Deathwatch: Murderers in Black (IC Thread)

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

 

The churigeon had been called away to deal with some other matter,

 

 

The whispers amongst the medicae serfs, as ever spake in oh so silent whispers when the Vargheist was in attendance.

 

 

Now he had gone the hushed whispers rose in volume, like the speech of crows!

 

 

He concentrated and heard...

 

 

A Murder?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

The ravings of the Black Templar did little to redeem him. The determination of Amaras set in stone the consequences of their brother’s actions, no matter by whose hand (or what) it was guided. As Gerhardt was restrained and taken away unwillingly to his cell, Zidemi pondered the series of events back from where they were now.

 

Gerhardt was found in Dendinius’ cell, confused by his own actions that… resulted in Dendinius’ demise. At first inspection, there was no signs of conflict at the scene: Azadth and Skaayn had confirmed as much thus far.

 

Prior to now, they had all been sleeping. It seemed Gerhardt had woken up before everyone else. He would have been resting in his cell…

 

”Wait!” He called to the Astartes as they carried the accused. “We must also inspect Gerhardt’s cell!” 
 

Sprinting out of the cell, ahead and around the trio of Astartes, Zidemi entered Gerhardt’s cell, hoping for answers. Or at least, ensuring that their prisoner was disarmed… 

 

Zidemi will inspect Gerhardt’s cell for anything unusual, out of place, or not appropriate to be in a make-shift “prison” (weapons, etc). I believe this is a Challenging Perception Test?

 

Test: 41 (Per) +0 = 41 Required

Roll: d100 = 22 = Pass, 1DoS

 

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

"If you do not know the voice of your father then it was not Him", the touch of the divine left no room for doubt.

 

Were he a Scorpion his death would already be assured, time would tell if the Deathwatch held itself to such standards.

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

Zidemi did not know what he was expecting. That there was some sign or object of corrupting influence within Gerhardt’s quarters? That there was a dangerous surprise waiting for them? All he could see was appropriate trappings and a couple of scattered items about the floor. No weapons or armour were present either. Nothing that would explain his brother’s behaviour.

 

He cursed his impetuousness. The cult of the machine pushed him to think quickly and act promptly, but the Fireborn would have scolded him for his rashness. 

 

Zidemi apologised to his fellow brothers and made his leave. He needed to find another way to be useful.

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

There was nothing more to be gained this hour, so Azadth returned to his cell, used his knife to lever up one of the old hinges so the door would creak, closed and fastened it. All ordered to satisfaction, he took to his palette, and slept.

 

The wan lustre of dawn light shedding from the white mountain peaks roused him at the fifth hour, marginally earlier than he would usually arise through habit. Sudden relocation via time or climate difference altered a human body substantially, but he was no longer merely mortal. The Rite of Ascendance brought so many immunities undreamed of. Truly, it was a reward for courage, patience and sacrifice.

 

His mind turned over the events that harrowed the halls of the Bulwark. Fate, to humans it seemed, was fickle, capricious. This was a misunderstanding, because destiny was neither of these things, both triumph and disaster were imposters to master. A balance of humours was the only navigation - a steady tiller on the sea of soul. For a moment, he contemplated the brush, but the wrapped length of a newly whittled Eridean flute suggested itself. No. Too early. He suspected Omoc the Pugilist, or perhaps Moridyn the Dour would be least pleased by his enthusiastic, yet beginner melodies.

 

Azadth smiled, looked across at the modest shelf, spotting his small tea service, an agglomeration of pots, carafes and cups liberated from the refectory. A small, battered tin teapot was his favourite. He'd traded for that one with a Chapter serf. A humble thing, with an honest patina. So be it. Dressing in his emerald travelling robe, he eschewed boots: let his approach be silent, with the history of this keep being told by stones beneath his feet.

 

Assembling the char-gear, he loaded all onto a tray, and made his way down into the depths of the keep, the stairwells cut to favour the right-handed defender, until he finally reached the levels with the prison cells. Tougher and more robust than even those the Astartes chose to sleep in, the spirit of this place was different. Herein, the walls called out in muted scream, the brickwork scrubbed too cleanly, no cobwebs or stains in sight.

 

He knew there lingered old blood and crimson smear. The humans may wash away their transgressions - no matter how justly they claimed inflicted - but the stone remembered all the same. Old sins cast long shadows, even as his shape was illuminted by the glowlamps. No candles down here, no, all must be bright, the shadows of the corners banished. He wondered if it was to stop the sentries going mad, seeing the wickedness in every haunted shade, or if it was mere common sense to abhor the crevices in which one might hide.

 

Azadth approached, rolling his feet slighty to remove the slap of flesh on stone, but the hidden augurs of the Inquisition and Deathwatch were myriad as mystical, but he was without fear of them. He belonged here - destiny itself had appointed it.

 

+Halt. Identify yourself.+

 

One of a shift of four Inquisitorial stormtroopers was working sentry, his voice was calm, level. It was the blank neutrality of authority which never had to ask twice, never had to raise it's voice. When it spoke, the fearful heart listened.

 

Azadth didn't care. His emerald eyes reflected in the dark glass of the helmet, punched through the barrier to make eye contact. Hands otherwise full, yet he bowed as was tradition. 'Greetings. I am Azadth.'

 

The man cocked his head, unsatisfied. Azadth heard the man draw breath to speak again.

 

'I am First Son of Aresh, Brother of the Third House, and oathsworn to the Sable. I bring Gerhardt of the Black Templars his allotted daily ration.'

 

+I'm not sure the prisoner - +

 

With his best, least offensive smile, the one favoured by politicians and Kaimanae both, Azadth interrupted. 'Your pardon, of course. You do your duty. However, to prevent this is to deny my Chapter custom, and I would then have to kill you, and your comrades, your family, friends and burn down your village for the insult. It would be...regrettable...but it would be done.'

 

He offered a small, apologetic shrug which failed entirely to match the increasingly blunt savagery of his tone.

 

The men looked at each other, suddenly unsure.

 

'You come from Cadia, do you not?' Azadth had seen the purple eyes beneath the mask.

 

+Threats to the servants of the Inquisition do not go unpunished.+

 

'I do not care. Nor will my brethren when then avenge me. Honour, is honour.'

 

The man cleared his throat. +It's...uh, just water?+

 

'Tea, but it is whole and unsullied. The prisoner will not escape justice. All will be done per regulation.'

 

The barred doors of the Inquisition soon parted, but they watched him like a hawk, no doubt all his bravura recorded for posterity. It mattered little. Doghra was only a few days hence, and if the suspicions in his breast were true, he was going into a deathtrap anyway. He'd just like to know a little more about why. The cell doors opened with a suction pull of seals splitting and the odour of a man living in rancid filth roiled into the vestibule of judgement. He'd smelled worse in the rotting swamps of Hecate II. Heavy iron snares rattled as the lank-haired beast stirred to the intrusion.

 

'You have already condemned and hanged yourself,' he told the grimy brute within. Without further invitation, he set the tray down, took a squat bench from without the cell, and sat, rolling his sleeves up to the elbow, muttering the recitals as he began the deft movements in the ceremony of Chai-Dahi.

 

Tea for two.

 

Edited May 16 by Mazer Rackham
Cleaned up a bit

[Ancient_Sobek]

Bekkar

 

The sound of rockcrete fracturing fill the small space of Bekkar’s cell as his armored fist slammed into the wall. The normally calm marine gave vent to his anger. His need to release the pent up frustration and hurt within him was stronger than his resolve.

 

“Why?!” He growled, unable to fathom the actions of the templar. To kill a battle brother… it was madness! Were the Templars so weak-willed that they would let their own petty prejudices overwhelm their senses?!

 

He had not know the Librarian for long, but he had become a trusted battle brother. Despite his reserved manor Dendinius had had a strong sense of teamwork and brotherhood. During their induction and training at their former watch house they had developed an understanding and trust of each others talents. This allowed them to work seamlessly during battle training, each one’s skill complementing the other. The base treachery of the templar had robbed them of the Black Guard’s talent and strength. How had this come to pass?

 

He had not witnessed the treachery himself. He had been in the hanger reviewing the maintenance and loading of the gunship for the mission. The Templar supposedly feigned ignorance of his actions. Dissembling with talk of “voices” in his head and no recollection of how he came to be in the Librarian’s chambers. He doubted the Templar’s excuses and felt he should have been sanctioned immediately, but Skayn had stayed his execution for three days hence. Bekkar fumed at this, but would not gainsay his commander.

 

Now he must wait until the event had been investigated thoroughly. The Templar had better pray to the God-Emperor for mercy, for if he was not satisfied with the information uncovered he would strike the traitor down himself…

Edited May 17 by Ancient_Sobek

[Lysimachus]

Scene 2. Testator Silens

 

 

Spoiler

OOC: With many thanks to @Xin Ceithan , whose knowledge of the mysteries of the Medicae far outstrips my own, and who is therefore well qualified to be the author of this week's update! (and a fantastic job he's done of it too! )

 

 

The kill-team had assembled in a small medicae theatre inside the Apothecarium. The hololithic projection of the ill-fated Librarian rotated slowly in their midst, fading in and out like a haunting ancestor spirit from some tribal death world. A sharp triangular angry red wedge displayed the path the Black Templar’s sword had taken.
 
After an encouraging nod from Watch-Captain Skaayn, Amaras addressed the Kill-team. He was clad in his full warplate and had apparently not released it since the incident in the dormitory.
 
“Brothers,” he began, “I have been asked to brief you all on the essential findings following the recent completion of the post mortem examination rituals regarding the cause of death of Brother-Librarian Dendinius.
 
First off, it grieves me to report that, due the extent of his injuries, we were sadly only partially successful in the recovery of the Brother-Librarian’s gene-seed. The retrocervical node in particular was completely destroyed. There are also some… further… complications… that have arisen from the findings during this examination that may make returning it to his Chapter… well…, problematic.”
 
The Apothecary reached inside the projection, bringing up the red smear running through the Librarian’s body.
 
“But let us not get ahead of things. First, have a look at this. There is obviously no need to tell any of you that, given the point of entry, the force involved and the resulting trajectory of the attack, the traumatic  progression of damage resulting from these injuries led to a progressive cascade of critical damage to several essential physiological processes which - especially in sequence - produced an unavoidable, inevitable and almost imminent lethal outcome.”
 
Amaras ran an armoured finger along the red line, pointing slowly at several locations of the enlarged image.
 
“The death of Brother Dendinius was therefore indeed directly caused by a massive application of sharp edged physical force. There was extensive damage to several neuralgic nodes and neurofibers along the upper cervical vertebrae sequence. These were in addition to vast incisive rupturing of major circulatory vessels along the path of entry before the blade passed down to and through the upper bronchial bifurcation of his primary lung, a considerable part of the multi-pulmonal augmenting implant as well as resulting in direct piercing damage to both the primary and secondary heart. This sequence of combined damage led to a cascading combination of physical and neural inhibitions or paralyzation, which culminated in an almost immediate inability to uphold even the basic circulatory processes which would be required to uphold even basic emergency cerebral functions. It is entirely clear from the extent and form of application of said sharp physical force that the attack was clearly designed and executed with the purpose and intent of ensuring a maximum level of damage with the explicit aim of a lethal outcome with extensive knowledge of the physical processes involved and clearly aimed on being executed on a subject belonging to the Adeptus Astartes  - ensuring a lethal outcome per extremis. This was clearly done with the stated purpose of killing a Space Marine with almost certain outcome and in the shortest amount of time possible as well as the intention of reducing the possibilities of countering the damage done or any form of response as much as possible.”

 

An expression of grief seemed to play over the Apothecary’s pale features.
 
“So, as it stands, Brother Dendinius did indeed die as a direct result and the given time due to the wounds caused by the attack as performed by Brother Gerhardt.”
 
Amaras shot the Mantis Warrior a sidelong look. The ghost of a smile reached his lips.
 
“And there is no indication that his death might have been caused in any way by something related to the Brother-Librarian’s dietary choices.” 
 
There was a subdued cough. Amaras turned to the Watch-Captain and gave him a short nod.
 
“My apologies, Watch-Captain.” 
 
The smile faded.
 
“Moving on… Brother-Librarian Dendinius thus indeed died due to an expertly applied form of primarily sharp physical force designed and applied in a way that ensured the death of a member of the Adeptus Astartes. The level of skill involved in this is quite remarkable, as it is as sophisticated as it is clearly deliberate. It is certainly not something you would apply or perform from at a momentary lapse of judgment or loss of emotional control. 
 
This might seem obvious, but it is important to note that this emphasizes the initial impression that Brother-Librarian Dendinius was not just killed. His death was caused intentionally and with clear and extensive deliberation. 
 
At the same time it also appears, at first glance at least, needlessly complex. Even if performed as a conscious act of execution, there are several other techniques that come to mind which would have provided a similar lethal outcome - especially in a rather confined environment like that of our deceased brother’s personal cell. This level of deliberation and precision would make the entire event extremely suspect on its own. And, as you can see here…” 
 
A flurry of gestures increased the magnification along the wound, pushing it into a projection of microscopic overlays.
 
“This is a close-up of the incision edge along the trajectory progression of the application of sharp force in progression along the line of entry on a cellular level. Note how this is an almost geometrically precise straight line along the edge of the cut. There is very little deviation along the trajectory, nor any extensive undulating displacement of the surrounding cellular tissue beyond the shearing of the mass and the weight of the weapon’s progression and the unavoidable direct and indirect heat derived  deformation caused by the weapon’s power field. Horizontal and vertical drift along the entire line of cut are almost negligible. Even if we include the influence and effects of the extensive cauterization and sub-cellular compression caused by the direct and indirect thermal interaction caused by the power field as well as the effects of unavoidable reaction like subconscious micro-musculo-or physiological baseline reaction to the direct stimuli or physical processes involved, this level of precision is absolutely… remarkable.” 
 
Amaras paused.
 
“Note that I mean this with no disregard to the abilities of any warrior, present company included. But this isn’t the work of a warrior. But I doubt even one of the blade adepts of one of the wretched Aeldari could inflict a wound at this level of precision on someone in combat. This level of precision… the shape of the wound on display here… well…, it’s quite literally… surgical. In every sense of the word. There is virtually no way to inflict sharp edged damage at this level and over the length and area involved on a living subject in a combat situation. And these structures here…” 
 
Amaras fingers flexed, skimming up and down along the hololithic imagery as he displayed his findings, focussing here, then re-focussing elsewhere on the details, then rushed towards the next. At this level of magnification, the cellular details shot past around the kill-team eerily reminiscent of a fighter craft on an attack run at almost ground level. The Watch-Captain suddenly felt grateful that the Emperor’s great Work had granted the gift of Lyman’s Ear to his Chosen.
 
“… are clearly proof of early onset immuno-baric and haemophilia-defensive processes, so we can indeed clearly establish that the body of Brother Dendinius was still physically alive at the time of the injury or at least shortly after the application and that his physiology attempted to react to the traumata it inflicted. The only other time I have seen histographic cell structuring like this would on something like a sample taken from a chirugeon’s work.”

 

Amaras waved an armoured hand. The Kill-team found itself suddenly drifting along inside something like the straight lines long, very accurate rectangular hall. The Apothecary gestured at the crisply cut cellular walls.
 
“Thus, the only way this seems possible is to assume that the Brother-Librarian was not simply caught unaware or unconscious but, for some reason was either massively sedated and or perhaps allowed… or  maybe even willed… for Brother Gerhardt to perform this attack.” 
 
Another hand gesture. The eerie landscape of the Librarian’s damaged inner workings fell away beneath them. For a moment, the Kill-team found themselves once more drifting around the rotating full body image of Dendinius again. Then they plunged down again like a drop assault from near orbit as Amaras zoomed into another point of interest. They raced towards the curved surface of the Librarian’s inner arm.  There was a set of shuffling noise as some of the Astartes unconsciously braced for the impending impact.
 
“As Watch Captain Skaayn has already noted, there were no indications of a struggle or any sort of defensive action. And we could not find any further recent external injury during our examinations - except for this.” 
 
The image shot towards a slightly discoloured pinprick along the skin, then widened into a sort of crater which opened into a tunnel-like cavity as the hololithic projection rushed into ever higher levels of magnification.
 
“Again, this is an application of outside physical force with a combination of initial sharp and tearing force and resulting displacement. But it’s obviously on a much smaller area of impact and features a clear circular application along the trajectory. Please note the textural composition of the wound cavity, as opposed to what I have shown you before.”
 
Zidemi looked around and immediately saw what the Apothecary meant. His calling and expertise as a Techmarine allowed him an almost reflexive insight into an object’s material properties and as a native of Nocturne provided him ample experience with the insides of subterranean structures. So, even if there had not been any form of context regarding his surroundings, he would have been able to identify the tunnel-like structure they were now witnessing as something clearly created artificially. The lines too straight, edges too sharp. His expert senses easily found some imperfections. A few scratches here and there, some hint of circular lining around the walls, where something had unevenly scratched along the way like some form of drill, even a slight detour where it might have wobbled for a moment at some inconsistency or resistance in the material as the work advanced. This tunnel was still very precise and thus clearly artificial but nothing like the laser etched sharpness they’d seen before. This tunnel….  Zidemi blinked. While he had intellectually processed the information already, suddenly, he was very consciously aware of the fact that he was technically inside a bullet hole…
 
“… which was probably caused by the application of some sort of high velocity kinetic projectile of small dimensions and calibre.”
 
Amaras continued, then shrugged. 
 
“I am an Apothecary and certainly not a forensic adept. But if I had to guess, I’d put a high probability that this was caused prior to the sword wound and most likely by some sort of needle weapon. Again, we have the corresponding early haemodynamic and immunobharic reactions which imply that this injury certainly occurred in vivo.
 
So we now have two external injuries inflicted from the outside by force in relation to the death of Brother Dendinius.

 

Most importantly, however, I was able to extract traces of a bio-chemical compound from this wound’s termination point which correspond with others sampled during the progressive post-mortem corporeal and haemo-analytical bio-alchemical rituals. I revisited these findings and the  follow-up rituals again brought up these compounds in high contractions in various samples. They were especially plentiful among samples taken from various lines of supra- and trans-glomeric stratea of oolitic kidney tissues. Unfortunately, I was at first unable to identify this substance and could not not trace this to any substance in common use among the Apothecary of our Adeptus as it is not prescribed along the guidelines of the Codex Astartes.”
 
Amaras paused, looked up at Skaayn, then each of the other Astartes in turn.
 
“My current position as de facto Apothecary Primus of this Watchstation allows for some … liberties. This allowed me to broaden the search since I was able to establish partial access into the inquisitorial archives of the Bulwark.” 
 
He took a deep breath.
 
“I have thus been able to trace the alchemical compounds in question. They are in fact described as being employed in the creation and application in certain formula of high capacity verimeticae for use by operatives of the Ordos of HIS holy Inquisition.
 
As a substance, this is apparently a high capacity sedative and hypnoticum intended to induce a heightened state of suggestibility and tranquillity. It seems primarily intended for use during interrogations. In the form encountered here, it has also obviously been explicitly adapted for use on Astartesian physiology. “
 
Amaras paused, letting this part sink in.

 

“So we must assume that, at the time of his death, Brother-Librarian Dendinius was heavily sedated and under the influence of a substance used primarily by the Inquisition. But I am afraid that’s not all...” 
 
The Apothecary waved his hand. The display flickered and a slowly turning heraldic sigil of the Deathwatch replaced the anatomical hololithic imagery.
 
“Early diagnosticae screening  already suggested potential additional intra-cranial damage. But due to the already substantial loss of structural integrity, we opted for in toto dissection of the upper cervical structures and the entire head immediately after the initial exterior examinations, to be removed and kept in stasis until we finished the majority of the post mortem internal examination protocols. The light of the Emperor must have guided us in this.” 
 
Amaras looked even paler in the dim light of the hololith. He folded his hands over his armoured chest into the sign of the Aquila.
 
“Once we retrieved the Verizon-cranial remains from stasis lock later on, the very initial trans-cranial cross-section immediately revealed upon even preliminary visual inspection that the librarian’s brain had obviously been undergoing a series of massive, imminent and aggressively expanding phases of tera-genetic transmogrification.”
 
There was another pause. The Apothecary of the Charnel Guard seemed to chew on his lower lip for a moment, edges of pronounced, sharp eye teeth suddenly visible.
 
“Again, my actual experience and overall circle of initiation into the Arts of the Apothecarion in these matters is - quite literally - rather limited here. Also, we immediately had to halt any further investigation to limit potential further exposure upon these findings.
 
Again, being able to skim from some of this bastion’s more… exotic… resources proved unexpectedly helpful. So at least I can present my suspicions regarding these findings with a substantial level of credibility.” 
 
Closing his eyes again, the Apothecary apparently calmed his thoughts by trying to put the unspeakable into a phrasing of more technical, if still occult terms.
 
“Based on these findings, the process of transmogrification seems directly caused by at least imminent exposure, if not actual imminent influx of mutagenic empyrean energy. Most likely this was either directly or indirectly the result of some sort of exposition while under some sort of active psychic influence or usage of such an ability.”

 

There was at least one sharp intake of breath and a flurry of movement as several members of the kill team reflexively made signs of warding.
 
“Given the extent of this process, this rapid neoplasticismatic transformation alone would have been undeniably lethal to Brother Dendinius on its own and most likely in extremely short order. At best estimation, with the apparent velocity of this development and the substantial exponential displacement at hand, increase in substance and continuing deformation of the surrounding neural and osseous substances, I’d project a high probability that at the culmination of final cerebral system failure might have been then accompanied by a sudden event of uncontrolled trans-cranial extrusional displacement.”
 
Amaras opened his eyes again. He looked grim.
 
“Looking at all things combined and in all likelihood, this turn of events was only prevented and did not occur due to timing and deliberation of the excessive injuries inflicted on the brother librarian’s body by the action of Brother Gerhardt shortly before.” 
 
The Charnel Guard licked his lips.
 
“Upon its discovery, I had both the body and especially the remains of the upper cervical and cranial substance exhibits not only again stasis sealed but also placed under contra-empyric warding according to the essential rites regarding possible exposition or potential intrusion of empyrean energies. The servitor units used in the examination have been dismantled, their biological components cremated. The augmented components are undergoing continued cleansing as we speak in preparation for similarly warded isolation until a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus of sufficient standing can be contacted on further proceedings. Likewise, the medicae serf staff involved have undergone putative mind-scrubbing and are currently in isolation, undergoing the proscribed rites of cleansing and purification before possible stasis warding until their potential fate regarding to the level of potential exposure and resulting risk of moral and empyrean contamination can be judged by suitable means.”
 
Again, the hands of the Apothecary expressed the shape of the Imperial Aquila.
 
“The Emperor protects. Now. Sumis sumarum, from the findings of the post mortem examination rituals we can state that:

A - Brother-Librarian Dendinius was indeed killed by a deliberate intrusion of sharp edged physical force enhanced by the application of sub-atomantic energy. The application of said force was almost instantly lethal and appears to been designed and performed with the clear idea and intent of projecting said lethal force by taking into consideration not only the fact that the subject at hand was a member of the Adeptus Astartes but also strongly hints that the attacker was aware of an active level of psychic action and possibly empyrean influence occurring within the primary neural processing matter of the deceased battle-brother.
 
B - At the time of his death, it must be assumed that Brother-Librarian Dendinius was under the influence of at least one substance not regulated by the Codex Astartes. The substance in question has been documented as being used by adepts of the Ordos of HIS Holy Inquisition. Said substance must be assumed to have been explicitly selected or at least deliberately adapted for use on a member of the Adeptus Astartes. It was most likely of a highly sedative, hypnotic and pro-suggestive nature. Said substance was introduced to the deceased physiology prior to his death, from the outside and by external means, at close quarters or possibly over a short distance. The selected form involved in the application is also outside of the regulations of the Codex Astartes. The findings open up the possibility of said substance being applied or at least supplied by an outside party.
 
C - At the time of his death, the Brother-Librarian’s brain matter was in the process of undergoing a massive, imminent and aggressively expanding phase of tera-genetic transmogrification. Substantial evidence exists of this process of transmogrification being directly caused by at least imminent exposure, if not the actual imminent influx of a substantial amount of empyrean energies, in all likelihood either directly or indirectly caused due to some sort of direct exposition to or active use of some sort of psychic influence or use of psychic ability. Given the extent of this process, this rapid neoplasticismatic transformation alone would have been undeniably lethal on its own and in extremely short order. At best estimation, with the apparent velocity of this development and given the amount of substantial and exponential displacement, this increase in substance and assuming a continuing deformation of the surrounding neural and osseous substances would suggest that, at a very high probability, the state of final and terminal cerebral system failure might have been then accompanied by a sudden event of uncontrolled trans-cranial extrusional displacement, leading to to the explosive projection and exposition of physical as well as empyrean substances.
 
D - Further direct or indirect harm by such a sudden exposure to empyrean energy, up to including the potential influx of empyrean entities did in all likelihood only not occur due to timing, choice and application of the excessive injuries inflicted on the brother librarian’s body by the actions of Brother Gerhardt just shortly before this course of events.
 
E - The findings of these post mortem examination rituals can however not specify if the actions of Brother Gerhard were employed to consciously contain this chain of event with the intent of minimizing potential collateral physical and or empyreanic damage or if they were consciously intended to obscure the situation and the involvement of possible third parties by their potential reveal following such an event and the revelation of the extent of involvement of psychic and/or empyrean factors in this event by terminating the Brother Librarian beforehand by more obvious and clearly physical means.” 
 
Amaras let out a long breath. He looked at his assembled brothers. He realized he had very little experience on the outlook or expertise of the Astartes present.
 
“I assume you understand that this situation is grave. Let me put this in… less big words:

Yes. Brother Gerhardt killed the Librarian. With a very big sword. And while the Librarian was already drugged. With something used most often  by the Inquisition. And while his brain was being warped inside his skull and only had not yet exploded at the time because either Brother Gerhardt put a sword through his neck or someone had Brother Gerhardt put a very big sword through him just before it could explode.”
 
 Amaras growled.
 
“Emperor help me! This isn’t just a murder - this is either an assassination or a bloody miracle!”

 

 

[Lord_Ikka]

Moridyn

 

"Then is Brother Gerhardt truly the killer of Dendinius or is the one who drugged him the real killer? It seems that, no matter how or why, Gerhardt saved the watch-station from a possible warp event by killing the Librarian before it could occur. So the real question is who benefits from the death of a Deathwatch Librarian and the implication of another brother in his death, or even greater, who benefits from the possible killing of an entire watch-station from a rogue psychic event?"

 

Moridyn looked around the room.

 

"What part of the Inquisition is playing with our kill-team, and what do they really want?"

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

The Apothecary's report was thorough and well summised; a credit to Amaras' abilites. Yet, it seemed to have left the Kill Team with more questions than answers.

 

With the new information, many ideas and inquiries formulated in Zidemi's mind. He was no adept of physiology or the Empyrean, so he interrogated the lines of thought with logic and heuristics. Just as the Machine Cult had taught him. Naturally, his fellow battle-brothers began to instead question what individuals (or organisation) were behind such an act. Though valid, they needed to further process the Apothecary's data and establish the facts before they began their extrapolations.

 

"How 'suggestive' does the subject become when exposed to this toxin?" he asked Amaras. "Is it enough to persuade a veteran Librarian to open his mind to the dangers of the Warp? Or for an oath-bound Astartes to engage in fraticide?" 

 

The convenience and precision of the execution was a curiosity in itself, and Zidemi was certain that Gerhardt would not possess the knowledge to perform the act on his own volition. He continued with his inquiries. "Have we also inspected Gerhardt for a needle round entry point? Such ammunition has little penetrative capability against even the most primitive of armour plating, and Dendinius and Gerhardt were both... unlucky... to be wearing fatigues at the time."

 

At this point, Amaras had raised both his hands, clearly indicating to Zidemi that a pause was required to allow a response.

 

 

Edited May 17 by Mike Zulu

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

A smirk at the side-quip concealed with a roll of his lips, Azadth rolled his mind back to the morning, letting the information from the surgeon fill his mental cistern slowly. Thoughts turned to sitting with Gerhardt in his cell.

 

The boiling kettle still boiled, even though he watched it. When the steam banished the stink, Azadth took the small, battered kettle and poured into the two heavy bolter shell-cups. Each contained the spiced brew, and the aroma quickly brought him back home. A pinch of Yling, and the spirits of clarity would manifest.

 

'Drink with me, friend Gerhardt. Sip of life-water and stillness. Cleanse your palette and soul - confess to me all you remember.'

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

OOC: earlier, elsewhere, in the bowels of the Bulwark…

 

Gerhardt had worn his wrists and ankles bloody and raw where they chafed against the manacles. Kine had sent some of his lackeys down into the depths where he was held to torture him, using the armour interface ports which stood proud of his flesh to inflict pain upon him, pain which he would have possibly laughed at in the heat of battle, but now greedily drank in like a man dying of thirst. Pain was all he required while his punishment eluded him.

 

He had sinned against the Emperor, against his chapter, against his honour, now stained and broken. There would be no coming back this time. He hung his head in shame and sat despondent in the middle of the rough-hewn cell like a caged animal awaiting his doom.

 

The death of the psyker by his hand had shaken him to his core; he had put human and xenos witches to the sword many times in the past, but this was different. Not only had the Black Guard been a fellow astartes and sworn brother of the Deathwatch, but he had only the haziest memory of the deed. The entire thing had been like a waking dream.

 

And now Brother Azadth knelt before him beyond the bars of his cage, preparing water and some mix of herbs. Poison? An odd decision by the Watch-Captain if so. He prayed it would be fast-acting to end his misery. No, there were two “cups." Not poison then.

 

Crawling on hands and knees as permitted by his shackles like a dog, he looked sullenly through the enormous iron bars at the Mantle Warrior. 

 

“You have come to hear my sins, my confession, Brother Azadth? You are no chaplain, but… no matter…" 

 

He groveled before the seated astartes, gingerly cradling the bolt shell casing with both hands, and took a tentative sip of its contents. 

 

“There is a darkness in me, brother, a weakness. I see now why I was exiled from the chapter fleet: to exorcize this daemon, or die. I slew Brother Dendinius. I slew him after swearing to treat him as a sworn-brother, to accord him all due respect afforded by his rank. And I cut him down like an animal!" 

 

He angrily brooded and Azadth watched him in silence.

 

“I stabbed him in the back like some honorless assassin. I stole into his chambers under cloak of darkness and executed the psyker. But why?..." 

 

He paused again and sipped from the shell casing.

 

“A voice came to me in my sleep, speaking through others. I was dreaming of our battle with the orks. The slain warboss turned its head on its pike and belowed at me, ‘It must be done.’ The other xenos heads joined it in an unholy chorus, ‘It must be done. It must be done. It must be done.’ I hacked them apart until they fell silent, but then you, yes… you and the others formed a ring around me, all chanting, ‘It must be done. It must be done. It must be done.’" 

 

He took another sip, thinking again upon the strangeness of the dream.

 

“I thought it was the voice of the Emperor, reaching me across time and space. Now I do not know. I feel I cannot trust my own senses, my own thoughts. When you and the others confronted me, my sin, I felt I had just been roused from deep hypno-sleep, but I did not dream the deathblow. I did the deed. I slew the psyker." 

 

He fell silent and pushed the drained shell casing back between the bars.

 

“My thanks for your hospitality. Now leave me to my torment, and sully your own honor no longer with my presence." 

Edited May 17 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

The Mantis Warrior bowed, took the cups, before putting all things back on the tray. Gerhardt was mired in his own guilt, a fortress locked and barred from within, unassailable by any without permission of the architect. He smiled faintly at the prisoner, a man buried in the rubble of his own failure as an oathsworn brother, as a knight and loyal servant of his king.

 

A suspicion dawned. He left the Templar to his own misery and backed away, the tray carefully balanced.

 

+Was that worth it?+ supposed the Ordo Xenos Stormtrooper.

 

'More than you know. Tell me, son of man, what dark dreams lie upon your heart?'

 

Azadth didn't wait for an answer, instead, moving away in silence, smoothly.

 

++++++

 

The same smile took hold on his lips now. The questions he had were answered, and even as he listened to Amaras, the others were laying traps of their own. Now all he had to do, like any patient hunter, was wait for the pieces to fall into them.

 

Edited May 17 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

OOC: I'll answer Zidemi for Amaras there…

 

The Apothecary shrugs.

 

“I have been monitoring Brother Gerhardt, and have detected no signs of our mystery chemical in his system. As to the compound itself, I can identify its basic structure and describe its effects in broad strokes, but I cannot name the exact variant of the formula. Therefore, I currently have very few specifics to offer about it.”

 

The Watch-Captain has been staring at the still revolving hololith. Now he grunts.

 

“That won't do. Whatever we've learned so far, it isn't enough proof yet to earn a pardon for the Templar, and we've already lost more than a sixth of our three days. I know there’s a Chymistry Laboratorium three levels down, out along the southern spur. It's jointly run by the Ordos and the Mechanichus. I want someone to go see if they can tell us anything more about this drug.”

 

He looks blackly at Moridyn.

 

“Xenos? Hereticus? Kine? His friends? His enemies?”

 

He shakes his head.

 

“I'm more concerned about the possibility of a psy-based attack. I'd have asked Dendinius to look into it… but with him gone, we're blind…”

 

 

 

[Xin Ceithan]

Amaras

 

”It seems reasonable that I should be among those who would go to inspect the chymistry facilities in question.” 
 

The Apothecary looked at Skaayn. 
 

“Unless you want me to have a more thorough  look at the state of Brother Gerhardt at this  time,  naturally, Watch Captain.”

[Lysimachus]

Amaras: Skaayn nods.

 

“It seems logical. Unless you feel there is a need to examine Gerhardt further?”

 

 

Spoiler

OOC: By that I mean you're free to do whichever you think is best?

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

When Skaayn-Khan and the Apotheary finished speaking, Azadth told the assembled Marines all Gerhardt said, before summing up his own perspective.

 

'The old blood on the ground means nothing. We should follow the trail of spilled venom, before it dries up.'

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

The scorpion had not allowed the witch, or rather what remained of him, to stray from his sight since the discovery. The taint had been unmistakable and had he sensed it about the librarian earlier his response would have been no different to Gerhardts. but the denial troubled him.

 

Hours passed, the apothecary droned on at length on the nature of the wounds while discounting the one question that mattered. The shadows of the war on Vanity followed him even here.

 

"The Templar must be questioned, if he was the puppet of another his will is suspect. He must be made to remember before another might cover their tracks." Memories of the crusade still fresh, a librarian of the Storm Wardens caught between the world and the warp calling upon his brothers to free him in death... suffer not the witch to live.

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

Zidemi knew from experience that "outsiders" were not privy to the knowledge of the various Machine Cult adepts. "If I may Brother Amaras," he said to his fellow Astartes, "I will join you in this endeavour to the chymistry laboratory. Answers may be more forthcoming if another devotee of the Omnissiah were present."

[Trokair]

Alda

 

Was it too late to wish for a return to the weeks of study and preparations Alda asked herself. In just a few days she had been in battle, drawn into a potential internal affairs investigation and now there had been a murder of one of the Einherjar.

 

Jarl Skaayn had called his flock to hear the report from Amara’s own lips. She had already skimmed through it. In fact the data slate in her pocked with a copy of the Librarians Autopsy was her justified reason for being here.

 

Huskarl Aykawa was occupied elsewhere, she had cheeked that carefully, and Lord Kine was down in the dungeon again, to ‘question’ the Templar she assumed, especially while Jarl Skaayn was occupied.

 

Consulting her gear and stealing one last look around to ensure that there were no menials or serfs nearby she turned the corner and headed for the Lord Inquisitors personal quarters.

 

Spoiler

Awareness Test

Per: 48 + 20 (Awareness +20)=68

D100: 78 ...

 

[Urauloth]

Váfri
 

Poison and witchcraft. Just what he might have expected to find in a fortress of the Inquisition, he reflected dourly, but he kept the thought to himself. There would be little point to such complaints anyway: He had volunteered himself to be here. If that had been a mistake, it was too late to rectify it, his oath held him fast. All he could do was try to help his newfound brothers get to the bottom of whatever was happening.

 

Listening to the Apothecary's report confirmed his suspicion that warp-trickery was involed somehow, but the nature of it was beyond him. He was more than happy not to understand such things most of the time, but right now it made the reality of the situation more opaque.

 

"Would he have known? Dendinius, I mean. The... thing that was happening to his mind."
He felt annoyed at the awkwardness of his own question. He understood what rapid neoplasticismatic transformation meant in a physical sense, and he had no desire to sound as though he'd failed to grasp what Amaras had said. He scarcely knew how to phrase questions concerning the non-physical implications, though.

"He'd have been aware of it? The danger?"

 

He was groping in the dark. The Mantis Warrior was right, better to follow the trail of poison. Just the thought of the Warp made him wish he was wearing his armour. He missed its talismans, even if the ceramite offered little defence against maleficarum.

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

A Murder?

 

Whom, he wondered. The medicae serfs were not about so much lately, so he didn't here more gossip.

 

 

Murder no it was not his or his [Redacted] way.

 

More Stinging Pain!

 

Suit emitters continually blared out the Inquisitional Message,

 

 

"You are alone. You serve the Emperor. Your [Redacted - Chapter] does not exist. The [Redacted - Chapter] never existed. By order of the High Lords of Terra!"

 

 

Ad Nauseam three whole minutes to drive the point home.

 

 

Enough to cause him to think of murdering someone. No he was past that, he was enhanced, he was rage. But...

 

 

The pain conditioning enabled him to remember the gang fights in the dark.

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Skaayn frowns thoughtfully.

 

“Aye, Brother Azadth, I agree. Brother Zidemi, if it makes the Mechanichus more helpful, that might be wise. Brother Omoc, if you think you can get more out of Gerhardt, feel free to try. I've got one other idea to look into…”

 

His frown becomes a grimace when the Space Wolf then speaks.

 

“I think the simple truth is we don't know, Brother Vafri. You're right, though, we can't afford to ignore that aspect of this mess. But as I said, we're blind, and I'm not so sure there are any psykers I would trust to help us answer those questions here on Alucar? Interrogator Aykawa has a touch of it, apparently. There are a few others on the Bulwark’s permanent staff, astropaths and such… wait a minute…”

 

His too-black eyes suddenly open wide.

 

“Brother Aednan.”

 

***

 

Alda: There are a pair of Stormtrooper guards at the entrance to Kine's quarters, but your rank is sufficiently above theirs that they do not even question your right to go within.

 

You enter into a set of grand staterooms, high ceilinged and bright with tall windows. From their corner position on one of the upper levels of the Bulwark, you are able to see a spectacular view out across the mountains to both north and east. A pair of wide double doors open out onto a wide stone balcony. Within the main chamber there is a variety of finely made furniture, carved and gilded chairs and desks, as well as many ornaments and paintings.

 

An elderly, rather frail looking man in the robes of a personal manservant stands in the doorway of what you can just see is the bedchamber, several freshly pressed frock coats over his arm.

 

“Apologies, Adept. Lord Kine is not presently in residence. Can I assist you in some way?”

 

 

[Trokair]

Alda

 

Entering had been easy enough, though with the troopers outside Lord Kine would know for sure that she had been here, something she had hoped to avoid, but as she could not she may as well play into that.

 

She had seen the elderly valet almost immediately, but was slow to turn towards him so as to see more of the room. Letting her gaze sweep over the stateroom, trying to look at everything in detail, without staring at anything in particular.

 

“Thank you...” she trailed of in such a way as to give the man an opportunity to fill in his name.

 

“Given recent events I thought it best to seek to speak with the Lord himself, do you think he will be long?”

 

Indicating a set of chairs of to one side.

 

“May I wait here for his return?   

 

 

 

Spoiler

Scrutiny – The elderly man

Per:48

D100: 37, Pass, 1DoS

 

Search (Visual only) room for anything of interest

Per: 48 +10 (Search +10) = 58

D100: 39, Pass, 1 DoS

 

Evaluate (visual only) content of room for anything significantly above or below apparent value

Int: 48 + 10 (Evaluate +10) = 58

D100: 56, Pass

 

[Lysimachus]

Alda: The old man smiles.

 

“Of course, my dear. Though I fear it will be some hours before he returns. My Lord Kine is very busy getting ready for his latest expedition. Apologies, I am Adjutant 1st Lieutenant Thaddeus Colbeck.”

 

He salutes, and though it is hidden by age and a stoop, you might notice that Thaddeus still has something of the bearing of a military officer.

 

As you covertly survey the contents of the grand chamber, you would notice that most of the decorations relate in some way to Mankind's victories over the hated xenos. A long rifle, mounted with sharp blades at either end, is displayed as some sort of trophy. A cluster of gemstones, each one in a gold setting and marked with alien runes, hang from an elegant candle stand. A suit of armour of indiscernible origin is studded and wrapped about with Imperial purity seals, the long streamers obscuring the xenos plate and declaring the magnificence of the Emperor. A huge painting shows an artist's depiction of an Imperial battle line of tanks and troopers forcing their way into an Ork settlement.

 

Thaddeus notices your eyes pass over the painting. He speaks, lost in memory.

 

“The Purging of Menara Primus. A grand day that. Ninety-two years gone, and still as fresh in my mind as if it were yesterday! Though it cost most of my regiment, we prevailed. Lord Kine led us in himself, shared the kill of the Warboss with our melta teams. That man has been a thorn in the side of the Alien menace for centuries!”

 

His wrinkled face hardens, though he continues, lost in his own thoughts.

 

“Let the naysayers speak as they will. Whatever threat is at Dorghra, he will vanquish it. My Lord will be himself again. All will be as it should be.”

 

 

[Trokair]

Alda

 

It certainly was a rousing painting, taking a few steps to get a closer look, while no straying too far from Thaddeus, she mused out loud. 

 

 “So,... if I look really close one of the Guard will be your younger self.”

 

 

After a little while longer Alda made a show of looking at her chronometer.

 

“Perhaps you are right, and it would be better to come back later. I had come here because I thought it best to speak with Lork Kine directly, and was prepared to wait if need be. There is however waiting for a cause and wasting time needlessly, and given that I am to head to Dorghra myself preparations will be key to a victorious return, especially if our lord has been unwell as you say.”

 

 

“Will you be joining us and sally forth once more to slay the xenos?”