"I would love some water, Cairbre! These forms make for thirsty work!" Fleece calls into the kitchen. He doesn't know why, but if the others are maintaining a pretense, he won't reveal it to Quintus.
Fleece listens to the hushed conversation in the kitchen, but can't make out what's being said. He grins at Quintus, hoping to reassure him. He can feel the suspicion in the room, but isn't sure what his companions are worried about.
As the acolytes re-enter the main room, he scans their faces, hoping to read some hint of what they're thinking.
"Well, here are our forms, Quintus," he says, sliding the papers to the adept. "Everything should be in order now, right? I think my fellow officers might have some more questions before you go, though. Thanks for your cooperation."
I don't have scrutiny trained, so even my modified skill of (13+30)43 isn't enough to help with a roll of 58. Fleece remains oblivious to anything other than the registration forms.
"Now Fleece, he's an esteemed guest not a suspect." Cairbre says as, returning to the room with a glass of liquid that is perhaps a little too brown tinted to be considered water.
"Emperor smiles on every good deed done no matter how small, Quintus. We appreciate the help in registration."
Another 4. I'm starting to get worried. Watch, first time I use psychic powers, I'm going rip open another eye of terror and get everyone killed spectacularly.
After the adept was well out of earshot, Silas handed Atellus back his package of smokes.
"So uh... he seems like a honest enough guy, I can see why the scary '=I=' would send his superiors in a nervous fit. I feel like we can trust him to a certain extent. Anyways, we have two counting houses to start off this investigation in, would you guys rather split up or go in one group? It may be better to hit both places at the same time because all of us going would be kind of stretching our cover story wouldn't it?"
Quintus leaves, quickly and quietly, pausing only to mumble "Pleasure meeting you all" before scurrying down the steps and into the streets, which have become quite crowded over the last hour. It is about 10:00 in the morning local and the sounds of a busy city echo outside.
Remember your Investigative skills, team: Atellus can hit the streets with Inquiry at 41, the rest of you can at one half fellowship - give a general idea of what you're trying to get info about and give me a roll.
Make a +20 Awareness Test Please (Results Follow, remember the honor system):
Quintus left his long, brown paper wrapped package.
"Well he was a nice man," says Fleece. "I agree we might as well split up and hit both counting houses at the same time."
Fleece rises from his chair slowly, tucking his auto-quill back into his jacket.
"I think we should send our less Arbites-looking members to check the north counting house. Quintus' superiors might be more alert than he was. As for me, I--"
Atellus watches the adept leave, deep in thought. He rubs at his devotional eagle, as the ash from his lho stick crumbles onto the floor unheeded.
"The pollen is just... dissapearing? Sounds like a likely excuse, but he didn't seem like he was lying to me. That means that whatever's going on, Quintus isn't in on it. Kosloff and Jax seem to be our best leads."
His voice is low, as though he's merely articulating his thought process rather than speaking to the group. The lho stick has burned to ash in his fingers, and he lights another that he lets hang unsmoked, forgotten like the other.
"I think it's time to split up. We're going to need to disguise Xerxes if we're going to play down the Mechanicus angle, though... but if I go with him and Cairbre to the northen house, hit up Jax, they should be able to spot any form of foul play, techological or... otherwise..."
"Agreed. Kosloff will likely be difficult to convince of current story. Should avoid meeting her with members it would be difficult to pass off as Arbitrators. Non-red robe should suffice for disguise."
With that, he turns his head to face the table. Reaching out with his right hand, he points at the package.
"Contents of package of interest. Care must be taken. Any tampering should be done in an undetectable fashion. Also with haste. Quintus may return."
Tri-Optimum reminds you that there are only one-hundred-sixty-three shopping days until Christmas. Just 1 extra work cycle twice a week will give you the spending money you need to make this holiday a very special one.
Cairbre nods at Atellus' suggestion. "Sounds good to me. I've seen more than my share of Adepts in my time. No offense Fleece," he adds hastily.
Swiveling an eye towards Xerxes, Cairbre slides in, "It's not Quintus' package anymore is it? I means, it is right now here in our possession which implies that it would be ours, correct?" The power cuts out on the red bead for a half second, giving you the distinct impression of a wink. He pulls out a deck of the Imperial Tarot from inside his robes. "I say we ask the Emperor what he wants to do with the package. Draw one card; high card wins; winner gets to do what he wants with the package. Although myself, I'd keep it," he says as he spreads the deck across the table, face down.
Cairbre spends a few seconds with his head down reciting the prayer of the Exalted Emperor, Determiner of Destiny, before his hand snakes out and grabs a card. A frown crosses his features for a second before he turns the card over. "Istvaan. Well, looks like someone else wins." You can almost feel the failure radiating out from him, but it passes in a second.
Cairbre isn't above abusing his emperor given powers. And during his prayer, used his mind to influence the luck around him. Not that it did him any good, since he rolled a 72 on gamble to start.
Anyone who opens a window or goes outside sees a street preacher yelling at a crowd of terrified people standing around the front of your building.
"REPENT! THIS IS A SIGN OF THE HAND OF THE EMPEROR'S WRATH! HE CALLS FOR DEATH TO HEATHENS!"
The street preacher is wearing the robes of a confessor and has a laspistol clearly displayed at his side, and a chainblade across his back. IMPERATOR is tatooed across his shaved head, and his eyes burn with the righteous fire of the faithful. He is pointing at two trees that were planted on the sidewalk outside your safehouse, which were before vibrant(ish), and are now cracked, browned, and lifeless.
By the way, you can make gamble checks against Cairbre if you want to determine who gets the package.
"Our departure is advisable. Truck appears to be currently unavailable. Angering of mob ill advised."
With this Xerxes strides up the stairs, staff clicking as he goes. At the top, he approaches the weapons locker and opens his compartment. Carefully, he removes the las-carbine from his back and reverentially places it within the locker before closing and locking it.
He then removes the las pistol holster, adjusts it so the pistol sits on the left side and puts it back on under the robe before returning to the main room of the safe house.
Chrysis on
Tri-Optimum reminds you that there are only one-hundred-sixty-three shopping days until Christmas. Just 1 extra work cycle twice a week will give you the spending money you need to make this holiday a very special one.
Atellus drags on his jet black arbitrator armour, cursing as he pulls himself into the tight fitting mesh. He seems to have returned now from the world of his thoughts, speaking clearly to his companions:
"Damn right Xerxes, but maybe we should keep an eye on them for a few minutes before we disperse. I can't believe that plants mysteriously dying and the dissapearance of our pollen tithe aren't totally unrelated."
He checks the shotgun and his ammunition, saying a low prayer of benediction to the machine spirit of the weapon, then slings it over his shoulder. He then covers the whole thing in his rain-cape.
"Besides, if these yokels want to make trouble..." he taps the shotgun concealed under the voluminous coat "... old reliable here has seen off it's share of mobs in it's time."
Silas just nods and picks his lasgun back up from where he placed it before and slung it nonchalantly across his back, not checking the sights, ammunition, or any other parts of it like the other acolytes. In fact if the lasgun had been replaced with a wooden stick, nothing would have changed with his actions.
"Understood and agreed. Point the way and I will follow."
Damascusxie on
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No-QuarterNothing To FearBut Fear ItselfRegistered Userregular
edited March 2008
Glances out the mob and the withered trees through the grimey window.
He looks over to Caibre, "Perhaps friend, you're powers could have caused this to occur?"
"I agree we should leave soon." He fetches his equipment and after much rote slinging of equipment, the Vostroyan stands statuesque in his red great coat, with it's inlaid gold trim. The lasgun swung across his back resembles an antique hunting rifle more then a weapon of the 41st Millennium.
"Where to comrades? I go where the God-Emperor wills."
Cairbre is suddenly quite concerned with his own appearance, trying to brush his hair over the gray metal headband on his head. He looks away as he says, "Well, I've got no idea why the locals are agitated, but I think now would be a good time to hit the streets."
He checks the laspistol in the folds of his robes as he goes to the back room and begins to loiter by the backdoor.
You exit into the back alley, and besides a poor soul rooting through some garbage it's a relatively uneventful place. Dark black clouds are gathering overhead as you set off towards counting house north.
TEAM 2: Silas, Lupus, Fleece
You go out the front door to find that most of the preacher's crowd has dispersed at the threat of rain. The man himself is holding a squarish black box in his hands that you assume is a picter, snapping (you guessed it) picts of the dead trees. As you exit he greets you "Brothers! Is this not a glorious sign from the emperor?" before going back to his business.
Silas realizes he's holding the keys to the Cargo-4.
For those of you who don't know, a Cargo-4 is basically a large pickup truck, think Ford F-250. Make any social interactions, group 2, decide who's driving. In about twelveish hours I'm going to post for both teams in spoilers what happens when you get to your goals.
Fleece tugs his hat onto his head, and pats down his pockets, making sure he's not forgetting anything. Seeing Quintus' package lying forgotten on the table, he grabs it as he heads for the door.
Once outside, Fleece nods to the street preacher.
As he clambers into the Cargo-4, he calls out, "Greetings, brother. My friends and I are pilgrims, traveling the sector in search of miracles from the Emperor. Have there been any other signs or portents of late?"
Just in case, here's my inquiry roll of 9 vs. my fellowship of (40/2) 20.
Also, once the truck is under way, I'll rip open the package and see what's inside.
It takes you the better part of an hour to navigate the twisted streets to the northern counting house. It's a large warehouse situated on the shadier end of the port, it has a large set of double doors on the south end and several man-sized doorways along the west side. Clustered around a hundred meters away is a low pile of docking clamps and shuttle launchers, only a few of which are occupied. As you approach the large, pre-fab, rockcrete bulk of the counting house you see a small commotion going on outside and hear yelling voices, several figures storm out of the open by doors and towards the shuttle docks.
When you reach the doors, you see a tall, thin man dressed in the grey robes of an administratum member. He is tall and gaunt, with a receding black hairline and a line of spinal plugs down his long neck. He seems rather... surprised to see the three of you approaching. Nevetheless, he reacts quickly "Greetings sirrahs, I am Fallus Jax, acting prefect of this counting house. What may I do for you today?"
TEAM 2: Silas, Lupus, Fleece
The preacher takes Fleece's question with some obvious measure of surprise "Iocanthos is a blighted place to go looking for signs of the Emperor brother! Nevertheless, there are many to be found, most of a darker nature than you would think. I'll be preaching here until tonight, we should speak later if you're doing the Emperor's work, I know this city like the palm of my hand!"
Silas quickly familiarizes himself with the Cargo-4 and the team is shortly on their way, shortly on their way to being stuck in traffic, that is. Fleece unwraps the package and finds something rather unexpected, a compact lasgun and two power cells.
Either way, after about half an hour of traffic the team arrives at the massive, imposing southern counting house. As they pull up to the gate, they are waved down by a guard in a grey-green cloak holding an autogun. "And what," he asks "brings you gentlemen on this fine day to the domain of his majesty's Administratum in Port Suffering?" He has little to no identification or rank signification on him besides a nametag sewn into his cloak labeled "SWANSON."
Team One make Scrutiny tests against Fallus if you want.
Team two you can make any comments that you want about the contents of Quintus' package, and then talk to the guard in the same post (for brevity's sake).
Maticore on
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No-QuarterNothing To FearBut Fear ItselfRegistered Userregular
edited March 2008
From his vantage point in the back of the truck, Lupus cannot properly make out the guard. Regardless, he places his hand on the holster of his Lazpistol.
Silas glances at Fleece and gives him a slight nod.
"It looks like you're going to be the one doing most of the talking. I'm sorry to say that I am horridly unfamiliar with these officious proceedings and so I cannot be of more help than simply a guard for you. I believe I speak for both Lupus and I in saying that we are men very used to taking orders. However seeing that our new friend was armed in meeting us at our safehouse for the first time, perhaps you will have more use for us than it seems."
With that out of the way, he rolls down his window and pokes his head out.
"In the name of the most holy Emperor, I am escorting an administratum member for his duties here at this location. Please identify yourself with rank and standing commands."
Cairbre looks at the man in gray in front of him. For a second, he looks as if he's about to say something, then thinks better of it and remains silent.
Thinking that perhaps he's done enough damage already, Cairbre takes a half step back, leaving his two companions to answer the inquiry.
The Arbitrator scans Jax up and down, appraising the man and taking his measure before continuing.
"Fallus Jax? Your superior, Quintus Martharrow, sent us. He thought you might be able to help us with some questions we have"
A brief smirk flashed across Atellus' face. This man will not thank his master for his helpful suggestion.
Xerxes nods at the man before taking a step back to join Cairbre. He slowly looks around, before fixing his gaze upon Jax. Remaining silent he tightens his grip on the staff with his left hand, his right pulled up into the long sleeves of his robe.
Tri-Optimum reminds you that there are only one-hundred-sixty-three shopping days until Christmas. Just 1 extra work cycle twice a week will give you the spending money you need to make this holiday a very special one.
Jax gazes at you evenly as he responds, "Yes, I'm sure Quintus has been helpful to you very much, and I'll be happy to answer any questions you have. I only have a few minutes though, so please make it quick.
TEAM 2:
The man seems rather intimidated by Silas' military bearing. "Ahh... Private Swanson, Port Suffering Militia. I'm erm... I guess my orders are guard duty... ah, sir. You should know that Adept Kosloff is off world on duties right now, so if that's who you're looking for then you should probably come back later this month... she'll be back on the 34th. I believe that Adept Martharrow, head of the northern house, is acting head of the Administratum right now."
He pauses for a moment.
"Unless of course your business is not with Adept Kosloff, in that case you can move along inside."
The date is the 2nd of the month on Iocanthos.
In case you've forgotten, your business IS with adept Kosloff.
Sorry about the late post guys, I have a ton of work this week.
Atellus smiles, but it carries no humour. He ignores Fallus's attempt to hurry them on, and points in the direction of the docks.
"Having problems with the traders, Jax? Those men do not look pleased at all. And when a man is displeased outside of a counting house, it's usually an adept that has him angered. Even though, of course, such true servants of the Holy Throne are most dilligent and professional in their efforts."
Cairbre's optic beads look to where Atellus is indicating with interest.
Still keeping his eyes on the commotion, Cairbre says to his fellows "Those men seem to be agitated, but it's hard to tell if they're about to breach or not. I'll try and scout what they're up to."
With that, the acolyte begins to shuffle towards the shuttle docks. As he walks, his hand absently traces from his psy-focus, to his lasgun, to his sword, and back again.
Xerxes puts his right hand into one of the pouches dangling at his waist and pulls it back out again holding a beat up old data-slate. Leaning his staff against his body he begins to write on the slate before showing it to Atellus and Cairbre. The slate reads, in a careful precise script:
"I will remain silent and hooded. As explanation, a vow of penance for some sin of vanity forbids me from speaking or showing myself to others. You can explain this message as facts unrelated to the counting houses I decided to bring to your attention."
When sure the others have read the slate, he thumbs the erase rune and puts it back into one of the pouches.
Chrysis on
Tri-Optimum reminds you that there are only one-hundred-sixty-three shopping days until Christmas. Just 1 extra work cycle twice a week will give you the spending money you need to make this holiday a very special one.
Fleece leans past Silas and addresses the guard directly.
"In that case, could you point us towards her office? I'm compiling a report for her, but she neglected to provide all the data I needed before she left. I'll just pop in and grab it. She told me to make myself welcome if I needed anything."
Jax responds quickly and snappily "It's not my fault when ship captains get here before schedule and demand cargo. Gentlemen, I reiterate, what can I do for you?" He's visibly annoyed, and his voice clearly displays it. He ignores Xerxes' seemingly strange behavior.
As Cairbre approaches, the group of men walking towards the docking clamps slow, then turn to face him. One steps forward, he is wearing a jaunted naval officer's cap and his face is worn and weathered.
"Some'd think you was a threat coming up behind men like that. Lucky I ain't one of 'em. Name's Fice, Captain Jeckyl Fice. Pleasure to meet you... ?"
An elaborately detailed laspistol is clearly displayed on his belt.
TEAM 2:
The private responds to Fleece abashedly, "Hrm... I'm not sure..."
Pollo, please make a routine (+10) decieve check and PM me the results.
Atellus nods at Xerxes data slate, then returns his attention to the junior adept. His smile never wavers, but his voice now is a low growl.
"Calm down, Jax. We're here about the pollen, the ghostfire pollen. It's going missing, and we're going to find out why. Your superior said that you might be able to help us. So, tell us everything you know. Out here, or inside, it's your preference."
The smile begins to fade into a grimace.
Silas tilts his head to the side and says in a voice loud enough for the guard to hear.
"Hey come on now, the sooner he can get this pile of paperwork done the sooner we can all take a break. Swanson, if time was not a factor here then I would not have be driving this man here all round the port trying to gather this data or whatever. This is just wasting our time."
Jax seems unintimidated, "On whose authority should I be telling you this?"
TEAM 2:
Swanson replies uneasily "Well I dunno... tell you what, you go on inside and speak to Swarthus at the front desk, then if he gives you the go ahead Adept Kosloff's office is on the fourth floor." He waves the truck through the gate and you can see the looming shape of the pre-fab administratum hub.
As the truck chugs towards the hub, Fleece opens his backpack and pulls out his crumpled administratum robes. In a feat of contortion, he manages to pull his robes on over his clothes with only minimal elbows jammed into the guardsmen.
"Might as well look the part," he says.
Once the truck pulls up out front, Fleece hops out and enters the building. He sweeps past the front desk, waving to Swarthus.
"Hiya Swarthus, good to see you again. Kosloff told me to grab a file from her office; I'll just pop in and snag it."
Not waiting for a reply, he tries to hustle towards the stairs.
Cairbre stares at the Captain for a second, trying to size up his intentions. "I'm Ship Warrant Cairbre, of the tithe ship Nihillius. My associates and I have been sent on official duty to see why this rock hasn't been performing as it should."
"You haven't happened to hear anything regarding missing ghostfire, would you? If you'd like, I can keep it strictly off the record; just chitchat from one void-traveler to another," Cairbre adds with a nod.
Throne, this had better work. Pulling himself up to his full height, Atellus pulls out a small, black hide wallet, and flips it open, revealing his Abitrator ID.
"On the authority of the Immortal Emperor of Mankind, Jax. Maybe we should go inside."
Right as Fleece ran by the front desk, Silas followed suit and plopped his back against it. His speech was fast and slightly slurred together, manner casual and relaxed.
"So... Swarthus is it? Me and the well dressed fellow with the accent over there are kind of new to this place. Escorting personal for the Administratum or whatever, really a glorified babysitting job if you get my meaning. I swear that it's got to be the most boring thing ever. I mean we got in less than a week ago..."
He turns to Lupus.
"Was it a week ago? It seems like a freaking month though hasn't it?"
Without waiting for an answer, Silas flips his attention back to Swarthus. Words flew out of his mouth like the jabber of a bored housewife.
"So anyways, it's kind of been like a month for us. This planet huh? Lots of things to see but so very few things to do. Why the other day we were accosted by a group led by a ranting priest or something. Now I've seen my share of them, they were rather common from where I am from. I think the one that I remember best was Father Bellowimus, or Father Belly as we used to call him with affection behind his back. Well maybe it wasn't really affection, he was the one that would always yell at us for doing this or that and talk about how our souls were forfeit if we didn't shape up to become good servants to the Emperor. Now I'm as faithful as the next person, may his holy grace watch over my soul but back then we were just kids so stuff like that didn't always make sense...."
Posts
Fleece listens to the hushed conversation in the kitchen, but can't make out what's being said. He grins at Quintus, hoping to reassure him. He can feel the suspicion in the room, but isn't sure what his companions are worried about.
As the acolytes re-enter the main room, he scans their faces, hoping to read some hint of what they're thinking.
"Well, here are our forms, Quintus," he says, sliding the papers to the adept. "Everything should be in order now, right? I think my fellow officers might have some more questions before you go, though. Thanks for your cooperation."
"Emperor smiles on every good deed done no matter how small, Quintus. We appreciate the help in registration."
"Well... erm, officers, is that everything? I can give you my address and the address of house north... but... erm... I need to be on my way soon."
"You've given us more than enough, thank you," he says, as he opens the door for the adept to leave.
"So uh... he seems like a honest enough guy, I can see why the scary '=I=' would send his superiors in a nervous fit. I feel like we can trust him to a certain extent. Anyways, we have two counting houses to start off this investigation in, would you guys rather split up or go in one group? It may be better to hit both places at the same time because all of us going would be kind of stretching our cover story wouldn't it?"
Make a +20 Awareness Test Please (Results Follow, remember the honor system):
Fleece rises from his chair slowly, tucking his auto-quill back into his jacket.
"I think we should send our less Arbites-looking members to check the north counting house. Quintus' superiors might be more alert than he was. As for me, I--"
"Oh, hey, Quintus forgot his package."
"The pollen is just... dissapearing? Sounds like a likely excuse, but he didn't seem like he was lying to me. That means that whatever's going on, Quintus isn't in on it. Kosloff and Jax seem to be our best leads."
His voice is low, as though he's merely articulating his thought process rather than speaking to the group. The lho stick has burned to ash in his fingers, and he lights another that he lets hang unsmoked, forgotten like the other.
"I think it's time to split up. We're going to need to disguise Xerxes if we're going to play down the Mechanicus angle, though... but if I go with him and Cairbre to the northen house, hit up Jax, they should be able to spot any form of foul play, techological or... otherwise..."
"Agreed. Kosloff will likely be difficult to convince of current story. Should avoid meeting her with members it would be difficult to pass off as Arbitrators. Non-red robe should suffice for disguise."
With that, he turns his head to face the table. Reaching out with his right hand, he points at the package.
"Contents of package of interest. Care must be taken. Any tampering should be done in an undetectable fashion. Also with haste. Quintus may return."
Swiveling an eye towards Xerxes, Cairbre slides in, "It's not Quintus' package anymore is it? I means, it is right now here in our possession which implies that it would be ours, correct?" The power cuts out on the red bead for a half second, giving you the distinct impression of a wink. He pulls out a deck of the Imperial Tarot from inside his robes. "I say we ask the Emperor what he wants to do with the package. Draw one card; high card wins; winner gets to do what he wants with the package. Although myself, I'd keep it," he says as he spreads the deck across the table, face down.
Cairbre spends a few seconds with his head down reciting the prayer of the Exalted Emperor, Determiner of Destiny, before his hand snakes out and grabs a card. A frown crosses his features for a second before he turns the card over. "Istvaan. Well, looks like someone else wins." You can almost feel the failure radiating out from him, but it passes in a second.
Gamble = 92, which is seven degrees of failure.
More spoilers
Anyone who opens a window or goes outside sees a street preacher yelling at a crowd of terrified people standing around the front of your building.
"REPENT! THIS IS A SIGN OF THE HAND OF THE EMPEROR'S WRATH! HE CALLS FOR DEATH TO HEATHENS!"
The street preacher is wearing the robes of a confessor and has a laspistol clearly displayed at his side, and a chainblade across his back. IMPERATOR is tatooed across his shaved head, and his eyes burn with the righteous fire of the faithful. He is pointing at two trees that were planted on the sidewalk outside your safehouse, which were before vibrant(ish), and are now cracked, browned, and lifeless.
"For luck."
He reaches out and draws a card from the tarot.
He looks startled for a moment, then quickly hands the Decay card back to Cairbre.
He brusquely says, "No point in waiting. I guess I'm with Team South. Who gets the truck?"
With this Xerxes strides up the stairs, staff clicking as he goes. At the top, he approaches the weapons locker and opens his compartment. Carefully, he removes the las-carbine from his back and reverentially places it within the locker before closing and locking it.
He then removes the las pistol holster, adjusts it so the pistol sits on the left side and puts it back on under the robe before returning to the main room of the safe house.
"Damn right Xerxes, but maybe we should keep an eye on them for a few minutes before we disperse. I can't believe that plants mysteriously dying and the dissapearance of our pollen tithe aren't totally unrelated."
He checks the shotgun and his ammunition, saying a low prayer of benediction to the machine spirit of the weapon, then slings it over his shoulder. He then covers the whole thing in his rain-cape.
"Besides, if these yokels want to make trouble..." he taps the shotgun concealed under the voluminous coat "... old reliable here has seen off it's share of mobs in it's time."
"Understood and agreed. Point the way and I will follow."
He looks over to Caibre, "Perhaps friend, you're powers could have caused this to occur?"
"I agree we should leave soon." He fetches his equipment and after much rote slinging of equipment, the Vostroyan stands statuesque in his red great coat, with it's inlaid gold trim. The lasgun swung across his back resembles an antique hunting rifle more then a weapon of the 41st Millennium.
"Where to comrades? I go where the God-Emperor wills."
He checks the laspistol in the folds of his robes as he goes to the back room and begins to loiter by the backdoor.
You exit into the back alley, and besides a poor soul rooting through some garbage it's a relatively uneventful place. Dark black clouds are gathering overhead as you set off towards counting house north.
TEAM 2: Silas, Lupus, Fleece
You go out the front door to find that most of the preacher's crowd has dispersed at the threat of rain. The man himself is holding a squarish black box in his hands that you assume is a picter, snapping (you guessed it) picts of the dead trees. As you exit he greets you "Brothers! Is this not a glorious sign from the emperor?" before going back to his business.
Silas realizes he's holding the keys to the Cargo-4.
Once outside, Fleece nods to the street preacher.
As he clambers into the Cargo-4, he calls out, "Greetings, brother. My friends and I are pilgrims, traveling the sector in search of miracles from the Emperor. Have there been any other signs or portents of late?"
Also, once the truck is under way, I'll rip open the package and see what's inside.
It takes you the better part of an hour to navigate the twisted streets to the northern counting house. It's a large warehouse situated on the shadier end of the port, it has a large set of double doors on the south end and several man-sized doorways along the west side. Clustered around a hundred meters away is a low pile of docking clamps and shuttle launchers, only a few of which are occupied. As you approach the large, pre-fab, rockcrete bulk of the counting house you see a small commotion going on outside and hear yelling voices, several figures storm out of the open by doors and towards the shuttle docks.
When you reach the doors, you see a tall, thin man dressed in the grey robes of an administratum member. He is tall and gaunt, with a receding black hairline and a line of spinal plugs down his long neck. He seems rather... surprised to see the three of you approaching. Nevetheless, he reacts quickly "Greetings sirrahs, I am Fallus Jax, acting prefect of this counting house. What may I do for you today?"
TEAM 2: Silas, Lupus, Fleece
The preacher takes Fleece's question with some obvious measure of surprise "Iocanthos is a blighted place to go looking for signs of the Emperor brother! Nevertheless, there are many to be found, most of a darker nature than you would think. I'll be preaching here until tonight, we should speak later if you're doing the Emperor's work, I know this city like the palm of my hand!"
Silas quickly familiarizes himself with the Cargo-4 and the team is shortly on their way, shortly on their way to being stuck in traffic, that is. Fleece unwraps the package and finds something rather unexpected, a compact lasgun and two power cells.
Either way, after about half an hour of traffic the team arrives at the massive, imposing southern counting house. As they pull up to the gate, they are waved down by a guard in a grey-green cloak holding an autogun. "And what," he asks "brings you gentlemen on this fine day to the domain of his majesty's Administratum in Port Suffering?" He has little to no identification or rank signification on him besides a nametag sewn into his cloak labeled "SWANSON."
Team two you can make any comments that you want about the contents of Quintus' package, and then talk to the guard in the same post (for brevity's sake).
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1520241/
"It looks like you're going to be the one doing most of the talking. I'm sorry to say that I am horridly unfamiliar with these officious proceedings and so I cannot be of more help than simply a guard for you. I believe I speak for both Lupus and I in saying that we are men very used to taking orders. However seeing that our new friend was armed in meeting us at our safehouse for the first time, perhaps you will have more use for us than it seems."
With that out of the way, he rolls down his window and pokes his head out.
"In the name of the most holy Emperor, I am escorting an administratum member for his duties here at this location. Please identify yourself with rank and standing commands."
Thinking that perhaps he's done enough damage already, Cairbre takes a half step back, leaving his two companions to answer the inquiry.
No other action taken.
"Fallus Jax? Your superior, Quintus Martharrow, sent us. He thought you might be able to help us with some questions we have"
A brief smirk flashed across Atellus' face. This man will not thank his master for his helpful suggestion.
Jax gazes at you evenly as he responds, "Yes, I'm sure Quintus has been helpful to you very much, and I'll be happy to answer any questions you have. I only have a few minutes though, so please make it quick.
TEAM 2:
The man seems rather intimidated by Silas' military bearing. "Ahh... Private Swanson, Port Suffering Militia. I'm erm... I guess my orders are guard duty... ah, sir. You should know that Adept Kosloff is off world on duties right now, so if that's who you're looking for then you should probably come back later this month... she'll be back on the 34th. I believe that Adept Martharrow, head of the northern house, is acting head of the Administratum right now."
He pauses for a moment.
"Unless of course your business is not with Adept Kosloff, in that case you can move along inside."
In case you've forgotten, your business IS with adept Kosloff.
Sorry about the late post guys, I have a ton of work this week.
"Having problems with the traders, Jax? Those men do not look pleased at all. And when a man is displeased outside of a counting house, it's usually an adept that has him angered. Even though, of course, such true servants of the Holy Throne are most dilligent and professional in their efforts."
Still keeping his eyes on the commotion, Cairbre says to his fellows "Those men seem to be agitated, but it's hard to tell if they're about to breach or not. I'll try and scout what they're up to."
With that, the acolyte begins to shuffle towards the shuttle docks. As he walks, his hand absently traces from his psy-focus, to his lasgun, to his sword, and back again.
"Hmm... I wonder why our friend didn't mention that."
"I will remain silent and hooded. As explanation, a vow of penance for some sin of vanity forbids me from speaking or showing myself to others. You can explain this message as facts unrelated to the counting houses I decided to bring to your attention."
When sure the others have read the slate, he thumbs the erase rune and puts it back into one of the pouches.
"In that case, could you point us towards her office? I'm compiling a report for her, but she neglected to provide all the data I needed before she left. I'll just pop in and grab it. She told me to make myself welcome if I needed anything."
Jax responds quickly and snappily "It's not my fault when ship captains get here before schedule and demand cargo. Gentlemen, I reiterate, what can I do for you?" He's visibly annoyed, and his voice clearly displays it. He ignores Xerxes' seemingly strange behavior.
As Cairbre approaches, the group of men walking towards the docking clamps slow, then turn to face him. One steps forward, he is wearing a jaunted naval officer's cap and his face is worn and weathered.
"Some'd think you was a threat coming up behind men like that. Lucky I ain't one of 'em. Name's Fice, Captain Jeckyl Fice. Pleasure to meet you... ?"
An elaborately detailed laspistol is clearly displayed on his belt.
TEAM 2:
The private responds to Fleece abashedly, "Hrm... I'm not sure..."
"Calm down, Jax. We're here about the pollen, the ghostfire pollen. It's going missing, and we're going to find out why. Your superior said that you might be able to help us. So, tell us everything you know. Out here, or inside, it's your preference."
The smile begins to fade into a grimace.
"Hey come on now, the sooner he can get this pile of paperwork done the sooner we can all take a break. Swanson, if time was not a factor here then I would not have be driving this man here all round the port trying to gather this data or whatever. This is just wasting our time."
Jax seems unintimidated, "On whose authority should I be telling you this?"
TEAM 2:
Swanson replies uneasily "Well I dunno... tell you what, you go on inside and speak to Swarthus at the front desk, then if he gives you the go ahead Adept Kosloff's office is on the fourth floor." He waves the truck through the gate and you can see the looming shape of the pre-fab administratum hub.
"Might as well look the part," he says.
Once the truck pulls up out front, Fleece hops out and enters the building. He sweeps past the front desk, waving to Swarthus.
"Hiya Swarthus, good to see you again. Kosloff told me to grab a file from her office; I'll just pop in and snag it."
Not waiting for a reply, he tries to hustle towards the stairs.
"You haven't happened to hear anything regarding missing ghostfire, would you? If you'd like, I can keep it strictly off the record; just chitchat from one void-traveler to another," Cairbre adds with a nod.
"On the authority of the Immortal Emperor of Mankind, Jax. Maybe we should go inside."
"So... Swarthus is it? Me and the well dressed fellow with the accent over there are kind of new to this place. Escorting personal for the Administratum or whatever, really a glorified babysitting job if you get my meaning. I swear that it's got to be the most boring thing ever. I mean we got in less than a week ago..."
He turns to Lupus.
"Was it a week ago? It seems like a freaking month though hasn't it?"
Without waiting for an answer, Silas flips his attention back to Swarthus. Words flew out of his mouth like the jabber of a bored housewife.
"So anyways, it's kind of been like a month for us. This planet huh? Lots of things to see but so very few things to do. Why the other day we were accosted by a group led by a ranting priest or something. Now I've seen my share of them, they were rather common from where I am from. I think the one that I remember best was Father Bellowimus, or Father Belly as we used to call him with affection behind his back. Well maybe it wasn't really affection, he was the one that would always yell at us for doing this or that and talk about how our souls were forfeit if we didn't shape up to become good servants to the Emperor. Now I'm as faithful as the next person, may his holy grace watch over my soul but back then we were just kids so stuff like that didn't always make sense...."