the eight-metre drop, and plopping down, the gantry as safe a cradle as any.

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Reynard:

Just the tech-adept and the psyker to come. But even before Scourge had slumped down, Reynard was up and moving away. Firstly, he didn't want to put the weight of too many people on one short section of the gantry. Secondly, if this was an inspection point, then there must be a means of ingress and egress to the sump somewhere nearby. He waved to the Arbitrator, who was also already on his feet.

"Falk, help me look for a way out of here!"


 

Edited by Lysimachus
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The Cistern:

Now you have a moment, you can appreciate the size of the room, and despite the depth of it, it is in complete contrast to the previous gloomy shroud of the Cloister. The bile-green neon glow illuminates much, underlighting the angular shapes of the gargoyles above, whose mouths grip the sluice drains as they sprout from the walls. Even in this place, where most likely few would see, there is artifice. The builders of Damocles were proud of their work.

The cistern is huge, perhaps a whole kilometre square, and the gantries are an open maze running away into the distance, criss-crossing the open space, with the occasional girder propping the catwalks up, keeping them out of the slop. Several lengths have eroded and fallen over time, and the caution expressed privately or loudly over their sturdiness seems well founded.

The rushing tumult of near constant drains (some more than others), lends an odd, asymmetric waterfall noise that drowns some words out, requiring raised voices - even over the commbeads. There are six doors set into a symmetric pattern in the walls, sturdy bulkheads found in the pressure corridors of any hive, oval, water-tight. They are marked by armoured lumen bulbs, each burning bright red. There is however something odd. You notice a set of marks on the railing near the sluice you have just been spat from. It is perhaps some kind of gang, or mechanicum sign.

<:HQ:>:Fort:^:Fort:^:HQ:v:DTran:v:HQ:

Negotiating the room is going to be the main challenge here, bar the time spent. I will call for one Toughness Test only, as radiation is bult up over time, hanging like a sword of...well. I'm sure you know. :pinch:

Edited by Mazer Rackham
Clarity
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Reynard:

 

Spoiler

Radiation Test: T24 +20(Full Suit) +10(Rad Pills) = 54, Roll: 49, Pass with 0DoS.

 

Reynard rolled his shoulders uncomfortably at the slick heat inside his pressure suit. Still, he was very glad of its protection. Following Falk's advice he walked along the gantry until he reached a junction. Looking out across the sump and the crisscrossing walkways, he counted the six portals. Which way was out?

Then he noticed the markings made on the railing in front of him. Six symbols… so perhaps each one represented one of the six doors? What did the arrows beside each icon represent? Directions maybe? From his position at the railing, there was one door to either side, two doors ahead, and two on the wall behind them, so the arrows might correspond?

Was this therefore a simple map explaining a route to safety? That seemed… reasonable? Given the symmetry of the huge chamber, it was altogether possible that visitors might become turned around and lose their way. But how to decipher the icons' meaning?

Skulls almost certainly implied death or danger - places even worse than this radioactive hole? - so perhaps the castles showed portals that were secure or led to safety? He wasn't sure about the arrow and skull combination… Even greater danger…? Or could it be the quickest way to leave danger behind?

If his interpretation of the icons and arrows was correct, that meant they should either make for the left-hand door on the opposite wall or the one to their right? Unless the arrow and skull meant an escape route, in which case they should go to the portal immediately behind them to their left…?

 

Spoiler

OOC: Scribbled pic to explain what Reynard is thinking the code might mean…

large.20220928_145610.jpg.7590dc3d4f3a2d

 


 

Edited by Lysimachus
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Tro has been kind enough to give me some rolls to help move us on, so he's playing, but long distance! :)

The Cistern:

The scrape of metal against metal signifies Bardas is coming through the sluice. His mis-matched radsuit and clothing hurtles through the gap, a clang tells of his attempt to heed the warning, but as he catapults forward, he slams into the guard rail, breaking through it. He clutches around it, desperately clinging for dear life as it wrenches out in a rusted squeal, pivoting to hang over the nuclear sludge.

(Tro rolled an 89 first, :eek: and 32 second, :sweat: so I'm using it as an FP re-roll).

The rail swings so hard he is wheeled, slipping all the while, to slam back into the rails facing the team.

His radcounter goes wild as he is perilously exposed.

(Toughness Test: Tro rolled 97, and 02 which I will use as FP again).

He scrabbles at the rail, still poised over the sludge pit, and on the wrong side of the gantry.

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Falk:

Falk waited until the last of the group had emerged from the tunnels, reaching out to grab onto Bardas. In part it was practicality as the tech-priest was the one most likely to be able to navigate around such a place, and it part a desire to not repeat recent mistakes.

"Move in pairs", he indicated, "and watch above, our path would not be difficult to follow for any with knowledge of this system"

Toughness test: 36 vs toughness 30 +10/20 (Falk had just grabbed the closest suit after pushing them all through the door IIRC)  - pass

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Nicios

Looking around at the cistern, Nicios moves to Scourge's side to assist him if needed. Falk's words are smart, and they would need all the help they could get to leave this place and continue their mission.

Spoiler

Toughness test- 46 (26 + 10 rad pill + 10 partial suit)

Roll- 43

Result: Pass, barely...

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Cistern:

Scourge peers up through the slitted helm as Nicios hefts him up. Finding his feet, he offers the Witch hunter a nod of gratitude.

Toughness Test: PASS.

"Cometh from humility, strength, and wisdom doth provide His fortitude."

He straps on his shield, taking position on your off-side. 

As you cautiously spread out, you can see tiny scratches on each of the bulkhead doors, corresponding to the direction and design of the strange glyphs. Closer inspection proves they are not cut in with a knife or bladed tool, but with something much neater. An electropencil. (Use Lysi's map for reference).

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Kerr Restal:

Tarrant grasps hold of the gantry his void-born constitution shrugs off the rads.

 

 

TGH 29 +10 (Partial Suit) +10 (Rad Pill) = 49. Result: 17, Pass 2DoS

 

Edited by Machine God
Removed Pain
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Reynard:

Reynard frowned at Falk's words. Surely not? The enemy hadn't been equipped any better than they had for a rad-heavy environment, probably even worse. You'd have to be a madman or a fanatic to follow them down the sluice?

Still… they had just gassed and blown the :cuss: out of a bunch of innocent healers and civs… so maybe a certain amount of caution was warranted after all?

He moved right to examine the closer of the two doors marked with a castle, carefully looking for any other markings, working access controls, and along the edges of the seals and joins for signs that might indicate wear, corrosion or - hopefully - regular use.

 

Spoiler

OOC: Does anyone have any other thoughts about what the symbols on each door mean, or which might lead us to safety; skulls, castles or the arrow?

 


 

Edited by Lysimachus
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‘I should have tried to run away from the Lawman, it could hardly have gone worse than the last day has proven’ Bardas had time to think with one part of his mind as another was autonomously and reflexively guiding his arms, hands and legs to try and first grab the railing and then stay on the platform. It was a close thing but somehow he had managed to avoid another plunge into the depths.

Staggering to his feet he righted himself and took stock of his situation. His garments would dry out quickly enough, but the remains of the radsuit was a different matter. Sodden and heavy they were an encumbrance that he would rather be without, but what little protection against the envioment they offered he would need to keep for now. Lifting his left leg up he let the radsuit boot drain from a tear part way up the lower sit leg, no point lugging extra water around.

 

While the symbols on the doors where not familiar to him Bardas meditated for a moment to go through his deep memories, trying to discover if they were part of some Omnissian script or dialect variant.

Spoiler

Common Lore (Machine Cult) Test
Int:34
D100: 88, Fail, 5 DoF (
lol)   

           

Edited by Trokair
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Cistern:

Upon closer inspection of the door marked with :Fort:, you can see that it is corroded shut, the buttressing lock is fixed in place as well, either by further corrosion or by welding is uncertain, but the opening ratchet does not move at your urgings.

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Reynard:

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Reynard's gloved fingers rapped against the door and then traced their way down the seals and joins. Completely rusted solid. No way this portal was getting opened without bringing in some heavy cutting equipment. It seemed it had been that way for quite some time.

He hissed irritably. The castle icon had not referred to a place of safety, but rather an impenetrable defence. 'Locked', to put it simply. Obvious, really. That left the skulls - but surely he had been right to assume that these icons represented death or danger? - and the arrow. The latter had to mean an escape route? He said as much into the team vox, explaining what he had seen.

+++I think our best bet is to try the door marked with the arrow. Anyone got any better ideas?+++


 

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Falk:

The symbol of the fortress did not perhaps signify safety but rather security, a place not to be easily entered.

Joining Reynard once more, "we are well armed and likely safer beyond this seal that we would be exposed to fire here should those who attacked the cloister track our movements from the surface. Open the door."

Turning to the others, "weapons check".

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