[BC] The Blackest Heart (IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

GM OOC: I'll hang fire for any rolls Necro wants to do, but just a quick advisory - you won't actually get's MG's ping until you're closer to him.

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Despite his desire to range out ahead of the others, he knew it was far more prudent to remain closer together, and so fell into an uncomfortable rear-guard position again, exchanging his preferred implements for the recovered boltgun. He warily panned the weapon about as he watched for any lurking gribblies, quite prepared to reduce anything that revealed itself unannounced into meaty chunks and slag. While the Lamenter was pleased to have a working comm-link again, he remained mostly silent, ruminating on his near-loss of control with Seryna, and only provided periodic vox-clicks to Hagga and Cyrandras to remind them he still drew breath.

 

He felt, almost, like they were a procession of the damned on a journey through the underworld, like in the ancient Hellic sagas, and he half-expected to find old Khairon leaning upon the great oar of his boat around the next bend, or mighty Kerberos slumbering beneath the next threshold. Mostly what greeted them was eerie silence and crimson-lit gloom, broken intermittently by the odd flash of Seryna’s stab-light. Cyrandras’s pronouncement that his witch-sight was occluded only added to the persistent and growing sense of dread that hung over the party as they deliberately advanced into the bowels of Brimstone.

 

 

OOC: sorry for the delay – I was absorbed in my work.

 

Awareness Test: Per39 + 10 (HS) + 10 (Auto-Senses) + 20 (Easy) = 79

D100: 60; 2 DoS

Edited February 7 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

GM OOC: No harm, no foul Necro :)

 

Krokodil 4-1:

 

You coast through the tunnel at a fair clip thanks to the linear space and easy push-off surfaces, the trip is silent without. The dim crimson glow illumintes the tunnel faintly, and where you pass the fully excavated tunnel walls you can determine that there tunnels are perfectly square in shape. There is no chipping to the mettalic-sheen of the stonework, nor is there any misalignment in the panels, leading to the idea this was cut a single shaft.

 

It is exactly 2.25m, to the micron, by your augurs and HUD readings, but that is not all.

 

On some of the clear panels, which have been polished by either something passing here - likely the human inhabitants lazying around - you can see what appear to be marks cut into the stone. These too are perfect, and lack any kind of aberration from blunt tool edges or mistakes in application.

 

They seem to be a sprawl of interconnected lines, cdemi-circles, sphreres, arcs and dots, as can be found on the simpler circuit boards. They run unbroken as you travel, almost a klom from your point of entry, and it occurs that this shaft was filled with pulverised rubble, compressed and packed by some happenstance of pressure and burial.

 

As you leave the shaft, you emerge into a vast shaft, some 30m across, niether the top or bottom of which is visible. Around you are seveal cradles, attached to very Imperial mechanism and guide rods, and whilst on this side, they are static, you can see the clamps and baskets for cargo whipping up and down in silent blue and golden sparks. There do not appear to be any bolt fittings - instead, large magnetic clamps and a framework of cross-gap joists and braces hold the entire thing together.  The bulkhead lamps are red on your side, and green on the other, each a small string of constellation dropping away into the darkness.

 

+If we stick to this side, it will be fine.+

 

She pushes off.

 

As you go up, you can see more of the shafts like the one you came out of. Each are a perfecly formed miniature of this shaft, and in the lights from the rigging, you can musch bigger, more intricately carved designs.

 

+We should be fine in here,+ Seryna adds, +They never come into these tunnels.+

 

After four, maybe five hundred metres of travel, you can hear a friendly IFF signal ping in your commbeads.

 

The ID Tag in your HUDs reads: Krokodil 4-2.

 

Rakash ONLY:

Spoiler

Some of the runes look remarkably familiar to you. Having studied some of Magnus' work, a few of the sigils look Tizcan...

 

Edited February 7 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

One less distraction, but they had taken valuable equipment in their flight. Better now perhaps than if he had carried something of true worth.

 

It seemed that for now they must await the astartes, or perhaps the local defenders to break the deadlock. Until then it seemed prudent to examine their hideout well lest more vents were hidden amongst the stores here.

 

Medicae by minion to recover wound : 41 = pass

[Lord_Ikka]

The Smiler

 

"Hello little one," the Smiler looked down at the little mutant. "I am looking for Druid. He and I have a meeting too long delayed."

Spoiler

The Serpent's Tongue Test (Charm/Deceive)

Target - 62

Roll - 18

Results = Pass, 4 DoS. Crux'as gains Peer (Mutants/Hanged Men) for the remainder of the session.

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Crux'As:

 

'Cor, you muth be importhanth. Foll meh!'

 

The scruffy mutant child scampers off at quite a pace for a bundle of cloven-hooved rags, but long, confident strides bring you swiftly through several tunnels, wide alcoves carved into the rock, in some places forming galleries you can view into rooms. Beds, prison cots, clothes drying on emergency heaters that appear to have been repaired a hundred times over. The 'folk' peer as you walk past them, all taking an uncanny, simultaneous interest in you.

 

As you progress, you notice many females, some are up and about, but many are not. All seem to be at different stages of pregnancy. Strange shapes move under taut clothes, heralding something monstrous soon to be expressed in more than mere pangs of childbirth. Frescoes, some simple, crude, others very artistically drawn and even painted seem to chart the life-cycle of the colony. The murder of men, and the silling of blood seems to be a favourite remembrance, along with a good rendition of Him-On-Terra, but with four arms.

 

The smell of cooking meat reaches your nostrils, thick, heady. There is strange seared-hair bouquet to whatever is being prepared.

 

Suddenly a bruiser looms over your shoulder. Seven feet of solid, purple-fleshed muscle, shaven headed and most vestiges of humanity gone, he is more alien than human - mutation you have seen - but this? Two arms are fused together in a bony branch of radius of the lower, and ulna of that above, and it clutches in this double-handed a grip a monstrous power-hammer. The pack is a small generator, and a hodge-podge of cables feed to the weapon. The free hand of this monstrous mutagen strain handles a chunk of raw meat, which is torn in bloody chunks by a prodigiously mandible.

 

It stares at you with an casual malignancy.

 

'My friend! You have come, so glad to see you,' that cultured voice states, coming from a door to your left. 'Druid, at your service once more.'

 

He is not in the voidsuit, this time in a uniform of some Imperial Officer, now resplendent with a long purple sash. His features are fine, handsome, even, but his skin too is a similar hue to the brute lurching it out in the passageway. The ridges present on the others you have seen are more refined, and his eyes carry the strange aura of one in touch with the Aether. He gestures to your weapons and eyes you wickedly.

 

'I do hope you won't use those. It would be churlish, since I am inviting you to sup with me! Come in and sit, man and let us be companions.'

 

Druid's hand describes a sweeping motion to usher you into a long hollow with tables and benches. He is unarmed.

 

Edited February 8 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Rykaz followed Seryna in silence, but in his head he tried to make sense of the hidden route… and what it told them about this place.

The cargo cradles on the other side were moving up and down. That suggested that someone was still carrying out mining operations here - good news, for it implied that there was still some value in the asteroid.

 

However, what concerned Hagga was the shape and pattern of the tunnels they travelled through. The absolute precision was beyond anything the miners could have achieved, and indeed why would they care to try? So the tunnels and the decorations pre-dated the mining. That in turn suggested that they were vastly older, perhaps even going back in time to when the asteroid belt was still three worlds, those that were utterly destroyed during the Horus Heresy.

 

Both the technology and the design didn't seem to be of Imperial origin. Could it be that the current Genestealer infection was not the first time that this place had been plagued by xenos? As they climbed, Hagga wondered how this might affect them now. Were the tunnel carvers long extinct, no longer a concern, or did they represent another threat to be dealt with? He was mulling this over when a vox ping sounded in his ear, on the same channel their squad was using. Somewhere ahead. He raised his hand for the travellers to freeze. Bolter ready, he tapped his microbead and sent an answering ping.

 

 

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

Across the Vox he received an answering ping. 

 

 

+Eska sits in another bed+

 

 

He hoped that the Violent Children would work out, that they had moved and triangulate the signal. 

 

 

 

 

 

[Xin Ceithan]

Cyrandras 

Amazing…

 

As if the numbness of his aetheric senses  wouldn’t be distracting enough, inside a rock full of hostile xenos and their misbegotten kin, Rakash felt his attention again and again drifting towards the strangeness of their surroundings.
Even with a potential ambush situation at hand and the in built combat focussing of his Astartesian nature, the Sorcerer felt his own innate curiosity forcing it’s way to the surface. 
His eyes followed the lines of the shapes and sigils, mesmerized by the their precision and complexity. At least once, he had to willfully stop himself from reaching out and touching them, feeling the urge to trace the lines and symbols with his fingers…

 

Were have I seen this before? , Rakash wondered.

 

Spoiler

Motivation : Arcane!

 

Time for some hidden Forbidden lore check by the GM, I guess with regards to the spoiler above? 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Cyrandras ONLY:

Spoiler

GM OOC: Well played, sir!

 

GM: I will give an Incursion of +10 for good RP, and will now make the roll (Forbidden Lore).

D100: 004! ALL TEH lots of DoS!

 

You recall ancient texts collated by one of the Conclave, culled from many various sources of illicit lore and sorcery, locked into the Vault of Magnus, itself a small oubliette within the Astral Claws' deepest Librarium. It recalls these strange runes, and their properties as it pertains to warding or ensorcellment. These runes or carvings were created by a race that spanned the galaxy many millennia ago, a spacefaring people with arcane science bordering on the magical. The name however was never discovered properly or settled upon.

 

Of all the works contained with the tome, even those studying the Aeldari struggled to discover the people.

 

Yet, the legacy continues to this day, the warding devices and diagrams constructed by the Thousand Sons, the Aeldar, even the vaunted Adeptus Astra Telepathica, are built upon the blocks that levered the universe. Many of these runes were known to carry the properties of Dampening, a pseudo form of psychic suppression. Other runes were discovered to Amplify. All presupposed an alignment of special-propertied minerals, but the books could not explain how the mineral was mined, nor from whence it came.

 

More recently, some of these runes had been linked to Blackstone Fortresses, but the science, understanding, and similarity to this construct end there.

 

What the books are clear upon, however, is the terrible augury of doom for meddlers in such esoteric things. Even a soul which is warp-dabbled, experienced, can recognise some of the danger signs. Sigils for a 'guardian' spirit repeat within the icons carved here, and you sincerely doubt it is metaphorical...

 

Krokodil 4-1:

 

The tinny bleeping resolves into the mechanical crackling of Kraggan being cryptic.

 

Edited February 8 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

+++She does, axe-wielder, most unhappily at being denied her share of the fun on this rock!+++

 

Hagga didn't relax at hearing Kraggan's voice, but he did feel a brief moment of… what? Relief? Satisfaction? Pleasure? …that their hodgepodge unit had been reunited. Better not to lose any men if you could avoid it. Surprises were usually best avoided, too.

 

+++We have a local guide with us. Not one of the purple scarves.+++

 

He looked towards Seryna.

 

“Our colleagues are just ahead.”

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Krokodil 4-1:

 

Seryna puts a thumbs-up as you continue to vault upwards with very little effort.

 

+Next big tunnel will put under command sub-deck three. Not far now.+

 

GM: We can assume that no further encouters are had between this travel and the 'big tunnel' which another transverse passageway in the guts of the cargo delivery system.

 

Both teams are approximately 100m from the command centre bunker, which from local maps and plans is a three-storey hexagonally built chamber, harnessed into the rock by over a dozen stanchions. It is supported by it's own power recycler, SCBA unit, hardened comm-lines and emergency systems, all fed by, and contained within, four great, super-cooled conduit tubes the width of a Leman Russ MBT.

 

From your locator pings, and shared data, the Marines are underneath and towards the lowest deck, the mortals occupy a position with access to the second deck.

[Lord_Ikka]

The Smiler

 

"I am not one for whom violence is a primary choice. My way is more...refined, as it were."

 

The Smiler sat down at the table, his senses tingling. Druid's manners and appearance were unusual. There was something else about the situation and the man in front of him, something that clouded the mind. It wasn't the touch of the Gods, that was known to Crux'as and welcomed. This was different, a dark cloud of alien intent and power. 

 

He thinks on the actions of the miners and mutants he has seen- the sameness of expression, the simultaneous reactions and movement. It was like a colony of insects that all reacted to an invader with speed and synchronization. 

 

"What are you? For you are no true Imperial and no worshipper of the Old Gods. The statues of the God-Emperor may be a way to go under the radar of the Ecclesiarchy, but you are no offshoot cult of Terra."

[Mazer Rackham]

Crux'As:

 

Druid's face lights up like you've told him it's his birthday.

 

'Ah my friend, this flesh-' he breaks off to pinch his forearm, deftly catching the soft parts between the hardened plates '-remembers Terra, Old Earth. It remembers the diaspora of mankind, and the wonders of the cradle.'

 

Here, women serve plates to a large, long table, and the men come to sit all at once, with that same, strange synchronisation. It's almost comical. They come and await the table being laid and almost act out the ritual of a family meal. One or two bicker, others stare into space awaiting their plates. The children dangle their obscene, insectile feet.

 

One is placed down in front of you. The women who does it smiles, her left hand lingering on your shoulder in an almost intimate fashion, before she goes.

 

'Better watch Tabitha, she's a bit behind on her quota,' one of the "men" to your right quips. He mimics a baby-bump.

 

'Enough, Pick. We are of an Older Flesh,' Druid says, 'before the ken of man, was the Great Family. A shimmering shoal of togetherness lingering outside the firmament. Great Father-on-Throne has told us of this. One day, The Father-Emperor will come, as his messengers have promised. We pay no heed to Old Earth anymore. They have ravaged our brood, and murdered many of our true belief.'

 

One of the children eyes his plate with a squint, then his tongue shoots out to capture a morsel of the meat. It looks like a big toe, a VERY big toe. Astartes-sized in fact, if you were to hazard a guess.

 

'Dalaz! Manners! This is the Provider, he brought this meal to our home. Show some respect!'

 

The child, chastened, or as much as a little horror-monster can look, nods his head at you. 'Thorry, thir.' He begins to eat with his claw-hand, snipping chunks quite sedately. Tabitha returns, a not-uncomely girl, and places an old pewter tankard of water by your wrist. She perches on the bench beside you.

 

'We merely wish to live here in peace,' Druid continues, 'If you wish to live here, I am sure an arrangement could be made.'

 

The 'meal' is devoured by the fanged mouths, around you, greedily, noisily, with relish.

 

'Of course, we'd have to get to know you all better. That Ukalegon, for example - did I say that right? He's a bit of wild soul!' Druid grins at you as he points his fork at you. The gravy-sodden finger on  the fork, points to the door. 'Isn't he...Crux'As?'

 

Edited February 8 by Mazer Rackham

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Ukalegon snorted at Hagga’s mention of their “colleagues,” as they glided up through the unnaturally regular and precision machined shaft.

 

Little better than allies of convenience…

 

He wondered by what artifice such a perfect series of tunnels could have possibly been constructed, for it seemed far beyond even the exacting demands of the Machine Cult, and the oddness of the place set him ill at ease.

 

This was not merely the remnant of but one world among the many destroyed in the fires of the Horus Heresy. What was this place…?

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Detection Tests for the Marines

 

Patrol Encounter:

D100: Fail, No encounter

 

Picter Capture:

D100: Partial Fail.

 

As you move through the supertructure, clambering up ladders and passing through bulkhead sphincters, a picter winks in your direction. It jams on the pivot, however, and fails to track you properly. However, the Marines manage to rendezvous with the Mortals, completing the team.

 

Except for Crux'As.

[Trokair]

Tarh

 

Spinning round at the sound, long-las coming up, seeking threats. An unknown human, but no purple at first glance. Nonetheless he kept the sight trained on the figure, finger on the trigger. He heard rather than saw the other two react to his movement and turn towards the newcomer.

 

The female stopped, that second of uncertainty as each side tries to ascertain the others allegiance. She was cast into shadow as a second figure stepped up behind her, one with a familiar bulky stature.

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga controlled his instinctive response to the sniper rifle being raised, ignoring the sudden warmth of kill-urge in his veins. With an iron grip he kept his boltgun aimed down, away from the mortal.

 

“Tarh,” he grunted, “point that somewhere else before one of us shoves it somewhere. Have you still got that medikit we took from the crash? The landing bay is ours, but all of us have taken injuries that need treatment. Ukalegon first.”

 

The Executioner looked at the mortals, suddenly noticing that the demagogue wasn't there.

 

“Where is the Smiler?”

 

 

[Trokair]

Tarh

 

He lingered on the new mortal for a second, then lowered the Long-las. Going down to kneel with his left he retrieves his med-kit from his satchel and set it on the floor. The one from the ill-fated lander was with Xerxes companion.

 

“Let’s see what we can patch and bandage.”

 

Spoiler

First Aid Medicae Test

Int: 45 +20 (Medikit) +10 (Assist from Ephialtes?) = 65 or 75

D100: 59, Pass, 1 or 2 DoS

Heal 4 wounds if Ukalegon is lightly wounded, heal 1 if heavily wounded 

 

 

Whatever scrap the Chosen had been entangled in in their taking of the landing pay must have been gruelling and utterly lethal for them to need what limited field care he could provide.

 

 

 

Edit: further to Mazers post below and OCC post.

 

“I did not see it, but after the four armed Xenos-Utukku ambushed us he was gone. Taken by the purple leader’s minion I reckon. This Druid had been trying to persuade the Preacher to join him before the ambush. Kraggan got the closest look at that Xenos beast, it outmatched us and yet it slunked away.”

 

 

 

Edited February 9 by Trokair

[Mazer Rackham]

Krokodil 4:

 

GM: Just to prevent repetition of things, and preserve some inter-party dynamics, we will assume that Kraggan relates his belief Crux'As cut and ran, and all players are up to speed.  (Tarh can put in his tuppence he is not convinced, thereby causing further doubt over the exact circumstances). If you do want to post your IC reactions etc, please feel free.

 

When you're ready to move on, just let me know what you want to do next after some planning/discussion in the OOC.

[Mazer Rackham]

'BRIMSTONE' COMMAND CENTRE:

 

FIRST FLOOR:

Spoiler

 

SECOND FLOOR:

Spoiler

 

THIRD FLOOR:

Spoiler

 

GM NOTES:

• Floors 1 and 2 are 30m in diameter, and 5m high, with flat ceilings and floors,
• Floor 3 is 30m in diamater, with a domed ceiling peaking at 8m. The floor beyond the stairwell is concave, and tiered, with each concentric ring of cogitator banks 2m in elevation above the inner, accessed by ramps.
• Each stairwell is bisected into steps and a partial servitor ramp.
• All cogitator banks face the stairwell.
• The doors on the stairwell are security doors, and colour-coded for which floor can be reached.

GM: As per, queries, shouting and complaints in the OOC.

 

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

"Where's the Smiler?

 

Hagga asked after the initial tension of the Marines arrival, and introduction of the female scout. 

 

 

 

+Well met Hagga! Thr+

 

He caught his speech 

 

+Ukalegon!+

 

Do not say his Name! 

 

He nodded to the Witch Marine. 

 

Tarh administered to the Thrice-Dead and offered up his thoughts about Crux'as. 

 

 

"Done a bunk, captured or he's a Fifth Columnist. He's not here!" 

 

He glanced across Seryna and then to Cyrandras. 

 

 

"Maybe the Witch can recount to us all the legend of the Doppelganger?" 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Krokodil 4:

 

Seryna looks at these new companions with a blank expression. Her lasrifle is lowered, but the safety catch is under her thumb, ready. She watches Tarh impassively as he begins the work of tending wounds. Otherwise she keeps her distance.

 

When asked about the command centre, she merely shakes her head.

 

'I've no idea what's in there. Never been inside.'

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

“Do you know anyone who has been inside?” Hagga replied to Seryna. “Caleb, maybe? If you have friends who would be willing to fight the xenos beside us, I think we should speak with them.”

[Mazer Rackham]

Hagga:

 

'I know Caleb would have been inside, he was a Shift-Runner and Temporary Admin, Second Class. He got a handful of us together when it all started falling apart, pushed us into the black tunnels.' Seryna shrugs, a little sheepishly. 'It's how I know them. We split up, with the frequency for the Comms room when we got somewhere...safe. I thought the autocannon blister was pretty good...'

 

She shrugs again.

 

'I tried to reach him, but then some idiot put out a full spectrum broadcast and killed my link. We might be able to raise whoever is left with a decent comm-signal. There won't be many...'

 

Her face slips back into an expressionless mask, before the thought of doing something stirs her spirit.

 

'If we could find a high-cap trunk line...'

 

GM: With the plans for the local area downloaded, an Easy (+20) Intelligence Test or Very Easy (+30) Navigation (Surface) Test will suffice. Do note, however, that you must run the gauntlet of Patrols or Picters to Patch in.

 

Edited February 9 by Mazer Rackham