[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

The Railhead:

 

The lift continues, ignorant of curses, blessings or silent forbearance.

 

At the second mile mark, the temperature slips ever so quietly higher, beads of sweat suddenly starting on arms and foreheads. Prickling heat up and down your spines as you pass next to the great heat sink, no shielding or variation in the thickness of the walls. The Cog pays no heed to such mortal needs. Metal heats, metal cools. The metal remains. It is the immutable truth.

 

The air stirs to heat as the waylamps cut in, breath is loaded with hot, arid dust stirred by the grand mechanism. Water becomes warm in canteens. The ordeal continues as the lift grinds on into the stifling pit.

[A.T.]

Falk

 

"Watch the walls, sweep by quarters, no augers". Those arbites with lock-shields had already been positioned against ambush but the lift was a killing zone and not easily defensible until they reached their destination.

 

The sound of their approach could not be masked but in the vastness of the hive it would take time to track back the source of the echoes. All the better perhaps if they were found for it would mean the golems puppets were spread thin looking for them and not concentrated in its defense.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Railhead:

 

Falk's warning is prescient, as men who are nearly faint with heat exhaustion shamble into position, expecting an assault on the still-moving platform - yet the shudder that greets you all is a plunge into sudden coolness, the lift leaving the shaft, finally dropping below the hive's heat sink, and into the frigid openness of the rail terminus.

 

Hot, foetid breath turns into pale, condensed mist. Murmurs of thanks for the passing of unbearable heat turn to concerns of frostbite.

 

The platform nestles into the great triangular pit made for the base of the elevator, slowly sliding into place, flush with the hazard stripes that edge the pit, locking into the painted surface perfectly, as though never meant to leave it.

 

The terminus is broad, expansive, with abandoned pipework, tools and machines for boring tunnels, shoring them up. A millionaire's hoard of scrap lies down here as the lamps in the corners snap on, washing the entire platform with a strange ochre light. Bulkheads wink as the platform completely locks into place with a solemn thump.

 

Overturned tables where planers would spread maps, pulpits of control and direction with cables and conduits spilling from each. But for the inches of dust and grit, you could be forgiven for thinking the Mechanicum abandoned this building site only yesterday. Servitor-mounted drilling and hammer arms lie in serried ranks of size and puissance, regimented bales of rivets, bolts, and nuts in super-scale stand ready to further construction.

 

It is a void under the hive, a place where no human dwells.

 

Myriad tunnels run away from the terminus platform, a giant carbuncle on the building floor. Some are wide enough to fly the Voivode down, other big enough only to walk two-men abreast. Each have a purpose, albeit here, that purpose is vexation. Broken servitors dot the place, covered in the same dust, no matter their size or type of locomotion, all have been stripped for parts or pulverised. Countless vents and grilles bring forth a sinister, swarming mist, which clings to the deeper undulations of the rocky base.

 

A solitary figure sits enthroned upon a control dais, the robe a strange purple hue in the yellow-brown light. Stirred dust from the platform's descent wisps in the air, enough to make the whole place weightless, surreal - as though under a great volume of water.

 

The hooded figure stares from the throne. Smocking robes hiding all shape or form.

 

As the terrible sounds of the elevator stops, the settling of the hive replaces it. A disturbed carcass lying back down to sleep in the tomb to which you have arrived, for yes, you stand upon the partially exposed bedrock of Damocles itself, and the Hive Primus stretches above you, in mausoleum tribute to the time and lives that passed above it.

 

Edited July 3, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

Scourge looked about at his compatriots and panned his boltgun across the enormous chamber, their journey into the bowels of the hive finally at an end. Or perhaps only at its true beginning given the grotesque scale of the mega-structure. He took a tentative step off of the lift onto a smooth stone floor thick with the accumulated grime and dust of centuries and raised his boltgun to point it directly at the enthroned figure swathed in purple. 

 

"Nicios," he hoarsely whispered to the witch-hunter, "canst thou sense the spark of life in yonder priest? This place is like unto a tomb."

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

 

Who would have thought that there would be such a void under the Hive? On reflection maybe it was not so surprising after all, forgotten places always arose where civilisation dwelled, but for it to go so unused was. Unless the locals had abandoned it when the Golem moved in, he probably did not make for the best neighbour.

 

The Magos under the Mountain, in eternal slumber upon the control dais, most likely dead long ago, though how it had remained un disturbed when there was sign of stripping of materials all over. Even if the figure had little itself to take, the pulpit would have.

 

Taking out the Auspex Bardas coaxed its spirit into wakefulness.              

 

Spoiler

Awareness test

Per: 34 + 20 (Auspex) = 54

D100: 22, Pass, 3 DoS

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Underworld:

 

The auspex reaches out with strange detection spirits, seeking for the heat of warm bodies. It blooms into life with the mass of your own forces, but nothing to your immediate vicinity beyond that.

 

A residual thermal source in the dais shows some power still lingers there.

 

Edited July 3, 2023 by Mazer Rackham
Thermal signals

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

Nicios reached out to the Warp, sensing for the sparks of life.

Spoiler

Manifest Psychic Power (Sense Presence)

Threshold - 7

Roll - 2 + 2 + 10 + 5(WPB) + 1(Power Well) = 20

Overbleed x 2 (5 over threshold each) - Increase range x 10 for each 

Result = Pass, sense the presence of life in 70m, walls 1m thick block the power. No pyschic phenomena (no 9s rolled)

 

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

+Nothing interesting yet, but stay alert, the Golem can probably deceive such a simple spirit if it wanted to.+

 

Bardas said as he taped the screen of the Auspex.

 

+I’ll continue to keep an eye on it none the less.+

 

OOC, I'd like to keep the passive scan going, say when rolls are requiered. 

 

 

+Though there may be some residual power here+

 

Heading towards dais to take a closer look two Arbites peeled off from the closest squad to cover him as he steped of the lift and took the few steps up to the enthroned figure.

[A.T.]

Falk

 

"Spread out and secure access ways. Watch for sensors and automated systems". Stepping up with Bardas he allowed a suitable distance to not trigger any system that might be keyed to the mechanicus alone but close enough to rush forwards if needed.

 

More quietly to Bardas, "let us not do anything to mark our exact position"

[Mazer Rackham]

The Underworld:

 

Falk:

 

The Arbites nod and spread out to follow your instructions. Two or three men break off in sub-teams to cover the corners of the main arteries and smaller veins leading from this dead heart. They keep their weapons low, stablights on only for the trip so they can see what and where they're going. No lights spear the grim darkness of the depths in your future.

 

As you approach the enthroned figure, your copper's nose can smell the dry, dead bones and string of brittle sinew. It is a corpse king of this dead kingdom.

 

Bardas:

 

As you close the gap, you can see a large brass torc hanging inside the robes, glinting faintly, dully from the corrosion. The disc hanging from it is a artisan-worked Opus Mechanicum, with a identity circlet below. You can't quite see it from this angle. What you can ascertain, is that this fellow was an adept of the Cog, with minimally invasive augmetics. Some of these protrude from the shredded folds of the cloth, they are excellent in both quality and size - the smaller devices of dark metal being the work of a master fabricator.

 

Quite simply put, had these been robbed out, they would pay for a small spacecraft.

 

One other factor is greatly apparent. The corpse has no right forearm.

 

Nicios: (ONLY):

Spoiler

You can detect traces of humanity lingering just at the edges of your senses. Not solid presence, but the aura of thoughts, hopes, fear. These thoughts are tainted, not by oil or the cold calculus of the enemy, but something more primitively powerful, the touch of darkness and radiation.

 

Curiosity and dread stain the thoughts and dreams of these creatures in equal measure, but hunger grips and drives beyond both.

 

 

[Trokair]

Pippin in Moria

 

With care Bardas nudged the purple cloth aside to get a better view of the torc and the circlet below it. The gifts just resting within the remains was anomalous, especially given the evidence of the other remains in the chamber.  

 

Could they somehow be active while the host was dead?

 

Spoiler

Agility test to nudge clot aside without disturbing anything.

Ag: 41

D100: 85, fail, 4 DoF

Do they have a cave troll?

Fate Point reroll

D100: 92

I should have seen that comming!

 

Edited July 4, 2023 by Trokair
Fate point reroll

[Mazer Rackham]

The Underworld:

 

Pippin The Lightfooted:

 

With a spectacular display worthy of the great sleuth, but foppish and cowardly explorer, Scoobish McDoogal, you somehow catch your foot in the smocking robe, and plunge into the throne. The brittle rockrete doesn't arrest your fall whatsoever, and you crash to the floor three feet below, in a tumultuous tumble of broken bones, smashed masonry and an obligatory plume of dust. The circlet in your hand proclaims that the now destroyed corpse was Executor Princeps, Devran Holle.

 

This name is not unknown to you, held in the files and and ident codes of the information you have gleaned from your investigations, albeit a minor footnote.

 

He lies now, significantly scattered across the floor.

 

A great rumble of metal on metal presages the unlocking of magnetic clamps, as the elevator platform begins to rise. Before the Judges still on the lift can apply the brakes, a great wail of metal creaking in fatal warning resounds through the deep under croft, before the whole mechanism twists by a quarter to clockwise, and jams in place, stuck.

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

Moving to Falk, Nicios relays his warp-sight. "Thoughts, fears, and dread clutter the aether, but no definitive living bodies that I can sense. All clear, for now."

 

Bardas rams into the throne, destroying the corpse and tumbling down. Nicios reacts to the elevator noises by raising his weapon and preparing for an assault of any kind.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

This place was all contradictions. Reynard frowned. Why loot a few scattered servitors and ignore the wealth of construction materials? He'd seen enough pit fights to know that the oversized drills and hammers would make for fearsome weapons, and bolts and rivets could be transformed into bullets and armour.

 

And the Executor. Someone that high up in the Mechanicus, with such a treasure trove of personal gear, wouldn't have been wandering around with only one arm. Presumably it had been replaced with a cybernetic enhancement? If so, someone else had taken it from him. But if that was the case, why not loot the other mastercrafted bionics at the same time?

 

He said as much to the others.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Underworld:

 

It is, in that precise moment of stillness falling after Reynard's query, the Auspex detects the tracker round signal, faint. It beckons from deep within Causeway 3, a medium-sized tunnel leading from the lift terminus, easy enough to spread six men abreast., and two standing on their shoulders.

 

Edited July 5, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Falk

 

"Mark the trackers last location, if it is still undetected the the golem has no reason not to send its away host with the rest to seek us. Bounding overwatch, phosphor-flares at each junction."

 

As he moved to take up his place and check on Bardas he answered Reynards question with speculation, "a key perhaps, like the seals we carry, or just a lingering part of his humanity... if his name and his authority are still active within the signals of the mechanicum then perhaps we have found another of the golems masks"

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard nodded in agreement with Falk.

 

"Of course, if it has spotted the tracker, it can lead us into a trap…"

 

He pulled out his cartograph, looking specifically for the files Bardas had brought back, trying to make sense of where they were and where each tunnel might lead to, especially Causeway 3.

 

 

Edited July 5, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Was going to do a map, but couldn't get anything satisfying, so have to do it the old fashioned way.

 

There are three main causeways leading from the terminus, with six other 'tributaries' which are of differing, and smaller dimensions. The cartograph will give information to the following degrees:

• Causeway one (Left of the control dais), disappears in a direct line with two angled turns left.
• Causeway two (Right of the control dais), heads towards the sump below the heat sink in a clockwise slow turn.
• Causeway three (Behind the dais, straight on from the platform), heads deeper under the hive toward the nucleonic stack staging area

 

The other 'tributaries' form a latticework of twists and turns which go back and forth, criss-crossing the main causeways, in geometric spaghetti.

 

Circumvention of rockfalls, barricades or flooded compartments is possible - as is a myriad of ambush and fall-back points.

 

Edited July 5, 2023 by Mazer Rackham
Stuff

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Even as he fell he threw the circlet away from himself in momentary horror. This had been the Executor Princeps, ally of the Golem and all that followed. Half sitting on the floor, surrounded by the remains of Devran Holle, he started to tell the others as to who these bones belonged to then paused, given the age of the destroyed corpse perhabse he had not been an ally of the golem, someone had murdered him and replaced him given the reports of the Executor Princeps had aced well past the demise of his body.

 

Shakily standing up again with the assistance of Falk Bardas considered his new legs. To have been caught like that spoke to a lack of agility compared to the his original limbs. However the specs belied that, these should be as good or better the mere flesh and blood, he must simply not be as used to them as he had thought.  

 

Edited July 15, 2023 by Trokair

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

He'd stayed silent. To hand to give aid and ward against threats.

 

If you have nothing to say, stay silent.

 

 

+Best not to split up!+ he cautioned.

 

 

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Agreed, Kerr."

 

After a few moments puzzling over the plans, Reynard shrugged, put the carto back in its pocket and pointed towards Causeway 3.

 

"So far, the map and the tracker both seem to fit with what Bardas' source said about the Golem being holed up near the Stack controls… so I'd say until we get a better idea, we go that way?"

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Causeway 3:

 

As you progress down the causeway, it doesn't deviate. Vents on the side of the wall continue to drop cool water vapour onto the bare rock and occasional metal, keeping the temperature low. The Arbites fan out before and behind, moving carefully to cover junctions, dropping slow-burn phosphor at junctions to mark passage and leave a trail in the murky atmosphere.

 

For over thirty minutes, you stride into the darkness, the ochre light dropping away to a mere haze behind you. The vents, stolid and maintained near the terminus, become ragged, bolts from corners rusting on the ground, the heads sheared off by corrosion, the rugged metal twisted, barely hanging on. Clumps of small, glowing, green and blue-green fungus take root in the broken rocks of the causeway floor, providing a meagre light source.

 

A waft of living, but soiled flesh carries on the air, souring the otherwise blunt dampness.

 

GM: All Players may make a Challenging (+0) Perception Test, or use the Auspex.

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

Perception Test: 36

Perception Test: 1d100 61: failure; 2 DoF

Edited July 6, 2023 by Necronaut

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

Perception Test

Target - 41

Roll - 28

Result = Pass, 1 DoS

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Perception Test

Per: 34 + 20 (Auspex) = 54

D100: 26, Pass, 2 DoS

Edit: I guess still Auspexing for heat signitures.

Edited July 6, 2023 by Trokair