[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Yes, of course. It's my fault, not the killer whose finger is on the trigger.

 

Reynard sighed mentally and dropped down to one knee beside Alyce.

 

"I truly hope not, little one. I don't think the bad man will hurt Seb's dad yet, and I'm going to ask our master that the very next thing we do after taking you all to a safe place is go and rescue him."

 

"But we couldn't let the bad man hear everything we were doing, or tell us what to do or where to go. That could put the whole Hive in a lot of danger. I couldn't take that risk, and I'm sure Seb's dad wouldn't want me to."

 

He looked up at where young  LeCroix stood, still clearly angry.

 

"I hope Seb understands that too."

 

 

Edited April 13, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Grate #113:

 

Gwynne waits until Reynard is finished. "Alyce, take Seb to the Librarium, and tell Danval you're behind. You need to stay there."

 

The girl nods, holds up her hand and the young man takes it, letting her lead without argument, his face passing from anger to a strange numbness. Florence lingers, manipulators retracted, the servo skull lingers around Reynard.

 

"A cunning one, to be sure," Gwynne says watching the youngsters, but her voice carries clearly to the group, before she turns, facing the swindler. She offers a nod of her head to him.

 

"We are complete - now let us proceed. The shadows linger, watching."

[A.T.]

Falk

 

"I hope your abrupt exit yielded results, and by your choice of entrance some fresh attention. That being the case it seems we will have to risk the streets."

 

He eyed the servo skull, "and this?", motioning towards it in search of an explaination given their advarsary.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Some, though less detailed than I would have liked. Drexler confirmed where the Golem was not, and made some logical suggestions about where it must be. We were also able to confirm that Greyson and his men are holed up in the Canthus medical facility. There is also a possibility that Lexandro De Grassi will trouble us no longer, but I am less than confident in that regard."

 

He turned to Gwynne.

 

"Agreed, my Lady, haste seems wise. Are we escorting you to our master's side?"

 

When Gwynne nodded, Reynard turned to the servo-skull, beckoning it closer. Quietly he instructed it.

 

"Return to your mistress. Protect her. Give her this message; Ask her, if she is able, to tell Karthago to meet me at the Halls of Judgement. Tell her I look forward to our next meeting. I'll bring flowers."

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wreck of the Gladius:

 

The holding cells are a place of arid sterility. Once a room for the clinical processing of wayward miscreants before incarceration in the deeper cellblocks of the vessel, the scattered remains of guardian and prisoner alike tumble into desiccated unity, trapped together forever.

 

Packing cases are strewn from busted storage lockers, but the bunkers containing the most dangerous or important items remain sealed.

 

A Challenging (+0) Tech Use Test will be required for the bunker storing the items you are after. After that a simple search can resolve the retrieval. You may narrate this. You should describe the wide variety of packing crates and items as you wish. Bardas may use the rummaging to restore 1D10 of his Repair Parts. Further 1D3 Magazines of contraband ammunition may be acquired per player (Nothing above Scarce, so no Bolt rounds etc).

 

Each player may also recover 1D10 x 5 Thrones.

 

You should conclude your posts with the recovery of 1 x Stasis Crate and 1 x Tech-arcana crate, both under Locke's seal. Neither can yet be opened.

Edited April 13, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal and Bardas:

 

Their progress aft to the holding cells had been hard, rappelling down treacherous slopes and past more sparking wire snakes.

 

But eventually they had made it.

 

 

 

The desiccated remains of a prisoner and guard coated the walls, ceiling and a holding chair with blood stains. The prisoner's skeleton poked out of its rags where it was restrained by the chair. It's skull grinned the rictus smile of death, whilst his tormentor's remains had impacted through one of the lockers.

 

Prisoners of time.

 

 

Prisoners of time, we all are. Working together we can save time. Time flows anyway, ignore and don't be beholden to it.

 

 

Kerr Restal and Bardas were initially halted by an intact sturdy storage bunker. He the master of doors and locks, Bardas of the machines.

 

His unwillingness to be governed by time allowed him insights into his new knowledge base.

 

 

Be smaller than time, be the ones and noughts, even be the moment between the numbers.

 

 

 

INT 33 +0 (Tech Use) +10 (Bardas Assist) -0 (Challenging) = 43. Result: 09, Pass 3DoS

 

 

Utilising lock picks, his fingers flowed across the door. He also applied power from the las-cell of his las pistol to feed the door locks and he was further assisted by Bardas, who offered suggestions and prayers.

 

Forces from the ship crash had spilt arms and munitions all over the floor, lockers within hung open with broken doors agape.

 

 

 

1D3 Magazines. 1D6/3: 5 = 3 Magazines.

1D10 x 5 Thrones - Result: 7 x5 = 35 Thrones

 

 

 

A trove of plunder. Time hadn't been kind to the spilt weapons, however there were many sealed ammunition boxes. He set about filling Hand Cannon magazines with Man-Stopper Rounds, he even found some loose Thrones.

 

+Voidsman, I have located two crates that were sealed by Inquisitor Locke. Your assistance would be appreciated+

 

 

 

 

Edited May 5, 2023 by Machine God
Carnodon Rounds

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

They had had to use the second rope to safely reach the holding area, sloped or damaged floors would otherwise have been a dangerous crossing. The holding cells were as much a battlefield as the bridge, but upon examination of a few remains Bardas thought that there the fighting had been between guard and prisoner, and not with some external threat as it had appeared on the Command Deck. If any had escaped they had not cared about the fate of those that remained.   

 

The Voidsman had found their quarry first, and wasting no time set about invoking the lock to open. He assisted as best he could, dispensing snippets of teaching as to the souls and workings of machines as and when he felt it was appropriate, but all in all the Voidsman certainly knew what he was doing with the internal workings of a ship, even one beached planeside.

 

No doubt the approaching opposition was coming to either safeguard the golem if it was indeed here, or deny them whatever they might find here. The fact that after all this time the lock here had still been sealed lead Bardas to speculate that the golem was either not here at all, or if it was had not had any interest in exploring the wreck for resources. It has had decades and appears to have done nothing.

 

From the data file the somnolent cogitator up above had reluctantly provided there were two items with Locke personal seal in here, but where to look. The inside of the secured storage was a jumbled mess. The crash must have dislodged many a crate and strongbox, for the floor was scattered with all sorts of supplies, most timeworn and beyond immediate use. With the amount of scattered ammunition it was a wonder that nothing had ignited during the crash.

 

While Kerr Restal worked his way along one side Bardas took the other. While not their quarry a Mechanicum stamped box drew his attention, the more delicate tolls inside where smashed, but there were a selection of universal function parts, shifting through an assortment Bardas pocketed the ones that  appeared intact. Methodical might not be the quickest approach, but in the end it brought forth results. They better get both crates out of here and back to the Deadman.

 

Spoiler

Spare parts

1 D10= 7

Thrones

1d10 (5) x 5 = 25

Amunition

1d3 (3 on d6/2 round up) = 2 Magazines of Man-Stopper

 

Edited April 14, 2023 by Trokair

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wreck:

 

+Gro.. party, Voi..de. Signif...nt mechan...sed fo..e. Mov... to stand off ve...r. Ceph.. diggi.. in top...e. O..r+

 

The line reduces to complete static, as the hull gently creaks and settles in the shifting sands and boiling heat. You detect the distant rumble of engines moving off from directly ahead, and the tremor in the carcass of advancing ground vehicles.

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

Reynard?!

 

Scourge relaxed slightly at the sight of his erstwhile comrade and new travelling companions, releasing his grip on the boltgun. He looked down at his gauntleted hands, wondering again at the horror they had nearly wrought, at what might have been another wrongful death by his hands. Truth be told, he could scarcely have been held accountable had the worst happened, but he would have known it was still his finger that loosed the bolt, that he had been powerless to prevent it from happening. He shuddered at the thought and silently thanked the God-Emperor for turning the bolt round aside, causing it to fly wide of Nicios. He looked over at the witch-hunting psyker and stewed in his own self-pity a few moments longer, wishing to make amends to his fellow acolyte. That would have to wait, unfortunately.

 

An exchange followed between Reynard, Gwynne and the young girl which he could not follow, and the angry young man in Reynard's new motley crew was led away by the hand by the small child. He watched in confused wonderment as they departed for the librarium.

 

He turned to Falk, "Reynard speaketh true, Arbitrator; we must proceed anon. 'Twould be folly to tarry in this dungeon any longer. Lady Gwynne must be seen to safety for her sake and that of the hive."

 

At Falk's order, the party started off again down the dark and dank halls of the lower hive. After some long minutes of traveling with only the sounds of their footsteps and the rattling of equipment to mark the time, Scourge turned to the blind seeress and broke the tense silence that settled over his traveling companions. 

 

"Lady Gwynne, thou asketh my name prior," he swallowed and measured his words before continuing. "Forgive my reticence: my given name is gone, lost, forsaken, and I will not degrade thee with the prisoner's number I hath borne 'ere now. I hath been offered a path to redemption by the grace of God; my designation ist Scourge if it pleaseth thee."

Edited April 14, 2023 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

The Lower Hive:

 

When Scourge breaks the quiet of the travelling party, Gwynne nods. "It pleases," she replies.

 

Hours onward, as you continue traversing the passages, both wide and narrow, but always heading up, you hear an almighty ruckus from up ahead. On your cartographs, it appears to be some form of public square or meeting place. The smell of burning flesh and exploded fyceline wafts down the passage along with the clash of metal on metal, followed by the ring and thump of metal bursting flesh.

 

A quick check of the dataslates in your possession suggest you have crossed into a red zone - currently lawless, but far from lifeless.

 

Creeping further down the corridor, you can discern war cries and lots of very colourful language.

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal and Bardas:

 

+Time to leave Bardas+ said Kerr Restal.

 

Each further burdened by one of Locke's cases they set off, slowly but surely.

 

With the use of his drop harness and its motorised spool line they transported the cases to the top. When they made the junction, they stopped and listened.

 

+Bardas wait here whilst I scout ahead!+

 

 

AGL 35 +0 (Silent Move) = 35. Result: 20, Pass 1DoS

 

 

 

[A.T.]

Falk

 

Falk shouldered his shotgun and checked the silencer on his pistol as he looked pointedly towards Reynard, "the rest of us would stick out too much if spotted, you have point while we check for an alternate route. The last thing we need down here is another bloodbath."

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard threw Falk a lazy salute.

 

"Got it," he whispered. "Give me two minutes."

 

Spoiler

Silent Move: Ag50, Roll: 47, Success
Concealment: Ag50, Roll: 36, Success with 1DoS

 

 

The trickster edged slowly forwards along the corridor wall, hugging the shadows. The noise and gun-smoke gradually increased as he neared the exit. At the very lip of the tunnel mouth, he stopped and peered out into the larger chamber.

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wreck:

 

The coast is clear in the lengthy passageways, nothing more stirring than when you first entered, although the engine noise you heard earlier has died down to almost nothing. Reception however is markedly better.

 

+Insertion team. We have visitors,+ Cephas advises in his deep baritone.

 

The Square:

 

As Reynard eases forward, the noise drastically increases. You can hear bottles being hurled, smashing, and the roar of flammable liquids igniting. Beyond the entrance of your corridor there is the spectacle of a lone, semi-armoured Arbites vehicle being pelted with bricks and firebombs, but they seem to be only part of the mix, for in the middle and flanks of the rather large public square a battle is raging between what appear to be two gangs. The mutual hatred of the grim law enforcement officers does not seem to be in effect - and is likely the only reason the Judges have survived this far.

 

You are completely unnoticed as men in different coloured robes, neon tattoos and armbands hack and claw at eath other with cudgels, machete-knives and pipes festooned with chains and thick boltheads.

 

A sharp bang attracts your attention as one Juve blows the head off another at point-blank with a single-barrelled shotgun, and in turn has a meat cleaver buried in his head.

 

Around the square are stone benches and ornamental gargoyles, which one spewed water into the basins of the fountains, now desecrated by violence. One half of a water-carrying cherub is blown into rugged powder by a superbly powerful handgun. A scream of sheer, brutal joy accompanies it. The other maniacs with him take the opportunity to engage in a long-range gunfight.

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal and Bardas:

 

+10-4 Cephas, please patch a copy of topside positions of the foe and the Voivode to our cartographs, so that we may extract swiftly+ he voxxed.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard whispered into his microbead, assuming Falk at least would understand his use of Hive slang.

 

"Gang war. All out. But we have got what looks like a squad of beetles in a black mariah. They're staying out of the mess, maybe they can give us a ride out of here? Want to try their channel, Falk?"

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wreck:

 

+That is easier said than done,+ Cephas replies, +Voivode has moved to stand-off distance, circling us at one kilometre, for good reason. I count perhaps a platoon of humans, divided between all-terrain bikes and light-attack vehicles. Armaments: Multilaser, Autocannon.+

 

There are several seconds' pause.

 

+They have dismounted, but do not climb the hull. Wait. Out.+

 

A long minute follows.

 

+Two men stand at the foot of the wreck. No uniform, no rank. One carries a flag of truce.+

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

+Do they look similar to the Dreg tribe that were here previously, Cephas?+ Kerr Restal asked.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wreck:

 

+No. They appear disciplined. Equipment in reasonable order. They remain at approximately fifty - five-zero - metres from my current position on the hull.+

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

+Stay hidden and observe, Cephas+ Kerr Restal voxxed, as he moved towards the inspection hatchway.

 

He opened the hatch carefully, so that his head didn't poke outside. From his vantage point he saw the two men under a flag of truce. A way back he could make out their vehicles.

 

 

"A parlez, as per the code? I am Tarrant and I will listen to your terms!"

 

 

 

Edited April 15, 2023 by Machine God
Cover

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

"Risky to draw attention, both from their advance and open comms", he glances back down at his cartograph, "does the fight look to be moving or are they dug in?"

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

+Well, if they want to talk, maybe we should hear what they have to say.+

 

 

+If they don’t already know about Cephas then we should not enlighten them, and I suspect if it turns nasty Kerr will be better placed to fight. Logic dictates I should go down. Concur?+  

Edited April 15, 2023 by Trokair

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wreck:

 

As you peer around and discuss the matter, a vox ping comes in from Cephas to acknowledge your plan. You can barely see him, his angular armour and swathing robe have collected sand and grit, and he's tucked into an old ramscoop grille. He looks just like another block of mangled machinery. The bike is obviously tucked away somewhere.

 

The vehicles are arranged in a circle, providing 360 coverage of their weapons. They aren't wearing uniforms, for the radsuits are different, patches, equipment serviceable, but rugged. Each of the vehicles carries a flexible aerial with a long pennant in pale blue cloth, a stylised wild felid - perhaps a leopard in silver thread. The wind makes it appear the bit cat is running or leaping.

 

Over the howling wind and buzz of the radcounters a voice carries up on a voxgrille from a rad suit.

 

+In the name of Aydam Khosh, Hetman of the Khamsin Brotherhood, and by the Emperor's grace Satrap of the Eternal Sands, I demand your purpose here!+

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Still, what choice did they really have. Switching comms direct command feed and raising his arm to muffle his voice slightly, "Priority request, patrol team cherno 117 request secure local comm frequency for arbites vehicle stationed at following sector reference", Falk looked down at this cartograph reading the position across, knowing that any vox thieves or malicious tech sprites in the area would now know exactly where they were.

 

The datacode in the transmission would ID this bead to him rather than the mis-identification. With any luck it wouldn't be picked out from the rest of the traffic.

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

+Come over to me here, but stay partially out of sight. I have an idea+ Kerr Restal voxxed, as he moved upwards into view.

 

"We acknowledge Aydam Khosh, Hetman of the Khamsin Brotherhood. His name and benevolence is known to us, Inshallah!" spoke Kerr Restal, his arms wide.

 

"In pilgrimage we came to this site, with the aid of the Djinn we drove off the Dreg scavengers who defiled the wreck. The scavengers bore no sign of fealty." Kerr Restal offered a short bow.

 

"My Tech-Seer and I, have retrieved artifice that was stolen from my Clan. We simply wish to leave this site on our aircraft. We relinquish all salvage rights. What say you?"