Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Kelne]

Cryvus raised his own glass, but something seemed to go wrong with the gesture. His grip had been perhaps somewhat loose, and it slipped from his fingers. His undignified grab to regain possession merely made things worse, sending the vessel tumbling to smash against the floor.

"Drat," Cryvus said mildly, looking rather sour at so thoroughly spoiling the Lady Borella's toast, "A sudden betrayal of the fingers, it would seem."

[ChristianC]

Mithras had raised his glass in toast, but as he'd brought the glass to his lips he saw Cryvus drop his glass, and frowned before downing the drink himself. Whatever the man had noticed meant that there might be something wrong... something he would tell him of afterwards. Right now he needed to show not only that he appreciated the hostess, whatever this glowing drink was, and that he wasn't a suspicious agent of the Inquisition suspecting them of attempting to poison him.

So down the drink went, and he smiled at the others, "For the Emperor." he said, raising his glass once more.

[Capntastic]

"For the Emperor." Dulov intoned in his way, before sipping mightily of the beverage.

[ChristianC]

A calm smile spread upon the guardsman turned noble's face as he looked down at the glass he'd been drinking from, as if surprised the content was gone. He gave the hostess an appreciative nod and wondered whether he should ask her what brand it was (even though he normally wasn't a drinking man), but the bustle of people around him distracted him somewhat, not to mention the dropping of the glas of Cryvus.

"Gilgamesh my friend, is that old wound still troubling you? I thought the neuro-surgery they did to you would have repaired the damage that shrapnel did." a look of concern flashed briefly across his face.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner refrained from partaking of the drink. He thought at first that, if pressed, he would comment that he simply felt that he was too lowly to be deserving of the lady's generous offer. He wouldn't look overly sincere about it, and would drink as Dulov had after being pressed. He was, after all, playing the part of an uncultured, dressed up mercenary. However, he honestly didn't expect to be pressed on the matter. In truth, he was concerned about Cryvus' activity. He didn't seem like a clumsy man, which suggested he did this on purpose. Which suggested that he had cause to not want to drink. It almost definitely wasn't poisoned, but-

Drugged. Oh hell. That would be bad. Their underhive friend had warned them that the Choir had involved itself with a new drug... something hardcore enough to get the attention of the Adeptus Arbites. They never gave a damn about any drug. It was a responsibility of the planet the drug was on. There had never been an exception to this that he knew of. On second thought, if pressed, he'd make sure to make that drink a gracious sip instead... And hope to the Emperor for Mik's sake that he was wrong, and Cryvus' hand had simply twitched at an inopportune time. As for his own sudden change to somewhat more socially conscious, respectful individual, perhaps the nights events had given Wedge something of an attitude adjustment...

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis raised the glass he was given, playing along with the charade the other Acolytes followed...which, for some reason, there was something amusing about. He couldn't figure out what, but something was.

However, he wouldn't go beyond toasting. Crisis himself made it a note not to accept food and drink from nobles other than the Strophes without good reasoning after the antitoxin was mentioned earlier when gearing up. Borella was clearly NOT a Strophe. As for Biggs' own reasoning, it was simple--the Magnagorsk environment, despite his precautions, had damaged him internally enough after a notable mission that he had to be kept to a strict diet, lest he be incapacitated for hours with cramps and retching. After all, he was chosen as a bodyguard for his ability in combat and observation, not his ability to tolerate every sort of food and drink.

Perfectly logical, he decided. Perfectly logical.

[Kelne]

"So they said," Cryvus said, doing his best to observe Mithras' reaction to the concoction without making the observation obvious, "Alas, these things so seldom fully take." It was time, he decided, to make as gracious an exit as possible, before the drinkers' judgement went completely down the drain or Lord Emperor knew what other side-effects kicked in.

"Speaking of which, now that we have paid our respects to our hostess, you really ought to get those wounds properly seen to, lest you gain your own collection of inconvenient twinges years down the line." His tone was lightly teasing, but with genuine concern underlying it, as of an old man reminding a younger be was not bulletproof. Not that Mithras should need any such reminders after that vicious little fight.

[Jak Snide]

Lord Bludnoch's fumble had drawn an amused titter from a few of those nearby before they raised their glasses, offered up their own toasts and downed their drink. Nobody paid much attention to Biggs and Wedge as they refrained from drinking; it was possible that their duty made such indulgences inadvisable or the nobility just didn't care about two low-born hirelings. By the time Mithras had ventured an explanation for his relative's clumsiness it seemed that all those present were beyond caring about such things, no matter how terrible a slight the bungle may have been perceived as. Conversation flowed freely around them, especially from Brother Gear. The man hadn't refrained from toasting and was now chatting quite enthusiastically with a trio of retainers. His accent had also begun to slip. Julia was staring around with wide-eyed wonder, though just what had caught her attention was impossible to tell. Malene had remained silent and impassive as the drinks were distributed, raised and consumed, not having partaken herself.

Lady Borella, seemingly less affected by the drink than her fellow nobles, accepted Cryvus' excuse at face value and wished them well. "Tomorrow evening then, my dears. Don't arrive too late, I believe Elsergi has some entertainment planned."

Crisis:

Spoiler:

Your amusement continues, though now you feel that you're deriving it from the spectacle of the high-born nobility forgetting themselves after a single drink. You'd be suppressing laughter by now if you weren't so utterly unaccustomed to it in the first place.

(Unless anyone wishes to attend to some other matter then the acolytes will retire for the night. After any words that need to be said have been we'll move onto the following day. Currently this involves the bodyguards meeting with Orday to purchase the data from him and then rejoining the nobles in the evening so they can visit the Alabaster Court and meet with the founder of the Joyous Choir.)

[ChristianC]

Mithras had, honestly, been mulling over the idea of being told the deeper meanings of the sect by Malene, and had, much to some other's dismay, been giving the woman quite a few looks during the ebbing discussions, obviously somewhat intoxicated by the consummation of what could be considered very potent alcohol. So when Cryvus made his snide little remark (of which, Mithras being a generous and fair man, forgave him), Mithras nodded, emphatically, quite a few times, before realizing he ought to speak too.

"Ah.. yes... yes, it would seem my wounds won't be, ahaha, healing themselves. No, I should take care to get them looked to, and then return for our quarters, quarters offered to us by my most beloved cousin Julia." he gave his 'cousin' a wonderful, beaming smile, "I certainly hope the walls are as thick as I've been led to believe," he gulped suddenly, just as surprised by is exclamation as the others, "by which I mean of course that the room and its interior design is constructed of sturdy material, able to take a rough beating and..." oh dear, this really wasn't going well, "and that my snoring won't keep you up."

He laughed a little, one half of his brain panicking at his sudden loss of awareness, common sense and restraint, traits that had so far kept him alive longer than he'd rightly deserved, whereas the other half tried to figure out whether he had alluded enough to his intentions of the night without making it clear, and also considering that being a noble was a pretty interesting thing, and he would certainly like to do more of this word-playing in the future.

[Capntastic]

The pains of the recent battle had been eased away, and things felt alright. He'd done his job and could relax, just a touch. Dulov's grim dutiful quasi-scowl met with Mik's friendly grin at the current happenings, creating some nightmarish amalgam of emotion that surely some artist would love to chisel into a spire gargoyle.

[Kelne]

Cryvus steered the intoxicated along as unobtrusively as he could, counting on the others who'd avoided drinking to lend a hand and making sure nobody was left behind. Unfortunately, procuring samples of the drink didn't look feasible. Cryvus suspected that an analysis of that alone would be sufficient to indict the cult. Though they certainly weren't short on reasons.

[Besyanteo]

Now that they were well on their way away, Gunner worked to make sure both Gear and Mikolas continued to follow along with the group. It wouldn't do to return to the manor and find that they'd wandered underhive, or to somewhere worse if that was possible. Mithras, on the bright side, should hardly be troublesome for his sober compatriots to handle. While Gear liked him enough that it should be sufficient to get him on 'home', he was worried about what would happen if the drink were to make Mikolas irate...

[Jak Snide]

The acolytes made their way back to House Strophes without any real trouble. Cryvus didn't have much trouble keeping Mithras in line; once removed from the presence of several dozen nobles Malene became quite chatty, managing to hold his attention with talk of the Choir and smalltalk. Gunner had a slightly more difficult time with Mikolas, the man seeming determined to march off down random hallways and investigate whatever caught his fancy. Brother Gear was content to simply talk, though he did so loudly and with great verbosity, his accent coming and going as he forgot and remembered it. Crisis, as always, was on form and alert for danger and was satisfied when he found none, though the green-coated Magistratum enforcers were subjected to his constant scrutiny. Julia remained silent for the entire journey, having reacted badly to the strange drink and had turned a little pale.

Once they were within the confines of House Strophes the young noble was whisked away to bed by her servants, a venomous stare from one suggesting that the acolytes might be held to blame for her current state. Mithras departed for his chambers as well with Malene in tow, no doubt to discuss the finer points of dogma with her, leaving the others to seat themselves in the drawing room and be waited on by those who servants who worked through the night cycle. The head of the night shift informed Lord Bludnoch that Laurent had retired to his quarters some hours ago and that Sister Masha was still awake and currently poring over her notes in the library.

[Besyanteo]

Finally given a moment of respite, Gunner waited for their guest to be out of earshot and went to Cryvus.

"Ok. It's obvious now that the drinks were drugged, and I'm glad you picked up on it. That said, how did you know?"

He eyed Mikolas and the Brother Gear. They didn't seem to be too bad off at the moment, but with an unknown like this he was still a bit wary. And the lady Strophes... Well, one of them was going to need to talk to her father. He needed to know that she'd been exposed to this thing, he felt. He wasn't certain he wanted to be the one who told the man that they'd let his daughter imbibe a nearly wholly unknown drug that was impacting her negatively right at this moment, of course, but clamming up would be ultimately be worse.

[Kelne]

"It wasn't an ordinary drug," Cryvus said, deadly serious, "Whatever was in those drinks was alive, to the extent that it had a presence in the warp. We can hope that a single dose won't have any permanent effects, but Emperor knows what the results of long-term exposure might be. And such a thing administered to so many highly-placed people at once..." Cryvus shivered. He had yet to fully get over his own close escape.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner took a moment to let that sink in. The idea of what he'd just heard made his skin crawl, and he looked at Mithras briefly, imagining something dark and small... swimming in his innards even now. Or possibly a plethora of them. What would happen now? He forced himself to be calm. The lady offering the drinks wasn't a horrendously transformed warp beast, so chances were that it wouldn't happen to them or the lady Strophes immediately, either. His stare returned to Cryvus. They needed more information.

"Can you still feel them in our comrades? And if you can... can you learn more about them? I notice lady Borella didn't seem to be suffering any visible malady... Is it possible that they're benign or dormant for some length of time?"

[Kelne]

"I wish I knew," Cryvus said, "I can't sense anything anymore, but it's possible that any presence is being masked by their own auras. All I can reccommend is that we keep an eye on them, and fill them in as soon as they sober up. There's still one avenue I can try. I think it's time I sought guidance in any case." So saying, Cryvus went into his room, emerging a few moments later with a familiar looking deck of cards.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner looked over the cards briefly, more or less understanding what Cryvus wanted to do. It wasn't much, but it was so much more than nothing. He talked with Cryvus, and before long they settled on a question to seek guidance on: "Who in this house is at the most risk from recent events?" It didn't cast a wide enough net to cover all their bases, but almost certainly all the ones that seemed at all likely to be both relevant and still preventable. Gunner concentrated, and waited for Cryvus to lay out and interpret the cards.

[Kelne]

Cryvus pored over the cards for a half hour, each reading more ritualised and revealing some new scrap of information to be considered. At last, he straightened from the table he had appropriated for this purpose, "Without question, Brother Gear is the most at risk," he said, tapping the Confessor card, central in the array, as it had been through most of the readings. Other cards radiated from it in a crux terminatus pattern, some reversed. Interpreting them all seemed to be beyond Cryvus's abilities, though one could not help but notice the Hedonist looming at the top of the array. His finger turned instead to the Contract, reversed, and to the Watcher, "Trust, and paranoia," he labelled them in turn, "Both will lead you from the path of Victory." And indeed this card stood opposite the pair in the array.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner considered the reading and Cryvus' interpretation of it carefully. For Gear to be in the most danger suggested that at least he and his fellows weren't likely to turn into slavering demon spawn immediately. However, it also did little to rule out the notion that he and the others unfortunate enough to imbibe the drug would suffer some long term effect. It was nothing definite, but it was worth being watchful over... Paranoia and trust. If he could embrace neither, then he would have to try to maintain a healthy balance. He nodded to Cryvus absently.

"We will remain cautious and watchful, but it's too early to take action. Warn off the others about drinking that foul brew in the future. I have to go speak with Sir Strophes..."

Gunner walked off, steeling himself for the conversation to come. It would be pleasant for no one.

[Jak Snide]

Gunner made his way to the West wing of the 1st level of House Strophes. Julia had once commented how their home was a modest affair. If that was the case then the estates of the wealthiest of the noble houses would be virtual enclaves within the hive city. This place alone stretched out across five floors, more than enough space for two people and their score or so of servants. Laurent's personal manservant stopped him as he approached the door, attempting to turn him away until Gunner convinced him of the importance of his visit. He waited a moment for the man to be notified before being let into the chamber.

It was virtually a home in itself, or could at least easily house a small family. Instead it served as both an office and the private chambers of the Lord Strophes, the decorations undoubtedly expensive yet tasteful for the most part. A number of xenos heads were mounted on the wall, presumably trophies form a successful career in the navy. He recognised one with a pronounced jaw and green skin as that of an ork, though he'd yet to encounter such a creature himself. Laurent himself was dressed in a nightgown and reclined in a chair, reading through a book he carefully placed aside as Gunner entered.

"You needed to speak with me?" he asked without getting up.

[Besyanteo]

Well, here goes. They might be about to lose a host, but Gunner's sense of honor demanded this, however unavoidable Julia's exposure may have been. Gunner decided to be out with it, straight and to the point, not quite to the point of bluntness. He nodded in response to Sir Strophes' query and began.

"I felt obligated to speak with you, yes. I suspect you know that Julia has taken to her room, not feeling well after the party this evening. She was offered a drugged drink at the party, and we had no time to warn her what she was about to drink. In fact, we couldn't warn some of our own, but I'm getting away from the important part. We're certain at this point that it's Farcosia, and we just learned that it's alive, sir."

He paused to let that sink in.

"We still know almost nothing about this, but the choir drink it regularly and they all still seem to live, for whatever comfort that might give you. As soon as we learn anything more, you will too."

Gunner waited for Sir Strophes' reaction. He couldn't see himself taking the news well or being civil afterward in the man's place.

[Jak Snide]

Laurent appeared to listen with muted concern as Gunner told him what had occurred. The old man may well have been used to his daughter imbibing such substances, either due to her past history or the very nature of a young noble's life. His manner changed at the mention of Farcosia. The news that it was alive drove him from his chair. For a moment it seemed like he would attack Gunner, the usually silent servos of his bionic arm whining as his fists balled, but he controlled himself, standing there and listened to the rest. Those words seemed to give him some small relief, though the fact remained that his only child had consumed a substance that had drawn the attention of those who would normally ignore such things. It took him several seconds to compose himself before he spoke.

"We are to watch and wait, then, to see what effect it has upon my daughter?" There was a bitter edge to his voice. "Resign ourselves to that? You said yourself that the Arbites have been investigating this drug. Perhaps you should use your master's good name and find out just what the blazes is going to happen to my girl! Alive!" He turned and paced about the room, shaking his head as if trying to dispel some nightmare. "And they all just quaffed it down, did they, without a care in the world?" He glared at Gunner, as if he were entirely to blame for the situation.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner was, at least, prepared for the man's rage. It was not unexpected, and he didn't quail under it, or start in fear when he would move suddenly. He was, in truth, somewhat intimidating. The trophies on his wall told anyone who entered this space what the Laurent Strophes was capable of. It wouldn't help anyone for Gunner to let on that he was disturbed by the man, though.

"They did, yes. They either don't understand it, or do and have no fear of it to speak of. In either case, I will do everything I can to learn what this is, and how to treat your daughter for it."

Gunner neglected, for the moment, to mention that using the Inquisitor's name to hunt for this information was currently still out of the question. If they played their hand so openly so quickly, it would be simple for the Choir to slip away from them, and a full assault force... well, he doubted they would get the answers they needed out of the ensuing bloody mess.

[Jak Snide]

Laurent didn't say anything else to Gunner, simply waving him out of the room after acknowledging his promise with a thankful nod, though Gunner doubted that the man took his words at face value. His anger was giving way to despair and, evidently, he wanted to be alone with it. The manservant who had initially challenged him was careful not to look at him as he left. It later occurred to Gunner that the man might have overheard some of their brief conversation. At that moment, however, all he desired was to sleep.

---

The acolytes woke late the next day, though thankfully still several hours before half of them were due to meet Orday. None of them seemed particularly worse for wear, the only one noticeably suffering being Brother Gear. He was a slightly less talkative than usual and wore a pained expression that suggested that he was weathering a severe hangover. Neither Strophes had made an appearance yet, though Sister Masha was waiting for the acolytes when they went to take breakfast. As soon as the servants had left the room she began to question them, asking for details of the previous night and keeping her reaction to what she was told carefully concealed.

(Everyone has more or less shrugged off the effects of last nights festivities. Mithras is still greatly injured, although Cryvus may be able to help remedy that situation. Unless otherwise stated I'm going to assume that information will be shared freely with Masha, though the senior acolytes may wish to keep certain details form her and/or their fellow acolytes. Crisis, Gunner and Mikolas are expecting to meet with Orday downhive to make the exchange. The rest of the acolytes are free to follow other courses of action and may wish to use this time for planning.)

[ChristianC]

Mithras woke up slowly, memories of yesterday a bit clouded as he looked over in the bed beside him, realizing he wasn't sleeping alone.

Oh.

Well, would you look at that. Carefully he got up and pressed the button that would call for breakfast, resisting the stomach-felt urge to set up the portable stove and get out his rations, instead leaning back in bed for a bit, listening to the calm breathing of the Malene for a few moments before leaning over and with a soft kiss in her nape woke her up, chuckling softly.

"So... now you've got my full attention..." he grinned as he watched her blink the sleep out of her eyes. Although he was still feeling a bit... wingy... about the whole thing, no one'd really bothered to mention that he'd consumed any poison... but the way... he felt, the connection he saw with Malene... that must be... well, he must've been drugged with something. But as she smiled back at him, and he stroke a lock of hair back from her face, smiling back, he wondered if there wasn't a real kind of connection between them anyway... Thoughts of the rest of the team was hardly on his mind that morning.

---

Once breakfast had been eaten, they'd talked, amongst other things, but as the morning became noon, he realized he really couldn't linger much longer, and with a promise of a second meeting, and a button of his uniform as a gift, he sent her away with one of the servants to drive her, feeling surprisingly forlorn about her departure... but they needed to do things... or did they? He was a noble, after all, and it wasn't as if they'd anything planned. Maybe he'd go have a talk with Juliet, she'd seemed a little off last night... and... damn, he was hurting all over...

[Kelne]

Cryvus had not had a peaceful night, pacing about for much of it and keeping a sureptitious eye on those of them who'd been drugged so long as they were up themsleves. In the end, he finally went to bed, settling in for a restless night's sleep. He was up early as well, making more of an effort to appear composed but still making sure of everyone's condition as he entered.

As soon as everyone was assembled, he laid out the situation to them, explaining the precise nature of the drug, insofar as he understood it. By now, he was sure everybody was sober enough to deduce there had been a drug, even if they weren't aware of its particularly heretical nature. "We must be doubly on our guard," he concluded, "It does us little good to investigate the heretics if we succumb to the same ploys they are directing at everyone else. We can hope that a single exposure will have no lasting effects, but you should be aware of your mental states at all times nonetheless."

He decided to refrain from mentioning Brother Gear's particular doom for now. While foreknowledge might help him avoid it, without some inkling as to why Gear was in greater peril than the rest of them, he could offer the man little advice. It would merit some thought.

[Capntastic]

Mik, feeling well rested, ate breakfast with some joy, and was ready to get back to work.

Cryvus's news blunted that quite a bit.

"Oh damn. I didn' even think about somethin' like that."

The idea of exercising caution when so many delicious vittles were present was a chilling one.

[ChristianC]

Mithras shook his head slightly at Cryvus's remark, "I admit consuming whatever it was that I did might have put me, us and the mission in danger, but at the time I had little choice. If I had indicated suspicion towards what was being offered, how would our hostess have read that?" He looks to the others for confirmation.

"Admittedly I don't feel physically bad about what it was that I had, but you tell me it is a drug, and I believe that. Hopefully, we shan't have to drink it anymore, but if that would be the case, I will have to think of an excuse..."

[Capntastic]

"Jus' get really drunk a'forehand so you can say you're at yer limit."

[Jak Snide]

Brother Gear looked agitated, fingering the holy symbol he wore around his neck. "Ahm worried all the same." he stated before remembering his assumed accent. "If it's as innocuous as it seems then the Arbites wouldn't be looking into it."

"It is something that warrants investigation, although I doubt the Adeptus Arbites will probe cooperative unless we were to expose our true agenda." Masha nodded knowingly at Gunner. "Perhaps they could be convinced to keep our identities secret, though there would still be an element in risk. We may be under observation or there might be," she paused to maker her contempt apparent, "corrupt elements within the Arbites themselves. All levels of Sibellan society are rife with it, even the forces of the blessed Adeptus Terra stationed here. The only alternative that could yield results would be to obtain a sample of the substance for analysis. I have some limited experience in the field and the Lord Strophes would undoubtedly aid us in such an endeavour."

[Besyanteo]

Gunner nodded in response to Masha's suggestion.

"It wouldn't do to contact the Arbites this early, no. See if you can procure a sample today, and run whatever tests you can on it. If last night is any indication, getting it shouldn't be the problem half as much as getting it without drinking it on the spot. Hopefully we'll be back with some relevant information later today."

He was eager to be away. The information Orday had could possibly put them on much better footing. For the credits, it had better. He would hate to have to use Mikolas on the man just to stay in character. It also occurred to him that it was entirely possible that someone else would be waiting for them there today; Orday was fleeing for his own safety. In retrospect, he wished he'd held Crisis and/or Mikolas in reserve on the first meeting. It would have given him an edge today. Ah well, time would tell.

[Jak Snide]

House Strophes

The time eventually came for one team of acolytes to make their way downhive to meet with the bounty hunter Vorlin Orday. He'd had the details of the exchange delivered to them the day before; they were to meet in an area of the middle hive known as the Hustle; a massive marketplace the size of several square blocks that, according to one of Strophes' servants, welcomed all sorts of business ventures, both legal and otherwise. As for the specific spot where they'd contact him, all the message had said regarding that was "Beneath the broken moon." The last part of the message detailed the payment; a sum of throne gelt that most men could only dream of inside a secure case. The banking guild they had delivered their letter of credit to a few days previous didn't so much as blink as they withdrew the money, most likely being paid to do anything but ask questions of their noble patrons.

---

The Hustle

The Hustle was all that they expected and more; it was the single largest market that any of the three acolytes had ever seen. Booths formed from every material conceivable turned what would otherwise be large open spaces into twisting mazes of narrow streets packed with common hivers, all pushing, shouting and grabbing at the innumerable goods on sale. The noise was overwhelming, and the smell came close as well, the smoke wafting from various food stalls providing some respite from the stench of thousands of people packed together so closely. Their appearance was enough to guarantee the acolytes a relatively unobstructed path through the crowds at least, the result being it only took them two hours to find what they were looking for.

A partially broken statue of a guardsman stood in one of the few open spaces left in The Hustle, bearing a sagging shield whose bas-relief heraldry had cracked in half, evenly splitting the crescent moon depicted upon it. There were several people in the square but no sign of Orday himself.

Crisis:

Spoiler:

Only for those who don't look hard enough. You'd half given up trying to keep track of all the potential threats since you entered The Hustle, there simply being too many people to keep an eye on. It doesn't take you long to spot Orday though. He's lurking in a shadowed area between stalls and is quite well hidden. Not good enough to evade your notice, of course. He seems to be watching the statue, presumably waiting for your team to show up.

(Gunner, Crisis and Mikolas are down in the mid-hive now, leaving Cryvus and Mithras to decide how to spend their day. Mithras is still seriously injured, which may limit the activities he can pursue. The choice is yours, gentlemen.)

[Kelne]

Cryvus intended to make very sure that Julia was alright and fully informed as to the nature of the drug she'd imbibed last night before he went off and did anything. Beyond that, obtaining a sample of the drug struck him as a desirable goal, even if he doubted he could contribute much to the effort in his current guise. They could hope that Orday might have a sample to provide them with, but it wasn't something to be counted on, and since Sister Masha seemed to have some thoughts, he saw no harm in doing a little brainstorming.

There was also the small matter of Brother Gear's possible doom. While certainly nervous about imbibing the cursed substance (as Cryvus would be in his place), he didn't seem to be experiencing any adverse effects. Not necessarily conclusive, leaving Cryvus open to other possibilities. Perhaps somebody he'd spoken to over the course of the day? Or some calculated revenge on Talbador's part, aimed at teaching a lesson without necessarily igniting a full scale blood feud by killing a member of the nobility. Interpreting the tarot was always a tricky business.

[Capntastic]

'Dulov' was pleased with the sights and sounds, but did his best not to show it. Arriving at the spot, he folded his arms and looked about sternly.

"Perhaps ve are not ze only ones who had a... bad run in with drink last night."

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis shook his head as the Feral spoke. While those who didn't know better might agree, there was the fact that their contact was standing right over there--as he motioned to both 'Dulov' and 'Wedge', before pointing to Orday's location. Then to drive the point home, he started walking in the direction of the information supplier, waiting for the other two to follow his lead.

[Besyanteo]

Gunner was willing to assume that Crisis both knew what he was doing and had noticed something relevant to their mission. He followed readily enough, and would snap his fingers for Dulov's attention if he took too long in following suit.

[Jak Snide]

House Strophes

Mithras didn't add much to the discussion before retiring to his chambers, his injuries from the duel had caught up with him again. Sister Masha and Brother Gear joined Cryvus in brainstorming. The priest seemed to believe that going to the Arbites was the best course of action, reasoning that they would surely be trustworthy and able to keep their true identities a secret. Sister Masha argued against him but was unable to offer an alternative. Obtaining a sample from the Joyous Choir would most likely be more easily accomplished the following day when they visited the Alabaster Court, as would discerning who their supplier was. She did mention the possibility that other organisations may be using the substance. If it was just the Joyous Choir that was partaking in it then it wouldn't make sense for the Arbites to be concerned; the Choir would either have been raided or someone else had given them cause for concern.

Julia spent the rest of the day in her quarters, sending Cryvus away along with anyone who tried to visit her afterwards. Laurent had reacted to the news with simmering anger, but his daughter responded with mute alarm and the swift descent into depression that follows being confronted by a horrible situation you can do nothing about.

The Hustle

Crisis walked forward into the square, catching Orday's eye as Gunner and Mikolas followed after him. The bounty hunter stepped out of the shadows, metal briefcase in hand as he nodded in greeting to them a split second before his head exploded in a spray of viscera, a few spare rounds slamming into his body for good measure. A darkly robed figure dropped from the gloom above before his body had even hit the ground, plucking the case from the ground with one hand as he levelled a weapon at the acolytes and fired.

Gunner reacted quickly enough to throw himself to the side while Crisis ducked reflexively as bullets whizzed past him. Mikolas stood dumbfounded as every single shot sailed by and into the stall behind him, cutting down the woman who'd been hawking simple pottery a fraction of a a second ago.

Crisis:

Spoiler:

Custom matt-black autopistol, sounds like manstopper rounds. Feet have mechanical shine, stonework beneath assailant cracked on impact, high level of augmentation likely. Black robes split into two segments; overwrapping poncho-style garment conceals upper toso and face, legs wear loose black trousers.

(Surprise round over. Map is here. High probability of hitting bystanders with any missed shots, a -20 BS penalty imposed if you wish to avoid this. Areas beyond the square are packed with people who are only just realising what's happened, will most likely impede rapid movement.)

[Besyanteo]

Gunner was caught off guard, but when people began to die he kicked into gear. He drew his bolter from it's holster. He was... well, mad would be an understatement. He took a moment while aiming to say:

"Spare civilian lives as best you can. Take the target alive if it becomes reasonably practical."

And then he fired in retaliation.

(Half aim and fire one shot, taking the -20 to avoid hitting innocents.)

[NamagomiMk0]

"Spare civilian lives as best you can. Take the target alive if it becomes reasonably practical."

Custom weapon, potentially armed wtih manstoppers. Potential heavy augmentation. Target's integrity unknown. Heavy concealment of identity.

There were too many civilians to justify an act of self-restraint as such. This was unlike what the nobles thought was 'honorable' combat. This is real fighting. Nothing was to get in the way. Not even an unrealistic order that merely added complication. The enemy was to die, and the information to be obtained.


Target survivability was unknown. Short range. Heavy repeated firepower was the order of the day--and as such, the assassin drew both his Carnodon and the Orthlack--almost instantly sending a hail of fire from the latter at the unknown assailant, ready to kill ASAP. Civilians be damned, the mission in question mattered more. There was always the philosophy that the many mattered more than the few. This mission was about the needs of the many. The few--the unfortunate bystanders here--were merely casualties. And the dead were safe from the threat to the many. Therefore, if they were dead, they were lucky, for they were preemptively spared...

[Quick-draw both aforementioned guns, full-auto burst on the unknown man. FP in case of complete miss or jam.]