[The Lord Inquisitor]

OOC: Really? Who made that? O.o

Raquelia was focused on the sword before her, absorbed in the matching of her will to its blade. They spun, twisted, extended and slashed together, in perfect unison. But the pair standing before her were unnaturally good at swordwork, and there were two of them, making matters worse. She didn't register the vox message from Drake, and barely noticed the bolt exploding a few paces behind her, shielded from its blast as she was by the cultist who was mere moments from losing her head anyway. Turning the spin into a crossways slash, she off-balanced one of the mercenaries, who was using a short-handled chain-axe to fight her, immediately bringing her sword back around lunge at the other man, whose weapon of choice seemed to be an electro-baton, of all things.

Knocking the weapon aside, finally, Raquelia flicked her sword around the baton and impaled his throat, tearing the blade to one side just in time to parry a strike from the recovered chain-axe wielder. She stumbled sideways from the force of the blow, as the teeth of the axe clinked against her blade. Releasing one hand, Raquelia let the axe push her sword away, before twisting it so the axe hacked off the face of the cultist who had been knocked over earlier, using her free hand to grab the last attacker's face. Die she willed silently, but with much force behind it. The cultist crumpled on the spot.

She realised a few seconds later what was wrong - those cultists had been keeping pace with her, something which should not be possible for mortal men. The daemon had been using them like puppets, controlling their action, forcing their bodies to work in ways they were never meant to. Turning, her mind withdrawing partially from the blade which was still held loosely in one hand, she drew her bolt pistol and shot the crawling, one-handed cultist in the face, then stood facing the possessed Lexilius. It laughed.

"Now wasn't that fun, inquisitor? Quite the workout, wasn't it? Ah, the silent treatment. Too tired to voice a response, I suppose." He gestured, and sent Raquelia flying across the room, despite the mental shields she had been raising for the past thirty seconds. She blew through two tables before finally crunching against the wall, hard. The blow dazed her.

Lexilius began to approach. "Always thinking you have the upper hand, that's what your kind are like. You have the False God on your side, after all, and he 'protects' you. Hah! Well, I will take your soul, human, and then we will see whose god takes more of an interest in it, won't -" The daemon's tirade was cut off as his path carried him closer to Drake's position. Raquelia had crashed a few feet from his barricade of tables, and was presently shaking her head, trying to clear it.

"What is this?!" The daemon roared, in a voice distinctly lacking any relationship to its host's. "A blank, no....a pariah! Where are you, you wretched filth!" The daemon used its power to summon a discarded autogun to its hand, and began firing randomly along the side of the wall. It almost looked afraid.

[Drake Dekko Yarn]

Drake was exchanging fire with the cultist when suddenly he saw what was left of the man impact the far wall. Raquelia had cleared her opponents and blasted him. It was times like this that he wished he'd had more training with guns.
Lex was currently talking, facing the Inquisitor. Drake took the time to concentrate a bit, recite a few mantras to the Machine God then found a discarded knife on the floor.
He was still reciting hymns and hoping Raquelia would offer a distraction to allow him to get close. He felt seething hate rise up from inside him when looking at the possessed man. He had no idea why, that kind of hate he reserved for Orks.
So be it, he'd use his rage. He used the mantras and concentrated on Lex.
Raquelia was sent flying right pas his barricade, he heard her crunch. His mind was on fire now. He keyed his vox, in a low voice:

"Priest if there's no one else outside then get in here now."

The Daemon was now walking towards him and Raquelia, spouting some kind of arrogance, something about worshiping the wrong gods. He paused as he neared the tables. A look like that of being caught with one's pants down in the lavatory while an assassin has a gun pointed at you appeared on the daemon's face. Then he had an autogun and started firing randomly.
Drake smiled, this was going to be funny. Painful and funny.

He flicked a piece of debris between the mess of chairs and the daemon's legs. In its panic it looked down.
Drake erupted from the barricade and smashed his powerfist into the thing's skull, right between the horns. It howled, the runes on its body dimmed noticeably.
He brought his fist down again on the back of the daemon's neck. He was enraged, he'd never felt so far gone on adrenaline in his life. The daemon fell to the ground and moaned, it probably couldn't feel its false gods anymore.
Still it wasn't down for the count yet. It swiped at his feet and tripped him. He twisted in mid air and landed on top of the daemon head to head.
It screamed, like no human ever could, it would tear any ears apart and yet it was music to Drake's ears. He was so pumped that he couldn't feel the partial gash along his right forearm from the thing's horns. He moved quickly, it was trying to get up and shake him off.
He got it into a choke hold, powerfist around its throat, the skin was horribly resilient but it wouldn't hold forever. It managed to get up.

"Greetings from the Machine God and his Omnissiah the God-Emperor of Mankind you unreal corrupted piece of warp shit!"

He rammed his knife into the thing's chest to get a better hold on it. He concentrated all his hate and rage and pain into making the thing suffer hoping that somehow it would make his effect worse.
Regardless the thing's body was trembling and was full of nervous twitches, he could almost hear the daemon inside screaming like a small rat caught in the grips of a python.
He felt the thing's claws rend the air above his scalp, luckily it was a bit taller than him and he couldn't quite get hit. Instead it grabbed his hand holding the knife and began to crush it. It wasn't as bad as he thought, its demonic strength seemed less. Though he felt that in a few seconds one bone would give then the others would to.
Drake returned the favour by putting as much strength into crushing the thing's throat with his powerfist. He felt the trachea give and now there was a very great gurgling noise coming from directly in front.
What a sight it must have been. Him holding a daemon possessed by the throat almost kissing the the thing's back.

Finally some semblance of sense reappeared in the thing's mind. It tried to gouge off the offending powerfist. It missed however and hit the disruption field. Drake decided he the thing's face wasn't ugly enough. He was going to try and grab the monster's face when he felt his right hand give out completely. It almost made him lose his grip. The thing's claws buried themselves into his hand with what was left of his bones. It was the most painful thing he'd experienced since losing his eye.
He stamped the thing's foot, to little effect if only to add insult to injury. It once again failed to dislodge his powerfist. It got its wish though. He let go of what was left of the throat and grabbed the things face.
Drake smiled, then grimaced, he felt another set of claws enter his left arm, the one holding the daemon's face. It was really trying to pull it off, and would eventually win. He decided to try something else. It might cost him the bones in his left arm.
He cast a glance back at the Inquisitor, she was getting up slowly. Probably had some broken bones of her own.
To hell with it.
He stamped the thing's right foot again then used his left knee to hit it behind its knee then pushed with all his strength forward.
It resisted the trip. He resisted the hand trying to dislodge his.
He pushed again. No good.
Fine, time to try it another way.

He let go of the thing's face, and it let go of him. and staggered forward.
Drake kicked it in the small of the back and sent it into the barricade. Then he grabbed its legs and pulled it down onto the floor and tried to get back into a good hold.
It batted him aside with its shoulder. And he almost fell over, but used his movement to bring his knee into the thing's spine. That seemed to hurt. He laughed.
Then he managed to get it in a bind, limiting the movement of the thing's arms while keeping his powerfist on the side of its head. Though it managed to gouge his right arm again.
He kept one of his legs on one of the daemon's and pinned as well as he could.

"Where are your ruinous gods now?"

Truth be told though he hope Raquelia would be able to help soon, or that the Priest would intervene because he was getting tired and the adrenaline was starting to wear off, pain was leaking in. He held the thing as well as he could.

OOC: I've been rolling dice for this one and they did not like my arms being in one piece.

[The Lord Inquisitor]

OOC: Hehe, reminds me of my New Vegas character. Always getting his damn limbs crippled. *sigh*

She'd only been aware of blurred motion as Drake launched himself towards the daemonhost, still recovering from the impact. She swore she could feel a broken rib grinding as she levered herself up the wall, dropping her pistol in favour of the sword. Slowly, things began to swim back into focus. The pariah was giving his all to the fight, it was clear. And the daemon was punishing him for his temerity, even in its weakened state. Having a powerfist wielded by a pariah clamped onto your face couldn't be pleasant for anything though, especially a being of the warp like that. Steadying herself with her sword, and muttering prayer-verses in honour of the God-Emperor, Raquelia slowly made her way towards the tussling pair.

She was weak, psychically more than physically, but that was where she needed her strength right now. She weaved her way between smashed tables, around a dead body, focusing her will as best she could manage. Determination overcomes pain. Will overcomes the body. Gathering her reserves, the inquisitor reached the worst of the pariah's influence she could handle, watching the ground-based tussle. "In two seconds, release him and roll clear." She whispered into her vox unit, hoping the damned creature couldn't hear her. It was still making a horrid gurgling noise from it's crushed throat, which could either be laughter or a scream. Probably a bit of both.

A couple of seconds ticked by, then a couple more. Then Drake suddenly threw himself, awkwardly, away from the daemon, scrabbling with his wounded arms to get clear. Raquelia stepped forward, raising her sword. "In the name of His Most Holy Inquisition, I name thee diabolus, your foul life is forfeit." The sword, backed up by her willpower, slammed into the host's chest, heading for the heart. The scream tore through his crushed throat, somehow, transcending the normal register of human hearing, turning into a psychic wail that almost made her release the sword. Then the body exploded, and Raquelia found herself flying again. This time, she made it through the damn wall of the shack.

This post has been edited by The Lord Inquisitor: 10 December 2010 - 12:57 AM

[Drake Dekko Yarn]

After the roll he leaned back against a table and tried to figure out how to bandage his left arm with a destroyed right hand. It was not an obvious task.
The explosion hit him, or more to the point body parts did. The explosion itself seemed to move everything but what was in his immediate vicinity. A horn bounced painfully off his burnt forehead before dissolving into nothing next to him. Daemons went out with a bang it seems.

Then he looked up and noticed that Raquelia was missing and that there was now a human sized hole in the wall.
He keyed his vox with bloody hands and said in a low voice:

"Cartinor, scrap getting inside, head around the building to the... right if you're facing the building, the Inquisitor has been blasted through the wall and will be in need of dire assistance. The daemon is gone though."

He slowly raised himself on his good leg and wrapped what he could around his left arm with his teeth. He also managed to do some basic unscrambling of his hand bones. He saw a lot of white for doing that.
On the way to the hole in the wall he picked up his knife and the Inquisitor's bolt-pistol. He sure as hell hoped the Priest had dealt with everyone outside, or else this was going to be one short last stand.

As he reached the hole he peered out and saw that no one was yet on this side of the building. He climbed through and found the Inquisitor. She was in bad shape, not all conscious and bleeding. Had quite a few more broken bones.

He re keyed his vox set to all allied channels:

"Please send some back up to the meeting place. Been a hard time. I suggest though that 1s and 0s be used by some for more information. Drake out."

He prayed to the Machine God and the Emperor that they'd be able to make it back to the cutter.
In the mean time he tried to re concentrate to lower his effect. He'd try and help Raquelia but he could not be too close to her in her state nor could he carry her to safety. He made hit and run bandages until she could take no more of his presence. He found a table leg or two and dragged her behind cover then took up an ambush position with the bolt pistol and waited.

OOC: I'm heading to bed. See you all in morning.

This post has been edited by Drake Dekko Yarn: 10 December 2010 - 06:11 AM

[Travaz Malakai]

Vox, singular engagement, Faelus Cartinor

Quote

Binary chatter:

Spoiler

Greetings, brother. Normal communications have 78% possiblity of being intercepted. Request update of Inquisitor status and team wellbeing at nearest convenience. Currently proceeding to sub level 64 via working elevator on schedule, unable to assist.

Caution: Yarn apparently Mechanicus lay brother, knowledge of binary chatter's existence. Impossible for Yarn to comprehend binary chatter unless recruiting member or Yarn himself are hereteks - if Yarn shows understanding of binary chatter beyond reasonable doubt prepare for subdual and capture of heretek. Reasonable doubt at your discretion, so be aware. Enlisting aid of Inquisitor in capture or informing Inquisitor of heretek status nonoptiminal but acceptable if necessary.

Blessing of the Machine Spirit be with you.

[Faelus Cartinor]

OOC: trying to retcon why I didn't come into the bar right away - I would have if I hadn't been asleep in RL when all of this went down

Faelus turned away from corpse towards the bar when a portion of the doorway glowed red and turned to slag. The rune mechanic fell sideways and down in what was his best approximation of a 'dive for cover'. *Sniper! Must have been getting into position while the others charged, else I would have been in trouble. Although it seems he is a terrible shot, so maybe not too much trouble* Lazarus had already shown he was capable of protecting him at short range, although the feeder mechanism of the bolt pistol's performance was still largely unknown. he scrambled behind a section of fallen wall only slightly higher than his crouched shoulders. A section of the plasteel glowed flourescent and burst into flame, matching the scarlet colour of the laser beam that stretched back through a window in a Hive building at the opposite end of the field from which they had entered.

His recording nexus showed 80% capacity, if he used it now he would definitely not be able to log data if he used the bolter again. *Seems real-time will suffice*. Hoping the smoke starting to billow around him would offer him some cover, he stood and turned, starting to sight on his assailant's position. No luck - he ducked back down as the beam lanced across his shoulder. Omnissiah, the pain. He would get hit in one of the places his still retained his original flesh. He grit his teeth as he did some quick calculations. 3.9 MegaJoules expended, so far, so if he's using a standard powerpack... He lifted his mechanical arm above the rim of the wall. A few ancilliary cables metled loose before the beam stuttered out. *Let's hope he's as much of an amateur as he's appeared to be*. Wincing with pain, he swung into position again and sighted. Sure enough, the cultist was frantically switching out powerpacks, no second rifle or assistant reloading for him. *Too easy*. Faelus toggled the ammunition selector to something particularly nasty. The searing pain in his shoulder had made this personal. Without augmentation he couldn't follow the needle as it sped away, but he did see the small speck of red appear on the cultist's inner ear, followed half of the man's face turning to liquid and sloughing away. Faelus imagined he could almost hear the gurgling scream of anguish.

Turning back to the bar, another message from Drake came through, instructing him to proceed around the building. Moving cautiously and not without discomfort, he made for the right of the building and around the corner. Yarn was on his hands and knees, weapons lying beside the camatose inquisitior. Yarn's lips fluttered in time with the message that came through over the vox band. Drake certainly was well versed in their mysteries. Faelus hurried over. "What happened?". Drake rolled onto his side, grimacing. "Damnit Priest, what were you doing? We could have used the help in there." "My apologies, I was covering the entrance and dispatched five cultists. I assume you encountered more formidable resistance?". "A warp-damned Chaos Demon is what we encountered." Faelus stilled his discomfort. A Daemon! Maybe it was better he hadn't gone inside, who knew what effect such a powerful investment of chaos would have had on his equipment. Tracking systems were normally buried deep within the hull of their ships to prevent corruption, if the Daemon had managed to override his interfaces with Lazarus...

The particularly grim thought path was interrupted by the burst of Linguis Techna from the Enginseer. "Malakai just contacted me, they are heading to level 64. What should I report back?" The pariah's steady gaze made the pain his shoulder flare intensely. "We're in no condition to move, at least not very far. They'll need to come to us. I think we've found our confirmation, hopefully the others have gathered enough information for us to decide what to do from here." Mirrored visor nodding in agreement, Faelus transmitted.

Quote

Spoiler

"Yarn, your mother was a whore who loved nothing better than taking it up the arse from Orks"

Probably the vilest insult he had ever heard a guardsman utter, he scrutinised Drake's face. No reaction, but a Pariah would likely have heard worse.

[quote name='"Vox' date=' singular engagement, Travaz Malakai"']

Spoiler

"Greetings Brother. Contact resulted in engagement with a Chaos Daemon. Yarn is heavily injured and the Inquisitor is unconscious. Estimated speed minimul even with low resistance. We are going to attempt to move to a secure position and hold it, you need to come to us. Transportation and medical supplies a must. Will relay coordinates when we are secure and you are inbound.

Chance of Yarn being linked to Chaos less than two percent at this time. Ability to understand the holy tongue is impossible to determine, will continue surveilance."

[quote]

OOC: have no idea how to go about rolling for my character or anything like that - if you feel things are going to smoothly for me feel free to throw a spanner in my gears

[Faelus Cartinor]

OOC: trying to retcon why I didn't come into the bar right away - I would have if I hadn't been asleep in RL when all of this went down

Faelus turned away from corpse towards the bar when a portion of the doorway glowed red and turned to slag. The rune mechanic fell sideways and down in what was his best approximation of a 'dive for cover'. *Sniper! Must have been getting into position while the others charged, else I would have been in trouble. Although it seems he is a terrible shot, so maybe not too much trouble* Lazarus had already shown he was capable of protecting him at short range, although the feeder mechanism of the bolt pistol's performance was still largely unknown. he scrambled behind a section of fallen wall only slightly higher than his crouched shoulders. A section of the plasteel glowed flourescent and burst into flame, matching the scarlet colour of the laser beam that stretched back through a window in a Hive building at the opposite end of the field from which they had entered.

His recording nexus showed 80% capacity, if he used it now he would definitely not be able to log data if he used the bolter again. *Seems real-time will suffice*. Hoping the smoke starting to billow around him would offer him some cover, he stood and turned, starting to sight on his assailant's position. No luck - he ducked back down as the beam lanced across his shoulder. Omnissiah, the pain. He would get hit in one of the places his still retained his original flesh. He grit his teeth as he did some quick calculations. 3.9 MegaJoules expended, so far, so if he's using a standard powerpack... He lifted his mechanical arm above the rim of the wall. A few ancilliary cables metled loose before the beam stuttered out. *Let's hope he's as much of an amateur as he's appeared to be*. Wincing with pain, he swung into position again and sighted. Sure enough, the cultist was frantically switching out powerpacks, no second rifle or assistant reloading for him. *Too easy*. Faelus toggled the ammunition selector to something particularly nasty. The searing pain in his shoulder had made this personal. Without augmentation he couldn't follow the needle as it sped away, but he did see the small speck of red appear on the cultist's inner ear, followed half of the man's face turning to liquid and sloughing away. Faelus imagined he could almost hear the gurgling scream of anguish.

Turning back to the bar, another message from Drake came through, instructing him to proceed around the building. Moving cautiously and not without discomfort, he made for the right of the building and around the corner. Yarn was on his hands and knees, weapons lying beside the camatose inquisitior. Yarn's lips fluttered in time with the message that came through over the vox band. Drake certainly was well versed in their mysteries. Faelus hurried over. "What happened?". Drake rolled onto his side, grimacing. "Damnit Priest, what were you doing? We could have used the help in there." "My apologies, I was covering the entrance and dispatched five cultists. I assume you encountered more formidable resistance?". "A warp-damned Chaos Demon is what we encountered." Faelus stilled his discomfort. A Daemon! Maybe it was better he hadn't gone inside, who knew what effect such a powerful investment of chaos would have had on his equipment. Tracking systems were normally buried deep within the hull of their ships to prevent corruption, if the Daemon had managed to override his interfaces with Lazarus...

The particularly grim thought path was interrupted by the burst of Linguis Techna from the Enginseer. "Malakai just contacted me, they are heading to level 64. What should I report back?" The pariah's steady gaze made the pain his shoulder flare intensely. "We're in no condition to move, at least not very far. They'll need to come to us. I think we've found our confirmation, hopefully the others have gathered enough information for us to decide what to do from here." Mirrored visor nodding in agreement, Faelus transmitted.

Audible Lingua Technis Static said:

Spoiler

"Yarn, your mother was a whore who loved nothing better than taking it up the arse from Orks"

Probably the vilest insult he had ever heard a guardsman utter, he scrutinised Drake's face. No reaction, but a Pariah would likely have heard worse.

Vox, singular engagement, Travaz Malakai said:

Spoiler

"Greetings Brother. Contact resulted in engagement with a Chaos Daemon. Yarn is heavily injured and the Inquisitor is unconscious. Estimated speed minimul even with low resistance. We are going to attempt to move to a secure position and hold it, you need to come to us. Transportation and medical supplies a must. Will relay coordinates when we are secure and you are inbound.

Chance of Yarn being linked to Chaos less than two percent at this time. Ability to understand the holy tongue is impossible to determine, will continue surveilance."

OOC: have no idea how to go about rolling for my character or anything like that - if you feel things are going to smoothly for me feel free to throw a spanner in my gears

OOC Edit, sorry for the double post, managed to mess that up.

This post has been edited by Faelus Cartinor: 10 December 2010 - 07:57 AM

[Drake Dekko Yarn]

When he saw the Priest round the corner he breathed a very audible sigh of relief. For a second there he thought the man had been dead.

"Am I glad to see you."

He let the Priest make contact with his counter part in the other group. After which:

"We need to find better cover than what we have here. Something closer to the lift for easier extraction."

He looked down at the Inquisitor and his arms.

"Though that might be a little too optimistic. Even if I was unharmed I could not carry her, and my combat abilities are now much reduced. This puts us in a bind."

He looked the Priest up and down, a few las burns himself. He could sympathize. If the Priest carried her they'd lose their best combat asset, if he tried she'd die of exposure for sure. What to do, they couldn't stay here.
Suddenly he had an idea.

"You said you cleared the field of cultists, and they're all dead inside. If we can get a table from inside with a few chairs we can throw together a small covered sled for the Inquisitor that I can drag without hurting her leaving you free to shoot. Keep an eye on her."

Drake climbed back inside and handed across 8 chairs. Now he just needed to get a table out the front door. He picked up a rectangular table, flipped it with his good arm. Put the two remaining bolt pistols on it and one las pistol. He grabbed a bucket of water from the bar and some electrical cables and tied it to the table's front legs.
He then dragged it out the front door.
Four cultists were dead and discoloured. Poison, good job Priest they deserved suffering he thought. He didn't see the fifth.

He rounded the corner and brought the table up to the Priest and the Inquisitor.

"No one else has shown up yet. I don't count on that being the case for long. Help me out here."

The Priest put the Inquisitor on the table and he put the chairs in a pseudo-arch over her and put her bolt pistol in her hands with her sword at her side. He stowed both the other bolt pistols and gave the las pistol to the Priest.

"I'm hoping you saw a place or two that are inconspicuous we can get to as quickly as possible."

The Priest started thinking. When he stopped and looked out into the field he seemed to have come to a decision.

Then his vox croaked.

Kynia GKal, Vox, Singular Engagement, to Drake, on 10 December 2010 - 10:50 AM, said:

"Kynia K'Gal here. We may be able to do both as we seem to have things in hand... for now at the least, although we are just getting started. If required, I can also try to pressure the bureaucracy into sending Arbites or a platoon of Guards to secure the location. This will however expose your group to the public eye. Kynia out."

He looked to the Priest.

"Well that's a bit of a relief. I'd say we call in the Arbites. The cult already knows we're here anyway. That and the fact that the Arbites is likely less infiltrated than the Guard. Though I'd suggest we still find another place to hold up till they get here."

This post has been edited by Drake Dekko Yarn: 10 December 2010 - 04:40 PM

[Justinian Funus Obitus]

OOC: I'm a bit unsure how I'm to handle my entry into this thread, so I'm waiting for Silencer's response.

[Faelus Cartinor]

Checking and clearing the laspistol, the slightly scorched Rune Mechanic nodded his assent. Whatever else he was, the Pariah was resourceful.

"The Arbiters are probably the best choice. I say we direct them here - this is the last place the cult knows that we have been, they will likely begin searching for us from this location. If the Arbiters arrive first, the cult should be slowed significantly unless there is another daemon accompanying them. In case they don't arrive in time we take cover in one of the buildings overlooking the field while we await the others. If it starts to look like they have found our trail I will engage."

Drake stood and tested the harness he had rigged up. "Let's go then".

Vox singular transmission directed at K said:

"Cartinor here, we're exposed already. Please direct a company of Arbiters to the meeting location. Report back in with an estimated arrival time if possible."

"That building about halfway up the length of the field should be sufficient, it covers both entrances and the Shack."

Drake leaned into the harness in obvious pain. As the table jolted over a piece of rubble, the Inquisitor groaned, her eyes fluttering open briefly. "Well we know she's still alive at least."

They proceeded slowly towards their destination, Faelus working with Lazarus to cover as much of their surroundings as possible. The two bodies present earlier had disappeared sometime during the fighting, other than a few rats there was no sign of life. The makeshift sled left little impression on the hard surface they traversed, but there were other ways to track a psyker. Reaching the doorway, Faelus turned again to Drake. "You think you can handle stairs?" Drake shrugged, "One my own probably, but not with the Inquisitor." Thinking for a moment, the Priest spoke again "Ideally, I would situate myself near the top of the building to get the best vantage point, but you don't appear to be in any condition to protect Raquel on your own should the fighting come close. I will remain here with you." The Pariah started to maneuver the sled through the doorway. "There's a good chance we'll need to make a speedy exit, I think sticking near the bottom is the best choice in any case. You mind giving me a hand?" Faelus bent to grip the far edge of the sledge, and together they entered their refuge.

OOC: I dunno what order Silencer wants people to start arriving here, so I'm going to leave us here. Hopefully I haven't taken too much of a liberty in not having any cult arrive while we moved.

[Drake Dekko Yarn]

They entered the small building. There wasn't much room or much left for that matter. There was a nice pile of crap that reached a higher window. He looked to the Priest.

"Well, that helps. You can remain close while having a higher vantage point. I say we move some of this rubbish onto the door to barricade it."

The Priest agreed. They moved Raquelia a bit further in, the Priest checked her wounds a bit more closely since Drake getting too close caused her to grimace. Meanwhile with his good arm and legs Drake kicked some rubbish into the door's path to block it. He then eased himself down into an ambush position in relation to the door. Cartinor had climbed onto the top of the rubbish pile and was trying to get into a good shooting position.
He looked down at his ruined right arm.

"Heh, unless I get some of the best treatment soon this thing's going to be useless. Maybe you can help me with it getting a new one later?"

He smiled to himself, he was sure the fatigue had made that seem funnier to him than it actually was. Though he probably would need a new one.
He took a good pull of water from the bucket then handed it to the Priest.

"Take some if you're thirsty, and the rest we keep for the Inquisitor. She'll be needing fluids later if were here long."

Drake then leaned back and held his bolt pistol aimed at the door.

OOC: We can play the wait for backup but any combat should wait for Silencer to return at the end of the weekend.

[Travaz Malakai]

Vox, singular engagement, Faelus Cartinor said:

Spoiler

Regrouping impossible at present - due to cultist-sabotaged elevator, team is split between myself on sublevel 62 and the others on 61. Personal mobility reduced from repairable damage, others are unhurt. Logical course of action is to continue with operation while G'kal and/or Obitus provide support and supplies to you. Bantenhope concurs, Raquella regaining consciousness and ordering extraction will override this, of course.

Information on Yarn is welcome, and upgrades him to currently preeminent ally amongst current 'associates'. Recommend continue observation but at reduced priority - note, Yarn has been designated as a 'pariah'. Term unknown to myself (comedic aside: not enough time studying under a Magos Biologis, I bet) so extend wariness as per usual.

Will await next status update when Inquisitor awakens, will inform you when the others reach me and we depart for sublevel 64. Omnissiah be with you, as always.

[Faelus Cartinor]

Red robes now soiled at the hems, the tech priest shifted his position atop the pile of detritus. Keeping one eye out the window and one eye on the doorway he spoke out the side of his mouth to his companion.

"Just got a message from Malakai - their group is split up and he is injured. It sounds like it will take him a while to repair himself. They're on sub-levels 61 and 62 in any case, so it looks like we're relying on Kynial for the time being." Drake chuckled "They made incredibly good time, they would have had to have flown to get so far down so quickly. We should be ok though, that G'Kal woman looks like she knows how to throw other peoples weight around. We should get an extraction soon."
"I certainly hope so. How is she?" Nodding towards the camotose Inquisitor.
"Unchanged."

Faelus adjusted himself back into his previous position. Where was everyone? The lack of either friend or foe seemed anomolous.

Vox single channel broadcast to Travaz Malakai said:

Spoiler

Copy, we will rely on the administrator for support for the time being. We had hoped you had not proceeded to the sub-levels yet.

I'm guessing the term Pariah has some relation to psyker powers. A negative effect on the Inquisitor has been observed and I gather it offered him some effaciousness against the Daemon. Being around the man is beginning to cause discomfort, akin to being in a room full of broken machinery. Observation will continue.

May you continue to walk on the path of the Omnissiah

This post has been edited by Faelus Cartinor: 13 December 2010 - 12:53 PM

[Drake Dekko Yarn]

OOC: I don't mind any one having my character speak in their posts to make dialogue, though I would appreciate it if he didn't pass comments (the more subjective and suggestive kind) on other characters (except when making observational statements on a character's empirical condition).



The Inquisitor had at least stopped making any small movements and seemed to be stable. The Priest was as well perched as he could be and aiming out the window, the door was blocked.
Drake kept the bolt pistol on the door but allowed the rest of his muscles to relax. He fashioned a kind of propping seat from the detritus and went limp, except for his left hand and eyes.
He decided to try an once again see if he could minimize his effect, considering the Inquisitor was a mere 3 meters away, hoping for once not to be interrupted by or be in the middle of a fight. Even if it didn't work at least it would help him control the pain that his right hand was in.

[Faelus Cartinor]

OOC: Sorry, wrote that in a bit of a rush and I thought it sounded like the kind of thing Drake would say. Will refrain. Feel sick as a dog, so I am heading to bed early. Not much to say until silencer gets back anyway.

[Justinian Funus Obitus]

The half track settled down just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. With the sudden fall of heat came fog, quietly seeping up through the cracks of the ground to do battle with the cooling air. Yellow fluorescent light brought looming, flickering shadows into light. Serpent-like tendrils twisted around themselves, grasping hungrily for every flicker of motion flashing through the grey murk. It was like being back in the jungle.

Justinian had chosen a landing point some distance away from the rendezvous. He had come expecting the clattering of projectile weapons, the bursting lights of plasma discharge and screams of fallen men. Instead all was silent. Caution, then, was the better choice.

The thread of his feet sounded like thunder to his ears. The fog amplified and changed sound in strange ways, but objectively Justinian knew that his steps would have sounded muffled even to someone walking by his side. Other people, however, were not so skilled. Already two groups had thundered past him, heading in the general direction of the bar where most of his group were stuck. At first the numbers had made him believe the Administratum had gotten involved, but it didn't take long for the subtle discord of the steps to disabuse him of such notions. Justinian would recognise the sound of Chaos anywhere and here it was out in the open. Flaunted. There was no way a presence of this size could be the the result of some isolated cultist operating on a short and limited scale. There had certainly been fifty, maybe as many as seventy, cultists storming by so far. Under no circumstance could such a large number, certainly only a fraction of the whole presence on this planet, go unnoticed by the Administratum. The inquisition should have been called months, if not years ago.

This would be bad for the Imperium, which was pleasing in many ways. Luckily, Justinian's lust for cultist blood far outweighed his hatred of his current employers. Filed teeth flashed in the dancing light of an overhead lamp. There would be plenty of blood tonight.





OOC: Right, I might've changed things from Silencer's plan, but this seemed more interesting. Sure there are many cultists, but their number counts against them in this fog. Also, I had planned to include the fight all the way to the bar here, but it just got too long for one post I felt.

This post has been edited by Justinian Funus Obitus: 13 December 2010 - 07:42 PM

[Justinian Funus Obitus]

A cigarette flashed in the fog like a lighthouse warning ships to stay away from the reefs. A quiet, almost human cough led the way of a happy wheeze.

"Great Nurgle, man! How can you put your lungs through that?"
"It's fucking enjoyable, that's why."
"But to draw poisonous gas through one of your only three organs for breathing... Don't you like to breathe?"
"It keeps me calm, alright?"
"Calm? You're shivering like a goblin on the rack!"
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
"I don't see how my f.."
"The other mouth too!"
"..."
"You want to know why my hands are shaking?"

A rustle in the fog. It could've been a nod. Or a shrug. It probably didn't matter.

"My hands are shaking because we've not heard from group 1 in more than half an hour. Moments ago we heard gunfire and now group 2 isn't calling in either."
A momentary burst of red ligh shows the pause to be nicotine related.

"And now" the figure continues, coughing but a little.
"And now our illustrious squad champion has decided to lead us straight there! We should flee like sensible men. It's the inquisition man. The Inquisition!"

Another glow, another cough. A serpentine burst of light reveals an almost Cheshire-like grin of filed teeth, dark fluids trickling down and out of sight. The fog shifts and the vision is gone.

"Fuck man! Did you see that?" The cultist pulls his gun out and opens fire into the dark.
"Shoot guys. Shoot!" The rattle of his bolter-pistol echoes ghostly and alone.

Alone...

"...Guys?"

A wisp of breath gently caresses his neck. A smell of iron seeps through the chemicals of the air to trickle in through the man's nose. A rasping voice whispers happily from behind.
"No, little cultists..."

An intake of breath is followed by tiny, sharp points scraping against the skin just bellow the paralysed cultist's ear.

"...there is only me"

OOC: Not very fond of open office this forum is.

This post has been edited by Justinian Funus Obitus: 13 December 2010 - 08:35 PM

[Kynia G'Kal]

"I'm starting to enjoy this," she said into her vox, calling up the other groups. "Kynia here, gentlemen. The Inquisitorial office on Hive 17 is going to lean on the local law enforcement to come to the aid of the Inquisitor.

I demanded two fire teams, but I doubt they will supply that. That is the good news. The bad news is, the local Adeptes Arbites chief that they will lean on to get that aid, is probably in the pocket of the cult. I doubt he knows anything about demons, more probably, he thinks he is dealing with just another smugglers ring, but he is definately getting paid by our adversaries. I guess whether or not you'll get help instead of getting arrested depends on whether or not he is the person Inquisitor in training Orlov goes to."

[Drake Dekko Yarn]

Drake listened to G'Kal's message. This was a big problem with the Inquisitor unconscious there was no way to make sure the Arbites didn't arrest them. Not to mention in his state he wouldn't be able to frighten the man into cooperation, it would end with them all dead in some cell killed by cultists the Arbites will have let in. Not to mention there might just be an infiltrator in the Inquisitorial Office since the problem here has gone unchecked for years.
Frankly he'd feel more comfortable dealing with Eldar. Ok, maybe not.

He looked up at the Priest, the man's face hidden by his visor, propped and ready to kill. No sense in annoying him in conversation right now, specifically since all it was mostly to help himself spread the misery, which was a bad idea.
Bringing his gaze back down he looked to the Inquisitor, she was doing as well as she could he imagined. Problem is he couldn't count on her to help in the upcoming confrontation. It felt wrong seeing someone who'd just killed a daemon left in that state.

Corrupt Arbites. That was a problem. How did you deal with corruption? Normally you'd punish the offender and make sure he never started again. They were in real position to punish nor ensure uncorrupt behaviour.
His father's voice came ringing back. Of course!
He couldn't do it himself but others here could.

He keyed his vox to G'Kal:

Vox, Singular Engagement, to Kynia GKal said:

Ms. G'Kal I have an idea about dealing with the corrupt Arbites chief. If he's a corrupted by money, and not chaos, then his price is easy, we just need to offer more to him than the others. I suggest we ply the man with promises of Imperial rewards and favours. Ideally a monetary reward for assisting the Inquisition and say a transfer to a better posting than Arbites chief. A nice cushy job with as much possibility to make money on the side on a nice world. Material rewards might work as well.
We'll also have to work an angle that doesn't actually call him out on his corruption. I suggest we have Mr. Starsearch do it. He seems to be versed in smooth talking. I'll relay a message to him as well. I'd do it myself, but heh, it wouldn't work. I'll suggest my strategy to Mr. Starsearch, hoping he'll comply, though I'd ask you to give him details on the Arbites chief. He'll need it to better persuade the man, present the right rewards. Also maybe find a way that Starsearch could intercept him or that the chief winds up near Starsearch.
Let me know what happens.
Drake out.

He rekeyed his vox to Starsearch:

Vox, Singular Engagement, to Talic Starsearch said:

Cpt. Starsearch. This is Drake. G'Kal contacted me. She might send Arbites down to the meeting point as back up. She assumes that the chief is in the cult's pocket, though chances are only in a monetary fashion she thinks he doesn't know what is really going on. I hope that's true.
Assuming it is we need your help. A man corrupted by money is man easy to convert. In my current state I can't do it, besides you seem to have a better skill with words than I do. I suggest we ply the man with promises of Imperial rewards and favours. Ideally a monetary reward for assisting the Inquisition and say a transfer to a better posting than Arbites chief. A nice cushy job with as much possibility to make money on the side on a nice world. Material rewards might work as well. We'll also have to work an angle that doesn't actually call him out on his corruption. What I mean by that is talk about how helping the Inquisition usually sees people rewarded and that sometimes we need to get in deep with the enemy to have information truly damaging to them. In other words make his corruption look like counter infiltration, should stroke his ego. It's a suggestion, and frankly you are the one who can pull this off, no one else can.
I'm not sure if there's any way you could have Ms. G'Kal send the chief to you or that you could intercept him. If you can or can't let me know, I'll adjust my plans accordingly. I've also asked G'kal to give you as much info on the chief as possible to help you.
Drake out.

He'd need a back up plan in case this all went to hell. He slowly rose and used his eye to get a good idea of the building's integrity. He saw an old window that had been crudely bricked up. His powerfist could break it with ease. It could make a nice escape route.

"Mr. Cartinor, of what you can see and remember did the side streets around this building seem like a good path to use for an escape?"

The Priest began looking around outside, from his vantage point and quickly peaked out to try and get a look at the side street. Drake assumed he began calculating attack vectors and would then give his response.
Either way they had to be ready. He moved a heavy piece of rubbish to one side of the blocked door. Leaned it against the frame, set up a stick in the barricading rubbish. If the door was opened the stick would dislodge the large piece of masonry and it would fall and hit the intruder or block the entrance. He made small holes in the rubbish and hid them, nice ankle breakers while setting up sharp shards facing up so that falling would be far more annoying. He left a clear path for the Priest to get down.

His back and chest were yelling at him, his right arm was throbbing in massive amounts of pain from all the work. Still it was needed, every little bit helped.

Finally the last problem. The Inquisitor herself.
Any chance on getting out alive would depend on the Priest being combat effective. Carrying her was thus suicide for the whole team.
Again, he couldn't because she'd die simply being carried on his shoulder.
They needed her awake, they needed her autonomously mobile.

He assumed that she had a concussion, a bad one. A few broken ribs, hopefully no broken leg bones. He scanned her with his eye. No evidence of any real damage to the legs, but the torso was another matter. If she ran she'd puncture a lung, but she could still move, and maybe with her powers she could keep her ribs in place long enough to flee.
He also assumed that any warp related damage was under control by his presence at this range.

"Priest, I'm thinking we need to try and wake her up now."

Drake stood poised with the water bucket.

This post has been edited by Drake Dekko Yarn: 14 December 2010 - 07:05 AM

[Talic Starsearch]

OOC = i would love to help, but i am currently unconcious and captured by cultists, ill have to say my vox fell of when i was captured and left were i was kidnapped so they didnt hear your message, I was messaging G'kal when i was captured so i suggest you make ur char antsy about the fact im not replying to your message, also with silence gone for the next few days we are going to use Alens as a npc,