Faith and Fire

[Zeitgeist Blue]

Palais' gaze shifts to the watching Legatine, then back to the two of you, expression invisible beneath her impassive helmet. Finally she speaks.

"Both of you, stop this. Are you Sisters of Holy Leanna, or squabbling teenagers straight out of the schola?" Palais' voice bites out, rendered terribly harsh by her helmet vox. "I expect better from the both of you. Understood, Sisters?"

"Eriko, I see you're too stubborn to remain resting. But if your Sister in the Blue Water has cleared you, you're welcome to join us." She says, reaching out her hand to grasp yours. "Caelia has the right of it. We'll rest an hour then head out for long range recon. We'll take it slow, for Eriko's sake."

"Take a seat. Get some rest, and set your chronometers for an hour from now."

Click to shrink...

@Shephard

"Yes Sister Superior." Caelia automatically states, bracing to attention despite her exhaustion.

She was right-they didn't have time for Eriko's juvenile antics.

Click to shrink...

"Understood, SIster-Superior," Eriko says, echoing Caelia, in reply to Palais' reprimand.

She took the hand offered to her, keeping mum on the choice to keep a slow pace. It was a decision borne out of consideration for her, even if she believed herself fit enough to travel at the usually brisk pace of a Sister at war.

Her head feels light as she stands there, her armour the only reason she stands so straight and unmoving. Then she looks around before giving her superior a slight bow of the head. "Excuse me, Sister-Superior. I will go seek our rations. Famished as I am, I would need the nourishment."

The opportunity for rest is well used. Caelia feels fresh and alert by the time she rises, perhaps aided by a short visit by a young, dark skinned Hospitaller (Recover 6 wounds, 1 fatigue). Eriko, despite her wounds, does well from the rest as well, as well as a brief lookover by the Hospitaller (recover 1 wound, 1 fatigue). Neither other Battle-Sisters nor the PDF disturb your rest, even as they work to clear out the bodies and fortify the courtyard. It is all too soon before your helm chronometers ring.

"Up and at them, Sisters. Duty awaits no woman." Palais says, chainsword resting against her pauldron.

Proceeding on foot rather than within a Rhino allows you see more of the city. The detritus in the decaying, pothole riven holes. The rust and mold growing across the metal shanties, or spreading across the sunken tenement houses. Palais sets an easy pace, moving around rather than through the barricades or flooded streets common throughout the Little Cog district. In the distance, you can hear your Sisters at work-The double boom of boltguns, the detonations of explosions. The vox chatter has stopped speaking of true engagements or battles, but rather of slow and measured hunts for scattering heretics through the slums. At one point you spot a squad of Sisters the Cannonesses' unit kicking down the doors of shanty buildings, one at a time. As you stroll away, you hear the single howl of a chainsword, and then silence.

The falling sun paints the district red, the way the light catches the rooftops almost making them look like they are burning. There are less people on the streets now-either due to the violence or the coming nightfall-but you still see wretches making their way through the streets, scavenging the aftermath of fights, or staring from windows. You see a merchant brush a corpse off the front of his storefront, a pair of women brawling over a mislaid food tin. One poor man, bones visible beneath his starved frame and his weather worn face showing the slow necrosis that comes with Black Rot, staggers toward you.

"Please! A few denars, please!"

The Sister-Superior can only give a sad shake of the head and mutter a few words of blessing as you pass by.

Eventually, you force your way into a half flooded warehouse near the docks. The docks themselves are a sprawling warren and perhaps undeserving of the name. Certainly, you see everything from single person fishing boats to hulking promethium tankers and shanty covered house boats pulled into the vast web of piers and docking stations, most laid out at anchor. But towering above it all are a pair of promethium harvesting plants built into the marshes that spread out from the docks, their wells dug deep into the weeping earth, as well as vast networks of pipelines and storage tanks for the receiving of promethium from locations farther away, and within these facilities you make out the cog sigils of small Mechanicus shrines. Warehouses and tenements and stores crawl along the piers and docks with little rhyme or reason, and massive stretches of boardwalk are covered in incredibly dense slums that rise up to rest against the walls of the promethium plants. These, you see, are cut off from most of the rest of the docks, many even lacking any land connection to the surrounding docks.

"The Pelager ghettos." Palais notes with distaste.

It is Caelia who spots the warehouse first. It is not located far at all from one of the promethium receiving facilities-surprisingly close to the Mechanicus shrines, in truth. It is a small complex of interlocking structures, with the one on the left partially caved in, perhaps from age or a shell from the war that was never truly repaired. Surrounded by walls on three sides, the obvious way in leads into the courtyard between the structures, though there's a rusted gate in the back. It's difficult to make out many details without scopes but you do the best. You make out a pair of old cargo-8 trucks lined up against the back of the warehouses, perhaps as an escape route, and at least a few individuals patrolling the rooftops. Palais believes she sees at least a few long-rifles among them.

As you watch, two more trucks, both civilian junkers arrive, bringing with them a swarm of figures as well as several lumbering shapes you believe may be servitors of some description. They certainly bulkier than the one you saw at the courtyard. You see the figures shifting around something down there, but you can't make many details. You do see a cargo sentinel lumber out to help move some of the boxes they're shifting, before retreating back into the warehouse. It looked like it may have had some additional plating to protect the pilot, though it appeared unarmed, it might still be able to hurt you badly with its legs and hauler arms.

"Wait. There." Palais notes, pointing out a group of figures moving to a hole in the second floor of the middle structure. It takes a long minute to tell they seem to be moving around some sort of large, multi-man device, with what looks like power conduits leading to a civilian generator. Shortly after, they cover up the hole with a tarp to obscure the position. One limping figure in particular seems to be organizing the effort. "Not quite sure what that was. I think I saw what looked like Merud Guild markings on it, though. Mining equipment of some sort, I think?"

As night falls, the figure who'd been directing the efforts departs, flanked by several figures, including a few of the lumbering shapes from earlier. If those are servitors, they seem armored in some fashion. Some of the lamp poles flicker to life dimly, and the the figure stops by several that don't for a few minutes. Eventually, some of the lamp poles blaze to life. After some time, the figure returns to the warehouse complex, where the other groups of individuals are setting up lumen globes or donning stab-lights. A few of these the apparent overseer stops by, leaving only after the lights turn on. The figure disappears inside the middle structure, nearest the cars in the back..

"We're nearing the meeting time." Palais says.

Click to shrink...

Eriko shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts. Her vision had wavered as the minutes had passed, not out of sudden pain but from the creeping exhaustion one would feel from going through a whole day of fighting and travel then intensive medical care after all that. Dusk had come and gone and now they were left in the city's darkness, in addition to the smog and dirt filling the air. An apt time to meet with those who preferred their activities obscured from Imperial light.

Still, she caught what Palais had noted and she hummed in thought.

"Curious," Eriko says. "What would a criminal and rabble-rouser need mining equipment for? I hope he does not believe he will be so free from Imperial Law as to openly begin his own Promethium mining operations."

"Whatever it was, it appears to be operated from that position. We simply must avoid getting in front of it." Caelia says, wearily. "Assuming it's a weapon of some sort. Could be....whatever they use for mining?" She shrugs. She thinks for a moment.

"The Luminator certainly Is working hard to prepare for us. Mayhaps he fears us, or is properly wary at least? Something we can use Sister Superior?

(OOC: Proceed)

Click to shrink...

"As he rightly should, Sister Caelia." Eriko pushes herself off the rubble she had been resting on and looks down into the erstwhile Mechanicus warehouse. "The quality of their arms and armour mean so little that numbers merely serve to annoy, like a fly that does not settle. And we are Imperial authorities entering the man's house upon invitation. Bread and drink. So all he is allowed to do is posture, a thin veneer of strength when all he can really do is tell us no."

With a quick glance at her armour's diagnostics, she confirms that Storm of Summer is at an agreeable readiness level. She gives a nod to Palais.

"I and my armour is ready, Sister-Superior. At your word we shall approach. And our MO? I assume weapons mag-locked and slow, steady movements."

 

[SirLagginton]

Maria went back to the Viatorem for a few supplies and returned with a creature comforts for the wait. Ration packs warm from the Rhino's hull, and a cup of boiling water for both herself and Ilana. She sank to the ground opposite the mercenary with the tarot, stretching her leg out to relieve all pressure on the cilice. A little ignoble, but necessary. She tore open a little foil pouch and muttered a prayer as the brown crystals within hit hot water and dissolved.

Content to eat and refresh she watched the cards with somber quiet.

Click to shrink...

Ilana accepted the proffered cup with a grateful smile and a prayer before reclining back, enjoying the warm drink in her hands. She watched the mercenary consult His tarot with an idle eye, noting the billowing steam that bloomed from the ration packs atop the Rhino's hull, further encouraged by the vigour of the Viatorem's recently active machine spirit. She amused herself by intrepreting the signs beqeathed upon them by the tarot, He was always watching after all, perhaps the Emperor would deign to grace them with a sign through such.

So you wait. The sun dips down over the horizon, the moon rises up. Still, you wait, watching Hospitaller and medics and wounded alike pass by. Even fellow Battle-Sisters, mostly from the Commandery under Cannoness-Commander Jessira, but some from your own Mission. Squad Ophania passes by, their scarlet armor blackened but what looks like a close range explosive blast and one of their members limping. Their Sister-Superior pauses as she spies your markings, studying them for a moment. Her Sisters halt beside her, the limping one waving her hand with surprising cheer.

"Squad Palais. Any casualties?" Ophania asks, her tone clipped.

From within the tent, you can hear one of the prisoners beginning to talk. It seems the Witch-Finder has made a breakthrough.

Click to shrink...

"Sister-Superior," Ilana joined Maria in her salute. "Emperor bless, it is as Maria says. The square has been purged of heretic and daemon. We are here as a detachment "

Ilana paused, distracted as she directed her attention to the inside of the tent. She gave an apologetic look. "I must beg your pardon, but I must tend to an interrogation. It is best to hear information from the source as it were. Sisters." She gave a shallow bow before she turned to duck under the tent.

It wasn't like she distrusted Zayneth to do his job, he did struck her as neither incompetent not untrustworthy. But it is as she said to Sister Ophania, that sometimes it was best to be present to hear it from the grox's mouth so to speak.

OOC: Interrogation time!

1. Where is Eneresh
2. Any other criminal and potentially heretical contacts
3. Where are their headquarters and any other major bases of operation

 

[Shephard]

"Whatever it was, it appears to be operated from that position. We simply must avoid getting in front of it." Caelia says, wearily. "Assuming it's a weapon of some sort. Could be....whatever they use for mining?" She shrugs. She thinks for a moment.

(OOC: Proceed)

Click to shrink...

Eriko shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts. Her vision had wavered as the minutes had passed, not out of sudden pain but from the creeping exhaustion one would feel from going through a whole day of fighting and travel then intensive medical care after all that. Dusk had come and gone and now they were left in the city's darkness, in addition to the smog and dirt filling the air. An apt time to meet with those who preferred their activities obscured from Imperial light.

Still, she caught what Palais had noted and she hummed in thought.

"Curious," Eriko says. "What would a criminal and rabble-rouser need mining equipment for? I hope he does not believe he will be so free from Imperial Law as to openly begin his own Promethium mining operations."

Click to shrink...

"It covers the main entrance." Palais says, shaking her head. "If the Lumenator is as paranoid as I suspect, he'll bolt if we try coming in from another direction. Whatever it is, I doubt it's just for promethium mining." She cocks her head for a moment, as though considering the thought. "Even if he were, it'd be obvious in the midst of the city. Easier to scrounge the black water that rises to the surface of the promethium bogs, in any case. Active drilling isn't too common."

The two of you consider for a long moment. Neither of you have much knowledge of mining, but you are familiar with the nature of improvised weapons. Many civilian pieces of equipment such as melta-cutters or breaching drills can be made into deadly, if unwieldy, weapons. Caelia, indeed, has heard tales of rebel forces improvising high grade mining lasers into a sort of makeshift emplaced gun, useful for anti-armor work and capable of threatening light armor or even an armored Sororitas-with luck at least.
<Challenging Lore (War) roll succeeded. 1 DoS greendoor)

"Whatever it is, we'll be cautious." Palais says, checking her bolt pistol. "But not too cautious. We've faced worse than some ganger dregs today."

"The Luminator certainly Is working hard to prepare for us. Mayhaps he fears us, or is properly wary at least? Something we can use Sister Superior?

(OOC: Proceed)

Click to shrink...

"As he rightly should, Sister Caelia." Eriko pushes herself off the rubble she had been resting on and looks down into the erstwhile Mechanicus warehouse. "The quality of their arms and armour mean so little that numbers merely serve to annoy, like a fly that does not settle. And we are Imperial authorities entering the man's house upon invitation. Bread and drink. So all he is allowed to do is posture, a thin veneer of strength when all he can really do is tell us no."

With a quick glance at her armour's diagnostics, she confirms that Storm of Summer is at an agreeable readiness level. She gives a nod to Palais.

"I and my armour is ready, Sister-Superior. At your word we shall approach. And our MO? I assume weapons mag-locked and slow, steady movements."

Click to shrink...

"The Lumenator is scared. It was said before he was paranoid-And I can see that here." Palais concurs. "Weapons in hand, but lowered. I will not go into this criminal's pit like petitioners." Palais replies. "But yes, let's keep it slow. I have a feeling he won't be difficult to scare."

You make your way down from the tenement, down through the winding, disorganized streets, and it is not long until you arrive at the warehouse. Its walls are chipped and waterworn, moss growing across the dilapidated gargoyles that crown its roof. Bullet holes and graffiti cover the surrounding walls and the building itself. But it is lit like a beacon in the growing light, almost comforting in some sense.

"I see you, Sisters of Battle." A laud-hailer blares from the building. Kristold Lumenator. "Enter the courtyard, slowly."

Palais shrugs, striding into the courtyard, but she keeps an eye on the raised position covering your approach. The welcoming party stands ready to meet you. Bands of scarred, tattooed killers and criminals, many bearing substantial signs of cyber-augmentation, from creaking limbs to blazing eyes and cranial implants. Most don't spot you at first, their eyes unable to pierce the darkness of the night, but some with eye implants tense as you approach the light of the lamp-posts. One woman, wearing a bulky looking set of thermal goggles that seem incredibly unwieldy compared to the simple glasses or contacts you are used to, motions at those surrounding.

"Get the stab-lights on 'em!" She calls out.

As your armor is haloed by the gangers' lights, many of the criminal them flinch back. As you approach their guns and swords shift uneasily in hand, and you notice they scurry behind carefully placed crates, storage containers and barrels for some level of cover from your weapons. Some, however, stand brazenly in the open, watching you with almost bored gazes. These, you note, bear cranial implants which Eriko easily identifies as Lobo-chips: A crude if effective treatment for brain damage or violent mental illness, though also a way for some individuals to escape the fear and despair of life or for warlords to create loyal shocktroops. They are far from uncommon among gangs such as this, as a way to deal with more violent members or for members to escape their fears.

Palais comes to a halt, resting her chainsword on her shoulder as she scans the environment. This close you can see heavy stubbers in raised positions, some of the criminals with mags in their rifles dotted with colors you suspect indicate armor piercing rounds. Melta-cutters or breaching drills, hiding in the background, as well as improvised grenade crossbows. Little that can offer serious threat, but they seem to have been willing to make the attempt. Several of the thugs, you note, are wearing old flak vests, or cobbled together suits of plast-steel plates in vague mimicry of carapace armor. Inside one of the walls, you make out the engine of an idling loader sentinel-that, at least, may be a threat.

"Where are you, Kristold?" Palais asks. Several of the gangers shift uneasily. One steps forward with a battered, groaning auspex, scanning the three of you. "Really?" Palais asks. You see other gangers sweeping out, as though expecting an ambush to suddenly arrive.

Finally, out of one of the doors to the main warehouse, several figures emerge. Slow, shambling figures clad in heavy improvised plating over pale flesh and cyber-augments, crudely bolted on heavy stubbers scanning over you. Servitors, industrial ones retro-fitted for combat, you would hazard. Stepping gingerly behind these shambling drones comes another figure-Kristold.

He is a slim man, unhealthily pale and his eyes wide and bloodshot, his hair shaved away. A gasmask similar to the grilles of Mechanicus tech-priests covers his lower face, but as he approaches, he hesitates for a moment, and pulls it aside with a shaking hand. He takes a sip from a silver flask at his side, then steps forward. You see his right arm is gone at the elbow, replaced by a crude cybernetic-That wasn't in the pictures you were shown in the briefing. Two lobo-chipped bodyguards flank him, both carrying slabs of metal beaten into shields.

"The Adepta Sororitas." Kristold says, remaining a comfortable distance away behind a wall of servitor meatshields. "I didn't really expect the holy daughters of the Emperor to come and meet with me. I am honored to be in your presence, oh holy ones." He says, his voice cool and collected in defiance of his appearance. "Please, forgive my precautions. You never know when the Mechanicus might decide that they should have done more than throw me out." He says, a wry smile on his face. "But I'm sure there's no love lost between the Emperor's faithful Sisters and those self-righteous brutes, is there? Here you are, saving the district they put so many resources into its called 'The Little Cog' and they haven't so much as said hello, have they?"

Palais shifts, slightly.

"Typical Tech-Priests. They don't cafe for anyone but themselves-Not even the Spirits under their protection." The man says, a flash of anger crossing his face, but its gone as soon as it appeared. "When I first got that call from Ollanius, why, I almost thought the Skitarii had a gun to his head. But the Sisters of Battle, wanting to meet with me. I can hardly believe it, even now." He shakes his head. "Can I get you something? Chairs? Refreshments?"

"That won't be necessary, Kristold." Palais replies. "Do you know why we're here?"

"To speak with me. On the state of this district, on the chaos running rampant through it..." He nods. "Well. I'm here now, holy ones. Let's speak. How many I be of assistance to your holy mission?"

Maria went back to the Viatorem for a few supplies and returned with a creature comforts for the wait. Ration packs warm from the Rhino's hull, and a cup of boiling water for both herself and Ilana. She sank to the ground opposite the mercenary with the tarot, stretching her leg out to relieve all pressure on the cilice. A little ignoble, but necessary. She tore open a little foil pouch and muttered a prayer as the brown crystals within hit hot water and dissolved.

Content to eat and refresh she watched the cards with somber quiet.

Click to shrink...

The discomfort of your cilice keeps you from enjoying the period of rest, but you stomach the pain with little issue. The recaf rejuvenates you as well, bringing you back to full alertness (1 fatigue lost from Cilice. Regain 1 fatigue from recaf).

The mercenary draws three cards after some time. It is a common, Imperator spread. The card on the left, indicating something about the past or how the problem came to be, is the Saint (Righteousness, intolerance, virtue, honor). The middle-card, suggesting the problem itself, is the card of the Administrator (Control, management, advancement) The card on the right, indicating the solution, seems to be the Rogue Trader-a card with many meanings such as a headlong rush into life, a strong man, bravery, a skillful and clever person, an unexpected coming or going of a matter, a troublemaker, or a crafty and secretive person. The man goes back to shuffling the cards.

The food gone, cups emptied and cleaned, Maria was back in fighting form. She saluted the sister-superior.

"None from our demi-squad Sister-Superior. Squads Palais and Derosa proper found more trouble at the square, but nothing the sisters of Pure Water could not mend."

Click to shrink...

"Sister-Superior," Ilana joined Maria in her salute. "Emperor bless, it is as Maria says. The square has been purged of heretic and daemon. We are here as a detachment "

Ilana paused, distracted as she directed her attention to the inside of the tent. She gave an apologetic look. "I must beg your pardon, but I must tend to an interrogation. It is best to hear information from the source as it were. Sisters." She gave a shallow bow before she turned to duck under the tent.

Click to shrink...

Sister-Superior Ophania does not seem surprised by your reference to Daemons, though it is hard to tell through her helmet. As she stands there, you recall the nature of the Sister-Superior-A former repentia, you remember. It is said that she took out her own tongue during her penance.

"Good." The Sister-Superior says. "I am glad Squad Palais is unharmed."

One of the mercs gestures at the wounded sister. "Uhm, are you alright?" He asks.

The wounded Sister laughs, though it is a pained laugh. "Fine, fine. We were clearing out some buildings with the Palatine, and we found an IED factory. Heretics panicked so much one of them tried using a flamer right next to a row of det-charges. Killed themselves and singed our armor, is all. Just hurt my leg a bit, nothing serious."

"They set it intentionally." Ophania states, teresely. "We must be off. Come, Sister Ollania."

It wasn't like she distrusted Zayneth to do his job, he did struck her as neither incompetent not untrustworthy. But it is as she said to Sister Ophania, that sometimes it was best to be present to hear it from the grox's mouth so to speak.

OOC: Interrogation time!

1. Where is Eneresh
2. Any other criminal and potentially heretical contacts
3. Where are their headquarters and any other major bases of operation

Click to shrink...

Zayneth flinches as you enter the tent in surprise, but swiftly recovers. He carries on with a smile, seemingly proud as he pulls answers out of the prisoners for you. At times you think he even plays up the drama of the interrogation.

Eneresh tends to stick near Vennedes, providing the other woman advice and protection-find Vennedes, you find Eneresh. She seemed to have 'freaked out' shortly before the cultists arrived at the riot before the Merud guild's walls and told Vennedes they had to leave, but Vennedes was hesitant. The cultists hit before Vennedes could pull her people back, and Eneresh killed multiple heretics with her powers-burning several alive in a 'great inferno'. According to one of the prisoners, the cultists practically threw themselves after her-part of the reason the Vennedes rioters took such heavy losses. The prisoners seem surprised at the idea of 'heretical contacts'. At most, some of Vennedes recruits are smugglers who deal with the swamp tribes, some of which are not Emperor worshipping, but even that is a stretch. None are quite sure how the cultists have been getting in the tribesmen from the swamplands. Indeed, some of the prisoners seem to be under the delusion that Eneresh is some miracle worker or otherwise Emperor-sent to help them.

Vennedes seems to have a patchwork of criminal allies, and she has certainly cooperated with looting, smuggling and other efforts to gather resources to survive, and has captained several bloody riots. Nonetheless, unlike Kristold Lumenator, she has little truck with the local gangs-Those that came to her seem to be no different than the ordinary civilian who have.

The group has few 'major bases of operation' as they are not terribly well organized, despite Vennedes efforts and popularity. They have some hideout and meeting grounds, but their largest one was mysteriously evacuated a week ago under Eneresh's direction. The prisoners, after some pushing by the Witch-Finder, give a few likely locations Vennedes and Eneresh would have fled after the riot went so badly for them. The most likely location they believe to be 'Carmine Tower', an old tenement block used as a headquarters by a vigilante groupthat makes up the largest of Vennedes' following factions. It has been a stronghold in many gang wars before the vigilante group took control f it, and is fairly well fortified. Given how many people Vennedes lost, it is likely she will be regrouping there.

"Please don't hurt them!" One of the prisoners begs, clasping her hands together. "Vennedes and Eneresh are good people! They're just doing what they had to!"

"Yes, like setting Imperial citizens on fire." Zayneth replies drily before turning his attention to you."Anything more you need, Sister?"

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

"The Lumenator is scared. It was said before he was paranoid-And I can see that here." Palais concurs. "Weapons in hand, but lowered. I will not go into this criminal's pit like petitioners." Palais replies. "But yes, let's keep it slow. I have a feeling he won't be difficult to scare."

You make your way down from the tenement, down through the winding, disorganized streets, and it is not long until you arrive at the warehouse. Its walls are chipped and waterworn, moss growing across the dilapidated gargoyles that crown its roof. Bullet holes and graffiti cover the surrounding walls and the building itself. But it is lit like a beacon in the growing light, almost comforting in some sense.

"I see you, Sisters of Battle." A laud-hailer blares from the building. Kristold Lumenator. "Enter the courtyard, slowly."

Palais shrugs, striding into the courtyard, but she keeps an eye on the raised position covering your approach. The welcoming party stands ready to meet you. Bands of scarred, tattooed killers and criminals, many bearing substantial signs of cyber-augmentation, from creaking limbs to blazing eyes and cranial implants. Most don't spot you at first, their eyes unable to pierce the darkness of the night, but some with eye implants tense as you approach the light of the lamp-posts. One woman, wearing a bulky looking set of thermal goggles that seem incredibly unwieldy compared to the simple glasses or contacts you are used to, motions at those surrounding.

"Get the stab-lights on 'em!" She calls out.

As your armor is haloed by the gangers' lights, many of the criminal them flinch back. As you approach their guns and swords shift uneasily in hand, and you notice they scurry behind carefully placed crates, storage containers and barrels for some level of cover from your weapons. Some, however, stand brazenly in the open, watching you with almost bored gazes. These, you note, bear cranial implants which Eriko easily identifies as Lobo-chips: A crude if effective treatment for brain damage or violent mental illness, though also a way for some individuals to escape the fear and despair of life or for warlords to create loyal shocktroops. They are far from uncommon among gangs such as this, as a way to deal with more violent members or for members to escape their fears.

Palais comes to a halt, resting her chainsword on her shoulder as she scans the environment. This close you can see heavy stubbers in raised positions, some of the criminals with mags in their rifles dotted with colors you suspect indicate armor piercing rounds. Melta-cutters or breaching drills, hiding in the background, as well as improvised grenade crossbows. Little that can offer serious threat, but they seem to have been willing to make the attempt. Several of the thugs, you note, are wearing old flak vests, or cobbled together suits of plast-steel plates in vague mimicry of carapace armor. Inside one of the walls, you make out the engine of an idling loader sentinel-that, at least, may be a threat.

"Where are you, Kristold?" Palais asks. Several of the gangers shift uneasily. One steps forward with a battered, groaning auspex, scanning the three of you. "Really?" Palais asks. You see other gangers sweeping out, as though expecting an ambush to suddenly arrive.

Click to shrink...

It seemed the reverse of the stories she had read, Eriko notes as she strides beside Palais. Striding into the lions den, except the trio of Battle Sisters were the lions and everyone here sheep.

She held her weapon with a casual ease, unconcerned by the many eyes and weapons that were no doubt trained on them. Yet within her armour, her breaths were shallow and she only managed to stand tall through the support Storm of Summers gave her. She kept an eye around her, placing markers on the Lumenator's troops, their composition and arms, and the defensive fortifications, whatever little benefit they offered.

She stood stock still as the auspex scanned her, ignoring the ganger as she turned to her Sisters. "Kristold aims to impress the state of his forces. If one good thing could be said about the man it is that he is as thorough as someone of his station could be. I only next anticipate what secret weapon he would reveal from under his sleeve."

Finally, out of one of the doors to the main warehouse, several figures emerge. Slow, shambling figures clad in heavy improvised plating over pale flesh and cyber-augments, crudely bolted on heavy stubbers scanning over you. Servitors, industrial ones retro-fitted for combat, you would hazard. Stepping gingerly behind these shambling drones comes another figure-Kristold.

He is a slim man, unhealthily pale and his eyes wide and bloodshot, his hair shaved away. A gasmask similar to the grilles of Mechanicus tech-priests covers his lower face, but as he approaches, he hesitates for a moment, and pulls it aside with a shaking hand. He takes a sip from a silver flask at his side, then steps forward. You see his right arm is gone at the elbow, replaced by a crude cybernetic-That wasn't in the pictures you were shown in the briefing. Two lobo-chipped bodyguards flank him, both carrying slabs of metal beaten into shields.

"The Adepta Sororitas." Kristold says, remaining a comfortable distance away behind a wall of servitor meatshields. "I didn't really expect the holy daughters of the Emperor to come and meet with me. I am honored to be in your presence, oh holy ones." He says, his voice cool and collected in defiance of his appearance. "Please, forgive my precautions. You never know when the Mechanicus might decide that they should have done more than throw me out." He says, a wry smile on his face. "But I'm sure there's no love lost between the Emperor's faithful Sisters and those self-righteous brutes, is there? Here you are, saving the district they put so many resources into its called 'The Little Cog' and they haven't so much as said hello, have they?"

Palais shifts, slightly.

"Typical Tech-Priests. They don't cafe for anyone but themselves-Not even the Spirits under their protection." The man says, a flash of anger crossing his face, but its gone as soon as it appeared. "When I first got that call from Ollanius, why, I almost thought the Skitarii had a gun to his head. But the Sisters of Battle, wanting to meet with me. I can hardly believe it, even now." He shakes his head. "Can I get you something? Chairs? Refreshments?"

"That won't be necessary, Kristold." Palais replies. "Do you know why we're here?"

"To speak with me. On the state of this district, on the chaos running rampant through it..." He nods. "Well. I'm here now, holy ones. Let's speak. How many I be of assistance to your holy mission?"

Click to shrink...

Eriko gives a sidelong glance to her Sisters before she speaks, barely moving from her position. Only the difference in her voice and accent serving to distinguish her speaking from Palais. "An olive branch, Kristold. There is no love lost between you and the Imperial authorities of this district but we have a different cause. We are impartial, and we see in you an opportunity against this crisis. Or crises as it were. A pandemic of a disease once thought extinct, riots and suffering on the streets, and this cult using the chaos to scurry like rats in the warrens."

She gestures at Kristold's new cybernetic-arm, breaking the spell of stillness. "If I were so bold, then it seems you are not untouched."

"You speak of assistance and it is exactly that which we seek in this wider conflict. When the night is dark the door of the Burning Rose is open to all would-be allies, you and those who follow you included."

 

[greendoor]

He is a slim man, unhealthily pale and his eyes wide and bloodshot, his hair shaved away. A gasmask similar to the grilles of Mechanicus tech-priests covers his lower face, but as he approaches, he hesitates for a moment, and pulls it aside with a shaking hand. He takes a sip from a silver flask at his side, then steps forward. You see his right arm is gone at the elbow, replaced by a crude cybernetic-That wasn't in the pictures you were shown in the briefing. Two lobo-chipped bodyguards flank him, both carrying slabs of metal beaten into shields.

"The Adepta Sororitas." Kristold says, remaining a comfortable distance away behind a wall of servitor meatshields. "I didn't really expect the holy daughters of the Emperor to come and meet with me. I am honored to be in your presence, oh holy ones." He says, his voice cool and collected in defiance of his appearance. "Please, forgive my precautions. You never know when the Mechanicus might decide that they should have done more than throw me out." He says, a wry smile on his face. "But I'm sure there's no love lost between the Emperor's faithful Sisters and those self-righteous brutes, is there? Here you are, saving the district they put so many resources into its called 'The Little Cog' and they haven't so much as said hello, have they?"

Palais shifts, slightly.

"Typical Tech-Priests. They don't cafe for anyone but themselves-Not even the Spirits under their protection." The man says, a flash of anger crossing his face, but its gone as soon as it appeared. "When I first got that call from Ollanius, why, I almost thought the Skitarii had a gun to his head. But the Sisters of Battle, wanting to meet with me. I can hardly believe it, even now." He shakes his head. "Can I get you something? Chairs? Refreshments?"

Click to shrink...

Caelia suppresses a snort at the Lumenator's attempt at politeness-everyone was polite when both parties had guns under the table. It was one of the basic precepts of diplomacy. She was tempted to speak up and dispel this charade-she was not in a mood to entertain a criminal's delusions. She stopped herself-for however outmatched his troops appeared, they had prepared for them and could have any number of surprises up their sleeve. The proverbial gun. Secondly, it defeated the purpose of their visit here. Who knows how a man like Kristold, who bore his grudges so openly would react to open snubbing? It almost certainly would not help their negotiating position. The man obviously had access to resources, intelligence, and contacts. A fool threw that away when the heretic was in one's midst.

Besides, it would've been impolite.

"Typical Tech-Priests. They don't cafe for anyone but themselves-Not even the Spirits under their protection." The man says, a flash of anger crossing his face, but its gone as soon as it appeared. "When I first got that call from Ollanius, why, I almost thought the Skitarii had a gun to his head. But the Sisters of Battle, wanting to meet with me. I can hardly believe it, even now." He shakes his head. "Can I get you something? Chairs? Refreshments?"

"That won't be necessary, Kristold." Palais replies. "Do you know why we're here?"

"To speak with me. On the state of this district, on the chaos running rampant through it..." He nods. "Well. I'm here now, holy ones. Let's speak. How many I be of assistance to your holy mission?"

Click to shrink...

Eriko gives a sidelong glance to her Sisters before she speaks, barely moving from her position. Only the difference in her voice and accent serving to distinguish her speaking from Palais. "An olive branch, Kristold. There is no love lost between you and the Imperial authorities of this district but we have a different cause. We are impartial, and we see in you an opportunity against this crisis. Or crises as it were. A pandemic of a disease once thought extinct, riots and suffering on the streets, and this cult using the chaos to scurry like rats in the warrens."

She gestures at Kristold's new cybernetic-arm, breaking the spell of stillness. "If I were so bold, then it seems you are not untouched."

"You speak of assistance and it is exactly that which we seek in this wider conflict. When the night is dark the door of the Burning Rose is open to all would-be allies, you and those who follow you included."

Click to shrink...

"You have forces-quite well prepared and equipped ones." Caelia sweeps her Warhelm's heavy gaze out over the men arranged around her and her sisters, adding to what Eriko said. "And contacts." Caelia continues. She consciously left out that they were only well equipped for an underhive gang, or that the contacts were with men like Ollenius Black. "Forces that could be turned to the Emperor's work. Allies that could be telling us where the cult is." She continued, voice even through the warhelm's voxhorn.

Those forces should've already have been theirs-that they had to come here to beg the Luminator to do his duty was telling. She held her tongue though. Such was the pains of diplomacy.

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

"You have forces-quite well prepared and equipped ones." Caelia sweeps her Warhelm's heavy gaze out over the men arranged around her and her sisters, adding to what Eriko said. "And contacts." Caelia continues. She consciously left out that they were only well equipped for an underhive gang, or that the contacts were with men like Ollenius Black. "Forces that could be turned to the Emperor's work. Allies that could be telling us where the cult is." She continued, voice even through the warhelm's voxhorn.

Those forces should've already have been theirs-that they had to come here to beg the Luminator to do his duty was telling. She held her tongue though. Such was the pains of diplomacy.

Click to shrink...

Eriko nods after her Sister then continues the offer.

"We will be able to act as third-party negotiators between you and the Arbites. They trust us and after we flush out the cult that infests this district, they will come to owe us their arms as well. It would be preferred that they be pointed away from your interests, yes?"

She pauses, letting her words hang in the air.

"Like the Order of the Burning Rose, the amount of assistance rendered will determine the amount of slack the Arbites will give in return. Perhaps even a blanket amnesty is in order but only for substantial aid. The amount of assistance and thus the reward is ultimately in your hands."

 

[Shephard]

Eriko gives a sidelong glance to her Sisters before she speaks, barely moving from her position. Only the difference in her voice and accent serving to distinguish her speaking from Palais. "An olive branch, Kristold. There is no love lost between you and the Imperial authorities of this district but we have a different cause. We are impartial, and we see in you an opportunity against this crisis. Or crises as it were. A pandemic of a disease once thought extinct, riots and suffering on the streets, and this cult using the chaos to scurry like rats in the warrens."

She gestures at Kristold's new cybernetic-arm, breaking the spell of stillness. "If I were so bold, then it seems you are not untouched."

"You speak of assistance and it is exactly that which we seek in this wider conflict. When the night is dark the door of the Burning Rose is open to all would-be allies, you and those who follow you included."

Click to shrink...

"Hardly extinct. But this has been the first significant outbreak in..." Kristold pauses, metal talons tapping idly against his knee in some obscure beat. "...Forever, really. The outlanders suffer it more regularly."

The beat hesitates a moment, Lumenator looking over his machine-arm. "The flesh is weak, Sister. I fell under the grip of the schechin virus recently. Though I was able to acquire medicine and pull through, my arm was a lost cause. I was forced to remove the necrotic tissue and perform the replacement." He looks up from behind his wall of servitor bodyguards, eyes closing for a moment. "Some would say I was never a good lay-tech. Warp, the Lumen Globe guild kicked me out for missing my guild payments-But I replaced my own arm. Even high on morphia and bloodloss, risking infection and death, I attached the limb. Their loss."

There's a long pause as he considers your words. "The Adepta Sororitas are open to all would be allies." He says, rolling the words in his mouth. "I am of course, willing to aid the holy Daughters of the Emperor. What would you have of the finest lay-tech on Dreverarch?"

"You have forces-quite well prepared and equipped ones." Caelia sweeps her Warhelm's heavy gaze out over the men arranged around her and her sisters, adding to what Eriko said. "And contacts." Caelia continues. She consciously left out that they were only well equipped for an underhive gang, or that the contacts were with men like Ollenius Black. "Forces that could be turned to the Emperor's work. Allies that could be telling us where the cult is." She continued, voice even through the warhelm's voxhorn.

Those forces should've already have been theirs-that they had to come here to beg the Luminator to do his duty was telling. She held her tongue though. Such was the pains of diplomacy.

Click to shrink...

You you see the man's shoulders slump, slightly. "Ah. My forces, yes." He says, waving a hand at the gangers and thugs who shift uneasily in the shadows. "I-"

"We ain't his 'forces'. We're partners." Grunts a female ganger with a particularly impressive set of tattoos. A few other gangers mutter assent.

Something flashes in Kristold's eyes, and he makes a hasty motion to silence the talk. "Yes, some are business associates. Others are brothers and sisters for the cause of saving this district. I am not a gang-lord or rebel commander, whatever some people may have said of me. I am a man who knows the rites of the machines, and I'm someone who people seem to like listening to. No, these aren't my forces but-" Kristold says, hands moving animatedly, as though forestalling a barrage of bolt rounds. "-My words and services can hold a great deal of sway."

"The people have felt lost and abandoned by the powers that be, but you are proof that we are not forsaken. You are..." He considers a moment. "...Evidence to the Little Cog district of the Emperor-Omnissiah's love. Yesterday, people were fighting for survival. Now? Oh yes, Sisters, I can turn the people of this district toward the Emperor's work. I can stoke their fear and hate toward a righteous cause. I can direct my associates to tell you where the cult is-I am sure that it will cost me, for the less pious among them will ask for discounts and free service in exchange for their aid. But I am willing to pay that price for the Emperor's Daughters. I am willing to pay that price for the sake of the Little Cog district."

Your Sister-Superior leans forward, her voice ringing through her warhelm. "I had not expected to hear such selflessness from you, Kristold." She says, and you perhaps detect a note of sarcasm. If Kristold notices, he says nothing.

"Before your arrival, oh holy one, the Officio Medicae and PDF had left us to die. Of course, I railed against such cowardice. They abandoned their duty and have the gall to call us criminals?" The snarl that rings through his mask sounds surprisingly authentic. "Now, I see the Emperor has sent aid where others fell short. I see the Archenemy is among us. Of course, I will do my duty."

Eriko nods after her Sister then continues the offer.

"We will be able to act as third-party negotiators between you and the Arbites. They trust us and after we flush out the cult that infests this district, they will come to owe us their arms as well. It would be preferred that they be pointed away from your interests, yes?"

She pauses, letting her words hang in the air.

"Like the Order of the Burning Rose, the amount of assistance rendered will determine the amount of slack the Arbites will give in return. Perhaps even a blanket amnesty is in order but only for substantial aid. The amount of assistance and thus the reward is ultimately in your hands."

Click to shrink...

Palais glances at you, her voice echoing softly over the vox. "Let us not promise too much to a recidivist, Sister. Amnesty from the Arbites...Don't make liars of us."

The man paces back and forth for several long moments, muttering to himself, too low for even your autosenses to pick up the words. Something about laws, Mechanicus, reinstatement.

"I require no such negotiation, Sisters." The man says, suddenly. "I know my duty and will do it. If the Arbites think I broke the laws of the Lex Imperialis, so be it." He says, waving a hand. "But I have drawn the ire of members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. I am sure you understand how harsh and capricious they may be. You can appreciate how it would be difficult to help you as a servitor?" His tone is light, but you see his gaze flittering across the surrounding rooftops.

Your vague memories of his crimes-Smuggling, assault and battery, inciting unrest, public urination-would certainly result in severe punishments by the laws planetary, and the notes of his censure of Imperial organizations would draw the ire of the Adeptus Arbites, you don't recall anything that would actually call for Skitarii assassins. Had he done something particularly damning that the Arbites were unaware of?

"We could use some more armor polishing servitors, but yes, I see your point." Palais agrees, drily. The man tries to hide a flinch at that. "What are you asking? That we guard you from the Mechanicus? Stand between you and a Skitarii kill-team?"

The man hesitates for a moment. You almost expect him to say yes, but finally, he shakes his head. "No, no, of course not. That'd be ridiculous. However, I would ask that you accept my penance. My oath of contrition and service for whilst you remain here." He says, glancing aside. "I have...Reconsidered my ways of wantonness and drunkenness. My impieties. I would have the Mechanicus understand this."

Palais follows the lay-tech's gaze. One of the gangers, you see now, is not equipped with some esoteric improvised weapons, but a vid-caster, recently oiled. Its owner waves at you from his perch. He means to record his contrition before the Sisters of Battle and then send it to the Mechanicus.

"I won't pretend the Mechanicus respects you. But all the same, they also know you are the Emperor's Daughters. They would not dare to contradict an oath sworn at your most holy feet. Will you accept my penance, oh Sisters of the Burning Rose?" He asks.

Palais hesitates, shifting her chainsword from side to side beside her right pauldron. It was not common for a Sister to hear confessions or penance, but neither was it unheard of. Far from, indeed.

"You understand that penance is more than words? It is castigation as well. It is pain and blood." Palais states.

Kristold raises his cybernetic arm, expression unreadable beneath his mask. "The Flesh is Weak. I am the Emperor's servant, and if my flesh must be scourged, so be it."

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

"Hardly extinct. But this has been the first significant outbreak in..." Kristold pauses, metal talons tapping idly against his knee in some obscure beat. "...Forever, really. The outlanders suffer it more regularly."

The beat hesitates a moment, Lumenator looking over his machine-arm. "The flesh is weak, Sister. I fell under the grip of the schechin virus recently. Though I was able to acquire medicine and pull through, my arm was a lost cause. I was forced to remove the necrotic tissue and perform the replacement." He looks up from behind his wall of servitor bodyguards, eyes closing for a moment. "Some would say I was never a good lay-tech. Warp, the Lumen Globe guild kicked me out for missing my guild payments-But I replaced my own arm. Even high on morphia and bloodloss, risking infection and death, I attached the limb. Their loss."

There's a long pause as he considers your words. "The Adepta Sororitas are open to all would be allies." He says, rolling the words in his mouth. "I am of course, willing to aid the holy Daughters of the Emperor. What would you have of the finest lay-tech on Dreverarch?"

You you see the man's shoulders slump, slightly. "Ah. My forces, yes." He says, waving a hand at the gangers and thugs who shift uneasily in the shadows. "I-"

"We ain't his 'forces'. We're partners." Grunts a female ganger with a particularly impressive set of tattoos. A few other gangers mutter assent.

Something flashes in Kristold's eyes, and he makes a hasty motion to silence the talk. "Yes, some are business associates. Others are brothers and sisters for the cause of saving this district. I am not a gang-lord or rebel commander, whatever some people may have said of me. I am a man who knows the rites of the machines, and I'm someone who people seem to like listening to. No, these aren't my forces but-" Kristold says, hands moving animatedly, as though forestalling a barrage of bolt rounds. "-My words and services can hold a great deal of sway."

"The people have felt lost and abandoned by the powers that be, but you are proof that we are not forsaken. You are..." He considers a moment. "...Evidence to the Little Cog district of the Emperor-Omnissiah's love. Yesterday, people were fighting for survival. Now? Oh yes, Sisters, I can turn the people of this district toward the Emperor's work. I can stoke their fear and hate toward a righteous cause. I can direct my associates to tell you where the cult is-I am sure that it will cost me, for the less pious among them will ask for discounts and free service in exchange for their aid. But I am willing to pay that price for the Emperor's Daughters. I am willing to pay that price for the sake of the Little Cog district."

Your Sister-Superior leans forward, her voice ringing through her warhelm. "I had not expected to hear such selflessness from you, Kristold." She says, and you perhaps detect a note of sarcasm. If Kristold notices, he says nothing.

"Before your arrival, oh holy one, the Officio Medicae and PDF had left us to die. Of course, I railed against such cowardice. They abandoned their duty and have the gall to call us criminals?" The snarl that rings through his mask sounds surprisingly authentic. "Now, I see the Emperor has sent aid where others fell short. I see the Archenemy is among us. Of course, I will do my duty."

Palais glances at you, her voice echoing softly over the vox. "Let us not promise too much to a recidivist, Sister. Amnesty from the Arbites...Don't make liars of us."

The man paces back and forth for several long moments, muttering to himself, too low for even your autosenses to pick up the words. Something about laws, Mechanicus, reinstatement.

"I require no such negotiation, Sisters." The man says, suddenly. "I know my duty and will do it. If the Arbites think I broke the laws of the Lex Imperialis, so be it." He says, waving a hand. "But I have drawn the ire of members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. I am sure you understand how harsh and capricious they may be. You can appreciate how it would be difficult to help you as a servitor?" His tone is light, but you see his gaze flittering across the surrounding rooftops.

Your vague memories of his crimes-Smuggling, assault and battery, inciting unrest, public urination-would certainly result in severe punishments by the laws planetary, and the notes of his censure of Imperial organizations would draw the ire of the Adeptus Arbites, you don't recall anything that would actually call for Skitarii assassins. Had he done something particularly damning that the Arbites were unaware of?

"We could use some more armor polishing servitors, but yes, I see your point." Palais agrees, drily. The man tries to hide a flinch at that. "What are you asking? That we guard you from the Mechanicus? Stand between you and a Skitarii kill-team?"

The man hesitates for a moment. You almost expect him to say yes, but finally, he shakes his head. "No, no, of course not. That'd be ridiculous. However, I would ask that you accept my penance. My oath of contrition and service for whilst you remain here." He says, glancing aside. "I have...Reconsidered my ways of wantonness and drunkenness. My impieties. I would have the Mechanicus understand this."

Palais follows the lay-tech's gaze. One of the gangers, you see now, is not equipped with some esoteric improvised weapons, but a vid-caster, recently oiled. Its owner waves at you from his perch. He means to record his contrition before the Sisters of Battle and then send it to the Mechanicus.

"I won't pretend the Mechanicus respects you. But all the same, they also know you are the Emperor's Daughters. They would not dare to contradict an oath sworn at your most holy feet. Will you accept my penance, oh Sisters of the Burning Rose?" He asks.

Palais hesitates, shifting her chainsword from side to side beside her right pauldron. It was not common for a Sister to hear confessions or penance, but neither was it unheard of. Far from, indeed.

"You understand that penance is more than words? It is castigation as well. It is pain and blood." Palais states.

Kristold raises his cybernetic arm, expression unreadable beneath his mask. "The Flesh is Weak. I am the Emperor's servant, and if my flesh must be scourged, so be it."

Click to shrink...

"I see no harm in this," Eriko comments as Kristold continues. "There is no foreseeable way this confession, public and recorded as it is, cannot be turned against us. It is his character that is at stake."

Of course she had cause to be wary of a pitfall the Lumenator had laid out for them. Perhaps even now they were walking blindly to spring it. Yet how so in a manner and why in such a convoluted way she cannot fathom. A contrite recidivist from Imperial Law, an ally in the Lumenator's "partners". It all seemed too good to be true, but the Emperor's Light shone in the most unexpected places.

Eriko nods, as if sealing the deal. "Then we shall be witness to your confession, Kristold Lumenator, and Emperor's Agents in this world shall soon know of it as well." With the hand not holding her boltgun, she gestures to the vid-caster. "But my Sister-Superior speaks the truth. As ministers of this sacrament we shall determine the act of reparation to be performed and only then will you be absolved, for the language of the contrite is pain and blood."

 

[greendoor]

The man hesitates for a moment. You almost expect him to say yes, but finally, he shakes his head. "No, no, of course not. That'd be ridiculous. However, I would ask that you accept my penance. My oath of contrition and service for whilst you remain here." He says, glancing aside. "I have...Reconsidered my ways of wantonness and drunkenness. My impieties. I would have the Mechanicus understand this."

Palais follows the lay-tech's gaze. One of the gangers, you see now, is not equipped with some esoteric improvised weapons, but a vid-caster, recently oiled. Its owner waves at you from his perch. He means to record his contrition before the Sisters of Battle and then send it to the Mechanicus.

"I won't pretend the Mechanicus respects you. But all the same, they also know you are the Emperor's Daughters. They would not dare to contradict an oath sworn at your most holy feet. Will you accept my penance, oh Sisters of the Burning Rose?" He asks.

Palais hesitates, shifting her chainsword from side to side beside her right pauldron. It was not common for a Sister to hear confessions or penance, but neither was it unheard of. Far from, indeed.

"You understand that penance is more than words? It is castigation as well. It is pain and blood." Palais states.

Kristold raises his cybernetic arm, expression unreadable beneath his mask. "The Flesh is Weak. I am the Emperor's servant, and if my flesh must be scourged, so be it."

Click to shrink...

Caelia grimaced beneath her helmet at this revelation.

She had hoped to a degree, that Kristold was what he had appeared to be. A ganger, an apostate tech. Something easy to understand, easy to manipulate, easy to destroy if necessary or it pleased the Emperor.

Reality unfortunately, had a way of being more complicated.

It wasn't that she suddenly hated the man more-indeed she could only find his sentiment admirable. And if he was merely playing them for politics, that was at least a respectable layer of audacity. She just did not like being thrown for a loop, her assumption completely disproven.

Still, at least it made them getting shot at slightly less likely. As exilerating as breaking them would usually be, she was not in the mood. Not today.

Eriko nods, as if sealing the deal. "Then we shall be witness to your confession, Kristold Lumenator, and Emperor's Agents in this world shall soon know of it as well." With the hand not holding her boltgun, she gestures to the vid-caster. "But my Sister-Superior speaks the truth. As ministers of this sacrament we shall determine the act of reparation to be performed and only then will you be absolved, for the language of the contrite is pain and blood."

Click to shrink...

"You understand that penance is more than words? It is castigation as well. It is pain and blood." Palais states.

Click to shrink...

"I think he understands, Sister." Caelia states, lightly to Eriko. She turns her warhelm's gaze to Kristold.

"Pain is Righteousness entering the body." she quotes, seriously. "We will witness your confession." She repeats her sister, nodding stolidly once, before going still once more. Still, she activates her helmet comn.

"This is a strong man, to have survived the plague and installing that arm. May I suggest a particularly...challenging penance, Sister Superior? He will survive, after all." She whispers into the corn, careful even through the helm.
​

 

[SirLagginton]

Zayneth flinches as you enter the tent in surprise, but swiftly recovers. He carries on with a smile, seemingly proud as he pulls answers out of the prisoners for you. At times you think he even plays up the drama of the interrogation.

Eneresh tends to stick near Vennedes, providing the other woman advice and protection-find Vennedes, you find Eneresh. She seemed to have 'freaked out' shortly before the cultists arrived at the riot before the Merud guild's walls and told Vennedes they had to leave, but Vennedes was hesitant. The cultists hit before Vennedes could pull her people back, and Eneresh killed multiple heretics with her powers-burning several alive in a 'great inferno'. According to one of the prisoners, the cultists practically threw themselves after her-part of the reason the Vennedes rioters took such heavy losses. The prisoners seem surprised at the idea of 'heretical contacts'. At most, some of Vennedes recruits are smugglers who deal with the swamp tribes, some of which are not Emperor worshipping, but even that is a stretch. None are quite sure how the cultists have been getting in the tribesmen from the swamplands. Indeed, some of the prisoners seem to be under the delusion that Eneresh is some miracle worker or otherwise Emperor-sent to help them.

Vennedes seems to have a patchwork of criminal allies, and she has certainly cooperated with looting, smuggling and other efforts to gather resources to survive, and has captained several bloody riots. Nonetheless, unlike Kristold Lumenator, she has little truck with the local gangs-Those that came to her seem to be no different than the ordinary civilian who have.

The group has few 'major bases of operation' as they are not terribly well organized, despite Vennedes efforts and popularity. They have some hideout and meeting grounds, but their largest one was mysteriously evacuated a week ago under Eneresh's direction. The prisoners, after some pushing by the Witch-Finder, give a few likely locations Vennedes and Eneresh would have fled after the riot went so badly for them. The most likely location they believe to be 'Carmine Tower', an old tenement block used as a headquarters by a vigilante group that makes up the largest of Vennedes' following factions. It has been a stronghold in many gang wars before the vigilante group took control f it, and is fairly well fortified. Given how many people Vennedes lost, it is likely she will be regrouping there.

"Please don't hurt them!" One of the prisoners begs, clasping her hands together. "Vennedes and Eneresh are good people! They're just doing what they had to!"

"Yes, like setting Imperial citizens on fire." Zayneth replies drily before turning his attention to you."Anything more you need, Sister?"

Click to shrink...

Ilana leaned over, leaving the prisoner shadowed under her vast bulk as she glared down with little sympathy. "Oh? And what precisely is so important that it warranted the deaths of at least twenty of the Emperor's flock, including a Judge?

Ilana shook her head and turned towards Zayneth, trying to distance the prisoners and the witch they had so foolishly welcomed into their embrace. Their levels of ignorance and naivety were staggering, and now that she had the opportunity to think away from these poor fools their attitude was more disappointing than surprising. Theirs was a demonstration of the folly of the unbarred mind, and she could not help but feel that ultimately the responsibility for their condition rested on the shoulders of the Ecclesiarchy, whom the failure of the citizenry to rightfully revile the workings of the warpspawn was because of their lack of presence to extend their moral guidance. It was that lack of presence that was the ultimate root of misbegotten creeds such as the Redemptionist cults that corrupted the hearts of the otherwise faithful, the cruel waste of lives for imagined sins when the faithful could be taking up arms against the true enemies that threaten the Emperor's Dominion over the galaxy.

In truth, she pitied them more than she was disappointed in them.

"Sister," Ilana bowed her head to the Sister Hospitaller. "My deepest gratitude for your aid. I shall leave the fate of these wretches to the wisdom of your order."

"Hunter Zayneth," Ilana nodded towards him. "You have my gratitude as well. Let us waste no more time here, the Sister-Superior expects a report from me soon, and from then on we can move to capture our quarry."

 

[Shephard]

"I see no harm in this," Eriko comments as Kristold continues. "There is no foreseeable way this confession, public and recorded as it is, can be turned against us. It is his character that is at stake."

Of course she had cause to be wary of a pitfall the Lumenator had laid out for them. Perhaps even now they were walking blindly to spring it. Yet how so in a manner and why in such a convoluted way she cannot fathom. A contrite recidivist from Imperial Law, an ally in the Lumenator's "partners". It all seemed too good to be true, but the Emperor's Light shone in the most unexpected places.

Eriko nods, as if sealing the deal. "Then we shall be witness to your confession, Kristold Lumenator, and Emperor's Agents in this world shall soon know of it as well." With the hand not holding her boltgun, she gestures to the vid-caster. "But my Sister-Superior speaks the truth. As ministers of this sacrament we shall determine the act of reparation to be performed and only then will you be absolved, for the language of the contrite is pain and blood."

Click to shrink...

"I think he understands, Sister." Caelia states, lightly to Eriko. She turns her warhelm's gaze to Kristold.

"Pain is Righteousness entering the body." she quotes, seriously. "We will witness your confession." She repeats her sister, nodding stolidly once, before going still once more. Still, she activates her helmet comn.

"This is a strong man, to have survived the plague and installing that arm. May I suggest a particularly...challenging penance, Sister Superior? He will survive, after all." She whispers into the corn, careful even through the helm.
​

Click to shrink...

Kristold nods his head quickly, seemingly almost eager at the thought. "Can't hurt worse than this," The man says, wiggling the stiff fingers of his augmetic arm. "The flesh is weak. I don't fear it suffering a spot of pain if it means my salvation."

Palais shifts from foot to boot, armor servos whining, but finally she nods at Eriko. "Agreed, this is harmless. Sister Caelia," She says, turning. "You may perform the honor of castigation. Shock off."

Kristold glances at Caelia, pausing briefly to raise his mask and take a long drink from his flask. "Let's get this done. Let's head inside, please," He says, eying distant rooftops. He slides his mask back on as he begins to walk within the building. With a motion of her head toward the two of you, Palais follows.

What follows is several minutes of Kristold preparing the site of his penance, laying out a small shrine to the Emperor-Omnissiah in the form of a dual-featured god of both cogs and flesh, and lighting candles. The gangers for their part lounge about, watching Kristold and his servitors clear out garbage and lay out an intricately decorated pray mat. Palais gives a harsh glare when some of the men begin betting on how many lashes Kristold will take, silencing their perversion of a sacred rite. As the smell of cheap incense fills the room, Kristold strips off his shirt, showing off a slim, pale figure that bears the scars and calluses of hard labor, taut muscle visible between the pale skin. As the man begins removing his mask, Eriko spies the evidence of track marks from drug injectors in the pale flesh of the man's left arm. [Medicae Check success]

Kristold blue eyes shine in the flickering light of the candles, standing out atop a nose that's clearly been broken and reset more than once and a thin goatee. He bows down to the shrine as Palais strides before him, her boltgun and chainsword holstered.

"Kristold Lumenator. You wish to confess your sins before the Immortal God-Emperor, Who Reigns on Terra."

"I do. Emperor-Omnissiah be praised." The man says, bowing low.

Palais nods her head. "I am a Sister-Superior Palais Kavarea of the Adepta Sororitas, sworn to the Saint Leanna of the Rose, Daughter of the Emperor, and Defender of His Church. As you have requested penance, so shall it be delivered, and is is my honor to do so. Before the eyes of the Immortal Emperor, I will lead you in the Sacrament of Penance."

Kristold bows once more. "Emperor-Omnissiah be praised."

Palais leads him in the Rite of Confession. Kristold speaks, voice steady but tone mournful as he admits to his failings. His excesses in drink, sex, and drugs and how he allowed pleasure to overcome his dutifulness to his guild and the Throne. He admits his failings of anger and fury against his fellow Imperials, the authorities of the city and the Adeptus Mechanicus, and confesses his failure to keep his rage in check-admits his shame at nearly striking a tech-priest, and laments how close he almost came to laying a hand upon a man of the cloth. He recants his disobedience to his superiors in the district and his sins, his laxity as the district fell into chaos. Eriko notes he is playing up the inflection in his voice for the camera filming him, though she does detect a hint of truth behind his words. Perhaps it is merely being an excellent actor, for you find the crowd of watching gangers swaying at his words, some of these hardened killers and thugs weeping at the emotion Kristold allows into his voice.
[Scrutiny check success]

To all of this Palais interjects only occasionally, to ask for clarification or speak an evocation to the God-Emperor. Finally, she makes the sign of the aquila over him and splashes the man's forehead with a few droplets of holy water.

"I cannot absolve you of your sin. Only the God-Emperor can do so." Palais says. "But the Immortal Emperor hears His servants, and He has heard your penance."

"Emperor-Omnissiah be Praised." Kristold says, bowing.

"But it is by blood, not words, that the Emperor judges us. In penance for your sins, Kristold Lumenator, I charge you to service against the Arch-Enemy. I charge you to fast and prayer, so you may ruminate upon your failures. And I charge of you castigation of the Flesh. Pain is righteousness entering the body."

She steps back, nodding at Caelia to approach. She unfurls the neural whip, its generator inactive but its razor edge still more than up to the task of tearing into the Lumenator's flesh. And so does it fall, with a hideous snap as it strikes against the man's bare back. A bloody furrow is driven into Kristold's pale flesh, the man flinching but refusing to cry out.

"Emperor-Omnissiah be praised," Kristold breathes.

"Again," Palais commands, nodding firmly as Sister Caelia. And so the lash falls again. And again. And again.

Each strike leaves droplets of blood running down Kristold's snow-pale back, gleaming like rubies in the flickering light of the candles. And with each strike, Kristold bows low, praising the Emperor and begging forgiveness for his sins before the Throne. And with each strike, he holds his tongue, refusing to cry out even as the whip brutalizes his back. Soon, he is swaying back and forth, head drooping momentary as unconsciousness threatens to overcome him. But still, he sits up straight and accepts the blow.

"Again," Palais says. And again the lash continues to fall.

He is panting in pain, each blow making him curl his spine backward, his hands clawing at the air and the prayer rug. But he does not cry out, nothing more than a pained hiss escaping his lips.

"Before the throne-" He hisses in breathless pain. "I lay my sins and impieties! I, unworthy wretch that I am, throw myself before the Master of Mankind and beg His forgiveness."

And finally, the last strike of the lash falls. The man shudders, as a strangled noise rings from his throat. He tilts forward, beginning to topple, then catches himself just before he falls. Limbs shaking, he raises his arms to the air, blood painting his back.

"Emperor-Omnissiah be praised!" He cries. "

"Enough. We're done," Palais says, nodding her head at Sister Caelia. She snorts under her breath as the man pants in pain and begins to recover. "Sister Eriko, see to his back. We're leaving afterward. Just got word from the Palatine-We're being recalled to a forward operating base."

Ilana leaned over, leaving the prisoner shadowed under her vast bulk as she glared down with little sympathy. "Oh? And what precisely is so important that it warranted the deaths of at least twenty of the Emperor's flock, including a Judge?

Ilana shook her head and turned towards Zayneth, trying to distance the prisoners and the witch they had so foolishly welcomed into their embrace. Their levels of ignorance and naivety were staggering, and now that she had the opportunity to think away from these poor fools their attitude was more disappointing than surprising. Theirs was a demonstration of the folly of the unbarred mind, and she could not help but feel that ultimately the responsibility for their condition rested on the shoulders of the Ecclesiarchy, whom the failure of the citizenry to rightfully revile the workings of the warpspawn was because of their lack of presence to extend their moral guidance. It was that lack of presence that was the ultimate root of misbegotten creeds such as the Redemptionist cults that corrupted the hearts of the otherwise faithful, the cruel waste of lives for imagined sins when the faithful could be taking up arms against the true enemies that threaten the Emperor's Dominion over the galaxy.

In truth, she pitied them more than she was disappointed in them.

"Sister," Ilana bowed her head to the Sister Hospitaller. "My deepest gratitude for your aid. I shall leave the fate of these wretches to the wisdom of your order."

"Hunter Zayneth," Ilana nodded towards him. "You have my gratitude as well. Let us waste no more time here, the Sister-Superior expects a report from me soon, and from then on we can move to capture our quarry."

Click to shrink...

The woman doesn't say anything, quailing in fear before your glare. She whimpers in clear terror.

Another prisoner speaks in her place. "If you piss off a grox, you only have yourself to blame when it bites your head off," The man snorts, glaring at you through a black eye. "Maybe if that Judge had gotten off his useless fething arse and done something about the Cultists down 'ere 'fore they blew up the fancy fething witch prison and made Eneresh run, he wouldn't-"

Whatever the man was next to say is interrupted by Vahn Zayneth's fist to the man's face. The rioter's head bounces off the bed with a loud clang, blood running down the back of his head. He groans in obvious pain.

"You will not speak to a Daughter of the Emperor in such a fashion, knave," Zayneth says, rubbing his knuckles. "Apologies, Hospitaller."

The Hospitaller stifles a sigh, nodding at the both of you. She turns toward you. "You are most welcome, Sister. It's my honor to aid a member of the Order of the Burning Rose. The Emperor protects." She says, bowing her head and making the sign of the aquila.

The Witch-Finder nods at your words slowly, a yawn escaping his lips. Before you can stop yourself, you find yourself yawning as well, the hours of the long day tugging at your tired limbs and eyes. Vahn almost jumps at the sound coming from your vox, glancing at you before quickly looking away.
[WP save vs yawn failed.]

"Perhaps we can sleep, first. 'Tis well after night fall," The Witch-Finder says, stifling a second yawn into an embroidered handkerchief. He glances at the mercenaries, about half of them nodded off. "On your feet, you layabouts! Or Emperor help me, I'll cut your pay!"

The sell-swords are back at attention in an instant, and you begin your march forward.

---

Sister Liandra and Sister Anna meet you at the gates to the Merud facility, the towering gates of ceramite and plascrete seeming almost reluctant as they remain open only far enough for a small trickle of people at a time. Bronze collared mercenaries line the walls, shotguns and autoguns scanning the crowds as small bands of nervous looking men distribute food, drink and medicine to the crowds. You note the crowds seem much calmer than before, though you suspect the half mag's worth of bolt shells at Liandra's feet might have something to do with that. At least you don't see any fresh exploded corpses.

"We were about to report you missing, presumed eaten by locals." The younger Sister laughs, giving a tired wave as you approach. She's joking, of course. You reported in. "The Merud Guild has agreed to give you guest rooms, Sir Zayneth."

"You took your time with the interrogation. It's been...Almost five hours," Liandra notes. "You have actionable intelligence?"

"Of course. Duty cannot be rushed," The Witch-Finder says, sounding mildly insulted. "I can give you a full debrief in the morning,"

Liandra raises her hand, as though to say something, but then lets it drop. "Very well. We're being recalled to a FOB, anyway. Sister Ilana, Maria, you can debrief what you heard when we arrive."

"Goodnight, Sisters of Battle. See you upon the dawn," Zayneth says, shoving his way past several uncomfortable looking bronze collared mercenaries.

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

"Enough. We're done," Palais says, nodding her head at Sister Caelia. She snorts under her breath as the man pants in pain and begins to recover. "Sister Eriko, see to his back. We're leaving afterward. Just got word from the Palatine-We're being recalled to a forward operating base."

Click to shrink...

"The Lumenator proved more agreeable than his previous actions had suggested," Erik says as they exit from the room. She speaks freely as their words hidden from prying ears through the use of internal vox systems. "I cannot say I disapprove even if he was overly dramatic for the sake of his present and prospective audience."

They had come what they had come here from and with no resistance when they had expected there to be so. Now, with the monotony of travel looming, her eyes threatened to shut. She needed to sleep and rest her limbs but the Palatine's call promised more action and she was obligated to answer. Or the end of the day, she would only hope a little.

"If I may, Sister-Superior, what are the Palatine's reasons for recalling us so?"

 

[Mina]

"We were about to report you missing, presumed eaten by locals." The younger Sister laughs, giving a tired wave as you approach. She's joking, of course. You reported in. "The Merud Guild has agreed to give you guest rooms, Sir Zayneth."

"You took your time with the interrogation. It's been...Almost five hours," Liandra notes. "You have actionable intelligence?"

"Of course. Duty cannot be rushed," The Witch-Finder says, sounding mildly insulted. "I can give you a full debrief in the morning,"

Liandra raises her hand, as though to say something, but then lets it drop. "Very well. We're being recalled to a FOB, anyway. Sister Ilana, Maria, you can debrief what you heard when we arrive."

"Goodnight, Sisters of Battle. See you upon the dawn," Zayneth says, shoving his way past several uncomfortable looking bronze collared mercenaries.

Click to shrink...

"Rest well Witch Hunter." Maria waited for the ad hoc Inquisitorial force to get out of earshot before looking to her sisters. She liked the man's style, and had learned well enough that no one seemed to like her own.

"Plenty of good work to be done before first light. We've been granted autosenses for a reason, after all. I'd prefer an early start, perhaps after matins."

Even that felt like too much. "I'll just...go get the Viatorem ready Sister Liandra."

 

[Shephard]

"The Lumenator proved more agreeable than his previous actions had suggested," Erik says as they exit from the room. She speaks freely as their words hidden from prying ears through the use of internal vox systems. "I cannot say I disapprove even if he was overly dramatic for the sake of his present and prospective audience."

They had come what they had come here from and with no resistance when they had expected there to be so. Now, with the monotony of travel looming, her eyes threatened to shut. She needed to sleep and rest her limbs but the Palatine's call promised more action and she was obligated to answer. Or the end of the day, she would only hope a little.

"If I may, Sister-Superior, what are the Palatine's reasons for recalling us so?"

Click to shrink...

@greendoor

After Palais gives a short prayer over the panting lay-tech, Eriko tends to his savaged back, disinfecting and binding the bleeding gashes in his pale skin. Then, you make your way out, the crowds of gangers timidly making way before your armored bulk.

Palais taps her fingers against the hilt of her chainsword at Eriko's words. "The Judge for our briefing called him a coward at heart. I'm not sure I believe he's entirely spineless," Palais says as you trudge along the street. Above, the sky has darkened, ugly clouds obscuring the shining moon. The first drizzles of rain begin to splash against your armor. "But at the very least, he didn't have it in him to face us."

"He didn't repent purely for the sake of his soul, that much is clear. But still, I can't say I disapprove either. Through the admittance and chastisement of our faults, we grow closer to the God-Emperor. Perhaps he'll make more of himself than a drunken anarchist, now. At the very least, if his word is good, he'll be out of our hair."

Palais glances back at the other woman's query. A chuckle, rendered hard by her vox-grille, rings out. The Sister-Superior folds her hands against the side of her head, miming a 'sleeping' position. "We've been at this all day. Rest and prayer will be good for the body and soul," She says, glancing toward the darkening sky. "Tomorrow's going to be much less pleasant."

"Rest well Witch Hunter." Maria waited for the ad hoc Inquisitorial force to get out of earshot before looking to her sisters. She liked the man's style, and had learned well enough that no one seemed to like her own.

"Plenty of good work to be done before first light. We've been granted autosenses for a reason, after all. I'd prefer an early start, perhaps after matins."

Even that felt like too much. "I'll just...go get the Viatorem ready Sister Liandra."

Click to shrink...

@SirLagginton
The Witch-Finder waves a finely manicured hand back as he strides past the bronze collared mercenaries. "You as well, Sister of Battle."

Sister Liandra nods her head in agreement with Maria's assessment as you begin to make your way toward where the Viatorem awaits. Above, the moonlight has begun to disappear as only slivers of silver moonlight make it through a darkening sky. The first droplets of rain begin to splash against the street and your armor, a slow and unsteady trickle, but you have no doubt that tomorrow will herald much worse.

"We will see what the Palatine commands. I have no doubt Rathitta will grant the heretic no rest and no respite," Liandra says.

---

@greendoor @SirLagginton @Mina @Zeitgeist Blue
After your groups rendezvous, you mount up together on the Viatorem once more. Your arrival at the Order's temporary headquarters within the Little Cog district is complicated only by the winding, byzantine structure of the city streets. Distant tracers and gunfire light up the darkening night, but you draw little attention yourselves.

A Sanctum Imperialis, a grand temple of the Imperial Creed appears out of the gloom. Chunks of exposed understructure and the blackened smudges of fire damage are visible along its rockcrete walls, long lengths of scaffolds wrapping around the structure. Yet, the cracked gargoyles and weather worn iconography of the Imperial Cult maintain a sense of nobility that belies the crumbling exterior, the whole building haloed by flickering lumen-globes.

Small patrols of Sororitas loop around the courtyard surrounding the old shrine, others of your Order guiding purity-seal draped servitors in erecting barricades and fighting positions, reinforcing long lines of barbed wire topped fences that, judging by the signs, belonged to the construction guild that was repairing the sanctum. You are directed by a pair of Sororitas past a row of empty pre-fab civilian barracks to an attached garage, where you dismount. Outside the light of the garage, darkness swallows the district. In the space of a blink, a liquid curtain falls over the city, the line of rain lancing down at the edge of the garage entrance so thick and heavy it seems an almost solid presence. Visibility, even with autosenses, is cut in half in an instant. Palais mumbles her hatred of the planet under her breath. A nearby Sororitas cocks her head at the sight, stunned for several moments, before she turns back to you.

"Uhm, right. Sisters, head through decon to the debriefing room. You've been given quarters on the third floor, where some of the Deacons would usually be staying," She says, slipping you a dataslate with your room numbers listed. "Be aware we're still establishing the perimeter, and we've had a few skirmishes this evening in the surrounding area. So, don't be surprised if you hear gunfire. Also, I'd stay away from the east wing. Apparently it'll be leaking a lot."

The Sister gestures toward an improvised decontamination room where you are sprayed down by servitors and then wiped down by a pair of gasmasked individuals with scrub-brushes. After this, a brief battery of tests is done to ensure you are cleared to proceed. One after another, you are cleared and then directed to a sideroom where you are assisted in removing your armor. All save Sister Pia, who after a brief conversation between a pair of Hospitaller and Sister-Superior Palais, is taken aside. Palais, looking more annoyed than concerned, simply shakes her head at the squads' looks.

After that, it is simply a matter of debriefing. Stripped down to your bodysuits and shield robes, you arrive in what appears to be a small conference room that may have once been used by the local priests for discussion. Dressed down to her robes, Legatine Lethicia stands at the front of the room. Outside of her armor, the bulk of her augmetics is more evident. Every movement brings with it the click and clatter of shifting bionics, her speech underlined by a metallic rasp. She takes a sip from a cup of tea held in a silver hand, motioning at the squad as they take seats before her. "The Palatine is busy discussing matters with Cannoness Jessira. I'll be debriefing you.."

---

Welcome to Dreverarch Complete​

Primary Objective: Clear your assigned zone of all heretic presence and await further orders.
Status: Complete.
Reward: 400 experience. 1 Renown point.


"The resistance offered by these heretics is beyond what we had expected. If your accounts-and that of Squads Derosa and Selveria-Are correct, then the ambush on the highway was well coordinated and prepared. Our interrogation of the Witchspawn Sister Ilana captured is ongoing, but he appears to be one of the psykers who escaped the Iron Cages during the cult's attack. From what we've found, if it wasn't for your intervention, the witch would've tried instigating a war between the civilians upon the bridge, and with us in the middle. Surely, the Emperor guided your hand."

"The creatures faced at the courtyards, by your description, appear to have been some lesser form of daemonhost," The woman makes the sign of the aquila at that. "No match for the Sisters of Battle, but nonetheless, a formidable foe. That the cult her has the capability of creating so many of these creatures is of grave concern, as was the warp anomaly you reported at the fountain itself. That you defeated them with such light injuries is a sign of the Emperor's protection, particular with you having spread yourselves thin. Next time, you may not be so blessed," The Legatine warns. Palais nods her head at the chastisement.

"I advise extensive prayer tonight, after evening supper." The Legatine pauses for a long moment. "Another thing, though. The lasguns that Ollanius figure reported the cultists were smuggling-They're Astra Militarum grade. Mars Pattern III Short Lasguns, frequently used by Velorum auxiliary regiments. The makers' marks were removed, so we're not sure where they came from, but we've heard accounts of limited amounts of military grade weaponry among other elements of the cult. Several of the cultists we've captured also seem to not be native to the city. We believe them to native to the outlying clans within the swamp lands, particularly ones that have been resisting Imperial efforts to civilize them. We're not sure how they're getting into the city, but these are professional warriors and veterans. Not the civilian scraps you've been mostly fighting."

Lethicia shifts stiffly, resting a hand on the table. There's a momentary pause as you see her lips tighten in pain, but then it passes. "I don't need to tell you that veteran guerillas and military equipment can make a dangerous combination. Do not grow complacent."

Secondary Objective 1: Quell Civil Unrest
Status: Complete. 3/3 Rioter leaders needed appeased.
Reward: 200 experience.

"We've received word from the Adeptus Arbites that rioting along the quarantine lines have lessened, and several groups have offered their assistance to the Order, including Pater Tibim and his congregation, and several 'neighborhood watch' groups," Lethicia says, taking a sip from her tea. "They name you as the primary reason for this. All the same, I must admit discomfort at negotiating with scum like that Ollanius. I won't censure you for your actions, but our Palatine wishes you to spend an additional hour tomorrow in prayer. I concur with her."

"Kristold's actions are...Curious, but seemingly earnest. Remain alert for treachery from him, and an eye out on other rioting groups. They are still causing havoc around the district."

Secondary Objective 2: Abhor the Witch
Status: Failed.

"You've gathered information on Eneresh's position. That's enough for now. If your information is credible, I would expect for your squad to be charged with her capture.

Tertiary Objective 1: Looters and pillagers
Status: Failed

"Cannoness Jessira reports one of her squads attempted to track down the looters, but lost them after an ambush by a cult band. I would ask you remain alert for them in the future."

Tertiary Objective 2: Corpse disposal team
Status: Failed

"Thankfully, the sniper seems to have moved on of his own accord after some time. Two of the corpse disposal team had to report to the Hospitaller station though. At least it wasn't worse."

Tertiary Objective 3: Witch-Hunter
Status: Success
Reward: 100 Experience.

"Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth sends his regards, as do his employers within the Ecclesiarchy. Apparently you made quite the impression. Good work, particularly with apprehending that psyker. She's not on any Arbites or Ecclesiarchy records, so they don't believe she was an escapee like Eneresh, but still. A rogue psyker, particularly one gathering a cult like that...It is a good thing we caught her before she could become a problem. A pity the apostate got away. You say a barrier of shadow appeared around him? Curious."

She rubs her chin in thought at that for several moments. "I'll speak with the Palatine about this."

Additional: Rescued Civilian Hostage
Sirlagginton: Renown +1.

Lethica's gaze turns toward Illana, and she motions her cup at the woman. "Sister, I wanted to note you in particular. During the attack in which you silenced a false prophet, a cultist took a civilian prisoner in an attempt to escape your judgement. You resolved that situation exemplarily, without allowing one of the Emperor's citizens to come to harm. I am sure Saint Leanna is smiling down upon you."

"In any case, unless you have questions, you're dismissed-Except you, Palais. I'd like to speak to you for a few moments."​

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

@greendoor

After Palais gives a short prayer over the panting lay-tech, Eriko tends to his savaged back, disinfecting and binding the bleeding gashes in his pale skin. Then, you make your way out, the crowds of gangers timidly making way before your armored bulk.

Palais taps her fingers against the hilt of her chainsword at Eriko's words. "The Judge for our briefing called him a coward at heart. I'm not sure I believe he's entirely spineless," Palais says as you trudge along the street. Above, the sky has darkened, ugly clouds obscuring the shining moon. The first drizzles of rain begin to splash against your armor. "But at the very least, he didn't have it in him to face us."

"He didn't repent purely for the sake of his soul, that much is clear. But still, I can't say I disapprove either. Through the admittance and chastisement of our faults, we grow closer to the God-Emperor. Perhaps he'll make more of himself than a drunken anarchist, now. At the very least, if his word is good, he'll be out of our hair."

Palais glances back at the other woman's query. A chuckle, rendered hard by her vox-grille, rings out. The Sister-Superior folds her hands against the side of her head, miming a 'sleeping' position. "We've been at this all day. Rest and prayer will be good for the body and soul," She says, glancing toward the darkening sky. "Tomorrow's going to be much less pleasant."

Click to shrink...

Eriko barely manages to suppress a groan. Not because she dreaded what tomorrow would bring, her Sister-Superior's premonitions or no, but because she could imagine herself falling into her bed and falling asleep before she hit the cushion. It was equal parts maddening and tempting to end her day like so. Still, the Palatine had recalled the day forces back and the end of day rituals as of yet had to be accomplished.

It was enough to make the Sister whisper a short prayer to endure the following hours.

@greendoor @SirLagginton @Mina @Zeitgeist Blue
After your groups rendezvous, you mount up together on the Viatorem once more. Your arrival at the Order's temporary headquarters within the Little Cog district is complicated only by the winding, byzantine structure of the city streets. Distant tracers and gunfire light up the darkening night, but you draw little attention yourselves.

A Sanctum Imperialis, a grand temple of the Imperial Creed appears out of the gloom. Chunks of exposed understructure and the blackened smudges of fire damage are visible along its rockcrete walls, long lengths of scaffolds wrapping around the structure. Yet, the cracked gargoyles and weather worn iconography of the Imperial Cult maintain a sense of nobility that belies the crumbling exterior, the whole building haloed by flickering lumen-globes.

Small patrols of Sororitas loop around the courtyard surrounding the old shrine, others of your Order guiding purity-seal draped servitors in erecting barricades and fighting positions, reinforcing long lines of barbed wire topped fences that, judging by the signs, belonged to the construction guild that was repairing the sanctum. You are directed by a pair of Sororitas past a row of empty pre-fab civilian barracks to an attached garage, where you dismount. Outside the light of the garage, darkness swallows the district. In the space of a blink, a liquid curtain falls over the city, the line of rain lancing down at the edge of the garage entrance so thick and heavy it seems an almost solid presence. Visibility, even with autosenses, is cut in half in an instant. Palais mumbles her hatred of the planet under her breath. A nearby Sororitas cocks her head at the sight, stunned for several moments, before she turns back to you.

"Uhm, right. Sisters, head through decon to the debriefing room. You've been given quarters on the third floor, where some of the Deacons would usually be staying," She says, slipping you a dataslate with your room numbers listed. "Be aware we're still establishing the perimeter, and we've had a few skirmishes this evening in the surrounding area. So, don't be surprised if you hear gunfire. Also, I'd stay away from the east wing. Apparently it'll be leaking a lot."

The Sister gestures toward an improvised decontamination room where you are sprayed down by servitors and then wiped down by a pair of gasmasked individuals with scrub-brushes. After this, a brief battery of tests is done to ensure you are cleared to proceed. One after another, you are cleared and then directed to a sideroom where you are assisted in removing your armor. All save Sister Pia, who after a brief conversation between a pair of Hospitaller and Sister-Superior Palais, is taken aside. Palais, looking more annoyed than concerned, simply shakes her head at the squads' looks.

After that, it is simply a matter of debriefing. Stripped down to your bodysuits and shield robes, you arrive in what appears to be a small conference room that may have once been used by the local priests for discussion. Dressed down to her robes, Legatine Lethicia stands at the front of the room. Outside of her armor, the bulk of her augmetics is more evident. Every movement brings with it the click and clatter of shifting bionics, her speech underlined by a metallic rasp. She takes a sip from a cup of tea held in a silver hand, motioning at the squad as they take seats before her. "The Palatine is busy discussing matters with Cannoness Jessira. I'll be debriefing you.."

Click to shrink...

This debriefing would be under a relaxed atmosphere then.

At the Legatine's invitation Eriko sat, accompanied by the sound of scraping chairs as her Sisters followed suit. The bodysuit and robes she wore fit her well and provided a stark and flowing contrast to the rigidity of the Storm of Summer, a feeling that she was grateful for in the moment. There was a laxness to the clothes, to the Legatine sipping her cup of tea, and she understood how the atmosphere could bring calm unto a Sister's energies.

Her red-dyed brows furrowed as she leaned forward and looked around. The Sisters of Palais' demi-squad occupied the other seats and all of them were tired, she could tell, harried from the day's ordeals yet they all sat proper, as soldiers and Sororitas should. With a nod of approval, she turned her attention to the Legatine.

Not too relaxed then. They were under the auspices of a superior after all.

Welcome to Dreverarch Complete​

Primary Objective: Clear your assigned zone of all heretic presence and await further orders.
Status: Complete.
Reward: 400 experience. 1 Renown point.


"The resistance offered by these heretics is beyond what we had expected. If your accounts-and that of Squads Derosa and Selveria-Are correct, then the ambush on the highway was well coordinated and prepared. Our interrogation of the Witchspawn Sister Ilana captured is ongoing, but he appears to be one of the psykers who escaped the Iron Cages during the cult's attack. From what we've found, if it wasn't for your intervention, the witch would've tried instigating a war between the civilians upon the bridge, and with us in the middle. Surely, the Emperor guided your hand."

"The creatures faced at the courtyards, by your description, appear to have been some lesser form of daemonhost," The woman makes the sign of the aquila at that. "No match for the Sisters of Battle, but nonetheless, a formidable foe. That the cult her has the capability of creating so many of these creatures is of grave concern, as was the warp anomaly you reported at the fountain itself. That you defeated them with such light injuries is a sign of the Emperor's protection, particular with you having spread yourselves thin. Next time, you may not be so blessed," The Legatine warns. Palais nods her head at the chastisement.

"I advise extensive prayer tonight, after evening supper." The Legatine pauses for a long moment. "Another thing, though. The lasguns that Ollanius figure reported the cultists were smuggling-They're Astra Militarum grade. Mars Pattern III Short Lasguns, frequently used by Velorum auxiliary regiments. The makers' marks were removed, so we're not sure where they came from, but we've heard accounts of limited amounts of military grade weaponry among other elements of the cult. Several of the cultists we've captured also seem to not be native to the city. We believe them to native to the outlying clans within the swamp lands, particularly ones that have been resisting Imperial efforts to civilize them. We're not sure how they're getting into the city, but these are professional warriors and veterans. Not the civilian scraps you've been mostly fighting."

Lethicia shifts stiffly, resting a hand on the table. There's a momentary pause as you see her lips tighten in pain, but then it passes. "I don't need to tell you that veteran guerillas and military equipment can make a dangerous combination. Do not grow complacent."​

Secondary Objective 1: Quell Civil Unrest
Status: Complete. 3/3 Rioter leaders needed appeased.
Reward: 200 experience.

"We've received word from the Adeptus Arbites that rioting along the quarantine lines have lessened, and several groups have offered their assistance to the Order, including Pater Tibim and his congregation, and several 'neighborhood watch' groups," Lethicia says, taking a sip from her tea. "They name you as the primary reason for this. All the same, I must admit discomfort at negotiating with scum like that Ollanius. I won't censure you for your actions, but our Palatine wishes you to spend an additional hour tomorrow in prayer. I concur with her."

"Kristold's actions are...Curious, but seemingly earnest. Remain alert for treachery from him, and an eye out on other rioting groups. They are still causing havoc around the district."

Click to shrink...

She was expecting these additional prayers and so she was not disappointed as the Legatine prescribed them. On the contrary, she understood their benefits and welcomed them even if she would have to fight hard from nodding off in the chapel.

"It is my hope that having turned a majority of the figureheads in the district's scene that the rest would be pressured into standing down or to cooperate," she spoke up, still seated in her place. "Additional assistance, even if merely information, would be most welcome as well and I am sure that taken together they have a wealth of gossip and rumors and intel that they would be willing to share. Hopefully enough of those could be used on leads to important objectives."

Secondary Objective 2: Abhor the Witch
Status: Failed.

"You've gathered information on Eneresh's position. That's enough for now. If your information is credible, I would expect for your squad to be charged with her capture.

Tertiary Objective 1: Looters and pillagers
Status: Failed

"Cannoness Jessira reports one of her squads attempted to track down the looters, but lost them after an ambush by a cult band. I would ask you remain alert for them in the future."

Tertiary Objective 2: Corpse disposal team
Status: Failed

"Thankfully, the sniper seems to have moved on of his own accord after some time. Two of the corpse disposal team had to report to the Hospitaller station though. At least it wasn't worse."

Click to shrink...

Eriko accepted the failed objectives with nothing more than a nod to show she followed the debriefing. Far be it for the Mission to expect them to complete all the stated objectives in as little a time as they had. There were still days and weeks for them to follow up on potential leads and no doubt these figures would show themselves once again. It was in their nature to continue for the rioting would not die down overnight.

Tertiary Objective 3: Witch-Hunter
Status: Success
Reward: 100 Experience.

"Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth sends his regards, as do his employers within the Ecclesiarchy. Apparently you made quite the impression. Good work, particularly with apprehending that psyker. She's not on any Arbites or Ecclesiarchy records, so they don't believe she was an escapee like Eneresh, but still. A rogue psyker, particularly one gathering a cult like that...It is a good thing we caught her before she could become a problem. A pity the apostate got away. You say a barrier of shadow appeared around him? Curious."

She rubs her chin in thought at that for several moments. "I'll speak with the Palatine about this."

Additional: Rescued Civilian Hostage
Sirlagginton: Renown +1.

Lethica's gaze turns toward Illana, and she motions her cup at the woman. "Sister, I wanted to note you in particular. During the attack in which you silenced a false prophet, a cultist took a civilian prisoner in an attempt to escape your judgement. You resolved that situation exemplarily, without allowing one of the Emperor's citizens to come to harm. I am sure Saint Leanna is smiling down upon you."

"In any case, unless you have questions, you're dismissed-Except you, Palais. I'd like to speak to you for a few moments."

Click to shrink...

With the Legatine's dismissal the debriefing finished and Eriko stood from her seat, quickly stepping outside before the rest of her Sisters could. There she waited for Ilana to exit the doorway and when the said Sister came, Eriko hailed her a wave of her arm.

Out of their armours, the top of the younger woman's head could not even reach the tip of Eriko's chin. Yet Ilana was beautiful, perhaps because she was even paler than the noble, who was quite pale herself. And Eriko was from En'Kyui, where the fairness of a woman's skin often equaled her beauty, where the nobles who had the riches and the means would compete over who had the fairest daughters among themselves.

@SirLagginton
"A word, if you please, Sister."

Eriko steps into a sidehall, where they would be given a semblance of privacy. She rubbed at her forehead as the headache she had been nursing through the debrief grew suddenly. She pushed through it and looked straight at Ilana.

"I would seek to congratulate you and... to seek amends." The older Sister begins, clearly hesitating as she forms her words. She looks up as a Sister passes them by then turns to Ilana again. Then she draws herself up, taller, prouder, as her words become more solid. "I had once pegged you as currently too soft of heart to stand the trials that a Sororitas would face in the field. I see now that I was wrong. Your meekness belies a heart as righteous as steel. The Mission recognizes this, and so now do I."

 

[greendoor]

After Palais gives a short prayer over the panting lay-tech, Eriko tends to his savaged back, disinfecting and binding the bleeding gashes in his pale skin. Then, you make your way out, the crowds of gangers timidly making way before your armored bulk.

Palais taps her fingers against the hilt of her chainsword at Eriko's words. "The Judge for our briefing called him a coward at heart. I'm not sure I believe he's entirely spineless," Palais says as you trudge along the street. Above, the sky has darkened, ugly clouds obscuring the shining moon. The first drizzles of rain begin to splash against your armor. "But at the very least, he didn't have it in him to face us."

"He didn't repent purely for the sake of his soul, that much is clear. But still, I can't say I disapprove either. Through the admittance and chastisement of our faults, we grow closer to the God-Emperor. Perhaps he'll make more of himself than a drunken anarchist, now. At the very least, if his word is good, he'll be out of our hair."

Palais glances back at the other woman's query. A chuckle, rendered hard by her vox-grille, rings out. The Sister-Superior folds her hands against the side of her head, miming a 'sleeping' position. "We've been at this all day. Rest and prayer will be good for the body and soul," She says, glancing toward the darkening sky. "Tomorrow's going to be much less pleasant."

Click to shrink...

"At the very least, he stood stronger under the lash than many would." Caelia states. "I slashed him as hard as I could and he barely flinched." The battlesister sounds vaguely impressed.

She nearly stops for a moment at that last statement. "I don't know Sister Superior, today was very Unpleasant."

"Uhm, right. Sisters, head through decon to the debriefing room. You've been given quarters on the third floor, where some of the Deacons would usually be staying," She says, slipping you a dataslate with your room numbers listed. "Be aware we're still establishing the perimeter, and we've had a few skirmishes this evening in the surrounding area. So, don't be surprised if you hear gunfire. Also, I'd stay away from the east wing. Apparently it'll be leaking a lot."

The Sister gestures toward an improvised decontamination room where you are sprayed down by servitors and then wiped down by a pair of gasmasked individuals with scrub-brushes. After this, a brief battery of tests is done to ensure you are cleared to proceed. One after another, you are cleared and then directed to a sideroom where you are assisted in removing your armor. All save Sister Pia, who after a brief conversation between a pair of Hospitaller and Sister-Superior Palais, is taken aside. Palais, looking more annoyed than concerned, simply shakes her head at the squads' looks.

Click to shrink...

Caelia shakes her head as well. She had hoped to get to know Pia better, but now she would not get the chance. She hoped the Sister recovered soon-both for her sake and Velorum's reputation.

Primary Objective: Clear your assigned zone of all heretic presence and await further orders.
Status: Complete.
Reward: 400 experience. 1 Renown point.


"The resistance offered by these heretics is beyond what we had expected. If your accounts-and that of Squads Derosa and Selveria-Are correct, then the ambush on the highway was well coordinated and prepared. Our interrogation of the Witchspawn Sister Ilana captured is ongoing, but he appears to be one of the psykers who escaped the Iron Cages during the cult's attack. From what we've found, if it wasn't for your intervention, the witch would've tried instigating a war between the civilians upon the bridge, and with us in the middle. Surely, the Emperor guided your hand."

"The creatures faced at the courtyards, by your description, appear to have been some lesser form of daemonhost," The woman makes the sign of the aquila at that. "No match for the Sisters of Battle, but nonetheless, a formidable foe. That the cult her has the capability of creating so many of these creatures is of grave concern, as was the warp anomaly you reported at the fountain itself. That you defeated them with such light injuries is a sign of the Emperor's protection, particular with you having spread yourselves thin. Next time, you may not be so blessed," The Legatine warns. Palais nods her head at the chastisement.

"I advise extensive prayer tonight, after evening supper." The Legatine pauses for a long moment. "Another thing, though. The lasguns that Ollanius figure reported the cultists were smuggling-They're Astra Militarum grade. Mars Pattern III Short Lasguns, frequently used by Velorum auxiliary regiments. The makers' marks were removed, so we're not sure where they came from, but we've heard accounts of limited amounts of military grade weaponry among other elements of the cult. Several of the cultists we've captured also seem to not be native to the city. We believe them to native to the outlying clans within the swamp lands, particularly ones that have been resisting Imperial efforts to civilize them. We're not sure how they're getting into the city, but these are professional warriors and veterans. Not the civilian scraps you've been mostly fighting."

Lethicia shifts stiffly, resting a hand on the table. There's a momentary pause as you see her lips tighten in pain, but then it passes. "I don't need to tell you that veteran guerillas and military equipment can make a dangerous combination. Do not grow complacent."

Click to shrink...

"Can we expect more heavy weapons? Lasguns are not much worse than the rifles and other civilian weapons we have already faced." Caelia asks. She scowled at the mention of her homeworld-if a manufacturer from home had turned traitor...

Secondary Objective 2: Abhor the Witch
Status: Failed.

"You've gathered information on Eneresh's position. That's enough for now. If your information is credible, I would expect for your squad to be charged with her capture.

Tertiary Objective 1: Looters and pillagers
Status: Failed

"Cannoness Jessira reports one of her squads attempted to track down the looters, but lost them after an ambush by a cult band. I would ask you remain alert for them in the future."

Tertiary Objective 2: Corpse disposal team
Status: Failed

"Thankfully, the sniper seems to have moved on of his own accord after some time. Two of the corpse disposal team had to report to the Hospitaller station though. At least it wasn't worse."

Click to shrink...

Caelia resisted the urge to shrug at the failed objectives. A sniper hunting corpse disposal teams and looters was important yes, but less so than dealing with the cult proper, or the riots as a root cause.

"In any case, unless you have questions, you're dismissed-Except you, Palais. I'd like to speak to you for a few moments."

Click to shrink...

Caelia is amongst the first to get up-not because she had no patience for the briefing, but because she was looking forward to prayer and sleep. It had been a long day.
​

 

[SirLagginton]

The Sister gestures toward an improvised decontamination room where you are sprayed down by servitors and then wiped down by a pair of gasmasked individuals with scrub-brushes. After this, a brief battery of tests is done to ensure you are cleared to proceed. One after another, you are cleared and then directed to a sideroom where you are assisted in removing your armor. All save Sister Pia, who after a brief conversation between a pair of Hospitaller and Sister-Superior Palais, is taken aside. Palais, looking more annoyed than concerned, simply shakes her head at the squads' looks.

Click to shrink...

Ilana grimaced and made the sign of the aquila, along with a whispered prayer for Him on Terra to guide Pia through her trial. She had only heard of what the other fireteam had encountered in that plaza in vague terms, yet the very mention of the unholiness of the daemonic was enough to assure her of the severity of the encounter. That their new comrade would be lost so soon was regrettable, and she acknowledged as well the inherent selfishness of her feelings, that despite the hand of fate being the domain of the Emperor alone she hoped nonetheless for Pia to make a swift recovery.

"The resistance offered by these heretics is beyond what we had expected. If your accounts-and that of Squads Derosa and Selveria-Are correct, then the ambush on the highway was well coordinated and prepared. Our interrogation of the Witchspawn Sister Ilana captured is ongoing, but he appears to be one of the psykers who escaped the Iron Cages during the cult's attack. From what we've found, if it wasn't for your intervention, the witch would've tried instigating a war between the civilians upon the bridge, and with us in the middle. Surely, the Emperor guided your hand."

Click to shrink...

Ilana's eyes narrowed at the mention of the witch, but quickly inclined her head in acknowledgement. "I give thanks to His Providence that led me to discover the treachery of the warpspawn and its allies before it was too late. And pray that those who had their minds so unjustly violated would find peace in this life or the next. Too violate other souls so..." She nearly spat the next words. "I take heart in the knowledge that the interrogators are treating its case with all due... Gravity."

Secondary Objective 2: Abhor the Witch
Status: Failed.

"You've gathered information on Eneresh's position. That's enough for now. If your information is credible, I would expect for your squad to be charged with her capture.

Click to shrink...

So too Ilana knew was a reckoning with Eneresh, just as there had been one with her colleague at the highway. And if not her, then some other enforcer of His authority.

Lethica's gaze turns toward Illana, and she motions her cup at the woman. "Sister, I wanted to note you in particular. During the attack in which you silenced a false prophet, a cultist took a civilian prisoner in an attempt to escape your judgement. You resolved that situation exemplarily, without allowing one of the Emperor's citizens to come to harm. I am sure Saint Leanna is smiling down upon you."

Click to shrink...

"I am only relieved that I could prevent another of the Emperor's Flock from being lost at the hand of the Archenemy. Nonetheless I am gladdened for your words, and I merely hope the opportunity to further myself in the esteem of my Sisters through the guidance of the Saint and through her the God-Emperor."

With the Legatine's dismissal the debriefing finished and Eriko stood from her seat, quickly stepping outside before the rest of her Sisters could. There she waited for Ilana to exit the doorway and when the said Sister came, Eriko hailed her a wave of her arm.

Out of their armours, the top of the younger woman's head could not even reach the tip of Eriko's chin. Yet Ilana was beautiful, perhaps because she was even paler than the noble, who was quite pale herself. And Eriko was from En'Kyui, where the fairness of a woman's skin often equaled her beauty, where the nobles who had the riches and the means would compete over who had the fairest daughters among themselves.

@SirLagginton
"A word, if you please, Sister."

Eriko steps into a sidehall, where they would be given a semblance of privacy. She rubbed at her forehead as the headache she had been nursing through the debrief grew suddenly. She pushed through it and looked straight at Ilana.

"I would seek to congratulate you and... to seek amends." The older Sister begins, clearly hesitating as she forms her words. She looks up as a Sister passes them by then turns to Ilana again. Then she draws herself up, taller, prouder, as her words become more solid. "I had once pegged you as currently too soft of heart to stand the trials that a Sororitas would face in the field. I see now that I was wrong. Your meekness belies a heart as righteous as steel. The Mission recognizes this, and so now do I."

Click to shrink...

For a slip second, Ilana hesitated as she gauged the unexpected admission by her Sister. By now it was no secret among the squad that some, most notably Sister Maria, thought little of her seeming arrogance. And it was by her own admission she had thought little of Ilana, an insult to not only her person, but also to Drill Abbot Freihart and Sister-Superior Riela, who had overseen her induction into the holy order as a neophyte. It was a special arrogance indeed to have held so little trust in comrades.

Yet...

Yet Ilana could acknowledge the grace needed to recognize one's own mistakes and to ask forgiveness. Though she expected all of His daughters to possess such inner strength, she knew that regardless it was not an easy thing to do. She looked at the taller En'Kyui noble's sharp features, which she would muse to herself later was an almost startling reflection of her personality, and replied. "I accept your apology. I understand that some may hold... Reservations of my relatively untested status among the holy sisters, yet I am glad to have convinced you of my sincerity of following the example set by Saint Leanna no matter what trials await me. It was the Emperor's Providence however that have ultimately led to the deeds that may have had a hand in your turn of opinion, and I can only pray that he continues to bless me so in the trials ahead."

 

[Mina]

"Uhm, right. Sisters, head through decon to the debriefing room. You've been given quarters on the third floor, where some of the Deacons would usually be staying," She says, slipping you a dataslate with your room numbers listed. "Be aware we're still establishing the perimeter, and we've had a few skirmishes this evening in the surrounding area. So, don't be surprised if you hear gunfire. Also, I'd stay away from the east wing. Apparently it'll be leaking a lot."

The Sister gestures toward an improvised decontamination room where you are sprayed down by servitors and then wiped down by a pair of gasmasked individuals with scrub-brushes. After this, a brief battery of tests is done to ensure you are cleared to proceed. One after another, you are cleared and then directed to a sideroom where you are assisted in removing your armor. All save Sister Pia, who after a brief conversation between a pair of Hospitaller and Sister-Superior Palais, is taken aside. Palais, looking more annoyed than concerned, simply shakes her head at the squads' looks.

After that, it is simply a matter of debriefing. Stripped down to your bodysuits and shield robes, you arrive in what appears to be a small conference room that may have once been used by the local priests for discussion. Dressed down to her robes, Legatine Lethicia stands at the front of the room. Outside of her armor, the bulk of her augmetics is more evident. Every movement brings with it the click and clatter of shifting bionics, her speech underlined by a metallic rasp. She takes a sip from a cup of tea held in a silver hand, motioning at the squad as they take seats before her. "The Palatine is busy discussing matters with Cannoness Jessira. I'll be debriefing you.."

Click to shrink...

Maria waited patiently as she was tested an eventually cleared. Despite the rapid response of her armor's spirits to the breach by the swamp thing there was always a sliver of concern. Once freed from the protective bulk and motive assistance of Indomitable she did her best to do her drill abbots proud, shoulders back, head up, ignoring the bruises on her chest, leg, and the still biting pressure of the cilice. One foot in front of the other, no real time or energy to respond to Pia's departure. She'd seemed adequate, but then they'd hardly spent time together.

She eased herself down in to one of the offered seats, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to try and clear the sigils and alert runes burned in to the corners of her vision. Prayer and bed would do her good.

"I advise extensive prayer tonight, after evening supper." The Legatine pauses for a long moment. "Another thing, though. The lasguns that Ollanius figure reported the cultists were smuggling-They're Astra Militarum grade. Mars Pattern III Short Lasguns, frequently used by Velorum auxiliary regiments. The makers' marks were removed, so we're not sure where they came from, but we've heard accounts of limited amounts of military grade weaponry among other elements of the cult. Several of the cultists we've captured also seem to not be native to the city. We believe them to native to the outlying clans within the swamp lands, particularly ones that have been resisting Imperial efforts to civilize them. We're not sure how they're getting into the city, but these are professional warriors and veterans. Not the civilian scraps you've been mostly fighting."

Lethicia shifts stiffly, resting a hand on the table. There's a momentary pause as you see her lips tighten in pain, but then it passes. "I don't need to tell you that veteran guerillas and military equipment can make a dangerous combination. Do not grow complacent."

Click to shrink...

"Squad Ophania reported the destruction of a heretic IED factory, and we encountered heavy ordinance en route to the market, along with foot-mobile variants." Her mind started to blank when it came to the end, the question part. "Have...any other depots or workshops been located or neutralized?"

"We've received word from the Adeptus Arbites that rioting along the quarantine lines have lessened, and several groups have offered their assistance to the Order, including Pater Tibim and his congregation, and several 'neighborhood watch' groups," Lethicia says, taking a sip from her tea. "They name you as the primary reason for this. All the same, I must admit discomfort at negotiating with scum like that Ollanius. I won't censure you for your actions, but our Palatine wishes you to spend an additional hour tomorrow in prayer. I concur with her."

"Kristold's actions are...Curious, but seemingly earnest. Remain alert for treachery from him, and an eye out on other rioting groups. They are still causing havoc around the district."

"You've gathered information on Eneresh's position. That's enough for now. If your information is credible, I would expect for your squad to be charged with her capture.

Click to shrink...

"Considering the intelligence from Pater Tibim and the abhuman Eriente led us to making the connection between the witch Eneresh and the Vennedes faction, should we consider the anarchists lost to His light, rather than just secular rebels? If the information is credible, of course legatine."

"Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth sends his regards, as do his employers within the Ecclesiarchy. Apparently you made quite the impression. Good work, particularly with apprehending that psyker. She's not on any Arbites or Ecclesiarchy records, so they don't believe she was an escapee like Eneresh, but still. A rogue psyker, particularly one gathering a cult like that...It is a good thing we caught her before she could become a problem. A pity the apostate got away. You say a barrier of shadow appeared around him? Curious."

She rubs her chin in thought at that for several moments. "I'll speak with the Palatine about this."

Click to shrink...

Maria's mouth flattened in to a hard line. Her thumbnail bit in to the flesh of her balled fist. That arrogant, sneering filth. She would rend his shadows to pieces if they crossed paths again, expose him, destroy him, and collapse the warrens of his people upon their unfaithful heads.

"In any case, unless you have questions, you're dismissed-Except you, Palais. I'd like to speak to you for a few moments."

Click to shrink...

There was nothing left after her others, so she departed with the others, heading more or less directly to prayer.

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

For a slip second, Ilana hesitated as she gauged the unexpected admission by her Sister. By now it was no secret among the squad that some, most notably Sister Maria, thought little of her seeming arrogance. And it was by her own admission she had thought little of Ilana, an insult to not only her person, but also to Drill Abbot Freihart and Sister-Superior Riela, who had overseen her induction into the holy order as a neophyte. It was a special arrogance indeed to have held so little trust in comrades.

Yet...

Yet Ilana could acknowledge the grace needed to recognize one's own mistakes and to ask forgiveness. Though she expected all of His daughters to possess such inner strength, she knew that regardless it was not an easy thing to do. She looked at the taller En'Kyui noble's sharp features, which she would muse to herself later was an almost startling reflection of her personality, and replied. "I accept your apology. I understand that some may hold... Reservations of my relatively untested status among the holy sisters, yet I am glad to have convinced you of my sincerity of following the example set by Saint Leanna no matter what trials await me. It was the Emperor's Providence however that have ultimately led to deeds that may have had a hand in your turn of opinion, and I can only pray that he continues to bless me so in the trials ahead."

Click to shrink...

Eriko nods in understanding as Ilana tells of what she plans to do. The Emperor's light has guided the younger woman and like the sun it shall continue to guide her onto the horizon.

"And I too shall pray to Saint Leanna that she may guide you on your journey. Mine as well, if truth be told. May she make martyrs of us as she sees fit." Eriko gives Ilana a small sad smile, one that reaches her eyes, and it is perhaps the first time that Ilana had seen her give one as sincere and vulnerable as this. "I and the older sisters do not hold reservations on you and your fellow younger sisters merely to hold reservations, but a woman is forged only in the fires of trial and yet sometimes the iron breaks."

Eriko places her fingers on a scar by the side of her lips. "I know of breaking, to go through that fire, to fail so horribly and yet to live. It is a terrible curse but one I gladly pay penance for. When you will stand at that precipice, daughter of the Great House Laetifica, know that my prayer is with you, whatever the outcome."

 

[SirLagginton]

Eriko nods in understanding as Ilana tells of what she plans to do. The Emperor's light has guided the younger woman and like the sun it shall continue to guide her onto the horizon.

"And I too shall pray to Saint Leanna that she may guide you on your journey. Mine as well, if truth be told. May she make martyrs of us as she sees fit." Eriko gives Ilana a small sad smile, one that reaches her eyes, and it is perhaps the first time that Ilana had seen her give one as sincere and vulnerable as this. "I and the older sisters do not hold reservations on you and your fellow younger sisters merely to hold reservations, but a woman is forged only in the fires of trial and yet sometimes the iron breaks."

Eriko places her fingers on a scar by the side of her lips. "I know of breaking, to go through that fire, to fail so horribly and yet to live. It is a terrible curse but one I gladly pay penance for. When you will stand at that precipice, daughter of the Great House Laetifica, know that my prayer is with you, whatever the outcome."

Click to shrink...

Ilana's eyes widened as she fully realised the nature of Eriko's misconceptions, and then first with a giggle and then a fit, burst out into laughter. To the deaf and blind it may pass for a semblance of normality, yet to an observer close by would be struck by its distorted nature. Her figure which had been relaxed previously was strung up tight, like an instrument that had been wound too hard. Laughter that should have held mirth, came out poisoned with the weight of long held bitterness. And her eyes, ordinarily gleaming like bright amethysts, looked hollow, unaffected by the false smile that painted her lips, hollow except the harsh, sharp light of... of...

Hatred. Burning, agonised hatred. Hatred whose depthless wells could only be the result of something intensely personal.

Ilana's eyes widened at she registered the break in composure, and that glimmering window to the innermost depths of her soul was cut off, as she tore her eyes from Eriko's and cast them to the floor, clutching at her mouth as she struggled to get her hysteria under control.

"Please, forgive me my rudeness." Ilana looked almost angry with herself after viciously strangling down one last strained giggle. She bowed contritely to Eriko. "It was deeply disrespectful to both of us that I have responded so. I assure you that I have taken your words in good faith, and it was certainly not my intention to mock you for your grace. You just took me off... Off-guard." A brief pause, then Ilana shook her head. "I am not as unfamiliar with the crucible of suffering as you seem to believe. It is not an experience I would recommend to any I call Sister." She stood, ignoring that ugly twist in her heart. "If there is nothing else, I must return to my quarters to reflect on my actions."

 

[Shephard]

"At the very least, he stood stronger under the lash than many would." Caelia states. "I slashed him as hard as I could and he barely flinched." The battlesister sounds vaguely impressed.

She nearly stops for a moment at that last statement. "I don't know Sister Superior, today was very Unpleasant."

Click to shrink...

"You had him at his limit, but yes. He was not near as weak a man as I expected," Palais says.

Palais waves a hand to the dark clouds filling the sky overhead. "Tomorrow, it will also be very unpleasant. But it will also be raining."

"Can we expect more heavy weapons? Lasguns are not much worse than the rifles and other civilian weapons we have already faced." Caelia asks. She scowled at the mention of her homeworld-if a manufacturer from home had turned traitor...

Click to shrink...

"Squad Ophania reported the destruction of a heretic IED factory, and we encountered heavy ordinance en route to the market, along with foot-mobile variants." Her mind started to blank when it came to the end, the question part. "Have...any other depots or workshops been located or neutralized?"

Click to shrink...

"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer," Lethicia warns, folding her arms across her chest with a clicking of gears. Still, her words are patient. "I would not like to see you end up like some other Sisters who underestimated the power of a mass lasgun volley. Wouldn't want you to end up looking like me," She waves a bionic arm at that, almost playfully. "But as Sister Maria notes, heavy ordinance has been encountered. Ophania reported what may have been krak charges at an IED factory, though her squad was unable to confirm before the stockpile began detonating. Some other Sisters have reported krak grenades and military grade demo charges like the one that almost got Maria here. There have also been two accounts of anti-tank mines besides yours, though it's unclear if they're from the war with the Choir or more recent. One was in notably poor repair."

The Legatine bows her head at the Retributor at that. "We've found a few arms depots, as well as a gunsmith supplying autoguns, and two other IED factories, one of which was working on what seemed to have been a recovered earthshaker shell. I wouldn't pay much attention to that-Unexploded ordinance has been turning up everywhere since the war with the Choir, and I think we'd have noticed if the cultists had any Basilisks around," She says, smiling in amusement. "Still, if they can smuggle in las-rifles, there's a chance they've gotten in rockets or mortar shells or other ordinance. I'd remain alert."

[Greendoor Lore (War) check. Int 35+10 Skill +40 Test difficulty. TN 85, roll of 75)
Caelia realizes that, whilst Velorum auxiliary units may often use the Mars Pattern III Short lasguns, many worlds produce lasguns of that pattern, and many of them supply Velorum with those weapons just as Dreverarch supplies her homeworld with promethium or the factorum back on Almium Magna did with hydra AA tanks.

"I am only relieved that I could prevent another of the Emperor's Flock from being lost at the hand of the Archenemy. Nonetheless I am gladdened for your words, and I merely hope the opportunity to further myself in the esteem of my Sisters through the guidance of the Saint and through her the God-Emperor."

Click to shrink...

"Your modesty does you credit, Sister Ilana," The Legatine replies.

"Considering the intelligence from Pater Tibim and the abhuman Eriente led us to making the connection between the witch Eneresh and the Vennedes faction, should we consider the anarchists lost to His light, rather than just secular rebels? If the information is credible, of course legatine."

Click to shrink...

Legatine Lethicia takes a slow sip of her recaf at your words, considering them. "Lost to His light? Not yet, no. Mere association with a rogue psyker does not ensure corruption. But it is cause for caution. Eneresh would not be the first psyker to spread the filth of Chaos, the first wyrd to steal others' minds for use as the thralls, or the first witch to corrupt others into worshipping her for her own self-aggrandisement. Be ready to grant them the Emperor's Mercy if need be."

---

The halls of the sanctum are loud with the noise of returning Sororitas squads and shifting equipment. You outnumber the priests and clerks who would have once made this temple home by a great deal, and they were not hauling in crates of ammunition and other supplies, nor establishing fortified checkpoints or patrolling in full warplate. Within the temple, many of the rooms bear signs of brand new construction and paint, freshly installed furniture and lumen globes lighting your way. Other rooms are covered in construction tape and the black scars of an old fire, and along the eastern edge of the building, heavy damage from both the fire and later water damage is evident, chunks of stone peeled away and windows shattered. Here the heaviest concentration of construction equipment is found, though only a few of your Sisters are here, patrolling the desolate east wing as rain drips through cracked rockcrete and broken windows.

Sisters from both your Mission and Cannoness Jessiera's Commandery are here, some still in armor or stripped down to their black bodysuits, others in the flowing shield robes of the Ecclesiarchy. You are tired and hungry, though this is far from the hardest and longest you have ever worked, it has been an eventful day nonetheless. Still, there are several hours before evening prayer and bed rest. After that, you will sleep until you are called to take your shift on night sentry duty.

You receive directions both to your quarters and other areas of interest, and through a mixture of small talk and overhearing other Sisters conversing, hear a few interesting things.

Rumors:
"A few squads from Jessira's Commandery were sent back to the Rise. Apparently there'd been some kind of explosion near the temple district? Isn't the Cult supposed to be stuck in this district?"
-Sister Anna Sudlend Rekanov

"No engagements on our end. Not so much as a shot popped in our direction. I was shocked to hear that the Palatine actually found anything to stab. And Daemons? The most action we got were some gangers that 'found the Emperor' and decided to follow us around. So much yammering. Gave me a headache, which is more than the actual enemy's managed."
-Anonymous Sister.

"We were clearing this cult oustpost in a basement out, when we find this old bomb bunker they've got sealed off. Covered in runes, words of warning, all that. So we call in for some back-up, and open it. The inside was overgrown-Practically a garden, plant growth up to my knees, but nothing to actually fight. Our Superior ordered the room burned to ash and sealed off. Emperor only knows what as in there that frightened the cultists."
-Anonymous Sister from Cannoness Jessira's Commandery.

"I've heard some of the lads talk about Choirmen commandos supporting this whole cult situation. Patrols gone dark in the swamps, outposts deceased, I ain't got a single doubt it's the Choirmen come again. Why, I even think I saw one of them whilst we were following in the Sisters. This is just the first strike in a larger war I'm telling you. Should have burnt out the district, just to be sure."
-Anonymous Dreverarch Defense Force Trooper

Events of Interest (You will probably only have time for one):
-Dinner. The main hall used by the priests has been turned over for use for evening meal. Dinner can be taken elsewhere, but it may be good to simply sit with your Sisters-At-Arms.
-The Chapel. You have evening prayer, of course. But it is not uncommon for Sisters to wish to pray to the God-Emperor for a few hours more. You may also wish to speak with a superior in private, to pray with them.
-The Armory. The Tech-Priests will be tending to and praying to your wargear, as will some of the Sisters wishing to offer thanks to the Machine Spirits for getting them through another day.
-Apparently the sanctum's wine collection was miraculously unharmed by fire or the construction company. Some of the Sisters have taken to offering libations to the God-Emperor, and perhaps partaking in some aqua vitae themselves.
-New Hospitaller attachment. A group of Hospitallers from the Order of Pure Water has arrived to attach themselves to the Mission. Perhaps say 'hi'?

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

Ilana's eyes widened as she fully realised the nature of Eriko's misconceptions, and then first with a giggle and then a fit, burst out into laughter. To the deaf and blind it may pass for a semblance of normality, yet to an observer close by would be struck by its distorted nature. Her figure which had been relaxed previously was strung up tight, like an instrument that had been wound too hard. Laughter that should have held mirth, came out poisoned with the weight of long held bitterness. And her eyes, ordinarily gleaming like bright amethysts, looked hollow, unaffected by the false smile that painted her lips, hollow except the harsh, sharp light of... of...

Hatred. Burning, agonised hatred. Hatred whose depthless wells could only be the result of something intensely personal.

Ilana's eyes widened at she registered the break in composure, and that glimmering window to the innermost depths of her soul was cut off, as she tore her eyes from Eriko's and cast them to the floor, clutching at her mouth as she struggled to get her hysteria under control.

"Please, forgive me my rudeness." Ilana looked almost angry with herself after viciously strangling down one last strained giggle. She bowed contritely to Eriko. "It was deeply disrespectful to both of us that I have responded so. I assure you that I have taken your words in good faith, and it was certainly not my intention to mock you for your grace. You just took me off... Off-guard." A brief pause, then Ilana shook her head. "I am not as unfamiliar with the crucible of suffering as you seem to believe. It is not an experience I would recommend to any I call Sister." She bowed, ignoring that ugly twist in her heart. "If there is nothing else, I must return to my quarters to reflect on my actions."

Click to shrink...

Eriko drew a sharp breath, taken aback by Ilana's outburst.

It was not the reaction the older woman was expecting when she had bared her story and at first anger flashed through her eyes. Ilana had slapped her on the face when she was not expecting one, and so Ilana had caught her off-balance. But her fists balled nonetheless and she composed her features to betray nothing but the icy coldness of space.

"How dare you--" Eriko stopped as she truly noticed Ilana, past her hideous laughter, into her eyes and figure. It did not take a Hospitaller Almoness to see that Ilana's outburst held only the kind of pain that festered inside someone's soul. It had hurt Eriko but to Ilana, that laughter was a heart-wrenching affair. Eriko stopped herself and could only look on with a mixture of concern and confusion, for Eriko did not know what imbalance of humors inflicted Ilana's mind.

It fascinated her, this peek into the inner turmoil of the younger woman, but she knew that Ilana did not mean to bare this much.

"You are forgiven, Sister," Eriko said, her face safely blank as she politely does not ignores what she had just witnessed of Ilana. At Ilana's further explanation, Eriko gave a small shake of her head. "I believe you fully, do not worry, but perhaps this day has indeed wore all of us down to our bones. Prayer and sleep would be the best remedy for those ailments. I bid you goodnight, Sister."

Eriko bows briefly then turns on her heel, leaving Ilana alone. Only when the former Hospitaller walks the halls alone does she remember Ilana's adoption of her mannerisms. Familiar, so much so that Eriko did not notice until after their conversation. It is comforting to know that someone else would humor her idiosyncrasies to such a degree.

-Dinner. The main hall used by the priests has been turned over for use for evening meal. Dinner can be taken elsewhere, but it may be good to simply sit with your Sisters-At-Arms.

Click to shrink...

Dinner, because of course even with her head pounding Eriko must see to take care of her body as well. And at the moment her body is telling her to eat.

She stands in line and soon enough carries her meal, a hearty if simple fare, on a metal tray. With Sisters from both the Mission and Cannoness Jessiera's Commandery space is at a premium. The temple was simply not tasked with housing their number, but the Sisters of the Adepta Sororitas are spartan when need be and can drop unnecessary gear. This practice does not do them much good in the face of communal dinner. The Sisters carry nothing else but their evening fare and the clothes on their backs, yet the hall is bustling with women eating and positioning for seating, which is now at a premium.

Eriko is subject to the same, and she walks around the hall, looking for a place to sit and ready to take it as a hawk its unwitting prey.

 

[SirLagginton]

"You are forgiven, Sister," Eriko said, her face safely blank as she politely does not ignores what she had just witnessed of Ilana. At Ilana's further explanation, Eriko gave a small shake of her head. "I believe you fully, do not worry, but perhaps this day has indeed wore all of us down to our bones. Prayer and sleep would be the best remedy for those ailments. I bid you goodnight, Sister."

Click to shrink...

"Goodnight Sister." Ilana echoed, feeling every second of those first few steps Eriko took down the hallway. She had suffered trials of faith unimaginable to most citizens of the Imperium, to have her faith tested repeatedly under the exacting eye of Abbot Freihart and Sister Riela, to embrace pain as her redemption from the flaws that plagued her mortal spirit. Yet, as she struggled to still her trembling hands and endured how her heart burned under the wake of unfathomable anxiety, she could not recall the last time she felt so brittle in mind.

She tilted her head as she heard the whisper of prayer as she stalked back to her quarters, the hymn of the holy drifting to her from the corridor adjacent. If she recalled correctly that was the main hall of the Sanctum Imperialis, where her fellow sisters still went to pray in His House. She shuddered, the siren call of the privacy of her quarters seeming so distant now. She switched directions, onward to the haunting sound of prayer, where she might at least confess her weakness before the judgement of the Emperor Almighty. She may endure alone in the presence of her sisters, but not Him, never Him. No matter how far she would flee, his light shined in every corner of the galaxy, and she would rather burn in that scathing light than to deny His Divine Mandate.

 

[Mina]

-The Chapel. You have evening prayer, of course. But it is not uncommon for Sisters to wish to pray to the God-Emperor for a few hours more. You may also wish to speak with a superior in private, to pray with them.

Click to shrink...

Maria walked alone to the chapel, having eaten quickly. She took comfort from emptying a heaping plate, proof of a day spent in hard labor, but now was the time for her soul and judgement. The sister-superior wished to speak with her, and it was unlikely to be some quiet moment of praise. The rustle of her robes and pad of footsteps took her back through the events of the day, the good and bad.

She had stopped a heretic bomber.

She had nearly been blown up.​

She faced down an ambush by heretic and abomination.​

She'd killed a young woman.​

She'd taken good care of the Viatorem​

Eriko...
​

Maria sighed, entering the sanctum with none of the usual joy in her heart. It had just been better before the damn hospitaller. She didn't mind almost anything else she'd ever gotten. Being ignored by her sisters, listening to their prattle about noble houses and ancient glories, it didn't matter. There was just the mission, the faith, and the end. It had been this unflappable stoicism that recommended her as a retributor. Privation? Danger? Stress and boredom and uncertainty? She sailed through calm and cool as could be. Geldovans were made to suffer. It was in her bones, but everything about that upjumped newcomer was just skin deep. It was frankly, irritating.

She blinked, cursing herself as she knelt in prayer. Even here the annoyance blossomed. Doing everything she could to clear her mind Maria sank her head in to her clasped hands with a remembrance for Dominica, the nobility of sacrifice for the wider Imperium, and the instructive nature of silent pain.​

 

[greendoor]

-The Chapel. You have evening prayer, of course. But it is not uncommon for Sisters to wish to pray to the God-Emperor for a few hours more. You may also wish to speak with a superior in private, to pray with them.

Click to shrink...

Caelia knelt in prayer in the chapel.

She prayed for strength. Today had been a long day-and the Sister Superior had said tomorrow would be yet worse. She prayed for the strength to endure the next day, and the next, and the next. She prayed for the strength to face the Daemon-for she knew they could be far worse than the creatures she had feared upon the field. Had her ancestors been so scared as her? Had they not, often not armed nor trained so well, triumphed? She could not afford to be weak. Her blood and house demanded it of her, and so did the Emperor.

She hated herself for these doubts-they were a weakness all their own. They came from the same place as the fear, and she detested that fear. She could not afford either of them.

Somewhere else in the chapel she could hear the snap crack of a lash, and a small gasp of pain. It hardly seemed audible over the sound of prayers of other sisters, but it stood out to her. Someone undergoing penance-likely personal. She thought back to Kristold-the man had accepted his pain with admirable strength and clarity. Perhaps that would clear her mind of weakness?

Resolved, she stood up, and turned to find a private side room, and a lash. One that was hopefully not coated in a fellow sister's blood.

That task complete, she knelt, and opened the back of her robe.

"Pain is righteousness entering the body." She said, then brought the whip back across her own back.

She grit her teeth in pain, but did not cry out. That pleased her.

She swung again.

(OOC: Seek personal flagellation)