[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Spoiler

Righto, boss!

 

Deceive Test:
Fel45 +10(Deceive+10) +10(Peer:Underworld) = 65, Roll: 99, Fail!
Well, going to use a FP, obvs… 
Reroll: 24, Success with 4DoS.

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

Drexler looks at you, and makes a face.

Spoiler

You know, the one an ex-wife would make if you were late to pick up the kids, and lied your arse off about it because you were playing on the Ex-Cogbox with the lads, and how she knows, utterly knows, you're  lying, but some small part of her wants to believe you, if for no other reason that she knows she'll never get to the bottom of it, and if she calls you on it, it's just going to be a staggering tower of nonsense, until neither of you know what's real anymore.

 

Reynard wins by 1 DoS.

 

She sighs, waving a dismissive hand at you. "A shame. I knew there was a client for it - at least before I lost touch with my contacts. I didn't know it was Prince Lexandro, though. It would likely have been a juicy barter which would get me off this bloody rock."

 

The call from the commbead becomes more insistent. "X-ray, Brutus. Last call, copy?"

 

"Should I answer it?" Seb asks.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"From what I saw of 'Lexandro', it's probably not worth the trouble it would bring? And surely you've already got enough funds to get off Damocles?"

 

He smiled, suddenly speaking without thinking.

 

"If any of us survive the next few days, I was thinking about finding myself a ship. Maybe we could go together?"

 

At that moment the commbead twitched again. Somewhat glad to be interrupted, Reynard looked at it, waited for a long, silent moment.

 

"Now. Answer it. Tell him you need to talk to Greyson."

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

Her face takes on a strange light, a faraway look in her eyes. "I'm sick of tunnels. Or iron coffins hurtling through space."

 

She sighs. "I'd like to see trees."

 

Seb picks up the commbead. "X-ray here. I've found something. Put Dragoon on the line."

 

A few moments, and it clicks through. Seb puts it on external vox.

 

+I'm here,+ Greyson's replies. His voice, still distorted, is perfectly recognisable. +What have you got?+

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Where to begin... "Your sister is dead, your exile ended if you wish it. But the thing that whispered to her from the shadows now rises to tear this hive down and I would ask your aid in facing it."

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Lucian Greyson. Last survivor of the Brimlock Grenadiers. An Imperial Stormtrooper! Honoured by the Black Templars themselves. By all accounts an Emperor-fearing man. And yet you work for Chaos-corrupted heretics, and you're only the last of the Grenadiers because you or your friends murdered what was left of your comrades. Not to mention all the other innocent people you've killed over the last few days. You're an interesting man, Mr Greyson."

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Falk:

 

"I sensed you, in peril. I sought to provide light, but the darkness was strong. The Tower of Echoes our reward from He on Terra. Yet I sense great trials ahead. Take me to the Holy Man, that our light may grow to banish the shadows."

 

Reynard:

 

Greyson chuckles. +I'd be more worried about your future than my history. Let's talk about that, shall we? I know your voice, Mr Reynard. You've caused me quite a lot of inconvenience - which could have been avoided, I might add, if you'd just handed over Dreyfuss when you had the chance.+

Edited April 11, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"We never had him, Mr Greyson. Dead days before we arrived at the Sanctum. We might have told you so, but gassing and then putting bolt rounds through the heads of civilian medical volunteers made us think you weren't actually ever really interested in talking? Maybe that's why you were working for Kraevus and Helene Aldario in the first place? Do you share their corruption, their taste for innocent blood? I suppose that could explain why you are persisting in this foolishness."

 

Reynard paused, considering.

 

"Or are you still hoping to get paid? That would be even greater foolishness. Mr Greyson, surely by now you are aware that your original principals lied to you about what is happening on Damocles and who we are? Both of them are gone, declared Diabolis Extremis and Excommunicato Hereticus and already dispatched to face the justice of the Emperor himself. Or maybe have you found an alternate employer? Lexandro of House DeGrassi, perhaps? Believe me when I say that he will soon face similar judgement. Either way, payday is not coming."

 

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperated weariness.

 

"If you would prefer to talk about the future, my advice to you and to any of your men who are listening - assuming you have not already become deliberate and willing pawns of the Ruinous Powers - would be to turn yourselves in to the authorities. You know what is happening across the Hive. Unrest, uprisings… Chaos. With a capital 'C'. The Arbitrators might accept the assistance of the Canthus mercenaries in re-establishing the Pax Imperium. Such acts, befitting heartfelt repentance over your crimes, might go some way to commute your own eventual sentences?"

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

+Throne, do the Priests know you're doing commercials? I damn near crossed myself and took up the cloth.+ Greyson laughs. +Next you'll be encouraging me to do my Tax Returns. I didn't expect to hear upper-hive toff out of you, Mr Reynard. What I'd learned leaned to quite the opposite, and I was just beginning to like you.+

 

He clucks his tongue.

 

+You're guessing, Mr Reynard, and the Emperor loves a trier, I'll grant you. Trust me, if I'd known Dreyfuss was dead at the time, I'd maybe have shaken your hand. If your man had answered me in the first instance, none of this would have happened. You're causing it all - you're the zip, and we're the teeth, closing up the gap behind you - but it's you doing the pulling. It's not about the money, Mr Reynard, and never was. We were threatened, the way I'm now threatening you. If sanctimony is your only coin, your credit isn't any good.+

 

+Nobody here has a monopoly on virtue.+ Greyson sniffs, his voice taking on a level, open tone. +Everyone I killed got a choice. Help me, or help you. They chose badly.+

 

He sighs. +Sebastian? Take a good, long look at Mr Reynard. Help me...or help him. Choose well, son.+

 

A pause.

 

+Oh, and you better keep this line open. If it cuts out - even if it isn't your fault - so does your old man.+

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

"The journey will be short but may not be easy, if you have more protective atire I would advise its use." Remembering Kraevus' final words Falk sorted through his pockets for the mans locket and handed it to Gwynne, "Kraevus spoke of you at the end, his remose does not absolve his acts but I believe it genuine".

 

He stood back to weigh the best route to the designated safe zone, risking the open streets on one side or Helenes charnal house and whatever attention Reynard has managed to bring upon himself on the other. Neither appealing.

 

Memories of their first time here raised a fresh question, "Lady Gwynne, you spoke of your sister Magda when we were here first. It is clear that Dreyfuss sought her crypt yet her involvement in all of this remains clouded."

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Before Seb could stop him, Reynard took the commbead and held it up to his mouth, speaking softly.

 

"You're quite right about the things you've heard about me, Mr Greyson. I'm no priest. I'm not a nice man at all. I lie, I cheat, I steal, I kill. I don't much care about the laws of Governors or Arbites. But there are some crimes I won't commit, lines that even I won't cross. Consorting with Xenos. The touch of Chaos. I'll fight against things like those to my last breath. If you won't believe anything else I say, that at least might tell you something about the monsters you've thrown your lot in with."

 

As Reynard was saying these words, he realised he actually believed them. That was a surprise.

 

"In truth, though, I'm relieved. I didn't really want to, but I thought my master would probably want the offer to be made, just in case you were nothing but a poor, stupid foot-slogger gulled by the lies of others. But stupid or not, it seems you aren't any different from any of the other traitors plaguing this Hive; whether selfish or insane or willfully blind… you're guilty. You have made yourself into an enemy of this world and of Mankind itself. You deserve everything that's coming to you, and any of your colleagues or family who are stupid enough to stay with you will suffer it alongside you."

 

"And it is coming, be sure of that."

 

With that, Reynard dropped the commbead on the deck and smashed his boot smartly down into it. The earpiece was crushed into a hundred tiny fragments. He raised his foot and brought it down again, just to make sure, then grimly looked over at the horrified Seb.

 

"Sorry kid, I had to call that bluff. I don't think he'll do it yet anyway, but whatever he chooses to do, we can't have them watching our every move. There's too much at stake."

 

 

Edited April 11, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Falk:

 

"Apart from some travelling clothes, I have only my faith, and that weighs lightly upon my shoulders." Gwynne gracefully rises from the kneeler in front of the shrine. "I do not know why he would seek her, although she was the first of us, and the best."

 

"Primus inter pares, I believe is the appropriate term."

 

She takes her staff in both hands, gently pressing it around her, tapping only three points to orientate herself. She walks out past you, towards the main library, where her attendants are already waiting. They step around her, taking her Magister's robe and swapping it for a lightweight mesh cloak. The armour is obvious to a trained eye, but it reeks of the quality to be found uphive. A hardy leather satchel is quickly packed with supplies and placed around her.

 

"I am ready."

 

Reynard:

 

Seb just looks at you, before turning away, rubbing his hair.

 

Drexler exchanges glances with you. "Now what?"

 

The door resounds with a thunderous bang.

 

"Ah, time to leave. Florence, open the tubes up."

 

The little servo-skull rockets across the room in a gravitic pulse, manipulators clinking until it gets to the mechanical controls. There's a sudden shunt, and the draught from the comms tubes increases significantly. She pushes the covers up to expose the gaping holes in the floor, very similar to the one at the back of Dreyfuss' lab.

 

She ushers Alyce forwards. "Little one, you have to go. It's going to be dark and cold, so you have to be brave, alright? Florence will go with you, hold onto her - Flo, maximum illumination, set your distress pulser." There's a chirp and the servo-skull's eyes brighten considerably, whilst the skull grips onto Alyce's shoulders.

 

Drexler turns back to the girl. "Just step in when I say, keep your arms crossed. Reynard and Seb will be right behind you."

 

With that, she shoves ruined books sideways, and pulls back the carpet to reveal a handle that sits flush into one of the floor panels. She yanks it up with a wrench, to reveal the detonation cogitator to an extremely large device. Cabling and wires splay out from it, disappearing further under the panels you're standing on, suggesting it is linked to many other charges. Her long, slender fingers dance over the keypad, and a string of amber lights flash into constant brightness. She grips a large switch cover.

 

A bright spot begins to form at each corner of the door.

 

"I'm not waiting for your friends." She points at the door, flips the cover. She hesitates a heartbeat before slapping the button underneath. "We've got three minutes."

 

"Take the girl, Seb, and keep Florence close. If you need anything, Flo will carry your message. Don't stamp on her."

 

Drexler braces herself over the gap Bentley vanished down earlier, grabs the handle fixed to inner side of the cover. "If there's anything else, ask now, because I've decided you're quite unhealthy to be around."

Edited April 12, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Ha, I knew you'd have a way out planned and ready to go! Amazing!"

 

Reynard grinned, again absurdly pleased by her canniness. Then, as he hustled across to the chute, he suddenly snapped his fingers, remembering something.

 

"Yes! Julo Karthago! I've got a job for him, he said you'd know where to find him? Also…"

 

He paused for a moment, and then shrugged.

 

Ah, why the hell not?

 

Giving her a direct, level look, he asked a second question.

 

"… I'd still like to know your name, my Lady."

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Drexler's Lair:

 

Drexler smiles, and gently shakes her head. "Flowers first, Reynard. I'll tell Julo you need him. Go somewhere you trust, take Flo. I'll do the rest."

 

She tucks her long, braided rope of oil-black hair into her jacket to prevent it snagging and breaking her neck, pushes up and off the rail, crosses her arms and plummets, the blast shield dropping over her.

 

GM Direction: Feel free to narrate your drop etc - but the tube you go down will eventually spit you out somewhere near the Hidden Librarium (where the rest of the party is) feel free to have this in at the end. You can describe the explosion as well, per Reynard's experience. Florence speaks binharic only, or a strange mix of pidgin-machine cant (blurts, chirps, bloops), so unless you've got Techna Lingua, you won't understand it.

 

Seb isn't talking to you. To put it mildly.

 

You'll emerge in a shallow drainage sump, (stagnant water) with a short tunnel crawl to a duct grating which the party will just happen by...Further, because the stagnant water pongs a bit, you will smell faintly of manky old trousers and rancid oil for 1D10 Hours, which will incur a -10 penalty to ALL Interaction Tests.

 

As the party sallies forth, there will be significant enough noise to warn of someone or something bearing down on you. Act as your preference. 

Edited April 12, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

"Alright then", pulling out his cartograph he inspected the reports uploaded from the most recent visit up-hive, disturbingly large red threat markers across many areas likely now dangerously outdated.

 

Indicating the map to the others, "Arbites are on standby at these locations, reaching any should be sufficient for our needs but anything short of the secure marker here" tapping the screen, "has few guarantees. We are on foot all the way with no lifts of other mechanical conveyance. Nicios stay at Lady Gwynnes side at all times, I have point, Scourge has flank".

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

The penitent warrior nodded his helm at Falk and intoned, "By thy will, so shall it be."

 

He clasped his gauntleted right hand in a fist and stifly bowed before the blind psyker, his ramshackle armour creaking and slightly impeding his motion. He regarded the seeress through his slitted helm, wondering at her cruel gift and what terrible burdens she bore in the name of the God-Emperor. 

 

"Lady Gwynne, my life ist forfeit whilst thine ist in my charge. I will be thy shield."

[Mazer Rackham]

The Hidden Librarium:

 

Gwynne turns to Falk. "I put myself into your trust, Caleb, and welcome the company of Jericus."

 

She finally takes Kraevus' betrothal ring. "My thanks, Magistrate. I sense such atrocity, such sorrow in this small thing. I know he regretted his mistakes. You bring me peace with the bitterness of loss. Such is our burden."

 

As Scourge pledges his fealty to Gwynne's life, she blindly turns to face him, offering a shallow curtsey, as appropriate. "I have not done that since I was but a maiden at court," she replies with a gentle smile. "Yet tell me, Knight, why do you hide your name from me?"

 

Her slim, delicate hand reaches out to Scourge, and far from being feeble or smooth, you can sense the hard skin of work, the wiry strength of her frame. Her hand finds your faceplate. "...and you shall set your face hard as flint. Fear not. I have seen our Master, and he knows his own. An Angel awaits you at the foot of his throne, never having truly loved another."

 

Her voice is different, but as she withdraws her hand, her normal timbre returns, even as she gasps from the effort of scyring the veil. She stiffens.

 

"Someone approaches..." she says, confused.

Edited April 12, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard pushed the youngsters ahead of him, urging them to move.

 

"Go, go."

 

Once they were gone, he didn't take his own advice immediately, perching on the edge of the chute just as Drexler had done. As the counter of her detonator dropped, the heat spots at the corners of the door grew. What were they using to cause that kind of damage…? He wanted to see who was coming in.

 

A glance back at the counter. No. Not enough time.

 

He pushed off and hurtled down through the darkness, counting off the remaining seconds in his head as he went. Even without seeing it with his own eyes, Reynard was fairly confident of who was out there.

 

A big spider.

 

He hoped, if he was right, that De Grassi made it through the door before the bomb went off. He could just picture it. The Spyrer stalking through into the study, as full of himself as always. Then realising that his quarry had vanished again. A moment of confusion and dismay. Seeing the explosives and the timer marking off the final few seconds. No time at all.

 

Reynard had already dropped several hundred metres, but he still felt the sudden heat and the tube around him juddering violently as a massive blast immolated Drexler's den.

 

Suddenly the chute began to level out, slowing his descent. Reynard heard yells and splashes ahead of him, and braced himself for impact. He shot out of the pipe, skidding across the surface of a shallow sump.

 

Spoiler

1d10 Hours: 3

 

 

The oily liquid splashed up against him, but his long coat protected him from a proper soaking. He clambered out of the sump and hurried the children along the pipe that was the only exit, ignoring black looks from Seb as they went.

 

As they reached the end of the duct, Reynard heard the sound of someone moving past. Not likely to be anyone they wanted to meet, not down here. He hushed Seb and Alyce and crept forward to take a peek out.

 

 

Edited April 12, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal and Bardas:

 

+10-1+

 

Hopefully the short ten code got through the rads.

 

"Well Bardas, we've got ten minutes before company arrives to this wreck. If we hustle we could make the junction in that time, then we can go for the strongbox of Locke."

 

He bowed showing cog sign to the Cogitator, then he and Bardas left at a hurried safe pace back to the junction.

 

"Trust in Cephas and the Gun-Cutter!"

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

With Gwynne's words, Nicios whipped out his pistol and steadied his mind.

Spoiler

 

Manifest Psychic Power (Resist Possession)

Threshold - 6

Roll - 5(WPB) + 2 = 7

Result = Pass, can re-roll the Test to resist Possession by a daemon in the next hour.

 

"Stay back Lady Gwynne. If someone is coming, we will deal with them."

 

Nicios sent out his mind, trying to find what had startled the other pysker.

Spoiler

 

Manifest Pyschic Power (Sense Presence)

Threshold - 7

Roll - 5(WPB) + 7 = 12

Overbleed x 1 (5 over threshold) - add 10m to range

Result - Sense presence of living creatures within 60m, walls 1m thick block power. No Psychic Phenomenon occur (no 9s rolled).

 

 

Edited April 12, 2023 by Lord_Ikka

[Mazer Rackham]

Nicios ONLY:

Spoiler

A furtive mind fleeing danger, a younger one doped with anger, one in both wonder and worry, younger even than the last. All are familiar as an old coat. One is not. It is a machine, but whilst you cannot 'detect' it as such, you can sense a latency within. Names spring to mind.

 

Fox.

Cross. Literally.

Dolly.

Florescent?

 

[A.T.]

Falk

 

Tracing the path of Nicios gaze as he stared at the walls Falk adjusted his position and Gwynnes for better cover, "trouble?".

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

At Gwynne's warning, Scourge's hands curled around his boltgun. Had the witch followed them? Was there no respite from that daemon-woman?!

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

With more than a little trepidation, Reynard peeked out around the edge of the grate.

 

Praise the bloody Emperor…

 

"Falk, it's Reynard! Nobody shoot!"

 

With a sigh of relief, he struggled out through the duct and then turned to help Seb and Alyce out as well. Over his shoulder, he spoke again.

 

"Well met, gentlemen. I'm glad to see you're all still alive."

 

Again, it was something of a surprise to find that he meant it, even for the three most… upright… members of the cell. He turned back to look at them and saw the fourth member of their party.

 

"It looks like you were successful in your task. My Lady."

 

Reynard bowed, but in truth he was less pleased to meet Lady Gwynne. Not because of her being a psyker, but rather that she was an Aldario. Yes, this one had supposedly been helpful enough… but if she had stepped forward and done the right thing decades ago, revealing what she and her family were and accepting the consequences, none of this current mess would ever have happened. Just another example of highborns trying to put their own wishes before the needs of their people.

 

Edited April 13, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Duct Grate Terminus #113:

 

Alyce picks off lumps of coagulated mould-cluster. "Hello Lady Gwynne."

 

The Seeress looks down, smiles. "Hello little one. It has been some time since you came to me for letters. I see you have friends."

 

The servo skull purrs out to take Alyce's hand in one tiny manipulator. It bobs.

 

"Florence. Hello," Gwynne says.

 

"Am sorry about my letters, miss," Alyce replies, contrite. She takes a big breath. "Mister Rain Hard stamped on Seb's ball and killed his dad."

Edited April 13, 2023 by Mazer Rackham