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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lothred" data-source="post: 4397139" data-attributes="member: 41722">Dead ends and new friendsLazerus returned to the Worker's Union, quickly settling into his persona of a low-life gun for hire, maintaining some semblance of order among the Union's normally unruly patrons. A stern word or two usually sufficed to quell the troublemakers, but occasionally an especially inebriated citizen would not take the hint, or would be so full of joiliq that he felt up to the task of backing down the new guy. At those times Lazerus enforced his words with his fists, ably aided by his stout metal cudgel, previously a symbol of his rank in the Adeptus Arbites, now devoid of any identifying markings. It was after escorting just such a disturber of the peace that the Arbitrator noticed a newcomer at the bar. He did his best to blend in, but the cut of his clothing marked him out, as did the way he continued to follow Lazerus with his eyes. Lazerus wove his way through the crowd to the bar, hopping up on a stool next to the stranger with his back to the bar, facing the room. The newcomer looked about nervously, then whispered “Miocanthus sent me.” Lazerus leapt off of the stool, hands clamping like vices about the stranger's neck and belt, and stormed through the Union. “WHAT KIND OF PERVERT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?! WE DON'T RUN THAT KIND OF BUSINESS HERE, SICKO! AND EVEN IF WE DID, YOU DEFINITELY GOT THE WRONG GUY!” With that, the Arbitrator and the gentleman he was escorting barged through the front door, turning into the alley. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  Tauron decided on an oblique approach to the Alms House. First, he spent some time blending into the crowds, such as they were, in the marketplace, getting a feel for the movement of the populace and keeping an eye on the railhead which was just in sight. After some time, the proper circumstances obtained that he was waiting for, as a sufficiently large group shuffled off to meet an arriving railcar, the passengers from which disembarked and promptly mingled with the first group, bunches of people splitting off in many directions but a significant number heading toward the Alms House. Tauron easily slotted himself into this party, convinced that the chaos of the merging crowds at the railhead ensured that he could not have been easily followed. Finally, as the civilians reached the Alms House, Tauron slipped away and darted around to the back of the building.  The rear of the Alms House was a nearly blank wall, three stories high and broken only by a single door which appeared locked. Tauron had no wish to draw attention to himself at this point by breaking in, especially during the day when countless numbers of Coscarla's downtrodden population were stopping by for a free meal. Instead, the feral worlder began examining the ground around the door, looking for telltale signs of recent movement. The ferrocrete sidewalk obviously gave tracks no purchase, but the dust and trash that had inevitably accumulated told a different story. Something had been through this way recently, perhaps as recently as the previous night cycle. More importantly, the tracks only indicated two subjects leaving, with no returning tracks. Intrestin', he thought. Having satisfied his curiosity regarding the rear of the building, Tauron decided it was time to gather what intel he could about the rest of the Alms House, especially the front door and the comings and goings of those inside. To this end, he waited until he could slip back into another crowd leaving the House, breaking off from the group at the entrance to a hab-stack nearby. He quickly mounted the stairs inside, finding an abandoned chamber with a window facing the Alms House. Tauron made himself comfortable and settled in for an extended recon. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  The voice had been silent for several hours, but it was back now with a vengeance. did you think i had gone did you miss me i will never leave you never we will be together forever oh yes forever even unto the neverending nothingness of eternity i will be with you Ophelia shook her head violently and sprang to her feet. She began pacing across the chamber as Ishmael continued poking at the bodies of the creatures from the night before. do you think you can rid yourself of me you cannot you know we are the same you and i we both want the same thing you know it is true you know what we want you want it i can see it in your soul Ophelia’s pacing grew more frantic, her hands clenching spastically at her sides, as beads of sweat stood out on her skin. Eventually, her apparent distress penetrated even Ishmael’s single-mindedness. He looked up at her, his brow wrinkling in thought. “Are you all right, Ophelia? If so, could you please cease your current activities? I am trying to concentrate here, and you are distracting me quite discourteously.” The Assassin tossed her head negatively and continued her pacing. “Stay out of it, gear-head. You just keep up your amateur butchery lessons and leave me be.” you cannot suffer one such as him to insult you that way you must teach him a lesson in how to properly grovel at your feet he should count himself blessed merely to be in your presence teach him respect cut off a hand or a foot gouge out an eye eat his tongue “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Ophelia’s hands flew to her head, where she began pulling at her hair, tearing out two great handfuls. Ishmael scrambled backwards from his suddenly frantic teammate, grasping for his laspistol and staff, anything to be used as a weapon. The Assassin spun around, a haunted look in her eyes. “Where are you? WHERE ARE YOU? WHO ARE YOU? I’ll find you and I’ll kill you, do you hear? I’LL KILL YOU!” ha ha ha ha ha you cannot kill me foolish one you know better but i will heartily enjoy feasting on your soul i can already taste the taint “NOOOOOOO!!!!” Her howl of dismay shook the cheap windows in their panes and caused the Tech-Priest to press his hands over his ears in pain. Ophelia whirled to face Ishmael, her chest heaving as though she had run a marathon and a wild look in her eyes. “I think I should go take a walk, Ishmael. Perhaps some fresh air will calm me down. You don’t mind, do you?” The Tech-Priest took one more look at her and replied. “I think that it would be an excellent idea if you took a walk. Please, by all means, don’t let me stop you. In fact, I insist. Go. Now. Please.” Ophelia grabbed her rifle and practically flew out the door. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Eli approached the Tempelum openly, taking time to scrutinize the building. While obviously once possessing a grand façade, the Tempelum had fallen into a disgraceful state of disrepair. Windows had been boarded over, several plasteel beams had been used to prop up a sagging corner, and the Imperial Aquila above the entranceway had apparently lost its left-facing head. On closer inspection, however, the head had obviously been shot away, as more bullet holes pocked the surrounding area of the lintel. The young Guardsman shook his head sadly, made the sign of the Aquila, drew a deep breath, and entered the darkened Tempelum. As he allowed his eyes time to adjust to the dim interior, Eli took in as much of the Tempelum as his senses could process. To the left, a bank of votive candles lay dark, a single lit candle shining feebly in the gloom. As Eli moved closer, he noticed that of the hundreds of candles on the altar, all save a dozen or less had already been burned down to stubs, the vast majority some time ago by the dust gathered on the melted wax. The Guardsman felt his ire rising at the apparent lack of devotion shown by the residents of Coscarla and even more at the local priest’s obvious failure in this most simple of tasks. If he had allowed the votive altar to fall into such disuse, how must he be failing in the rest of his duties? Eli whispered a prayer of forgiveness and guidance to the Emperor and lit a candle of his own, dropping a small coin in the collection box attached to the altar. Looking around once again, Eli noticed more signs of neglect throughout the interior. Dust covered every surface, from the pews to the sacramental chalice to the curtains of the confessional booths. Every bit of exposed metal was covered with a patina of tarnish. More than half of the glowglobes had burned out and not been replaced, leaving vast stretches of the interior in darkness. Of those which remained, many flickered inconsistently while the remainder cast a feeble light revealing little beyond the clouds of dust slowly swirling in the stuffy air. The entire atmosphere was closer to that of an abandoned building than that of a place dedicated to the worship of the God-Emperor of Mankind. The silence was suddenly broken by a crashing noise and muffled cursing from behind the main altar. The Guardsman darted up the aisle, his ingrained respect for the Imperial Cult and its trappings causing him to hesitate at the thought of trespassing behind the sacred altar, but a combination of curiosity and his righteous anger at the state of the Tempelum spurred him onward. As he rounded the altar, the sight before his eyes stopped Eli in his tracks. A portly elderly man, apparently an Imperial cleric by his robes, lay face down on the floor before him, posterior raised toward the sky. The effect was that of a man prostrating himself, ruined only by the fact that all icons that one would normally prostate before were in front of the altar and the combination of debris littering the ground and the bottle of amasec clutched in the man’s right hand. Eli strode forward and helped the old man to his unsteady feet, guiding him from behind the altar to a pew, which he dusted quickly before reverently assisting the cleric to sit. “All you all right, Father? That appears to have been quite a nasty fall.” “I, I, I *hic* Imfine, my son, jus’, jus’, fust jine.” The priest appeared to have difficulty holding the Guardsman in focus, but retained enough hand-eye coordination to take a long swig from the bottle he still held. A trickle of amasec ran down the cleric’s fleshy chins as his throat pulsed with each swallow. “Ah, body o’ me thass be’er. Now, me boy, wha’, who, wha’, huh? Who’reyou?”  “Well, Father, my name is Lupa. I am from uphive, and have been retained by some interested parties to investigate the recent rash of disappearances from amongst the citizenry of Coscarla District.” Eli was silent for some moments following his response as the priest peered searchingly into the depths of the bottle, squinting first one eye then the other in an attempt to make out how much of the liquid remained. The old man eventually noticed that Eli had ceased to speak and turned toward him once more. “Oh, fine, that’s fine my son, juss fine. Can’ te-tell you how g-g-*hic*-good to hear you are. Never enough of you-your kind ‘round here, you know. Oh, it’s not empty after *hic* after all.” With that, the priest upended the bottle over his open mouth, a last gush of amasec splashing mostly over his fleshy face. As the cleric leaned ever farther backward in a misguided attempt to glean the last drops from the bottle, his bulk caused the pew to pass its center of gravity and tip over. The fall caused the priest to strike his head against the second-row pew and the bottle to roll away down the aisle. Eli leapt up in time to avoid being tipped over along with the old man, and glared sternly down at the priest with contempt in his eyes. “It truly is no mystery that the good people of this Division have lost all hope with one such as you left to tend to their spiritual needs. I shall certainly complain to the Ministorum once this mission is over,” the young Guardsman muttered under his breath as he once again assisted the priest to a sitting position on the next pew back. Once he had settled the red-faced puffing priest, Eli decided to try a different tack. “Tell me, Father, what do you know of Saul Arbest?” The cleric’s face instantly drained of all color and for a moment Eli was afraid that the old man would have a fit right then and there. “I don’ know wha’ you’re talkin’ ‘bout, boy. Now lea-lea-*hic*-leave. Jus’ go and leave me here.” The cleric dropped his head to his hands and began weeping bitterly, the heaving sobs and wails broken by frequent hiccups.  Eli remained for nearly an hour, trying vainly to get any information whatsoever from the inconsolable priest. Despite his best efforts, however, the old cleric would reveal nothing more than that he was sorry for something and he deserved to stay there and rot. Finally, Eli could do nothing but agree, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “Fine, Father, you stay here with your secrets and your shame! Just be aware that a reckoning will be called, and when it does you will have wished that you had cooperated in this matter. You also,” he continued in a deeper, colder tone, “will have wished that you had performed your sacred duties with rather more devotion.” With that, Eli stalked down the aisle toward the door. On his way out, his foot kicked the bottle of amasec that the priest had dropped. Picking it up, Eli examined the label and then threw it to smash behind the altar. “And drinking the sacramental amasec, Father? For shame, Father, for shame.” With that, the Guardsman turned his back on the weeping old man, whose cries had redoubled with the smash of the bottle, and stormed out of the Tempelum. As he slammed the doors behind him, a figure that he hadn’t noticed detached itself from the deeper shadow within which it had lain concealed. The man walked over to the sobbing priest and patted him gently on the back. “There, there, Father, I’ve told you that you have nothing to blame yourself for. You did all you could to save Saul, and you’re helping to save me by not telling anyone where I am. Shhh, it’s all right, Father. Tell you what, I’ll get you some more amasec, wouldn’t that be nice?” The priest regained enough control over himself to raise his red-shot eyes to the young man and nod, sniffing through a runny nose. The young man nodded back and headed toward the sacramental cupboard to fetch the despondent priest a fresh bottle. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Lazerus released his new companion as they entered the alley. “Sorry about that, but you must know that such a breach of operational security could not occur in that place. For your own edification, I am currently operating under cover, posing as an uphive gun for hire working for the local crime boss. Now, I assume that the individual that you mentioned previously gave you the challenge and countersign to identify yourself to us. So, let’s try this again.” The newcomer took a moment to orient himself after his abrupt handling, and Lazerus took the opportunity to size him up. The man was approximately 12 cm taller than the Arbitrator and gangling, with fair skin, grey eyes, and close-cropped white hair. He was dressed, under the Inquisition-issue downhive overcoat, in grey-green shipboard overalls which had been obviously torn and patched. The hilt of a sword protruded from over his left shoulder. The man settled the overcoat on his shoulders, took an unobtrusive breath, and spoke. “Right, sorry, let’s try again, shall we? Yes, well, hrm, I believe it was ‘You need to call a contractor’.” “And why is that?” “Because the walls are falling down.” Lazerus smiled and clapped the man on his back. “Welcome, I’m Lazerus Cole, and you are…?” “Voyd, Imperial Sanctioned Psyker. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. Is something wrong?” The Psyker’s question was in response to the expression that had settled on Lazerus’ face. “No, I’m sure our superiors know what they’re doing. It’s just that no one mentioned that we might be joined by a head-job. Sorry, I mean psyker.” A wry grin found its way onto the Arbitrator’s countenance. “I must apologize. You see, I have had less than pleasant experiences with those who would traffic with the Warp. I’ll try not to hold it against you, but be aware, the first sign that something is off with you, and I’ll put you down without a second thought.” The Psyker’s expression was that of someone who was used to others’ suspicions and accepted them as the norm. “Of course, sir. Would expect nothing less from you, sir.” “One more thing, there’s no need to call me ‘sir’. Especially when we’re covert. Kind of makes us stand out, you know?” “Of course, s…sorry, habit you know. Anyway, I expect you’ll be wanting word from our superiors. Well, to be honest, he didn’t have much to add. I have received what I am assured to be the same background brief as yourself and your team. Other than that, I am charged to remind you of your objectives, and the need to remain covert. My orders are to follow your lead and assist the team anyway I can.” “Fine, then, shall we return inside? I’ve got some time before I can get free from here, but you’re welcome to hang around the bar and observe. I wouldn’t mind having someone watching my back.” With that, the two men reentered the Union and made their way to the bar. Lazerus smiled broadly and called out to the barman. “Padraig! A drink here for my new friend. Turns out I misheard him, earlier. Simple mistake, really. Anyway, get him whatever he wants, on me. Oy! You there! Sorry, boys, I’m off again.” With that, he wound his way through the tables to where a tough-looking youth was threatening an older drunk. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Ophelia ran blindly down the streets and alleys of Coscarla Division, trying desperately and futilely to escape the voice in her head. run run run as fast as you may you can’t escape me i’m with you every day ha ha ha ha ha ha ha you know you want to kill kill kill kill you want the thrill and the screams and the pain and the beautiful beautiful blood the thrill of the kill you can’t wait you need to kill to kill to kill now right now turn in here go in this building right here do it go in Ophelia could no longer resist; she entered the indicated hab-stack. good good now up the stairs to the fourteenth floor up up up up you go now down the hall to the last door on the left now kick it open and kill those inside Ophelia didn’t hesitate as she drew her sword and kicked down the door. The screams which greeted her lasted for some time before all grew silent once again. The laughter within her head continued for some time afterwards.</blockquote>

Verification