Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner made a show of nodding back quietly, his right index finger tracing the curve of one of his bolters. Truthfully, he hadn't been anything like prepared for what had happened, and it frustrated him... but it wouldn't do to let that show through. So instead he just tried to look dark and menacing, avoiding speaking. Mik had just pulled all three of their asses out of a fire. Gunner was going to remember this when it came time to report.

[Jak Snide]

The Spires

"We need not look to know that House Krin is in ascent. They've been one of the great powers in the sector for far longer than father can remember and hold great favour in Lord Hax's court." The young Strophes said. "Not that I wish to dissuade you, of course. The Lucid Palace is always a remarkable sight to behold and there is more to the hierarchy of banners than which one flies the highest. Shall we charter a flyer, or do you wish to take in its full grandeur from a less elevated position?"

---

The Barking Saint

Nobody bothered the acolytes as they made their way out. Mikolas had made an impression, one that enforced the notion that they weren't eclectically dressed muscle with a wealthy master and little ability. That left the alternative; they were dangerous men who could afford to harbour their peculiarities. Stepping outside, they found that little had changed during their course of their meeting. The candles may have burned down ever so slightly, but the middle hive was just as busy as it had been before.

(Both groups as a whole face a choice now; you can continue to explore and investigate your respective levels of hive society or we can timeskip back to House Strophes where reports can be shared and discussed. The latter can also include some investigation handled in brief/in the background, should you wish.)

[ChristianC]

Mithras gave the two options a brief thought and then shook his head slightly, resisting with some effort his usual swivel of eyes, instead trying to look at Julia directly, which was hard enough. "I would have chosen to go the route of the streets, as it is only proper for a soldier of His grace to behold the wonders of mankind while humbled..." he chewed his lip and then nodded, "it would perhaps seem more proper to view it from up high."

[Jak Snide]

The Spires

Julia flashed another one of her impish grins and linked arms with the ex-guardsman. "You really must stop thinking like a commoner." she said quietly. "Now let's see about that flyer."

---

House Strophes

It was several hours later when the acolytes reconvened at House Strophes, gathering in study they'd occupied when they first arrived. For Cryvus and Mithras it had been a day of leisure and spectacle, the Lucid Palace they'd only managed to glimpse during their arrival being far more impressive when viewed from a less elevated, if still lofty altitude. Julia had done her best to explain the byzantine system that governed the prestige each banner fixture accorded to the house that occupied it, but it was clear that the exact details were beyond her. Sister Masha did a little to improve their understanding, stating that each "petal" of the palace would indicate the nature of the Sector Lord's favour towards the houses whose banners hung upon it, though she could not elaborate further. In the end they had managed to determine that it was indeed House Krin that currently held Lord Hax's favour, with House Verence being a close second.

For the acolytes who'd ventured to the mid-hive it had been a day of human traffic and cramped passages, the crowds growing further in size as the hours ground by. Brother Gear had returned from his errand with news of success. He'd been granted access to Ecclesiarchal records and had turned up information on the Joyous Choir's founding. The man responsible was called Caros Shoal and while the records said nothing of his life before the founding of the cult it had tracked his progress in detail over the past five years. He'd started a long way from the spire, appealing to the downtrodden citizens of the mid-hive and building up a loyal cadre of followers. The cult gained prominence as its more noteworthy members did, the records charting more than one rapid ascent into a position of power. It was just over a year ago when the Choir gained the attention of the young scions of the nobility and was catapulted towards greatness, the donations of its new patrons affording it a holding in one of the spires that stood above the Western edge of Sibellus. While the so-called Alabaster Court was no true Cathedral the Ministorum regulator who had inspected it had deemed it "proper" in the eyes of the Emperor.

Information was passed among them as Sister Masha reminded them of their schedule. The soiree hosted by Lady Borella was the following day, commencing in the late afternoon, while their meeting with Orday was the day after. The bounty hunter had sent a message to House Strophes, a sprawling market-district of the mid-hive known as The Hustle to be the meeting place. More specifically, they letter told them to meet "beneath the broken moon," though it failed to offer an explanation for what that meant.

[ChristianC]

As the evening (presumably) approached, Mithras had shifted into something less grandeur, and wore now only an elaborate, cream shirt of a sharp cut, a sash of deepest red and a pair of uniform pants of the same military green as what his uniform was made of. He had listened to what the others had learned with a thoughtful look, considering the next day. He was glad to hear that there hadn't been any problems not averted by the other acolytes, the powderkeg that was Mikolas and Crisis not having gone off.

[Besyanteo]

(Sorry for holding things up guys)

Gunner went with Mikolas and Crisis through the middlehive, seeking more information about the Choir, and this drug they were making use of. He wanted to avoid being obtrusive about it for now, so he made a point of not name dropping if he could avoid it, waiting for the other party, whoever they might be, to do that for him. It wasn't a perfect strategy, but it might avoid the potentially messy business of word getting back to the choir that some military bodyguards were poking around in their private business.

(To speed things up, I'd like to try to handle things in brief with Jak at next opportunity.)

[Kelne]

Cryvus took in the gathered information thoughtfully. Progress was being made, though he suspected Orday might be in deeper trouble than he realised. Still, there was nothing to be done about it, and looked at in a certain ruthless light, the information he might yet gain for them outweighed any risk to him. There didn't seem much point in chewing over the information they had thus far. Shoal's history as the cult's founder certainly put him in line for interrogation come the day, and the cult's narco-dealings, while further evidence of the Joyous Choir's perfidy, probably didn't come as a great surprise to anyone.

"I think we should discuss tomorrow's soiree," he said, "And our own roles there. I doubt we'll see any attempts at recruitment by members of the Choir this early in our time here, but it's important to be sure that we present the right facade not only to maintain our covers but to attract their attention."

Cryvus was deadly serious as he continued, "While I believe that infiltration would be the swiftest way to gather information on the cult, such an approach has its risks. At the very least, somebody within the cult is well aware they have abducted Saia, and might seek to do away with any relatives who started nosing around."

[ChristianC]

Mithras sat back in the chair he'd been in since Cryvus had voiced his concerns, and nodded, folding his arms thoughtfully. "You're right, I believe suspicion will be laid on us simply for being "related" to her, and making a sizeable donation would perhaps put us in better grace, but brings up the subject on where we'd get that money... the funds given to us are well, but can we really part with them as simple as that unless we're sure it will bring us closer into the circle?" he scratched his beard thoughtfully, "we are 'competing' with nobles and merchants with vast, nearly endless wealth..."

"Then again, we're outsiders, easily influenced by the latest fashions and trends here on Scintilla. Maybe that will be enough to have them 'try' us as it were?"

[Jak Snide]

Gunner's team hadn't encountered any trouble while in the mid-hive. Mikolas had settled into his role of Dulov quite nicely, radiating enough menace to ward off anyone who might have considered preying on the overdressed gunmen while guiding them towards an area of the hive he'd remembered from his previous stay. It didn't take long for them to find a congregation of the Choir's followers. Despite the cult's adjusted focus it still benefited from a solid base of supporters among the masses, several of whom were now full time volunteers and all too eager to talk. Not that they had much of interest to say. They confirmed the tenants of the cult, to seek acceptance and happiness of your station in life and thus become "true," and offered for them to stay and hear the afternoon sermon. The latter proved to be benign enough, though it undoubtedly favoured the more pleasant aspects of the Imperial Creed and far less commanding than the ones Gunner remembered from back home. Most notable was that the priesthood seemed to be entirely genuine in their beliefs. Either they were ignorant of the other dealings of the cult or very good actors.

"The Choir may not know that it was I that has been making inquiries into her disappearance." Laurent added. "I trust Orday to be discreet enough in that regard."

"As for your status as foreigners," Masha added, "it is something that may play to your advantage. The cult might be eager to spread their variant of the creed to other worlds, even one as poorly regarded as Fenksworld."

[Capntastic]

Mik was eager to recant the tale of their hive-adventure, happily slipping into Dulov-speak when appropriate.

"Heh, yeah, Fenksworld definitely seems like a place that could use some sort'a cheerin' up, cult or not. Anyways, it really seems like these folk are all dedicated an' all. I mean, doesn't mean the higher ups are up to somethin'. Even the prettiest face hides a skull 'n' all that."

[Besyanteo]

Gunner nodded in agreement with Mikolas. He would have filled in some of the blanks about the interview with Orday where appropriate, leaving out his brief reprimand of Crisis. Necessary as it might have been, making a show of it was definitely not.

"We at least have the lead from Orday. I can't imagine what the Adeptus Arbites would care about some new drug, though. That's never been something they cared about."

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis typed on his slate prior to showing it to Laurent. There was something of urgent issue that was worth sharing.

'If you mean that Orday wasn't to attract attention, his behavior showed that he may have possibly failed in accomplishing such a task. He was relatively hasty to give out the information, and seemed to want to leave as soon as possible. It appears he attracted the attention of someone with resources, and they could possibly be in pursuit of him. It is possible that this includes the Choir itself, though it may be a third party. Regardless, given the sort of finances people in this sector have, and the level of backing of this cult, it is easily a reminder of the high stakes we are dealing with in our attempt to infiltrate this organization--but at the same time, if it is indeed the Choir that he has gained the ire of, then there may be issues...'

[Jak Snide]

The elder Strophes frowned, accentuating the lines of his face, as he read over Crisis' message. "Perhaps my trust was misplaced."

"Or perhaps the information he obtained is valuable enough to warrant a more severe response than such snooping would usually provoke. Did the man give any indication of the nature of the data?" A hint of concern crept into Masha's voice. "Was your meeting observed?"

[Capntastic]

"There was a little curtain, an' I don't think anyone was followin' us."

[Jak Snide]

Masha nodded. "This is good, though extra precautions may be advisable. I believe that it would not be out of place to weapons suited for for personal defence to the soiree tomorrow." The older Strophes nodded in agreement.

"There has to be a distinct level of trust between all those attending a gathering for worn weapons to be considered rude."

The Sororitas nodded. "Still, there are many ways in which the enemy may strike at us unseen. Be on your guard at all times."

(If you have anything else to discuss or precautions/preparations to undertake then please post away. Otherwise we'll move onto the soiree the next day in a 2-3 real days time.)

[Jak Snide]

The evening passed swiftly once the meeting concluded. The acolytes retired to their wing of the estate to tend to whatever tasks they thought necessary, enjoy the luxuries that were currently available to them or simply sleep. The only disturbance they faced that evening was when a servant delivered a package to Crisis.

(Everyone should check their PMs.)

---
Lady Borella's Soiree

The large open courtyard in which you stand rests high in the hive spire. The northern wall of the room is a single massive window that gives a magnificent view of the setting sun and the restless sea that swirls about the granite cliffs along the western reaches of Hive Sibellus. The room is dark, lit by a few evenly spaced candles, the luminous garments of the assembled nobles following the fashion demands of aether weaving and the beverage containers. All present are drinking from spun glass cups formed with intricate whorls. The joliq-spiked punch has been augmented in some way, causing each glass to resemble a softly glowing star, soon extinguished by the drinker. To the casual observer it would appear that someone had snatched the night sky and bound it within walls of stone.

Julia, dressed in an aether weave garment (as where they all), seemed to be taking malicious delight in introducing them to as many people as possible under the names that they had assumed. They were unfortunately having mixed results. While a handful of nobles did express some passing interest in acolytes most turned their noses up at the first mention of Fenksworld, politely excusing themselves in a series of increasingly inventive ways. To make matters worse, it now seemed that they'd been separated from Julia, the young woman having completely disappeared from sight. Brother Gear had been lost as well, though he'd at least had the decency to inform Crisis that he was off to get a drink.

(Crisis, Cryvus, Gunner, Mikolas and Mithras are all dressed up fancy and have been seemingly abandoned in the middle of the party. They're unarmed, save for a single pistol of choice, and unarmoured in the case of those who haven't got Mesh Vests to hide beneath their clothing. They may, at your discretion, also have already sampled some of the drink. Sister Masha has not joined them, nor has Laurent Strophes.)

The good Brother wasn't too difficult to spot, thankfully. He was engaged in a rather animated conversation with a man wearing a gleaming tabard that resembled a nebula. There seemed to be a great deal of activity towards the northern edge of the room, the gathering of so many aether weave clad nobles illuminating it more brightly than the rest.

Mithras:

Spoiler:

One other thing catches you eye; a young woman who is woefully under-dressed for the party, seemingly making do with a shawl lined with small glowlights. She stands separate from any group and looks even more bewildered than the acolytes probably feel.

[ChristianC]

"Oh yes, we have certainly had the occasional uprising to squash," Mithras said with a look that perfectly mirrored the noble (He'd already forgotten her name) who he had been locked in conversation with, neither parties wanting to excuse themselves, but growing more and more uninterested in the other. In fact, Mithras intended to talk on about the proper suppression of a minor incursion until the noblewoman walked away, but then he caught sight of the woman... There was something about her...

He excused himself as best he could, glad lady Julia wasn't there to see him perform this faux pas, and took a drink from a passing waiter, sipping at it carefully (the amount he'd had during the entire party could easily fit into one of the glasses with plenty of room to spare) and sidling over towards the woman, pausing occasionally to pay others attention, making sure the target didn't realize she was being covered.

Then he sprung the trap. "I wonder whose idea it was to have the party in this style, I look like a bunch of Fenksworld methane-bugs in mating season." he chuckled a little, feeling lumps of ice in his stomach as he caught on that this was perhaps the most inappropriate way to approach a stranger on a nobles' fest. With a crude joke.

[Capntastic]

Mik was standing near the refreshments, slowly and steadily sampling what he could. His experience taught him that a party that was slow to start like this tended to get more exciting the more full of food and drink the guests were. Being a large and sturdy fellow, he knew he would have to work a bit harder to get there. Of course, such base pleasures were not the only thing on his mind; he was cautiously laying eyes on any attractive women present, repressing a smirk at the thought of what a harsh desert wind would do to their clothing.

[Kelne]

Cryvus had been rather withdrawn and thoughtful during the day, having spent part of the morning either writing in or consulting a thick book he had brought with him. If he had drawn any insights from this, he was keeping them to himself thus far. At the soiree, he had done his best to present himself as a genial but not greatly remarkable person. Not that he'd had a great deal of opportunity for in-depth interaction with others thus far. No matter, it was the appearances that mattered for now, and this was not their only line of investigation.

By rights, Bludnoch really ought to be a bit of a drinker, but every fiber of his being rebelled at the very idea of getting intoxicated, and with good reason. He had therefore confined himself to the very occasional sip of his original drink for politeness' sake. Right now, he was doing his best to project an appearance of hidden dejection at his apparent pariah status as the party went on around him.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras

The young woman look at Mithras like a cervidae caught in headlights, eyes darting about desperately as she struggled to respond.

"Th-that would be Lady Tanae Borella, milord." she said meekly, gaze diverted downwards as if looking at him directly would cause offense. "It's the height of fashion, I'm told."

---

Mikolas

Mikolas enjoyed a steady intake of drink as melodic music filled the room, played by some unseen band. The partygoers flitted across his field of view, dozens of bejewelled ladies and strutting gentlemen all glowing softly thanks to their garments. None of them stopped to talk or even paid him notice, the less extravagant design of his own outfit and his general appearance indicating that he was of lesser stock. They didn't even seem to be collecting their own drinks, relying instead on the few waitresses who weaved throughout them or on their own servants to keep them well on the road to intoxication. Even the servants seemed to be steering clear of him, though, at least until a stout man with a revolver strapped to his thigh struck up a conversation.

"Quite a night for the lords and ladies, ain't it?"

---

Cryvus

The Lord Bludnoch was not left undisturbed for long. He heard the approach of Brother Gear before he saw it; the priest was still disguising his accent, but he'd given way to his inclination for bombastic speech.

"Ah, my lord!" he called out, making his way through the crowd with a little too much force with the man he'd been talking to in tow. "Might I introduce the Lord Sokrat Authwaite. I've been telling him about our action against Cold Trade smugglers and he was most insistent that he make your acquaintance."

Sokrat was a sturdy looking fellow in noticeably expensive clothing, beyond the usual level of opulence he'd come to expect from those in attendance, appearing to be somewhere in his 50s. He advanced on Cryvus and, disregarding every bit of etiquette the psyker had learned about since he arrived, seized his hand and shoot it vigorously.

"Your man can tell quite a tale, though I hope he hasn't embellished too much! It's good to meet someone who knows their barrels from their backsides, a rarity in Sibellus I assure you." His accent was strange, unlike anything Cryvus had heard in Sibellus thus far.

---

Crisis & Gunner

The other two acolytes had been mostly ignored, though a handful of nobles had deemed it worth their time to speak with Gunner. He'd gotten the impression that he'd failed to make any real impressions, though so far he'd avoided offending anyone. That changed when a ruffled looking young man marched over to him, barely stopping in time to perform the exact form of approach that accurately conveyed his displeasure.

"Are you unable to keep your little monster under control?" he asked curtly, face flushed red with anger.

[ChristianC]

Mithras chuckled and waved the whole thing off, feeling a chill down his spine; he certainly didn't enjoy being called 'milord', even if at the moment it was justified.

"I was told so as well, but sometimes one needs to take a step back and consider it from a, aha, neutral perspective, don't you think?" he tried to size her up, but presumably she was someone's servant, there to aid, see but not be seen, all that.

"You seem a bit lost, so from one outsider to another," he chuckled and rubbed his beard a bit, "what's breathing down your neck for you to be as jumpy as a, and excuse my language, cervidae caught in the headlights?"

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis narrowed his eyes in annoyance and frustration, though nobody could tell from behind the mask he wore. He had planned on sneaking around the premises, finding both good locales in the case of a necessary escape, and possible information on his own terms--he never was much for chatting up other people for information, particularly those who could probably care less about him.

...and then there was this ridiculous outfit. Forget whatever Julia says. This "Aether Weaving" trend was problematic to say the least. The clothing had no practical purpose whatsoever, she INSISTED he not keep his armored cloak, and the outfits provided negative camouflage, running counter to every single unwritten rule of combat. These people lacked any sort of sense. Any sort at all.

Especially this one bothering him right now. As a bodyguard, he smuggled a mesh vest underneath his outfit--a pity he couldn't get any better armor, but some was better than none, as far as this went. His hands stayed to his side, ready to draw the Carnodon he had taken along should the angered man prove to be a threat toward him or Gunner; he desired to take the Orthlack as well, but unfortunately the insistence of his client's daughter and problems from the rest of the group resulted in the abandonment of common sense for the sake of expedience.

He despised this to no small degree.

[Capntastic]

Mik sipped.

"I s'pose. Wonderin' when the real fun starts, though."

[Besyanteo]

Gunner took quick mental stock. Mikolas was being almost entirely avoided, so he wasn't the issue, unless snacking at a party where food was provided was aberrant behavior; probably not. Crisis, while looking high strung as ever, hadn't offended anyone. He would be hard pressed, seeing as he never spoke. Mithras and Cryvus were both still in character and doing well. He'd been doing... well, not great, but he hadn't ruined anyone's evening either. Which left Gear.

He couldn't see Gear clearly, but since neither he nor any of the other 'body guards' were causing an issue, it was out of his hands as far as their personas were concerned. True to his character, he chose words that were respectful, but his tone indicated that this little prissy man was risking a boot up his ass. It felt right for a Fenksworld bodyguard.

"If you have an issue, I must politely refer you to may patrons Rubeus Strouke and Gilgamesh Bludnoch. They are there."

He would gesture the man in Mithras' and Cryvus' respective directions. Hopefully the little man would quickly grow a brain and move on.

[Kelne]

Having someone actually seek him out after an evening of brush-offs was a mild surprise to Cryvus, though if he was an off-worlder himself, that would go a great way towards explaining it. He gave Authwaite a warm smile, as of someone meeting an unexpected kindred spirit.

"They are rather inward-looking, aren't they?" he asked mildly, nodding towards the other revelers.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras

The woman's apprehension seemed to recede, if only to be replaced by mild astonishment at the fact she was was being talked to in such a manner by a better.

"I wouldn't compare myself to one of your status, sir." she mumbled, still humble in the presence of a supposed noble. "I'm here because of the work I did for the Joyous Choir. Lady Borella invited me here in recognition of it but....I don't think I belong here. Nobody had even said a thing to me until you came along."

---

Mikolas

"Oh, that'll be in a few hours time. The young ones'll get more drink in their head than smarts and start forgetting about proper protocol and the marriage daddy arranged for them. Then you've gotta break it up without gettin' yourself dumped back downhive and outta work." The man looked up at Mikolas and smiled wryly. "I'm guessing you haven't got any such worries, right? Name's Lucas, by the way." He nodded amicably to the acolyte.

---

Cryvus

Authwaite scoffed. "Self-absorbed is more like it. They could do with learning from their ancestors rather than merely putting them on display. Scintilla didn't become the power it is by delegating all of your business affairs to those beneath you, nor by hiding in gilded spires and ignoring the world around them." A pack of fellow nobles near enough to overhear the conversation made a show of pretending that they hadn't. "Tell me, sir, have you ever had the pleasure of visiting Gunmetal?"

---

Gunner and Crisis

Gunner's insolence was not lost on the man, but neither was the careful wording of the response. The two young nobles he'd been talking to previously, a pair of siblings who'd introduces themselves as the Somaleds, were taking care to conceal their amusement to the extent that etiquette demanded, if only that.

"I don't know what liberties they give low-born scum in the cesspit you sailed in from, but in civilized society we don't leer at our betters. Your masked serf has been staring at my fiancée for the past hour!"

The enraged noble gestured towards a woman in an dress that outlined her figure, leaving very little to the imagination, who was currently looking at Crisis as if he were something she'd just stepped in.

Crisis:

Spoiler:

You remember her. She'd been observing Mithras and, in response, you'd designated her as a potential threat and kept an eye on her. It seems that the pair of ridiculously fops have decided that you were...it's completely ridiculous. You have a strong urge to strike the man, even though you know it would only endanger the mission.

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis glared hard at the enraged noble, near-incredulous in his assumption that he would do something so ridiculous as show interest in anyone in that manner. He had clear, rational, logical reasons, both as himself and as his role as a bodyguard. Grabbing his data-slate, he rapidly typed into the device, before showing the message to the infuriated highborn.

'I assure you, there is a zero percent probability that I would be monitoring your fiancee out of whatever illogical reasoning you had deduced from my actions. I am a bodyguard, and thus it is my duty to fully ensure the safety of not only my patrons, but their other servants. This involves active surveillance of any and every potential hazard at any and all times, as well as the potential danger assessment of each person acting suspiciously towards my patrons or their servants, myself included, and act upon said assessments accordingly. If you do not want yourself or your fiancee to attract attention, then I would advise that both you and her do not display such undue interest in any of us in such a suspicious manner that I consider either of you to be such threats.'

[Jak Snide]

Gunner and Crisis

The man looked at the slate for a moment before he realised what was written there. The next thing anyone knew the device was skidding across the ground, slapped from Crisis' hands.

"Did I speak to you? I was talking to the man who holds you leash, dog!"

Several conversations abruptly came to a halt and a great deal of attention was now focused on them. Even the Somaleds no longer appeared to be amused.

(Note: Mithras is aware of this development, the conversation he's having being near enough for him to be alerted. Cryvus and Mikolas remain oblivious for now.)

[ChristianC]

Mithras chuckled and shook his head, feeling, in fact, sorry for the girl. She was just as out of place as he was, but he at least had the cover of pretending to be a noble. He'd realized, after just a few minutes, that if he didn't think about it, just ignored the fact that these men and women were who they were, he could actually enjoy himself.

"The Joyous Choir?" His voice carried a hint of bemused curiosity, "...I... I don't think I've heard of that before. Is it a..." he waved his hand around discreetly as he looked for the word, "a... part of the Imperial cult?" He swirled his drink around in its glass, waiting for the girl's response when...

...Emperor... What were they doing now? A stern look on his face he walked over to where Crisis, the nobleman and Gunner were standing, puffing himself up like some bird defending its territory.

"What is going on here?" He said with a tone that indicated that, obviously, someone not from his retinue was responsible. "Biggs, Wedge, what is the meaning of this?" he looked at the other nobleman, frowned and then folded his arms, "Explain yourselves."

[Capntastic]

Mik glanced around and nodded.

"I... am Dulov."

And then he finished his drink.

[Kelne]

"Alas, no," Cryvus said, "Though I gather it is an altogether more lively place than Sibellus." A somewhat worrisome thought, given the lively times they'd had downhive. Then again, heretics would presumably have a far harder time terrorising and preying upon the citizenry of Gunmetal City. "I may have to make time for a visit at some point."

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis seethed while the dataslate slid across the floor, leaving a much less than pleasant sound as it made the initial impact. That imbecilic ponce had taken things a bit too far. Were it not for blowing cover and otherwise causing problems for the mission, he would have been tempted to bring his Carnodon to bear and see how quickly it would take for the noble's face to go from red to white, and the air around him from standard to fouled. Unfortunately, he had no option for that, and instead, hitting the clear button on the slate and typed, the characters appearing on the cracked screen, intending to report to Mithras precisely WHAT was wrong.

'This imbecile here is of the mistaken notion that I harbor some deviant interest in his fiancee, as well as the mistaken notion that Wedge here is my superior as opposed to my equal in standing. I have attempted to convince him that he is mistaken, and that his fiancee has presented herself as a threat--something that I, as part of my profession, am to monitor and assess constantly, and that in turn, if he doesn't want himself or his fiancee under my scrutiny, they should not act in a suspicious manner. However, he clearly refuses to listen to anything remotely resembling logic. I would prefer you clear this up as soon as possible.'

The guardsman's tactics may be horrible, but hopefully he would see the benefits of such clear logic, Crisis thought as he showed the slate to Mithras, his growing hatred for the Noble class of Scintilla not showing any sign of stopping.

[Jak Snide]

Mikolas

Lucas nodded, taking a sidelong glance at a passing noblewoman in a revealing dress. "Not much of a talker, huh? Guess some like the help that way. Take old Lucias Crey over there, for example. His personal bodyguard all have their tongues cut out at birth. Servant family, been servin' his line for centuries. Rumour has it they talk with a mix of body language and tech trickery. Who you working for, anyway?"

---

Cryvus

"Hah, lively! I suppose you could call it that. You'd do well to bring come armed if you ever decide to pay a visit. No law is respected as much as that of the gun over there. I assume a martially minded sort such as yourself is armed. Might I see your piece?" Sokrat had already spied Cryvus' weapon, of that he was sure. The man was merely being polite, the first indication that he was actually concerned with etiquette.

Brother Gear had slipped away again, making a hurried bow to his master Bludnoch and heading towards a nearby drinks table.

---

Mithras, Gunner and Crisis

The red-faced nobleman turned to Mithras as Crisis slipped off to retrieve the data-slate and begin keying in his message, controlling his temper more now that he was addressing a man of similar standing. There was a murmur of hushed conversation around them as the high-born speculated at what might transpire.

"I should have known that only what passes for nobility on a backwater world would bring such poorly trained creatures to a respectable social such as this. Tell me, do you grant them such liberties with your own lady, or are you required to trawl the mid-hive to find something suitable to distract them with." He glanced past Mithras at the common woman he'd been talking to before who had, he now realised, followed him over like a lost puppy. She was keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor, not daring to meet the irate noble's gaze, let alone offer a retort. "It even appears that you have failed to teach them that they are only to speak to a better when spoken too first, though your little freak over there seems to be incapable of articulating a single word."

It was only now that "Biggs" finished typing his message and presented it to his master.

[ChristianC]

Mithras listened to the man as patiently as he could. To be fair, he hadnt' been watching Crisis at all, and he glanced over very briefly to Gunner, wondering if the man could fill him in on the less biased version... but then he remembered that he was supposed to be the man in charge here. Oh well.

"Oh no," he replied, retrieving the device from Crisis, eyes widening little at the wall of text he was attacked with. "They wouldn't dare to gaze upon the beauty of our Fenksworld women. In fact, they are trained to go only for the lesser stocks..." a slightly mischievous smile spread on his face. "...So I suppose that tells us more about your wife than it does of my servants." he chuckled to himself as he tried to make sense out of what Crisis had written. He put the device down a wee bit too early for someone who'd just gotten the grasp of reading, his face a mask of slightly irate civility as he once more addressed the man, glacing back over his shoulder at the woman who'd followed him.

"We do not take too kindly of this sort of accusations, however. If there is a problem with my bodyguard, I am sure we can settle the matter in either of two ways. We agree to disagree, or we make it a matter of honor." he snorted, "in which case I would have to get changed, this outfit is far too expensive to get sullied with blood."

[Besyanteo]

It had been Gunner's intention to answer Mithras, but he needed a moment to push through the bite that would have been in his voice at the time... a moment he didn't really have, which the frilly fop had taken full advantage of. As it was, Mithras now had things well in hand. Provided Crisis could keep himself 'quiet' until the affair had passed, things ought to go well from here: forgetting that the man's manner spoke to both cowardice and terrible insecurity, if he decided to accept the challenge Mithras implied, Gunner had no doubt in his mind that he would have his Guardsman back in the same pristine condition he'd arrived in before the turning of the hour. Either way, their cover survived, the small man would be humilated, and the mission would go on. Wonderful.

[Capntastic]

Mik also peered at the woman for an instant before continuing, gradually slipping into more Fenksworldian tongue and demeanour.

"I work for... a man sick of Fenksworld's glum attitude. He looks here for... a change. Maybe he will find it. Maybe not."

[Jak Snide]

Mithras, Gunner and Crisis

The irate nobleman grinned, his body language changing as soon as Mithras had said his piece. He was no longer the red-faced, intoxicated fop he was a moment before. That person had been replaced by a self-assured young man, blonde hair swept back and away from the thin, linear features of his face.

"Sir, you insult the honour of my home and, more importantly, that of my wife-to-be." He spoke loudly and clearly now; the voice of a practised speaker. The Houses of Talbador and Dupan are slighted, and demand satisfaction." His fiancée was wearing a smug expression as she sauntered over, those attended her now suddenly present. "My dear Cecilia, what does the law have to say about how we should proceed?"

"I could not say, my dear Raphael." she purred. "Perhaps my loremaster will be able to assist us." An elderly man with a pair of large augmetic eyes stepped forward. He was stooped over and wore a simple yet well made garment that had only seen slightest touch of the inner lighting that defined the current fashion applied to it. The rest of her entourage were similarly dressed, a stark contrast to the brightly lit nobility that looked onto the unfolding drama.

"As both House Dupan and House Talbador have been subjected to the most slanderous of insults," the old man wheezed, "not as separate occurrences but as a singular assault, this matter shall be resolved jointly. The offending party shall present two duellists and those offended shall each present one. All parties may choose to have a representative stand-in for them. The matter shall be resolved in the Bloodsquares with personal weapons permitted. The first team to have both their duellists fall will be found lacking in honour and must issue a former apology and any reparations deemed necessary to the victor."

"That is," Raphael Talbador interjected, "of course, if you don't wish to concede now and add cowardice as one of your defining traits."

---

Mikolas

"Well," said Lucas, glancing at a wristband mounted device that was now glowing bright red, "looks like he's found something alright. I'd get to your master, Dulov. Unless you don't fancy takin' a bullet for his sake." The bodyguard flashed a cheerful grin and headed off into the crowd.

---

Cryvus

Brother Gear hurried up to the side of Cryvus, the preacher appearing to be agitated.

"My lord, your cousin seems to have found himself in some trouble again."

Sokrat grinned, clapping his hands and rubbing them together eagerly. "Well, this should be interesting. Would you object if I accompanied you, sir?"

[Capntastic]

Mik began to stride forth in the practiced semi-arrogant Dulov fashion.

"I vonder if... the real fun has started."

[ChristianC]

Mithras did his utmost not to look shocked, dismayed or outright outraged. Truth be told, he was quivering in his boots. These were nobles, the high-borne, the commanders. He couldn't very well just... kill them. And what if they had more expertise? They certainly had the manpower to pick from, and all... he... had. He glanced to Crisis... and he had Mikolas as well... but honor demanded he himself partook in this... He scratched his chin and then nodded, all signs of doubt or humor gone from his face.

"IThen so be it, if you consider yourself slandered by jest, then clearly you will settle for nothing less than that. Very well, your honor shan't be wounded, I offer myself and..." his eyes fell upon Mikolas, who was just approaching. "Dulov, my bodyguard." he raises his hand to semi-point to the giant of a man. "We will accept whatever challenge you will bring forth." he folded his arms, "I assume there will be no deprecations of my using the weapons awarded to me for service in His the most Holy's favor." He gave a lopsided smile and twitched, just slightly, as he resisted the urge to both punch himself in the stomach and run away at the same time.

[Kelne]

"Oh dear," said Cryvus, able to think of only one thing that would have Brother Gear so agitated in the ansense of actual gunfire. He suspected it was already far too late for him to intervene. His move to bring out his pistol for inspection was arrested. Having a weapon drawn would only make matters worse.

"By all means," he said to Sokrat, inclining his head as he turned to make his way back to rejoin the others, "It seems the liveliness has come to us."