Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Kelne]

"My apologies, Brother," Cryvus said, "The accusation was unwarranted." Indeed, he felt terrible about allowing his suspicions to run away with him. "I won't ask you to relieve yourself of duty, but I do think it best that you remain well away from temptation. For that hideous concoction to have such an effect so swiftly..." he shook his head, then applied himself fully to the dataslate.

Cryvus worked steadily on the slate with narrowed eyes, fingers tapping away, teasing out the information. What he found caused his eyes to widen, and he set down the slate slowly and carefully, "The riddle of steel laid bare," he murmured softly, "They have been assessing the psychic potential of members of the noble houses," he continued in deadly serious tones, "Some twenty-two candidates have been 'processed' thus far, including Saia Strophes, with many more judged suitable." He turned the slate so that others could examine it for themselves.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner considered this new information. It... well, it explained at least part of the Choir's goal, but it was only a piece of the overall puzzle. If only Orday had been able to get them more... At least he was beyond all of this now.

Still, this was worth evaluating. He rubbed his chin and considered what they knew. Not just from the data slate, but the Xenotech, brother Gear's erratic and out of character behavior, the reaction of the lady Strophes to the living drug, and his other acolytes' apparently recovery, or at least surface appearance of recovery.

The xenotech wasn't in all of their happiness scanners. It's purpose was unknown to them before... But the best lies were concealed in truth. A scanner within a scanner? To determine the psychic potential of those scanned. Brother cryvus recognized the creatures nearly right off, from just being close to him. As a psyker, he was amazingly powerful with that ability though. Other lesser psychics might not be able to, then? No, that was wandering off track. What was their purpose? Any number of other drugs could be used to keep choir members pleasantly intoxicated, with fewer negative reactions and draw less attention. The warp creature infected drinks served some other purpose; the intoxication was a convenient side effect. It felt like a stretch to suggest that the things could be enhancing the native psychic ability of exposed individuals. No, speculation wasn't going to help overly here. Obtaining a sample was as important now as it had been this morning.

He'd confer with Cryvus in private a little later on, where his speculations could be confirmed, denied, or otherwise tested. He looked at the Psyker with that thought, appearing tired in general, but still calm and civil.

"What did you discover today, if anything?"

[Jak Snide]

"Nothing," Masha snapped as she took the data-slate from Cryvus, apparently quite perturbed by this revelation, "we were waiting on the recovery of that data before planning our next move." She scanned through it quickly as she spoke. "They're collecting wytches. Unwitting, unsanctioned psykers. This is heresy of the highest order, and I dare not think what purpose they're turning them to. Their mere existence is a threat, especially if the Choir has been foolish enough to gather them in one place. One such untrained mind, lacking in faith and discipline, can bring about calamity. If something goes wrong, if the archenemy is drawn to them, we are looking at a calamity the likes of which this world hasn't seen in centuries."

They all knew the dangers of the unsanctioned psyker. The common man was taught to abhor them as unholy abominations, but as Inquisitorial acolytes they knew why the psyker must be hunted and controlled. A single such person, in a moment of weakness, could become a gateway to beings more terrible than any alien monster that lurked beyond the light of the Imperium. They had all encountered such entities before, seen comrades slain by them and still bore the scars of those encounters, whether physical, mental or spiritual. Men had been purged for being exposed to such things, their souls irrevocably tainted by the mere presence of the daemonic.

"I...would advice caution." the sister announced, addressing both Cryvus and Gunner. "We must not, can not fail to retrieve or eliminate whatever psykers this cult has gathered."

[ChristianC]

Mithras crossed his arms in thought as he heard this revalation. Twenty-two unsanctioned psykers? Amongst the nobles? He remembered too well how just one had been found in a nearby village on his homeworld, how something akin to a witch-hunt to chase her down had rippled through the people around him. And how the fray had killed her, refusing to turn over an abomination to the lord... and there were twenty-two of them here?

"What of this drink?" He asked, nodding to brother Gear and pointing at himself, "what purpose could it serve? We have found that it is no ordinary tonic, but is it connected to these tests?"

[Kelne]

"I wish I knew," Cryvus said, "I can think of a few possibilities, none pleasant, but without a sample, I see little chance of determining its purpose with certainty." He made no argument with Sister Masha's assessment of the situation. He would prefer to retrieve the hapless nobles alive, but it was all too likely they would all have to die. Given that they'd fallen into the clutches of the Choir in the first place, he had his doubts whether they would survive the testing on Terra. Though even those who failed would still serve.

[Capntastic]

Mik jostled about to get himself to a proper conversational stature, consciously trying to shake himself from the medication haze.

"So... we better come up with somethin' to snare 'em before more another one of those badasses shows up. I need another metal eye like I need a hole in the head. No joke. Heh."

Despite his grin, it was clear Mik was doing his best to maintain a serious tone without becoming too glum.

[Jak Snide]

The acolytes retired to their quarters in short order, some to sleep, others to ponder the events and revelations of the day, one to simply maintain the tools of his trade. Cryvus and Gunner remained behind, the senior acolytes requiring privacy for some matter or discussion. This was not the last that was seen for Cryvus for the night, however. With over half the cell suffering from injuries his unnatural, disconcerting but undoubtedly useful talents were in high demand. He was careful, ensuring that none of the Strophes' servants were about to witness living flesh knitting itself back together. The Lord Strophes and his daughter knew who they all were, but those that served them had been kept in the dark so far. He continued to tend to them the following day in the hours leading up to their visit to the Alabaster Court, though hours passed between each instance of him utilising his dubious gift.

Cryvus:

Spoiler:

While you are certain of your control over the power that flows through you there is that familiar, nagging sensation of impending doom in the back of your mind each time you manifest your talents. As the time to visit the Court grows near you begin to feel fatigue setting in. It's been a long time since you've used your powers this frequently.

Brother Gear had confined himself to his quarters, refusing to see anyone barring those who kicked down the door, in an attempt to free himself from the grip of addiction with a mixture of meditation and fervent prayer, the latter audible to anyone who passed by his borrowed chamber. Julia, meanwhile, had been seen wandering about the estate. She wasn't quite her usual exuberant self, but she was certainly faring better than Gear. This triggered a drastic improvement in Laurent's disposition towards the acolytes, the old man becoming less distant and more ready to speak with them. Masha disappeared early in the morning, sent away on a task by Gunner, returning shortly before the Lords Strouke and Bludnoch were due to appear at the Alabaster Court. She unhappily reported no success in uncovering information about the Goldenhand accounts that had been listed on the data-slate Orday had obtained. Unable to approach the banking guild herself without drawing unwanted attention she'd instead tried to work through the Ecclesiarchy who, as the Church of the God-Emperor tended to do, possessed a huge amount of wealth and thus had favourable relations with the banking guilds that tended to it. This approach, unfortunately, hadn't yielded results, the sister finding herself blocked by procedure and red tape that the story she presented couldn't circumvent.

(Between the end of the meeting the previous evening and by the time the acolytes have prepared themselves to head to the Alabaster Court they have each been healed 3 times by Cryvus. As a result Mithras has had all his wounds restored, Crisis and Gunner are only suffering from a single lost wound and Mikolas is on 6 wounds. This is, of course, assuming that nobody objects to having their flesh mended by the power of the warp.)

---

The Alabaster Court

Lord Gilgamesh Bludnoch and Lord-Colonel Rubeus Strouke arrived at the Alabaster Court in the early evening, accompanied by their loyal bodyguards Dulov, Biggs and Wedge, as their invited specified. Lady Borella had seen that it had been delivered to them earlier; an ivory placard inlaid with mother-of-pearl and engraved with a series of Imperial hymns. The Court itself was located in the mid-levels of one of the more prominent of Hive Sibellus' spires and, according to reports from Julia from the one time she'd visited there with Saia, took up just over a third of the layer. The fashionably dressed lords and their entourage were deposited near the entrance by the large sedan that had been hired to transport them there, the uniformed serfs who'd carried them there trying not to look relieved by their much lighter burden.

The entrance to the Court was carved entirely from milky-white stone, the archway projecting the majesty of any worthy site of the Imperial Faith without sharing the more intimidating aspects of traditional Imperial-Gothic architecture were absent. Three guards flanked the entrance, each clad in gleaming white carapace chest plates and vambraces with an ornate laspistol holstered at their side. Two men wore plumed helmets while the third stood between them and nodded to the group of nobles that had arrived just minutes before, ushering them past before looking towards the acolytes expectantly. The sounds of laughter and chatter could already be heard from within the Court.

(The acolytes are all dressed up again and, as etiquette demands, armed with only a single pistol and/or melee weapon each. Julia was able to give you a rough idea of the layout of the Alabaster Court from her previous visit, though she hardly explored it fully. Visitors are entertained on the the main level which incorporates a main hall, a librarium and a hall of statues which is mostly used to show off the Choir's wealth. The level below that, she believes, is where the food is prepared, while those who operate the Court have their quarters located on the upper levels. Lastly, it's worth noting that Mithras had a rather severe injury two days ago which is now entirely healed. His duel and maiming were not a private matter and, as such, strolling in with a clearly fixed arm may draw questions. As for Mikolas, he's been repaired well enough that can can operate normally, though he has the option of remaining high-as-a-kite on painkillers if he so chooses.)

[ChristianC]

Mithras stepped in with as muc... excuse me, Lord-Colonel Rubeus Strouke strode into the hallway with all the regality he could muster with a wounded arm. He'd slid it between a pair of buttons of his coat like a much-famous, not shorter than what the mainstream believes General-Emperor, and generally pretended to still be aching in his arm, using his left arm for greeting and such. He was otherwise well-cleaned up, and looked surprisingly refreshed despite his grievous wounds, and betwixt his charming demeanor and having blown the pants off of everyone there last night, he was enjoying being somewhat the center of attention.

Lord-Colonel Strouke gave the well-dressed guards an approving nod, liking the order and discipline and SHININESS that he saw, and continued on towards where the main festivities was being held, his boltpistol and chainsword where they should be, and his beard trimmed and oiled for the occasion.

[Jak Snide]

The guards moved to block Lord Strouke's way, their manner being both apologetic yet resolute. The helmetless one, presumably their leader, nodded his head respectfully.

"My apologies, Lords, but I am required to check your invitation before I can grant you access to the Alabaster Court."

Two white-robed attendants scurried around the guards, each holding a familiar looking device. "Don't worry." the guard captain reassured them, anticipating any unease. "They're just seeing how true you are to your calling in life." The acolytes submitted themselves to the scan as the captain went over their invitation, verifying it's authenticity. He was just about to usher them inside when one of the devices started to emit a shrill whine. It was pointed at Cryvus.

"Rejoice, brother, for you are true!" the attendant holding the harmony meter exclaimed, looking pleased on the behalf of Lord Bludnoch.

"Father Shale will want to meet with you, no doubt!" the other one added, a very chipper young lady. "You're so luckly! I'll alert him at once." Before either of them could raise an objection she turned away, a cheerful smile on her face, chattering into a small wrist-mounted vox caster.

"You're lucky indeed, my lord." the guard captain commented, stepping aside to let them pass. "Meeting our founder is a rare privilege, especially for those new to the Court. Please, head on in and enjoy yourselves."

---

They were ushered down a corridor towards the a large central chamber, passing a number of small offices, meditation and a grand librarium which appeared to be utterly deserted, save for a solitary studious reader. Music greeted their ears as they stepped into hall, a small group of musicians softly playing Imperial hymns from off to the side. Behind them was an entire wall of immense arched windows, the spaces between them nearer the top being filled with stained glass. The room was lit by hundreds of carefully placed candles, a few of them larger than a grown man, each mounted one on finely crafted candelabra of varying sized. It was not the near-darkness they'd experienced two evenings ago and it appeared that only the younger Choir members had elected to appear in full aether-weave, the others falling back on more reserved outfits. A stage had been set up in the centre of the court and it was not long before they heard whispers of a grand performance in the offing.

"Lord Strouke!" a voice exclaimed. "How simply marvellous to see you again." The source of it was none other that Lady Borella, dressed in a voluminous black and white dress now and accompanied by her immediate entourage. Those who had met them before noted that Siprit Daneen was among them, the androgynous nobleman giving Strouke a smile and a wink as they glided over. "I'm so glad you were able to attend." the matronly noblewoman expressed, her tone and posture indicating that she would have taken it as a slight had they not shown. "I was afraid that you would miss the production that the young scion of House Krin has arranged for us."

Cryvus:

Spoiler:

You've heard of House Krin before or, more accurately, Great House Krin. They're one of the most powerful, if not THE most powerful noble family in the sector, spread across a number of worlds. You know little beyond their existence, however, save that they are impossibly rich and second only in power to Sector Lord Hax himself.

(Here is a map of the Alabaster Court, or at least the areas you can see and freely explore or have passed by on your way to the central hall. Rooms marked 1 are offices belonging to those who work inside the Court, those designated 6 are clearly marked meditation chambers, the Southern 4 is the Librarium and the Northern 4 is presumably the hall of statues Julia mentioned. On a separate note, please state what weapons and equipment you've brought with you. Bodyguards/retainers have more leeway when it comes to the latter, but you're all still bound by the weapon restrictions of Hive Sibellus.)

[Kelne]

This was one of those situations, Cryvus couldn't help but suspect, which was bound to end badly. That effusive welcome had certainly settled the question of how the Choir were picking out psykers, and now they weren't going to rest until they'd gotten their claws into him. Well, they wouldn't find him such easy, unsuspecting prey as those poor souls they'd already caught. It took all his willpower to keep a mildly bemused expression at the fuss which had been raised over him. With the Emperor's blessing, he would have the opportunity to mete out His justice upon them before they put their own plans for him into motion.

For now, he took in the sights of the Court, noting the layout and which areas were subtly off-limits to visitors. It was entirely possible the psykers were being held somewhere on the premises. Perhaps even probable - Maintaining another complex with the kind of security they'd want around them would be a drain on their coffers, however much money the nobles might funnel to the Choir.

He let Mithras do the talking to begin with. Being lost in thought over his strange reception would be entirely in character, and he certainly didn't want to appear overly eager by fishing for information. Best to keep a nice, graceful line of retreat open.

[ChristianC]

Lord-Colonel Strouke raised a bemused eyebrow as he was asked for his invitation, and motioned for one of his bodyguards to produce it, clearly he wasn't going to do that himself. As the white-dressed servants began to inspect them he gave a sharp laugh.

"True to our callings? Who knows, Gilgamesh, we may have been fated to grox-herding all al..." he found himself interrupted rudely by a shrill whining, and turned to look at Bludnoch with a look of pretense jealousy on his face. "Well, obviously one of us made the wrong decision in life..." he chuckles a bit and waves it off with his good hand... until he hears what this entails.

"You get to meet with the founder? I agree, Gilgamesh, you are a lucky man, you must tell me about it once you are done." He gave another hearty chuckle, winced very convincingly as he brushed against his wounded arm, and continued on.

As they continued on, and the hymns reached his ears, Rubeus simply couldn't resist, and began humming the notes he remembered from his old marching days, still having a bemused, almost dazed smile on his face, watching the many wonders around him.

"Lady Borella! As beautiful as always!" He exclaimed in return as the woman greeted them, taking her hand and kissing it with a flourish, his pony-tail falling down across his epaulette all stylishly, and he even manages to suppress his imagined pain as he lifts his head. He also returns the smile of the androgynous nobleman Siprit, but his eyes remains fastened on the lady... and only barely does he allow himself to see if the servant girl Malene is with lady Borella. "I would not miss such an event unless He Himself demanded my service." he quickly followed this up with a one-handed aquila.

[Capntastic]

Dulov was grim, as usual, and was doing his best at his bodyguard role. Getting picked out like this was, as even he could detect, not part of the path of laying low. Nevertheless, he didn't let this phase him, and he casually wore the longsword that had so recently split a man in two. He wondered if this would afford their group some caution when being dealt with. Though he couldn't quite decide if that was part of the path of laying low either.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras' words were like honey, spoken with convincing sincerity and complimented by what he hoped was the correct body language. Polite conversation among the nobility was beginning to feel more like a dance now, as opposed to the minefield it'd been before. He just had to remember the right steps. He didn't see Malene among the matron's entourage, the woman presumably having been dispatched back to the mid-hive after one awkward evening of standing around at a soiree staged for her betters. Lady Borella was oblivious to his attempt to locate her, being far too preoccupied with her bolstered ego. The other half a dozen nobles with her had missed it as well, all except for Siprit, who let an amused smile play across his lips when he was certainly none but the acolytes were watching him.

"You seem to be in good health, all things considered." he said, glancing down at Strouke's wounded arm. "A lesser man would be bed-bound for a week after such a grave injury."

Dulov turned his attention to the retinues of the other nobles in attendance and confirmed that his display of martial skill two days ago had earned him some recognition. Most of the nobles were above observing him directly, instead delegating the task of observation to their own bodyguards. A couple of them gave him small nods of respect, both cautious and respectful.

Wedge had his attention drawn away by something quite different. An elderly noblewoman was being accompanied by a handsome young man, hardly an exceptional thing in itself, except that the man had the bearing and attire of a noble himself and looked distinctly uncomfortable about something. He occasionally glanced away from the conversation his partner was involved in and towards one of the white-robed men who seemed to be working the crowd, moving from group to group and exchanging a few words. Members of the Joyous Choir no doubt, though their robes were more ornate than the ones worn by the two who'd taken their harmony readings a few minutes earlier.

(It's possible for the others to slink off from the conversation with Lady Borella, Mithras being the only one who finds himself trapped currently, with nothing more than a polite excuse or, for the bodyguards, a menial task being given to them to perform. Crisis and Cryvus should check their PMs.)

[ChristianC]

"Ah yes," Strouke replied nonchalantly, ignoring the going-on's around him. If the bodyguards wanted to have stare-downs with the other guards, he would let them...

And to be frank, he didn't expect any threats right now, they'd shown to be made of stern stuff, and it would hardly be fit to kill them as soon as they'd arrived after being invited. No, that wouldn't be tactically sound.

"Indeed, the medication I was given was most impressive, truly everything here on Sibellus is of the highest standard." he answered with a polite smile, raising his good hand in praise. "I was delighted to be given this chance to meet you once more on such a short notice, lady Borella, it is a honor of the greatest kind to.. ah..." he noticed to look from Siprit, and momentarily lost his trail of thoughts, but then miraculously caught the thread, "to be here tonight."

[Besyanteo]

Wedge had indeed noticed the fellow, and how he looked just a bit out of sorts. It could be nothing, or everything, or anything in between. There was only one way to find out... And, to his minor and well concealed frustration, that was not to go over and check things out himself. Mithras was well occupied, which left Cryvus. He walked over and discreetly whispered into Cryvus' ear, hoping no one would think anything special about the exchange.

"Don't look just now, but you see the young man there? He's with an elderly noblewoman, and seems upset about something or other. He's got his eyes locked on a white robed choir member wandering the room. He doesn't stay with any one person too long... Maybe we can learn something?"

[Kelne]

Cryvus nodded in response to Gunner's words, having been staring, frowning, into space, "Sounds like a plan," he murmured quietly, "There's a psi-dampener active somewhere nearby," he went on, "It's a good bet the psykers are being held on the premises."

Letting Gunner take the lead, he set about trying to localise the source of the disruption. Not that it would be easy; Moving about and noting the strength of the effect as he went was about as well as he could do.

[Jak Snide]

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine my dear Rubeus. The invitation was the least I could do after you put House Talbador back in their place. Poor Raphael, thinking to make a name for himself by besting our guests from distant Fenksworld. Now there's word that his betrothal is in jeopardy." she said dismissively, emphasising that this was nothing more than rumour and conjecture. Certainly not a secret she'd learned and chosen to share with him.

Suddenly Lady Borella was not talking to him any more, another entourage approaching hers and engaging her in conversation. She was polite enough to give him a parting glance that conveyed a sense of reluctance to abandon him, perfectly calculated to excuse herself without giving insult. Strouke and his two bodyguards now found themselves free to wonder.

---

Gunner lead the way over towards the anxious young man, Cryvus following behind and looking increasingly distracted.

Cryvus:

Spoiler:

Once you focus your mind you can tell that the effect is being projected through the floors of the corridors you passed through on the way to the main hall, possibly the rooms leading off from them as well. Still, the effect is too strong for simple wards. Somewhere in that area is a damper.

They didn't reach the young man before something occurred; he split away from the older woman, hurrying towards a white-robed member of the Choir who was heading upstairs. He talked to her quietly for a moment before the woman shook her head and walked away. He grabbed at her sleeve, still speaking quietly but with great urgency. The eased her way loose of his grasp with some annoyance before speaking to him again and leading him towards one of the meditation chambers accessible from the hall. The young man looked pleased about this turn of events.

(Here's where everyone is currently stood. Mithras, Crisis and Mikolas are the green marker, Cryvus and Gunner the purple and the young man and the councillor the brown.)

[ChristianC]

Strouke felt a pang of guilt over having potentially ruined a marriage, but then again... the pang was lessened by the fact that he himself had been taking bullets from their hired killers (well, he and Mik, but still), and it was only through the Emperor's sanctioned witch-craft he was standing here right now.

Ironic.

So he did his best to smile and chuckle a little, waving off his achievement and looking properly nonchalant about it, and she'd even got the name of their homeworld right... well, of course, that was protocol, he guessed... but she seemed to have been at least impressed by his and Mik's performance yesterday, and that was good...

And then she was gone! He'd barely had time to react! He glanced after her and tried to smile, but he was not a little shocked... what was he going to do now?

Realizing he'd just look a fool if he stood around, hell, he'd already been doing that for almost half a minute, so without further ado he began to slowly stroll around, grabbing a glass of refreshment from a passing servant and sipping at it carefully... he couldn't be too careful now.

[Besyanteo]

How irritating. Not much he could do about it now, though. He had led Cryvus to this spot, and it would look more awkward for them to just stop than for them to keep going... So that was what they would do. They were somewhat committed to this action now, they might as well keep going. So, unless Cryvus stopped him, Gunner would lead him right after the young man and the girl in the white robe... at a respectable distance.

He hadn't noticed that the woman in the robe was a woman earlier. He was going to feel quite the fool if it turned out that these two were simply illicit lovers.

[Capntastic]

Dulov was grim and silent, certainly not appraising the non-mission-related motives of his master Strouke.

His first action that was not entirely passive was a subtle tilt of the head and raise of the eyebrow as Strouke made to snag a drink. A true servant could do no more to stop their master, while still remaining gracious to their host.

[Kelne]

His initial impression had been of a parallel with the poor woman they'd known only as 'Ma'. Desperate attempts to gain information, to be followed by a rather unsubtle discouragement of such questions. Perhaps, judging by the way he was being dealt with now, Cryvus had misread the situation. Or perhaps the Choir were more subtle about their discouragements. It wouldn't do for the facade to crack in front of all these happy little adherents, after all.

Mindful that Gunner literally couldn't intervene, Cryvus had to decide for himself whether or not it was worthwhile. In the end, he decided that any cracks in the facade really ought to be investigated, and quietly took the lead, doing his best to look as if he had simply ambled over.

"Something wrong, youngster?" he asked upon drawing level with the kid, in a tone of mild sympathy.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras was pleased to find that his drink was of the relatively mundane variety. He had no idea what it was, of course, save that it was probably alcoholic and wasn't propelling his mind into a strange and wondrous place after the first sip. Crisis and Mikolas followed in his wake, doing the best to look the part of dutiful bodyguards. Nobody seemed overly eager to engage them in conversation, though judging from the few veiled glances they received they were probably a much discussed topic.

Mikolas:

Spoiler:

While watching the over nobles playing at being pious you spot something unusual. At first glance it's just another of those white-robed priests moving about. You don't remember the others having hoods though. Nor do you remember them moving in such an odd fashion. There's something about the way he walks that holds your attention. He moves up a flight of stairs and out of sight.

---

The young noble glared at Bludnoch before remembering himself and adopting a mask of composure. The counsellor who'd been leading him glanced between him and Biggs before lowering her head respectively.

"Do you know this young man?" she asked hurriedly, not bothering to wait for a reply. "He seems to have lost his date for the evening. I was going to take him aside and look for her but perhaps he'd be better off with you. I've got many duties to attend to." She turned tail and made a quick exit towards the stairs leading up, leaving the young man flabbergasted long enough for her to make good her escape. What the councillor had just done was incalculably rude, especially since she probably wasn't a noble herself, yet nobody seemed to react to it. Those nearby simply lowered their voices and carried on with their discussions, a quiet titter or a hushed chuckle occasionally escaping.

"Thank you so very much." the young man said, failing to conceal both anger and embarrassment.

Gunner:

Spoiler:

He's failing to conceal something else as well, though he's doing a better job of it than Brother Gear did.

(Positions updated, the exclamation mark indicating where Mikolas saw what he did.)

[Kelne]

"My apologies," Cryvus said, all the while thinking that his initial assessment seemed by no means innaccurate, "I hadn't intended to disrupt your search. Although that one," he nodded towards the departing counsellor, a distinct tone of disapproval in his voice, "seemed more intent upon preventing a scene than on helping you."

[Capntastic]

Dulov cleared his throat, doing his best not to attract any specific attentions from onlooking nobles or their associates. He also gradually began to veer his view towards the odd-looking fellow he had seen, hoping his own fellows would notice and react accordingly.

[ChristianC]

Rubeus noted the glance he got from Dulov, but paid it no mind, well aware of the risk he might be taking... but none the less, he needed to blend in. Realizing he wasn't feeling the same thing, he raised his glass to a statue, as if to honor the craftsmen who had done it, and smiled slightly, nodding to himself.

For a little while more, he merely enjoyed the sights, until he caught glance of Dulov's look, and gave the subtlest of nods. If his bodyguard felt he should investigate it... then he glanced to Biggs, giving the mute bodyguard another nod. They'd have to decide on who were going to go after the man...

He returned his attention to the drink, and whistled a marching song for himself.

[Jak Snide]

"Yes." the young nobleman muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Here I am in dire need of spiritual aid and they don't have the decency to tend to their benefactors. I though I'd finally convinced them to help me but I suppose they just wanted to get me out of the way."

He straightened his attire, trying to observe the basics of etiquette and not to look miserably sick, before nodding politely to Cryvus. "I am Davian Numein. Might I have your name, sir?"

---

Strouke and his bodyguard drifted through the hall, occasionally picking up snatches of conversation both interesting and irrelevant. They got the distinct impression that the Alabaster Court was less a place of worship and more an exclusive club where the wealthy could play at being pious. They also noticed people begin to gather around the stage, though no indication had been given that a performance was about to begin. The armoured guards, similar to the ones at the front gate, directed their attention to the growing crowd and away from the stairs. There was an element of risk, but this was the best chance to slip upstairs they'd seen yet.

[Kelne]

"Gilgamesh Bludnoch," Cyvus said, similarly inclining his head, "As I've managed to disrupt your search for your companion, might I offer my aid? I should feel badly leaving things as they are." There was a note of geniune concern in his voice, as well there should be. The choir had quite enough victims already without leaving another to their nonexistent mercies.

[Capntastic]

Noting the chance, Dulov put his best foot forward, subtly altering direction- hoping to steer his comrades on towards discovery.

[Jak Snide]

Crisis followed as Mikolas moved away, glaring at the giant's back as he slipped towards the stairs while the nearest guard was distracted by some pretty young noble girl. Crisis kept pace, overtaking him and moving up the stairs quickly and quietly. By the time Mithras noticed the movements of his comrades it was too late; the guard had returned to keeping watch and any attempt to follow would have to wait. The nobles were beginning to shift to the south side of the hall, no doubt to prepare themselves for the imminent performance. He could see several actors disappearing into the curtained space beneath the stage, one of them so badly drunk that two of his fellows had to support him.

---

Mikolas watched his lithe friend slip one of his weapons from its concealed holster as he reached the top of the stairs. They found themselves in a short hallway, two dozen meters long at most. He glanced around and gestured towards the nearest of the two doorways they could see before heading through it himself, opening it quickly and quietly before slipping inside.

They were in a small lounge, modestly decorated and adjoined to three sleeping chambers. A number of large windows were nestled in the wall to their left, affording them a stunning view out over the sea tot the West of Sibellus. Guest rooms, perhaps? The tik-taking of his masked chum on his data-slate distracted him from such contemplations.

The assassin glanced over at Mikolas, his message half-finished, before tensing up and slowly putting the slate away. He raised a single finger to his lips, hidden beneath the black mask he'd been given back in orbit, and looked at his fellow acolyte until he received a response.

(Mikolas and Crisis are here, alone in these four connected rooms. They currently seem to be uninhabited, both in the sense that there's nobody else there and that the beds look like they haven't been used in a while.)

---

Both Cryvus and Gunner saw recognition in Davian's eyes when the name of Bludnoch was mentioned. "Ah, the pilgrims from Fenksworld. Lady Borella seems to think quite highly of you. Perhaps you can be of aid to me then." He paused to further compose himself, lowered his voice and spoke again. "I am in need of a certain libation, one which the Lady Borella is often able to provide. Circumstances have prevented me from obtaining it my usual fashion. I've been ill at ease since then and it's become apparent that I require some for my own spiritual well-being. Perhaps you could have a word with her for me?"

[ChristianC]

Mithras milled with the crowd, confident in Mikolas and Crisis. The two were talented, when they cooperated, which was thankfully more often than not.

A show was being put on? That was interesting. He still kept his eyes open, of course.. and he wondered quietly about the drunken actors... hmm...

Striding over to the curtains, he peered inside with typical nobleman arrogance.

"Is everything as it should be?" he queried, drink still in hand.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner had been debating how to tell Cryvus what he'd observed without being more obtrusive than they already were, when the young man more or less did him the favor on his own. Well, good. And on second thought, if he'd noticed it then he was just this side of assuming that Cryvus probably had sooner still. He was mildly frustrated they hadn't learned anything special here, until he reminded himself: They wanted a sample of the substance. They now all but had it, if they simply complied with the young man's request. He was loathe to help the boy drink any more of the worrisome substance, but they had to maintain appearances.

Of course, this all assumed that Cryvus was of the same mind. He waited to find out. It wouldn't be hard to whisper something to him on their way away, and for Lord Bludnoch to have a change of heart after the fact if really necesary. ... Probably.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras caught a quick glimpse of the dressing room beneath the stage; a dozen actors applying make-up or struggling into costume, a few stage hands checking over the props and the drunken man he saw being dressed by one of his fellow thespians. Surely they weren't going to put him on stage, were they?

Mithras:

Spoiler:

Though now you look at him you're not sure he is drunk and, in contrast with the other actors, looks a bit out of place. You vaguely recall something Julia said when she was teaching you about the nobility. She had said something about acting, hadn't she?

"Just as it should be! Don't you worry, the show will commence shortly!" someone replied excitedly, though he didn't catch who it was. A stage hand stepped forward to block his view, the man refraining from touching one of his betters while trying to compel the Lord Strouke to leave.

[Kelne]

It was perhaps a mark of the Choir's insidiousness that Cryvus had completely misread which of their nefarious schemes they were dealing with here. Nevertheless, he recovered swiftly, "I may be able to have a word," he said, not bothering to question what substance he was referring to. It was a potential opportunity to lay their hands on a sample of the stuff, which wasn't to be passed up, but enabling a drug user wasn't something that sat comfortably with him. Particularly with a drug of this nature. Was the date a fabrication? It certainly seemed so.

[ChristianC]

Strouke gave the intoxicated man a slight look and turned to the stage hand with a slight frown creasing his forehead.

"That one doesn't seem quite in it, it appears," he said with a voice half of concern, half of absolute curiosity at what was going on. He remembered something vaguely picking at the back of his mind, but he couldn't be bothered to learn every little piece of noble behavior in a day or two. "Is he all right?"

And, despite the stage hand's subtle gesturing, Rubeus simply wouldn't move back.

[Capntastic]

Mik glanced over to his partner in inquisiting and simply began to walk through doors, hoping to catch up to the robed fellow.

[Moving to the top nine-room, and then the room beyond it]

[Jak Snide]

Upstairs

Mikolas opened his chosen door and peered through. Or was about to when Crisis grabs at his clothing, tugging him backwards. The giant, unmoved by the smaller man's puny strength, looks around and inquires "What?" in the voice of Dulov. Only after a second, instant pull and the sound of footsteps from beyond the door does he back away. He waits several seconds for the noise to fade, the assassin glaring daggers at him through his mask. Once he's reasonably certain that there's nobody outside he opens the door. Crisis does not object this time.

He looks out into a hallway which stretches off to the right before ending in a T-junction. There's a doorway right across from him, identical to the one they'd walked through right after they reached the top of the stairs.

(Map updated. Mikolas can't tell which direction the footsteps came from or went in.)

---
Behind The Stage

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave." the voice said. Before Mithras knew what had happened he'd been shoved backwards, falling away from the curtain and landing painfully on his backside. At least Lord Strouke had been spared the indignity of anyone observing this humiliation. Beyond a handful of guards, that is.

---
Main Hall, South

Davian looked desperately thankful, the display undoubtedly unbecoming of a man of his status. He didn't seem to care, placing a sweaty palm on Lord Bludnoch's shoulder and whispering "Thank you." in a strained voice. "I won't forget this, sir."

Before he could respond the collection of nobles fell silent. Someone had taken to the stage.

It was a masked figure, cloaked in grey robes. The mask suddenly flickered into life, revealing shifting holographic features that studied the crowd with interest. "Call me Chorus," he intones, "and prepare for a tale of woe." Cryvus recognised the opening immediately. He'd once had the fortune of watching this very play while attached to the office of an Imperial Governor. It was the Fall of Cyperen, a tragedy following the trials of an Imperial Commander who is eventually betrayed by the people he governs, primitive citizens he had desperately tried to protect over the course of several decades. A good hour in total, if the cast didn't drag out some of the longer monologues. Gunner picked up the gist of it quickly enough as Chorus continued with the opening exposition, though unaware of the eventual outcome. A multitude of servants scurried near-silently across the hall, each couriering a seat to a noble lord or lady so that they would not have to endure the exhausting task of standing in one spot for more than a few minutes. Cryvus himself tended to by one of the Choir' own, Gunner left to stand as a bodyguard should.

Mithras, meanwhile, seemed to have evaded attention. The guards have moved around the front of the stage to get a better view and the lighting in the hall had dimmed as a handful of servants hurried about blowing out most of the candles.

(Positions updated slightly. Cryvus and Gunner are most likely in for the duration of the play, it no doubt being exceptionally bad form to wander off while the show is in progress. Gunner might have some leeway as a bodyguard however. Mithras is technically under the same obligation but he is currently unobserved, as far as he can tell.)

[ChristianC]

Oh, that would not do! He quickly struggled to his feet, glaring daggers at... well, at the curtains that had closed behind him... in front of him. Whatever!

He resisted the urge to... to... to stomp angrily, he was just happy that more or less no one had spotted this indignant scene. Brushing himself off, he once more rested his 'wounded' arm in his jacket before sneaking back around the corner to very slowly join the crowd preparing to watch this... spectacle. Hustle and bustle...

[Capntastic]

When in doubt, put your best foot out. Mik didn't bother with the junction down the hall; the splitup paths were just additional hassle. Instead, he slipped into the room right here next to him.

[Jak Snide]

Upstairs

Mikolas snuck through the door ahead of him and found himself within another bedroom, stripped of all decoration and with half a dozen small beds crammed into it. There was another door ahead of him and, given the lack of anything interesting in the room, he was tempted to keep on going. The assassin tugged at his clothing and cupped a hand around his own ear.

Someone was speaking in the next room over. The words were difficult to make out at first, muffled by the wall between them, but as he concentrated began to discern what was being said.

Crisis, Mikolas:

Spoiler:

"-dare you accuse me of such incompetence!" The first voice was male, his words flowing quickly and tinted with disbelief. "I have taken every possible precauti-"

"Save it. That slate contained alot of information." A second male voice now, with a clipped accent. "It's bad enough they know about your blind accounts. If someone finds out what's really on-"

"Impossible." the first voice asserted.

"Nothing is impossible." the second voice snapped back. "House Strophes has brought in professionals now. Orday was lucky for a while, but these ones are hard-cases. Now you tell me they've got a psyker wit-"

"He could be latent!"

"Shut up. We're compromised. I'm shutting down your operation until I can control this." The clipped voice took on a menacing tone. "Pray that I can control this, Caros. You know what happens if I can't."

"When you go back to Ambulon remind them how much money I've made for them." A nervous response. "Remind them what I've done for them."

"We'll see. Now stop shaking and get ready to play your part. The spook will be expecting a visit from you after the fops downstairs are done with their prancing about. Then you go can go back to fleecing the spire for all it's worth. Now, I've got arrangements to make. Don't disappoint me further."

They heard the heavy footsteps of the second speaker as he moved away, the door slamming behind him. They couldn't hear anything else through the wall after that.

(Map updated. The exclamation mark shows the direction the voices were coming from.)

---

Main Hall

Mithras joined the crowd in time to see the lead actor stumble onto stage. It was the drunk man from before, now dressed in the clothes of an Imperial Governor. His trappings didn't stop him from looking dishevelled or emaciated and was clearly startled as Chorus proclaimed "Hail Cypreen!" The quality of the lead actor didn't cause any dismay in the audience. Quite the opposite in fact; they watched with ever increasing amusement as the story began to play out around the clueless man, the other actors cleverly responding to the slurred words of Cypreen and improvising while guiding him through events.

Gunner:

Spoiler:

You're quite sure that man isn't drunk. He's been dosed up on something however, that's for sure.

[Capntastic]

Dulov's polished boots gleamed as his turned on his heel and made to quickly and quietly return to his associates downstairs. A quick toss of his burly mane indicated he wanted Crisis to follow him, post-haste.