Deathwatch: Murderers in Black (IC Thread)

[Lysimachus]

Alda: Colbeck smiles and inspects the painting again, as though seeing it anew.

 

“Hmm, I suppose it could be me at that… though I'm afraid those days are long past for me, my dear. Now all I can manage is to keep my Lord's shirts pressed, but if that is all I can do in his and the Emperor's service, then I will do it proudly.”

 

His brow wrinkles further.

 

“Unwell, you say? No, not at all! Some fools claim he's been distracted, even lethargic or disinterested, ever since he returned from that joint operation with the Ordo Hereticus to the Hives of Corellageon. I say he perhaps needed some time to rest, but who could blame him? The destruction of the Xenos is noble work, but the very need for the Ordo Hereticus to exist should be a source of shame to every man, woman and child born to Humanity! A dirty, dirty task!”

 

The loyal old adjutant claps his hands weakly but enthusiastically.

 

“But no matter! This business at Dorghra seems to have lit the fire in my Lord's belly once more. His zeal is as strong as it ever was! He will uncover the threat and destroy it, I am sure! And yes, my dear, if you are privileged to accompany him, you must also be ready. Go, go, I will tell him you came by.”

 

***

The rest: Aarval points.

 

“Someone else, get down to the deepest level of the Bulwark, the old caverns. I hope you'll find a very old acquaintance of mine. Or perhaps one of his brethren? After all, it was a very long time ago, two hundred years or more. He wasn't Deathwatch, he was…” Skaayn pauses, unwilling to reveal secrets that are not his to share,  “something else… but I'd stake all our lives on him being absolutely trustworthy, and he had certain… abilities. If there was an element of psy interference last night maybe he might be able to tell us more about what really happened?”

 

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Scene 3: Inquiries

 

The Laboratorium is a series of glistening chambers of glass and plasteel, set into the rocky caverns of the Bulwark but hermetically sealed so that they are an entirely separate environment. Scientific equipment is neatly laid out along narrow benches, machinery dedicated to the analysis and synthesis of all manner of chemicals that might be useful to the Most Holy Inquisition.

 

An armaglas airlock provides entry to the first chamber, where several figures work quietly, moving occasionally from bench to bench. Some are clad in the red robes of the Mechanichus, others in black or grey. It is one of the latter that approaches you first, a thin, nervous man with hair as grey as his robe.

 

“Unusual to see the Deathwatch down here in person. I am Adept Carston. How may we assist you? Some problem with the prototype tox-munition rounds we issued for testing?”

 

 

***

 

 

When you approach the narrow tunnel deep beneath the Bulwark, just as before the giant appears, lit only by the bright blue edge of his primary weapon.

 

However, after a moment, the silver-clad warrior moves the long spear from a guard position into a one-handed rest, held upright with the butt against the cavern floor and the deadly blade shining above his head. His slab-featured helm cants to one side in what seems like curiosity.

 

“Welcome, brothers of the Long Vigil. With regret, I cannot allow you to come any closer… but perhaps we might speak together for a time?”

 

 

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

Zidemi recalled such a prototype trial from his data-mine of the Forge’s cogitator banks. It was something his predecessor had overseen, and one of many tasks that would require Zidemi's attention once he returned to the Forge. The trial made reference to bolt round ammunition where its core was replaced with an inert shell filled with liquid known as "spirit of fluoroantimonate", reputed to be incredibly corrosive and mutagenic. Though he relished the prospect of discussing munitions chymistry with the serf, he was determined to stay on task. 

 

“Greetings, Adept Carston. I am Techmarine Zidemi, and this is Apothecary Amaras. We are still collating data on that prototype, and will revert with our findings in due course,” he stated with finality on the subject, before gesturing in deference to Amaras. “We are here to discuss another matter, that my brother is better suited to explain, given its properties."

 

Spoiler

OOC Technobabble: "Spirit of fluoroantimonate" = fluoroantimonic acid, the most corrosive acid known to exist.

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

He offered a bow to Agha Skaayn and made his way to the refectory, looking for the galley serfs. He stood aside as a caravan of humans took out fresh bowls and utensils for those that preferred them, matched only by a troop of bottle-washers and porter heaving the dirty covers out for placing into the sinks and autoclaves. Sides of grox and other fauna-meat of the world and beyond were being cured with salt or smoke, then hung for storage in the deep cellars.

 

Azadth tailgated the last serf going in, and emerged into the actual kitchen and emerged into a press of steam and colloquial invective as the meals were readied for the Xenos officers and stormtroopers, the higher echelons used to a certain standard. Being on good terms with the cooks was always a good idea.

 

A serf serving in a station for vegetables looked up, saw him. 'Thone, you startled me, lord.' At the word, the kitchen slowed, to a crawl.

 

Washing his hands, before gently pushing onto the vegetables station, Azadth drew the Khukurai he set to rapid chopping.

 

'I came to thank you,' Azadth began, well-worn smile in place. 'Armies march on their stomach, do they not?'

 

Some nods, polite smiles, as he quickly diced an Iskbrag head. A zesty, flavoured lettú, it was the staple of a cold repast. Then he shredded another, and another, filling the bowl with fresh leaves. The station serf was supplying him, now running to keep up with the rapid-fire floracide.

 

Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop.

 

'Tell me, who prepared the repast for lord Skaayn and our party last eve? Who bore it to the the oubliette?'

 

Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop.

 

Edited May 25 by Mazer Rackham
Shpellung wrogn

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

Omoc stood aside as the others moved to see the weapon, his mind still on Gerhardts words as he walked to the mission archives... normally the task of a techmarine but in this case little more was needed than battle recordings. Of Dendinius there was little save his oath and records of the training cages but only four words were needed, "it must be done".

 

Had the witch called for his own execution? The words were assembled crudely onto a vox-slate, perhaps it would clear the Templars memory if indeed it was confusion and not guilt and shame over the implications of such weakness.

 

And onto the cells. There would be no pleasantries nor discussion of motives for the Scorpion, the words would either shake Gerhardts memory or play out as a constant reminder of his guilt.

[Ancient_Sobek]

Bekkar 

 

Bek looked upon the strange figure before him.

 

”Pardon the intrusion “ he started, “ I know not if you are aware of the events that have transpired, but there has been a murder that may have involved psychic malfeasance. As our librarian was the victim of this cowardly action we are in need of someone with experience in the mystic arts that might aid our investigation. The watch captain thought there may be someone here in the catacombs that could assist us.”

 

He tried to maintain an air of professionalism, but internally he was angry and conflicted. The apothecary’s debrief had raised more questions than answers. Was the Templar guilty, just a pawn, an unwitting hero for stopping a psychic outbreak?  Did it matter? Regardless of the circumstances he had still murdered his friend.

 

He returned his attention to the imposing figure before him.

 

”Can you direct us to this sage?”

Edited May 26 by Ancient_Sobek

[Trokair]

Alda

 

While she had failed in having a look round the Inquisitors quarters by herself, the trip had not been a waste. The joint operation with the Ordo Hereticus, never a good sign, even amongst the Inquisitions own, and whatever happened in Hives of Corellageon may have been a start of the current situation. Though what ‘this’ was was far from clear. At least now she had a tread to pull on.

 

She had not had much reason to do so until now, having always had other data slates to work trough in her months of study and preparation, she had noted that the cogitator in her chambers was connected to the Inquisitorial archive, or at least some parts of it. Time to see if she had clearance for Hive Corellageon.

 

Spoiler

Forbid Law Inquisition

Int:48

D100: 11, Pass 3 DoS

 

Some while later, forced to pause as yet another data inloading protocol from the main archives to her cogitator retrieved data that might be of use she caught sight of the spine of one of the many books she had been provided with. Not a volume she had read cover to cover, but she had leaved through aplenty. It was one of several volumes of The Collected Bestiaries, Armouries and Histories of Xenos. Skimming the index out of curiosity, perhaps the was a entry on the bladed rifle she had seen.

 

Spoiler

Forbid Law Xenos

Int:48

D100: 08, Pass 4 DoS

 

[Lysimachus]

Azadth: One of the cooks, a big, rough bruiser of a man who is dwarfed by the sudden appearance of an Astartes in his kitchen, diffidently raises his hand.

 

“It's only one shift here, m'Lord. We were all on duty yesterday. Let’s see, midday meal was delivered down to the training caverns, evening meal was sent over to the smaller refectory within your Watchstation.”

 

He pauses, then continues in a rush.

 

“M'Lord, if this is about the morning and midday meals not being delivered to your refectory today, it's not our fault! We brought them as far as the Watchstation boundary, but the security ident-readers in the door-portals must be on the fritz because we couldn't gain access. I've been on to the techs about it, but no one seems to have looked into it yet?”

 

***

Bekkar: “Watch-Captain? That would be young Aarval, so I hear? Hmm, a very pragmatic sort - if he has not changed in the last two hundred years, that is. I can see why he might seek my assistance, for I do have some ‘experience in the mystic arts’.”

 

Brother Aednan carefully removes his helm and takes a deep breath. His features are patrician, his eyes a pale green, but his face is calm, open, even friendly… but at the same time troubled.

 

“I was… aware… that something was happening above. I am honour bound not to leave my post, but for a few moments I was… considering… whether the matter was becoming serious enough that I must do so. Please, tell me all that you know of what has occurred, and I will do my best to assist you.”

 

***

Alda: Your research would reveal the following facts about Corellageon: It is a Hive World, positioned at the intersection of two key warp routes. As such, it is wealthy, cosmopolitan and well equipped with substantial orbital docking facilities. More specifically, in recent decades it has been riven by political dissent and infighting, terrorist attacks and even a handful of ambushes against Imperial military assets. All of these are thought to have been backed by a Secessionist movement among the upper echelons of the planetary nobility.

 

This would typically be outside the remit of the Ordo Xenos, but records show that an Ordo Hereticus cell investigating on Corellageon contacted Lord Inquisitor Kine to ask for his assistance because the Secessionists were suspected to be allying themselves with alien auxiliaries. Whether this was a political union, or simply financial, was unknown at the time.

 

Kine's own notes in the aftermath of the operation are very brief, stating that the Secessionist Cult was finally rooted out, destroyed along with a force of Aeldari. Kine's assessment is that they were paid mercenaries rather than true allies.

 

The weapon hanging in the Inquisitor's staterooms is identifiable as a Drukhari ‘splinter rifle’. Whether this is a trophy from Corellageon, or from some other investigation, is unknown.

 

***

Omoc/Gerhardt: OOC: I'm happy for you guys to play out your interaction as you wish. If anything that is said or done brings anything back to Gerhardt's mind, I'll PM Necronaut?

 

Zidemi/Amaras: OOC: I'll pause a bit before answering to let Xin add anything he wants (or shove a placeholder in if it’s easier?)

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

He sensed more than heard the presence of another Space Marine close by. Caught a draught of the icy Northman.

 

'It is well you mentioned that, for my brother comes now, likely ravenous for both explanation and missed victuals.'

 

Azadth ceased labour and moved to carefully clean, and strop the blade.

[Urauloth]

Váfri

 

Instead of heading straight to the refectory, the Grey Hunter - still feeling the absense of his talismans - briefly returned to his cell. While his armour was being treated for gunshot damage by the Bulwark's kaerls, several of its trophies, apotropaics and oath-stones had been removed. They hung on their cords from a rack in his chamber, along with the pelts that normally adorned his plate.

When he collected it from the armoury he would put them all back in place, but for now he selected one, adjusted the leather cord, and hung it around his neck. It was a piece of rock almost as large as a man's palm, taken from Fenris, chiselled flat on one side and marked with Morkai's rune. He had carved it himself. Either side of it hung the fangs of a wolf. Instead of rattling as it did when he was armoured, its weight pulled it down into the furs he wore over his simple robe.

 

"Better," he muttered. On the ice, his tribe had long believed the glare of the Death-wolf was a deterrent to witches and necromancers. Besides that, he felt more like himself for wearing it. Suitably warded, he strode out towards the refectory, intending to lend his keen senses to the hunt for poison.

 

He was not entirely surprised to find the Mantis Warrior there ahead of him when he arrived. Azadth was fast, and he got about quietly. He took in the sights of the refectory to form a first impression, and found it wasn't bad. A good selection of meats, for a start, and they looked like they were curing well, if you liked that sort of thing. Not as good as roasting them over a firepit, but it didn't look like they had one of those here. Perhaps he could set one up outside if they had time? No, he hadn't come here to think about roast meats.

 

"How goes it, brother? Did you find anything?"

 

Noticing that Azadth was stropping his blade, he cracked a lopsided grin and asked in jest, "Were you cooking?"

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

Azadth genuinely smiled, offering the Space Wolf an amused glance of his unnaturally emerald eyes. 'Only if you count unskilled butchery.'

 

He quietly re-iterated the information from the kitchen staff, crouching to open a blast oven. A searing waft of heat erupted into the room as he withdrew a basting casket with his bare hands, placing it with a solid bump onto the reinforced prep bench. He cracked the lid, and the roiling steam of well-cooked meat pervaded the immediate section of the kitchen, revealing a large haunch of grox, the skin crisped and crackled evenly, the juices flowing clear.

 

Azadth returned to Váfri with subvocal tremble, eyes flicking to the serfs to see who was paying attention. 'I suspect the security doors were correctly closed in protocol to mitigate...intrusion. Although, it would allow a man freedom to conceal his actions.'

 

He ran a long probe into the succulent grox meat, which withdrew clean and steaming. He looked at the sharp, needle point with narrowed eyes.

 

'We should discuss this further elsewhere, brother, as I suspect the truth of this lies closer to home.' He sampled the meat, made a face. 'It would be unwise to risk our only talented kitchen staff.'

[Xin Ceithan]

Amaras

 

“Adept Carston”  

 

The Charnel Guard had kept his eyes on the serf while the Techmarine relayed delivered the  introduction.

 

”We are here on the authority of Watch-Captain Skaayn. We will perform a full inspection on the status regarding the production and deployment of a specific hypno-verimeticum and its alchymestrian compounds, beginning immediately. This..”

 

The Apothecary keyed in a sequence on his diagnosticae gauntlet, calling up the details.

 

”..is the compound in question.”

 

A line of words alchemical symbols appeared on the screen.

 

  “This is a matter of the highest sensitivity and priority, as it is interfering  with the  primary  duty and deployment of  the  Deathwatch kill-team of the Bulwark.
The inspection will begin immediately. As the current Apothecarius Primus, I expect you and your staff to cooperate fully and without delay.”

[Lysimachus]

The harried-looking Adept looks even more harried, and glances towards a red-robed Magos who is approaching from another chamber at a rapid pace. Though she is a smaller woman, her demeanour is firm and she does not seem entirely happy with your manner.

 

“Magos Biologus-Chymistrus Eleandor Theta-Nine-Rho. Be clear, Master Apothecary, I have great respect for the Deathwatch and I will do what I can to assist you… but whatever your rank, this Laboratorium and its staff are not under your jurisdiction. I command here.”

 

She looks at the scrolling lines of alchemical code, blink-clicks, and turns to walk away.

 

“Captured. It will take approximately twenty-eight minutes for proper analysis. Wait there."

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

Moving past Váfri a moment, he found the vox-com just beside the refectory door into the kitchen, where orders would come through for deliveries and production. He'd gone there not to amass evidence, but to exclude it. The build-up of the toxin in Dendinius' liver would have taken time, especially with the Oolitic Kidney. Anyone could have handled the food after it was dropped off, but with no way to ensure the target, it was a shotgun approach unless doped at the last minute. Risky. Could have been a contact poison, but what if Dendinius was in harness? Ineffective.

 

Azadth harmonised the frequencies and accessed the Squad vox net, still staring at the wickedly sharp probe from the grox-haunch, spoke into the capture-bell whilst slipping the bead-talker into his left ear. If anyone was listening - bar Váfri with his Space marine faculties - they'd get a garbled, half-conversation.

 

+Amaras, Azadth. Was there any contact bruising around the needle puncture on Dendinius?+

 

There were a handful of possibilities, and Amaras could answer them all with one word.

 

Edited May 29 by Mazer Rackham
Cleanup

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

Zidemi winced at the Apothecary’s attempt to impose authority. The Magos’ response was not surprising. He knew full well that the Adeptus Mechanicus operated under their own jurisdiction, and were not afraid to assert their own Emperor-given authority.

 

“It is appreciated, Magos. We shall wait,” Zidemi replied.  He waited for her to move sufficient distance away, before speaking to his fellow battle-brother in confidence.

 

“Like us, Brother Amaras, the Mechanicus are loyal to the Imperium foremost,” he began, opting to avoid mention of the Omnissiah specifically. “Before us is the intersection of three Adepts: Astartes, Mechanicus, Inquisition. Each exist by the Emperor’s sanction and act towards the same ends, albeit from different directions. My time on Mars has taught me that negotiation, rather than dictation, will achieve greater results.”

+++

 

As they waited for the prescribed twenty-eight minutes, Zidemi became curious as to what the Mechanicus were working on presently. He visually inspected the closest bench operated by another red-hooded adept. He appeared to be synthesising an oily compound in an air-sparged glass vat by combining two liquids, both viscous and one of which fumed on standing. For what purpose, Zidemi was not certain, but allowed himself to admire the great work carried out before him.

 

Spoiler

OOC Technobabble: the Adept’s process vaguely describes the manufacture of nitroglycerine, an explosive and medicine.

 

[Xin Ceithan]

Amaras

“I see” 

The Apothecary shot Zidemy a sideways glance.
He recalled  hushed conversations among the senior brethren of his chapter, especially those who addressed the needs of those venerable brothers whose service inside their armored dreadnaught shells came as close as possible to the service eternal the Emperor had imposed upon himself.  The Heresy. The Starfall. The Machindeath. The twice blinded Eagle. Tempus Interegios.  Dark times in which the Charnel Guard had been called upon to visit the Emperor’s justice on those who had been found wanting, those who had claimed allegiance to the Imperium but had failed in  both their actions and their devotion.  Amaras wondered if and what other Chapters recalled of these and similar events. But they had all sworn  their Oaths… He swallowed a derisive remark. 
 

“By HIS light, all will be revealed”.

 

Amaras eyes  darted back and followed the Magos. He bit down on his lip.
 

“Soon..” 

 

[Lord_Ikka]

Moridyn

 

Moridyn had stayed quiet, as was his wont, during the briefing and then dispersal of the kill-team to various areas. He was not an investigator or tracker, nor a medic, so he followed Bekkar down to the caverns to see who Skaayn believed could help. 

 

A giant Astartes in odd silver armor, and clearly a psyker of some sorts but note with the tell-tale markings and coloring of one of the Librarius? Moridyn had heard rumors of chapters of the Space Marines dedicated to esoteric battles and warfare, and here was clearly one such. Very well, it was time to inform him of the problems above.

[Mazer Rackham]

OOC: The GM has given me some answers to move us on from 40k board relevant and international relations improvement posts...

 

Azadth:

 

Amaras culled the channel curtly, sounding as though he was chewing an irritating pebble, and Azadth replaced the comms units.

 

'I am glad to see your wyrdward,' he said to Váfri, jerking his chin at the Fenrisian amulet, 'Amaras has given me a few things to ponder. We must visit Dendinius' chambers, where more of this will be revealed. I could use your help.'

 

He cleared his throat, looked at the kitchen staff, back to the Space Wolf.

 

'We must sequester the grox haunch there - for testing. Amaras wants a sample. My apologies to the Ordo Xenos mess hall, of course.'

 

Azadth met Váfri's eye. He winked.

Edited May 31 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Amaras/Zidemi: Magos Eleandor returns, right on time, just under thirty minutes later.

 

“Simpler to identify than I thought, a compound already in our catalogues. VT097.65. Enhanced opioid-derivative. Interesting one - I recollect studying it some years ago. An interrogation drug, a rare one, sometimes used by Ordo Hereticus operatives. It is a relaxant, causing an immediate and total loss of motor skills, but also lowers mental barriers, making a subject compliant, truthful. Powerful, fast acting, designed for use on targets that had proven resistant to the more common truth drugs; mutants, gene-hanced underworlders, the like.”

 

She looks thoughtfully up at your Deathwatch gear, seemingly curious about the reason for your interest.

 

“I suppose you might be able to use it against the physically tougher xeno-species, too, though I am not aware of it having been previously employed in that way?”

 

***

 

Bekkar/Moridyn: Aednan listens solemnly as you lay out the events of the last twenty-four hours. Finally he nods.

 

“I see. It fits with what I felt. A psychically gifted mind, a powerful one, was momentarily freed of all restraint. Unwillingly, or so it seemed to me at the time? Your Codicier Dendinius, I now believe.”

 

“An unfettered mind is a beacon in the Empyrean, an extremely dangerous thing. It can - and likely will - draw all manner of warp entities to itself. It can cause a… rupture, spilling all those horrors out into realspace. Or allow them to possess the mind of the psyker. That was what made me consider if I must intervene. Your Codicier was calling out for help, his mind slipping further and further into… chaos. He knew he could not control his power any longer. The psionic potential for a breach was growing with every second.”

 

***

[Lord_Ikka]

Moridyn

 

"Do you believe that the Codicier was calling for his own death, that he was beyond saving? Could he have summoned a brother in their rest and made them commit a murder without their own knowledge?"

 

Moridyn was troubled. Psyker matters were not something he delved into, he had no gifts for the empyrean. This giant in chased silver plate clearly did though and his words would best be heeded. 

Edited May 31 by Lord_Ikka

[Xin Ceithan]

Amaras

 

„Thank you Magos. This has been  most informative“

 

The Apothecary nodded, tight lipped.

He took a look at Zideny and drew on the rock-like calm projected by the Techmarine.

A thin line of blood had formed where Amaras had literally bitten down on both his lip and his growing  impatience while the Magos droned out  little more than what his own research had uncovered. Heresy was afoot and this Martian…

He once more remembered  Zidemy‘s  words and swallowed a derisive comment. It burned down his throat and tasted like copper.

 

Fixing his eyes on the Techpriest, he forced a thin smile instead and said :

“And I’d  very much  like to discuss these potential uses further. Ideally with someone who might have possibly gathered some experience in the field already?
Has  VT097.65 been requested or been deployed by anyone serving within the Watch-Fortress? And if so, who by whom most recently?”

[Trokair]

Alda

 

Alda leaned back in her chair a little as she thought through the two nuggets of information. Eldar mercenaries and a trophy in the form of a splinter rifle, a weapon favoured by Eldar raiders and pirates. Such elements of the Xenos acting as mercenaries seemed entirely compatible. Especially if the secessionists of Corellageon were paying in resources or slaves, as she doubted the Xenos would have much to buy with Thrones.

 

The Lord Kine’s report was hardly a reliable source if he had indeed been afflicted with some malady there. Huskarl Aykawa was also unlikely to be forth coming, and old Thaddeus probably had not been there. However perhaps some others had? Going back to the archives she worked the cogitator to look up service records of other inquisitorial personal, such as the Storm Troopers, that might have been there.

 

Spoiler

Not sure what test is most appropriate here, options:

Tech-Use, Literacy, Logic  and/or Search Target: 58

Inquiry Target: 47

Interrogation: 39

Common Lore: Deathwatch, Imperium, Tech, Administratum, Ecclesiarchy, Machine Cult, Adeptus Arbites and/or Forbidden Lore: Inquisition Target: 48

Trade: Copyist, Scrutiny Target: 48

 

One D100 roll: 63

So looks like all skills Alda has that might be relevant are a fail on that roll..

Edited May 31 by Trokair

[Urauloth]

Váfri

 

He caught Azadth's wink and returned it. The Mantis Warrior was quite right, sampling the Grox haunch was a very good idea. Turning to the staff, he added, "Indeed. Oher than that, we'll let you get back to it."

 

"To the Codicier's quarters, then, brother," he said to Azadth.

 

He didn't relish the idea of visiting the living quarters of a warp-caller very much. He would, he decided, touch as few things in there as the duty of investigation permitted.

 

"You recognise this as a ward against witchcraft," he said to Azadth, "do your people also make them?"

Another possibility occured as he asked the question. Perhaps it was Morkai's mark specifically the Mantis Warrior had recognised. "Have you met other sons of Fenris before?"

 

He knew the chapter had worked with the Vlka, even visited the Aett. Old Orm Throat-biter had met one of them once, though he said the outworlder was so quiet it was hard to form an impression of him.

 

Váfri began to quicken his pace. If they were going to the Codicier's former abode, better to get it over with as soon as possible.

Edited May 31 by Urauloth

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

He snatched up a ball of parcelling string before they left the kitchen, and listened to Váfri's questions as they waled and talked, united by purpose, though divided blood.

 

'We carve sigils of protection, calling the Sky Khan to watch over us. They serve as warning to mortal and immortal alike, but the deepest wards we put into our souls.' Azadth turned to regard his Grey Hunter companion as they made purposeful, strides in lockstep. 'I took heads alongside the men of Fenris once in a xenocide. Khan Russ breeds doughty hetmen.'

 

They reached the door to the Black Guard's cell. Azadth rolled his sleeve up to fold over his shoulder, and dabbed a wet fingertip to the wall, taking some of the pumice from the ancient stone, and dabbing it onto his bicep roughly where the wound on the Librarian was. He then trussed the end of the parcel string around his right arm, tying the knot close to the mark.

 

He passed the string though the window lattice, and once more glancing at the wyrdward on the Space Wolf's chest, stepped within and closed the door, keeping the sturdy oak panels to his left. Váfri allowed the string to play out, until Azadth reached the spot Dendinius had died. He nodded and the sisal string was pulled taut and straight, to track tightly across his right pectoral. Almost level. This was wrong.

 

Azadth changed position to an upright kneel, put his hands out further as though grasping a sword, point down, as the pious warriors preferred.

 

'Step inside, brother,' he called softly. 'Try a few angles until the string is clear of my chest, and you can see the mark.'

 

OOC: I'll PM @Urauloth the details for further interaction.

[Lysimachus]

Amaras/Zidemi: Eleandor looks blankly inward for a few moments.

 

“We have a very small supply of VT097.65. Records show the last time anyone requested it was shortly before the joint operation at Corellageon, approximately twenty-two months ago. We had visitors, a cell of the Hereticus that were seeking assistance from the Ordo Xenos. They requisitioned several doses, which we supplied. The remainder of our stock is confirmed as being present and correct.”

 

She raises an eyebrow, a remarkably human gesture.

 

“Brothers Astartes, I cannot understand how this particular compound has any bearing on, or is interfering with, the ‘duty and deployment of the Deathwatch’? If you can provide me with further explanation of the reasons for your interest, I might be able to help more?”

 

***

 

Bekkar/Moridyn: The Grey Knight frowns.

 

“Uncertain. I felt his emotions at the end. Fury at some betrayal. Concern, shame, over his loss of control. Fear of the Empyrean, not for himself, but for the sheer carnage that might be wrought if he was overcome.”

 

“Then he found a solution. I did not know what it was, but I know that he died soon afterwards. The sensation I felt from him as that happened was one of great relief, even of satisfaction.”

 

“As to your second question, in most cases, I would say not. As you both know, our Father gave mighty gifts to all the Astartes, both genetic and hypnotic, gifts that harden their minds against almost all psychic influence. Perhaps the most powerful of psykers might be able to compel a Space Marine to act against their will, but…”

 

He pauses thoughtfully.

 

“Unless… the subject already wanted to act in a certain way? Even more, if they already believed that a course of action, though proscribed for whatever reason, was the right thing to do…? Perhaps then a capable - or desperate - psyker could successfully convince them, nudge them over the edge and into action?”

 

***

 

 

Alda: It is difficult to tell, but the Bulwark's records do not list anyone leaving with Lord Inquisitor Kine when he went to Corellageon, from either his own Ordo Xenos or from the mysterious Hereticus cell.