# Forum > Play-by-Post Games > Ongoing Games (In-Character) >  The Egarian Expedition IC

## Henry the 57th

Rattle. Rattle. A dull thump. The Aquila Lander _Corvus' Claw_ shakes in Egaria Theta's cloudless, windswept atomosphere as it streams downwards towards the landing zone. Yet small in the shuttle's custom armorglass windows but growing larger with every passing second is a sprawling desert fortress camp. Over a kilometer in diameter it holds more than three thousand indentured laborers, soldiers, technoarchaeologists, bondsmen, and servitors, all contained within a series of prefabricated blockhouses, warehouses, and shelters enclosed by a two-meter Aegis-style defensive wall, reinforced by razorwire and gun emplacements. What appear from on high to be tiny indents in the earth are in reality a series of pits, trenches, and exploratory digs both inside and outside the walls, where hundreds of men and machines alike toil for House Ravenholm in the punishing sun and scourging winds, seeking ancient alien treasures in the depths of the earth. The fools.

The wasteful uselessness of their approach is starkly apparent even from hundreds of meters in the sky. For, a mere few hundred meters from the fortified camp's furthest edges lies a titanic maze of stone and crystal visible from space. Hundreds of kilometers across and burying itself deeply into the earth, it is easily the equal of an Imperial hive city in internal space and, more importantly, completely abandoned. Anyone could effortlessly walk inside and help themselves to the treasures of deservedly extinct Egarian xenos, worth fortunes beyond counting through the Cold Trade, to factions within the Mechanicus, or even to certain enlightened indviduals within His Divine Majesty's most holy Inquisition. A cyclopean gate the size of an orbital drop cathedral lies open and completely unguarded, yet as they descend closer and closer the Explorers cannot make out a single hunting party or even a solitary individual anywhere near the inviting portal. Even the side of the fortified camp closest to it appears to be far more lightly populated than the rest. In what absolutely cannot be coincidence but was never mentioned in any of the reports sent back, almost all of the occupied dig sites are on the precise opposite side of the campsite from where the xenos maze-city lies. The cowardly imbeciles down below are literally picking at the dirt in the precise area where they are _least_ likely to find anything of true value.

Even from this height, the passengers feel as though there are countless fortunes lying _just_ out of reach in the depths of that empty alien hive, if only someone here were bold enough to seize them.

The view does not last for very long. Befitting one of the craft in the personal use of Rogue Trader and her inner circle, the _Corvus Claw_ cuts easily through the blustery sky and makes for the camp's prepared landing strip in very good time. Ancient cogs squeal and the air hisses with the sound of equalizing pressure as the pilot smoothly lowers the landing ramp, letting in the earthly odor of sun-baked dirt and the first hints of planetary dust already beginning to coat the shuttle's interior. Not being in the mood for further delays, the Explorers unstrap from their comfortable crash couches and are at the ramp's peak before the lander's engines have even fully shut down.

Before them, lined up nicely on the dusty landing strip as if for a parade ground, stand twin rows of iron-masked soldiers clad in the purple-accented dark grey of House Ravenholm, their standardized flak armor and recolored uniforms betraying origins as former men of the Imperial Guard's 557th Hyzian Linebreakers Infantry Regiment, prior to their reassignment in payment of a Munitorum lord's many debts. The ritualized war cult masks of their homeworld stare unblinkingly as three figures, cloaks swept back by the whipping winds, make their way up the center of the the human corridor. At the center of them, greying black hair slicked back close to his scalp and dressed in what are evidently his best attempt at finery on this isolated dust bowl, is Overseer Tertius var Killenvor, the man charged with overall responsibility for the dig and thus its miserably lacking progress. Formerly the bastard son of a noble line in a distant sector, he opted long for a life in service to the Ravenholm Dynasty over a life of banal brutality enforcing order amongst factorum work gangs which, judging from the sweat rolling down his face and the way he tugs at his gilded collar, he may be coming to regret.

To the Overseer's right is Colonel Silas Hawadat, commanding officer of the Linebreakers force stationed here to the guard the technoarchaeology expedition. Contrasting his immediate superior, the Colonel's dress is barely distinguishable from that of his men, only a few extra golden bars atop his dusty flak armor signifying his rank, while his flat-faced iron mask gives nothing away about his thoughts. To the Overseer's left is Magos Sirin Desnel, the ranking tech-priest among the few that could be found to support this expedition. Her once-maroon robes have been sun-bleached to barely pinkish color and the heavy clawlike mechandendrite bending her spine has notable spots of oily discoloration, but if it bothers her she gives no sign. A heavy steel breathing apparatus has replaced the lower half of her face, and her two dark-ringed organic grey eyes flicker rapidly back and forth between the various new arrivals.

*"My lady,"* Overseer Killenvor bows his head respectfully to the Lady-Captain as the Explorers descend to the base of the lander's ramp, briefly licking the corner of his lips. *"My lords,"* he nods at the other three men accompanying the Rogue Trader, eyes lingering just a moment too long on the hulking giant of a tech-priest before he forces them back towards Lady Ravenholm. *"It is my honor to welcome you for your most... unexpected visit to Egaria Theta. How may I be of service?"*

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## boj0

As she descendeds the landing ramp, Lisette gives a slight gesture and two attendees offer her a parasol and a sip of amsec from an iced glass. She double checks her makeup in an offered mirror then finishes walking to the welcoming party.
With a look of practiced hours of courtly intrigue, the Lady-Captain gives a look of genuine warmth and grace hiding a boiling infuriation at the absolute waste of time and material presented to her.

She gives a look to var Killenvor, " Overseer, it is my pleasure to do my due diligence, embrace my duty and put a personal touch on this _most important endeavor_; however I must apologize, we appear to have caught you at a poor time, have you not finished starting the expedition?" Without missing a beat, she draws a fan and begins fluffing away the dust from her face.

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## DrK

*Krieger Huss*

Krieger leans into the sight glass staring down at the mass of trenches and the camp Krieger snorts in disgust and looks at Lady Lisette. *What a shambles idiots are avoiding the thrice dammed structure.* Pointing to the crystalline gateway he smiles, *Guess well be heading in there my Lady?*

As they land and the ramp opens he rises, dropping the visor of the carapace helm into place. Squinting through the polarised goggles he stomps down the ramp, massive melta cannon held low on its straps scanning for danger. He steps to one side as the Lady comes down the ramp and looks at the ranks of the linebreakers nodding to their master sergeants in a congenial way.

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## Volthawk

Surveying the scene from the lander, Agares shakes his head at Krieger's comments. *"No. It is not idiocy, not incompetence, that drives their actions. It is fear. Observe where they work."* The biomechanical giant waves a robed arm in the direction of the dig sites. *"Yes. They know what is there. They feel it. Fear it. So they hide in holes as far away as they can. Cowering. Perhaps they are the truly wise here."* Yes. Agares knew their feelings well, having felt them himself in the distant past, fragments of fear before he found himself on the course he is now. He laughs, a strange, grinding mechanical laugh. *"They will have to be convinced to be of use. Through inspiration, perhaps, or...yes, more likely a yet greater fear. Either way. They cannot be relied upon."*

On the surface, Agares' gaze sweeps across the landscape as the group descends the landing ramp, taking in everything about this new land. His focus only moves to the welcoming committee when Killenvor's gaze lingers on Agares, his hooded head turning, clearly watching as he is being watched, before moving to look at the group in front of them as a whole when the overseer looks away. His voice booms out when the Lady-Captain stops talking, not directly addressing anyone. * "Information. We require it. You avoid the main prize, yes, afraid of what you may find, but even then. Your digs, they must have something. Objects. Names. Hints of secrets. The first step in the path to casting aside blessed ignorance to attain cursed understanding. You will tell us everything."*

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## The Glyphstone

In the centermost seat of the lander, the robed form of the Rogue Trader's chief astropath is huddled, almost hunched and twitching erratically. Jay is silent almost the entire way down, and though he makes no move towards the lander's windows, his clouded grey eyes stare straight unerringly through adamantium armor towards the city below them all the same.

"And they are right to fear. This world lies dead, and yet it still breathes - the lingering essence of hundred billion dead xenos haunts this accursed world. Their ghosts scream defiance of their rightful fate into the empty dark, and lesser men such as these could only die if they tried to wrest the treasures of the dead from their tombs."


Upon landing, if anything his tremors grow stronger, shivering in the face of an icy wind no one else can feel. He says nothing as the tech-priest and the Lady-Captain begin to interrogate her minions, blind eyes panning slowly back and forth across the desolate landscape.

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## Henry the 57th

> She gives a look to var Killenvor, " Overseer, it is my pleasure to do my due diligence, embrace my duty and put a personal touch on this _most important endeavor_; however I must apologize, we appear to have caught you at a poor time, have you not finished starting the expedition?" Without missing a beat, she draws a fan and begins fluffing away the dust from her face.


The Overseer's face pales a little and he swallows, but quickly rallies. *"My lady,"* he begins, licking the corner of his lips once more. *"I of course realize that our progress here on Egaria Theta may not have been quite what you expected, but I assure that there have been extenuating circumstances."* He glances at the former guardsmen surrounding the landing parties, and then further away to those indentured workers busy unloading newly-arrived supply shuttles further down the landing strip. *"Perhaps out here in the open might not be the place to discuss such... sensitive matters?"* He grins weakly, then bows a little at the waist, gesturing with both hands towards one of the many unremarkable prefab blockhouses used for some many things throughout the campsite. *"If my lady will consent, I would be very pleased... and highly honored to show her and any of her worthy companions to my humble office, where we might discuss matters in more confidence?"* He does his absolute best to make the smile seem genuine, and fails.




> As they land and the ramp opens he rises, dropping the visor of the carapace helm into place. Squinting through the polarised goggles he stomps down the ramp, massive melta cannon held low on its straps scanning for danger. He steps to one side as the Lady comes down the ramp and looks at the ranks of the linebreakers nodding to their master sergeants in a congenial way.


For their parts, the soldiers' iron masks make it difficult for Huss to determine exactly where they're looking or what they're feeling about anything, though one of the men standing in the neat ranks shifts a few degrees to the left and returns the nod. Colonel Hawadat's head whips around almost preternaturally fast, and the soldier with the temerity to loosen his attention stance snaps almost feverishly back into ramrod straight parade ground attention. The commanding officer takes a moment to stare down the offending man without shifting his own stance at all, and the mercenary suspects that he's committing that particular soldier to memory.




> On the surface, Agares' gaze sweeps across the landscape as the group descends the landing ramp, taking in everything about this new land. His focus only moves to the welcoming committee when Killenvor's gaze lingers on Agares, his hooded head turning, clearly watching as he is being watched, before moving to look at the group in front of them as a whole when the overseer looks away. His voice booms out when the Lady-Captain stops talking, not directly addressing anyone. * "Information. We require it. You avoid the main prize, yes, afraid of what you may find, but even then. Your digs, they must have something. Objects. Names. Hints of secrets. The first step in the path to casting aside blessed ignorance to attain cursed understanding. You will tell us everything."*


With Overseer Killenvor occupied attempting to appease the Lady-Captain, it is Magos Desnel that steps in to answer the cybernetic giant's request. Her grey eyes stare unflinchingly up at Agares, giving no sign that she is at all perturbed to see such an obvious mutant bearing the robes and sacred augmentics of the priesthood of Mars.

*"Affirmative,"* the heavily-filtered voice emerging from her respirator apparatus is very deep, only just discernable as a woman's at all. *"Numerous artifacts identified as bearing discernable levels of psychic charge, capable of breaking apart into substrates with total mass exceeding that of the original whole. Viscous liquid appearing to originate from crystalline masses has proven toxic to human life, though surviving local flora appear less susceptible. Most importantly, based on geode-pottery fragments found at the dig sites and surviving servo-skull pict-captures from within the xenos maze, Magos Biologis have begun codex of the Egarian language but it currently remains substandard and incomplete."* the Magos pauses briefly. *"Current collection of notable artifacts awaiting off-planet transport is located at Modular Prefabricated Shelter 337-618B, to be perused at my lords' discretion. Addendum: classification of many xenos artifacts is speculative in nature due to limitations placed on field testing,"* she glares briefly at the Overseer. *"But the Omnissiah provides."*




> Upon landing, if anything his tremors grow stronger, shivering in the face of an icy wind no one else can feel. He says nothing as the tech-priest and the Lady-Captain begin to interrogate her minions, blind eyes panning slowly back and forth across the desolate landscape.


The already unpleasant desert winds seem to, if anything, pick up when the the psyker sets foot on the ground. The blasts of warm air bring no relief from the sun's dry heat, only waves of silt, coarse, rough, and irritating, along with the smells of baked earth, sweat, and oil. On one level there is very little to see from here. Merely a highly standardized flat landing strip, surrounded by rows of identical prefabricated structures laid out in calculated patterns of interspersed grids, filled with dozens of menials in their dark grey fatigues struggling alongside the occasional heavy servitor to unload the latest supply shuttles bearing vital water, food, and mechanical parts. Iron-masked soldiers wander around blockhouses and through the laborers in their endless patrols, always in groups of at least two.

On another is the dull pulse of mundane life as found on a million different worlds throughout the Imperium, trifling and fleeting creatures of routine and superstition, petty desires and pettier feuds. Here, though, without any real effort at all Jay can all but taste the twin tangy undercurrents of weariness and fear running throughout the vast campsite, and the dull throbbing pulses of the hungry xenos megastructure looming within and above it all.

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## boj0

The Lady gives an all-knowing smile to the Overseer as she agrees to his request, her gene-edited eyes pierce into him, a rich purple that could understandably mistake her for a Cadian, she knows he will stumble over excuses and mix-up stories; honestly watching him squirm in what he perceives to be his safe haven would be worth it on its own, regardless of the benefit of getting out of the Emperor-damned heat. "I thank you Overseer for that offering of hospitality, I could wilt away under this sun; a lady of my pedigree is simply not meant to withstand these punishing elements that you have all so...adequately endured. Please, lead us to your office, I wish to be informed of our progress in the very heart of it!" Her tone, while sweet, to those who know her can practically feel the razor hidden under the honey and silk. She will get answers out of this man, and find out why enough men to choke a Hive Tyrant would be terrified of an empty city.

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## DrK

*Krieger Huss*

Krieger looks at the Lady and leans in towards her. *My Lady, I will take a tour of the walls. Get a lay of the land and see why the digs seem to have gone the wrong way.* That said he gestures at  4 of the infantry including the one that had nodded and summarily snaps at the Colonel. *You 4, fall in with me. You will give me a tour of the camp and fortifications.*

He nods at the Rogue Trader and gestures at the wall closest to the cathedral sized cave entrance. *We will start over there.*

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## Volthawk

Agares listens to Dresnel, putting things together in his mind. *"Within the maze? You have at least done that, yes, good, but none have been allowed in, yes? Bound by the fears of those with weaker wills...a typical fate."* Agares thinks for a moment, looking in Jay's direction for a moment before his gaze sweeps back to the magos. *"Psychically charged artefacts. We can do something about that...yes. The limitations placed here are meaningless. We are here now. None shall impede the quest for knowledge, not now, as we are acting under the authority of the raven. 218!"* He again looks at Jay, trying to get his attention. *"Come! We have secrets to uncover, dark powers to stare in the face of! Your talents will help."* That said, he turns to face the Lord-Captain and the Overseer, his voice again booming out so they can hear. *"I am leaving to see what they have. Overseer, we are ignoring your wishes now. Fears about the xenos will not impede us. Your wisdom is not needed. Prepare yourself."* With that, he turns away and gestures for Magos Dresnel to lead the way to the collection.

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## Henry the 57th

> The Lady gives an all-knowing smile to the Overseer as she agrees to his request, her gene-edited eyes pierce into him, a rich purple that could understandably mistake her for a Cadian, she knows he will stumble over excuses and mix-up stories; honestly watching him squirm in what he perceives to be his safe haven would be worth it on its own, regardless of the benefit of getting out of the Emperor-damned heat. "I thank you Overseer for that offering of hospitality, I could wilt away under this sun; a lady of my pedigree is simply not meant to withstand these punishing elements that you have all so...adequately endured. Please, lead us to your office, I wish to be informed of our progress in the very heart of it!" Her tone, while sweet, to those who know her can practically feel the razor hidden under the honey and silk. She will get answers out of this man, and find out why enough men to choke a Hive Tyrant would be terrified of an empty city.


*"Of course, my lady,"* the greying Overseer's face relaxes just a fraction. *"If you and any of your companions who care to will kindly follow me."*

The journey to the Overseer's office is a remarkable short one. The grey prefabricated blockhouse housing the camp's center of authority is quite literally within spitting distance of the landing strip's edge, distinguished from the rest only by its dull alphanumeric designation and the twin grey and purple banners bearing the sigil of House Ravenholm hanging on either side of its main entrance. The moment the small group steps through its sliding steel double doors the temperature drops noticeably, from dusty and sweltering hot to that of a cool autumn evening underlaid with the pervasive scents of iron and machine oil. Killenvor and his small entourage guide the Lady-Captain and her crew to a room at blockhouse's rear, large enough to be used for conferences but currently laid out as a single massive office. The dull grey metallic floors are covered with an enormous and costly gold and scarlet rug, the walls by a mix of paintings, shelves crammed with books and scrolls, and several plinths topped with exotic (and almost pornographic in one case) sculpture. A bulky military-style holo-table occupies the rearward right corner of the room, but the oversized, luxuriously appointed, solid wooden desk parked straight in the center of the room is indisputably its most dominant feature. The carved wooden lion's heads, golden filigree, and deep red velvet cushioning of the chair behind it almost make the Overseer's seat resemble the throne, but the half-dozen seats spread out in front of the desk are only just less well-appointed. Their host gestures for the Rogue Trader and company to take a seat, only lowering himself into his chair behind the desk when they have done so first.

*"My lady, I completely understand your frustrations,"* Killenvor begins after taking a moment to straighten out his windswept finery and take a deep breath. *"Believe me, I do. You appointed me to oversee this expedition with clear instructions that we should plumb the interior of this xenos hive, this 'Egarian Maze-City', and from the first day I arrived on planet my efforts were all bent to exactly that end. Why, virtually the moment after the first living quarters had been set up, there were men marching right through the damned thing's gate!"* He clenches one fist. *"And before the month was out parties of men and machines hundreds strong were entering that place every single day. Yes, we had to pull back by night, when the interior grows almost entirely pitch black - something about the stone absorbing sunlight and projecting it inside during the day, I really don't understand how that works - every morning at sunrise my overseers had menials by the score lined up to go inside, and gave any who were too slow about it a taste of the lash, I assure you! But..."* here his confident look begins to waver. *"We didn't find any grand treasures in our delving. Some minor artifacts - all of which we sent to you, of course - but we were never able to discover anything of great value in those spaces we could reach during the course of the day. And when we returned the next morn for further delving, there were... problems. Problems of a rather unexpected sort."* He breathes a deep sigh.

*"The structure was different, my lady,"* the man explains. *"Every day. Every single damned day. Each and every time. Look!"* he bends over and extracts jumbled mess of paper sheets and parchment from a draw, spreading them across his desk with wild abandon. Even a cursory look shows a series of maps of wildly varying crudeness or sophistication featuring a similarly-proportioned entrance immediately devolving into a wildly contradictory mess of tunnels, hallways both curved and sharply angular, atriums, honeycomb-like stacks of apparent living quarters, stairways, slopes, dead-end rooms of no apparent purpose, and grand, cyclopean mausoleum chambers vast enough to contain the entire dig site camp within themselves. *"I had the interior mapped over a hundred times during the delving. Menials, guardsmen, servo-skulls, tech-priests, I sent all of them to map what they saw, and with every passing day every one came back with something different. How was I to wring treasure out of that? We couldn't very well stay inside overnight, the men... the men wouldn't tolerate it."*

*"But that wasn't the worst of it,"* he continues. *"Men went into that maze and came back with... stories. Laborers went missing in there, and soon people were telling wild tales of entrances vanishing while backs were turned, with men still inside. Rumors spread of distant, echoing screams seeming to come from nowhere, the sudden smell of blood in the air, whipping winds and dust clouds emerging from nowhere in small stone rooms. The most persistent and damaging rumors spoke of shadowy giants, half again as tall as man with empty green eyes that gleamed in the darkness. First it was just in the maze, but before much time had past men were claiming to have spotted them just beyond our perimeter walls, stalking in the desert on these damnably moonless night. They attribute all sorts of supernatural powers to them, from moving through walls to killing a man with a single glance."* he adjusts his collar. *"Preposterous, of course, none of the honored magi's auspexes detected any life signs beyond human ones in vicinity of all disappearances that they were present for, or at any other time they spent in the maze. No tracks of these supposed desert apparitions have ever been located."* It's unclear if he's neglecting to mention churning of the sands caused by the constant strong winds or just hasn't thought of that. *"And of course we have never located a single body. Clearly some menials simply got lost in the depths, or even took the opportunity to disappear from their rightful indenture, but try explaining that to the masses."*

Killenvor breathes in and out, wiping away a faint bead of sweat with one gloved hand. *"But it got worse from there. There were handful of incidents within the camp, regular mechanical failure of course, but heightened by feeble minds infected by paranoia into something much worse. There was talking of vox sets spontaneously activating, broadcasting screams or moans or unaccountable babble in in hideous alien languages. Magos Desnel assured me that such things were of course impossible while the holy servants of the Omnissiah tended to them, but the masses believed it nonetheless. Machines broke that ought not to have with sand clogging their parts, and this somehow became evidence to the labor force that we were being haunted. Men awoke screaming from strange nightmares, doubtless brought on by flourishing paranoia, and through rumors and exaggeration and the half-remembered qualities of all dreams came to conclude that actually dozens of people were having almost the same one! And then... desertions."* he swallows once, then nods. *"Yes desertions. People say that they were disappearances when they think I'm not listening, even abductions, but the absurdity of that is plain on its face. There were no break-ins, the gates remained sealed and the razor wire untouched. No tracks or tunnels have ever been discovered, with even the most thorough of searches. The missing men must simply have deserted, driven mad by fear and fleeing into the desert. It's not as though we had spare mounts or vehicles to hunt them down."* The greying bronze-skinned man nods again, ignoring the bead of sweat running down the back of his neck.

*"But I did everything I could!"* he suddenly sounds almost pleading. *"Believe me, my lady, I truly did! I doubled patrols, I instituted a curfew, I lashed men who spread rumors, nothing helped."* He puts his face in his hands. *"We couldn't stop it. The men... my lady, you must understand, then men here are lowborn peasants, deeply superstitious and uneducated. Every wild sighting in the dark became abominable xenos giant, every flicker of transmition interference became the wailing of the damned, every runaway laborer became a screaming soul plucked up by ghosts and daemons and alien monsters in the dead of night. Weeks went by, and none of them without the beginnings of riot. It spread, and the Colonel..."* here he bangs his fist on the desk, *"The Colonel refused to keep his men in line. They talked to the menials, they talked to one another, and soon enough half of them were ready to shoot me if I didn't back down!"* The Overseer wrings his hands. *"What else could I do but relent? The camp was verging on full-scale rebellion, my lady! The expeditions into the maze were useless. The only way I could safeguard any of your investment was to appease the crowd."* He looks back up again. *"I've worked the disloyal dogs as hard I can sense then, believe me! Every day they toil in the earth from sunup to sundown, bringing every scrap of anything unnatural to your tech-priests for identification. But there are only scraps for them to find, and virtually none are left who will brave the xeno structure."*

The man takes a moment, burying his face in his hands once more and breathing deeply, clearly doing his best to calm himself down. When his gloved hands retreat a moment later his face is noticeably flushed, and a few more drops of sweat are trickling down his forehead.

*"My lady, I truly am sorry, but..."* Killenvor swallows. *"It is my recommendation that the expedition to Egaria Theta be abandoned in its totality as utterly unprofitable, and that accursed and worthless maze-city be thoroughly bombarded from orbit. For wasting your valuable time and wealth, of course."*




> *Krieger Huss*
> 
> Krieger looks at the Lady and leans in towards her. *My Lady, I will take a tour of the walls. Get a lay of the land and see why the digs seem to have gone the wrong way.* That said he gestures at  4 of the infantry including the one that had nodded and summarily snaps at the Colonel. *You 4, fall in with me. You will give me a tour of the camp and fortifications.*
> 
> He nods at the Rogue Trader and gestures at the wall closest to the cathedral sized cave entrance. *We will start over there.*


*"As you say,"* Colonel Hawadat takes the news with a terse nod, raising one hand briefly. Immediately, all four of the soldiers Krieger pointed out reach behind them bringing their shouldered lasguns about and into ready position with the impeccably drilled precision of those who have been stuck without any real action for months. He makes a forward gesture with two fingers, and he, the quartet, Krieger, and anyone else who cares to join their little tour are lead veering off to the left of the Overseer's group.

The journey towards the wall is a bit of a walk, with the landing strip having been conspicuously placed in the center of the camp, as far away from the edges as physically manageable. Between the glaring sun and constant drafts of hot air blowing gritty, irritating, brown dust all over his face on the way there Krieger gains a greater understanding of why the Linebreakers have continued their traditions of iron masks. The lowly menials the group passes have had to make due with cloth face wraps around their nose and mouth and crude goggles when they can get them. Tans are universal on those bits of skin not covered up, which contrasts heavily with loose-fitting clothes that are either white or so sun-bleached that they might as well be. Colored clothing seems to be a luxury of those elites who can stay inside most of the day or soldiers who get the first pick of new shipments.

Still, unpleasant environment aside, the small squad does reach the perimeter wall with a few minutes of weaving their way through the gridlike maze of grey prefab buildings. Boots clang on dusty metal as they make a short climb up. While the Egarian maze could hardly ever be concealed, from atop the walls it somehow appears larger and closer than it did from ground level. As to the wall itself, Krieger recognizes it as an enlarged version of the venerable Aegis Defense Line used by the Imperial Guard the galaxy over, with coils of razorwire strung out in between the metallic slabs' intermittent protrusions, themselves interspersed with firing slits. Anchoring the line are a number of small bastion towers, only a few steps higher than the surrounding ramparts but each equipped with a broad tripod holding a two-man autocannon only technically qualifying as man-portable.

*"Overseer Killenvor wanted the heavy guns rearranged,"* the Colonel says as the small group passes one such autocannon, currently the midst of receiving careful ritual propitiation in the form of a thorough application of sacred unguents and blessings against dust and overheating by a maroon-robed tech adept. *"Said we should put more of them towards the xeno hive's entrance, since that was where the danger was most likely to come from. I told him that was idiotic, because at this distance any force emerging from there,"* he indicates the cavernous open gateway, *"could flank around the campsite hundreds of meters before entering effective range. So we've kept them as evenly spread as possible. One autocannon every fifty meters or so as best we can, with as much overlap in field of fire as possible. The rocky terrain doesn't always make that possible, though,"* he remarks.

*"The contingent on Egaria Theta is only about two hundred fifty men strong,"* Hawadat continues as they go on. *"During the day, we've got twenty or so men watching over the menials at the dig site, maybe twenty-five patrolling within the camp, and around fifty stationed on the walls, mostly on the autocannons. During the night, when curfew hits, we try to keep seventy-five men on the patrolling the wall in shifts, and another fifty on alert throughout the camp. We've only got four Chimeras for armor, so we tend to keep two stationed near the gates and two positioned towards the center of the camp, for rapid reaction in case of any incidents,* he glances at Krieger. *"So far, we've not had to use them for anything more than shuttling people around, thank the Emperor.*

When the little group has a walked a ways along the perimeter wall that Krieger notices the Colonel begin to intermittently, subtly look around. It's only when they've reached an isolated spot between bastion towers, beyond earshot of the ordinary troopers and further isolated by winds escalating into a near dust storm, that the officer stops the group in its tracks with a single gesture.

*"You want to know why the digs are all on the opposite side of the xeno structure?"* he sighs, and for the first time seems less than entirely in control. *"The Overseer will tell you stories about whispers in the dark, strange transmitions, men vanishing into the maze, tales of ghosts and monsters, recurring nightmare-visions across the camp, the threat of riots from terrified serfs, even green-eyed shadow giants stalking the night. But the truth is much simpler than that."* His voice grows bother quieter and heavier, as if from shame. *"During the time when we were exploring the maze, there were... disappearances within the camp itself. At first it was menials, maybe one or two wandering outside by starlight. Then came the curfews, then the increasing nightly patrols. All that happened was that soldiers started to go missing too."* He shakes his head. *"No one ever saw anything. No one ever found anything. No tracks, no screams, no weapons fire, no signs of a struggle. We checked the gates, their locks were undamaged. We checked the walls, the wire was uncut and nothing was ever caught in it."*

Around him, Krieger can sense the other soldiers' discipline beginning to wear away. Some are looking around warily, others looking down at their feet, one fidgeting with his lasgun. The wind in his ears also seems to be picking up, sounding almost as if it itself contains the ghost of a howl.

*"It kept going,"* Hawadat continues after taking a deep breath. *"Killenvor kept ordering us not to talk about it, to whip men and menials for spreading rumors, trying everything he could to keep it quiet and find the source, but nothing tangible could ever be located for us to shoot. It just kept going and going and going until... Serena."* He looks up from where he'd been staring at his boots. *"She was just a menial laborer, at least at first, but then she became... close to the Overseer. Got out of the sun, got the best kinds of rations, suddenly was doing his dictations when she was barely literate, you get the idea. Well, one night Killenvor was out of his office doing something or other with the cogboys. He left her in quarters to wait for him and when he returned..."* he gives a slight shudder. *"Gone. She vanished, right out from the middle of what was supposed to be the most secure building in the whole damned campsite. Right where the Overseer himself sleeps every night. None of the four guards outside the building reported noticing a thing."*

*"After that,"* the Colonel brings himself to say after a moment's pause. *"We stopped going inside. Killenvor sent every menial, every soldier to the external dig sites the next day, and not a man crossed the maze's threshold. The disappearances stopped, that very same night. Whatever it was doesn't seem to care if we poke around in the dirt, just if we poke our nose inside. So if the Lady-Captain wants to know why we haven't sent more expeditions inside,"* he shrugs a little sardonically, *"Now she does."*




> Agares listens to Dresnel, putting things together in his mind. *"Within the maze? You have at least done that, yes, good, but none have been allowed in, yes? Bound by the fears of those with weaker wills...a typical fate."* Agares thinks for a moment, looking in Jay's direction for a moment before his gaze sweeps back to the magos. *"Psychically charged artefacts. We can do something about that...yes. The limitations placed here are meaningless. We are here now. None shall impede the quest for knowledge, not now, as we are acting under the authority of the raven. 218!"* He again looks at Jay, trying to get his attention. *"Come! We have secrets to uncover, dark powers to stare in the face of! Your talents will help."* That said, he turns to face the Lord-Captain and the Overseer, his voice again booming out so they can hear. *"I am leaving to see what they have. Overseer, we are ignoring your wishes now. Fears about the xenos will not impede us. Your wisdom is not needed. Prepare yourself."* With that, he turns away and gestures for Magos Dresnel to lead the way to the collection.


*"Affirmative,"* Magos Desnel nods at Agares, *"Follow and observe."*

Without further preamble, the camp's head techpriest leads Agares along with anyone who chooses to follow them off to the right of the landing strip, moving at a smooth and even pace. The journey takes less than a minute, and quite fittingly the prefabricated building containing the recovered treasures is completely identical to all of those surrounding it, with the exceptions of the alphanumeric designation on its side and the half dozen grey and purple armored soldiers doing their best to stand the building's meager shade. The Magos doesn't bother to present any sort of identification, they simply move aside as she leads her guests onwards.

The doors open at her touch to reveal that in this blockhouse are a mere three other techpriests in maroon robes, several noticeably sun bleached but none quite so severely as their leader's. An icon of Omnissiah has been welded onto the the back walls and four bronze censers hang from the ceiling, constantly dispensing a purplish incense mist, giving the building the pungent scents of spice and coolant. None of the acolytes here glance up from their small, blocked-in workstations as the doors slide shut behind their mistress and her strange giant guest, as is only appropriate.

*"Observe and obtain knowledge,"* Desnel says, gesturing with one cybernetic arm towards a set of displays laid out on a multitude of tables in the center of the blockhouse. Considering the sheer amount of men and material located here and the proximity of a undoubtedly massive source of untapped xenos artifacts, Agares deems the number of finds on hand to be pitifully small. Still he reflects as the Magos leads him through them, it is not quite nothing.

In the center of the lot is a series of displays succinctly labeled "weapons and adjacent". These are overwhelmingly yellow, white, or blackish curved crystalline blades or the fragments thereof, each smooth to the touch at the handle and simultaneously jagged and razor-sharp just about everywhere else. Just scraping these along the skin would obviously embed a considerable number of vicious, oily shards into the flesh as though passing through a thorn bush. These seem like they should wear themselves to nothing over the course of just a few uses, but recording experimental data show that mass does not decrease on the blades even after seemingly significant portions of them have become embedded in targets. There are a smaller number of shards that seem appropriate for ranged weapons, indicated to be the shavings of similarly seeming-infinite crystal lumps from inside the maze.

A second set of tables plays host to a variety of tubes, beakers, flasks, engines for heating and cooling, and cell cultures, all wrapped around a bare handful of oily-looking, largely yellowish crystals, all under the label "chemical abnormalities". Carefully balanced collection systems catch the tiniest drops of vicious fluid that drips achingly slowly from the alien gems, as if they were driblets of sludge from an underhive pipe. A number of what seem to be human cell cultures, alongside three palm-sized reddish reptilians and a lone sand-colored arthropod have rather obviously been used to test the effects of the concoctions on organic life. In the case of the human flesh, the recorded results are scarcely needed - the oily black ruins are quite enough.

A final spread, simply labeled "curios" is perhaps the least dramatic. For the most part it is simply an odd mishmash of what appears to be bits and pieces of shattered pottery, though on closer inspection is revealed to be immaculate stonework shaped from a white and yellow marble-like rock, with a greater number of those same angular, mazelike glyphs carved deep into their sides. There is a fragment of what might once have been an oddly geometric statue of a black stone resembling obsidian, carved into by sickly yellow glyphs. The only other item of note on this table is an unusually colorful greenish-blue (or perhaps blueish-green?) spherical object, carved up into four not quite even segments by writhing, almost serpentine glyphs that seem completely at odds with the rest of the Egarian language fragments on display. The label beside it simply reads "function unknown".

*"Our greatest accomplishment,"* Desnel concludes the brief tour by gesturing to a massive iron-bound tome laid out on a small altar with her large mechadendrite, reverence obvious in even her heavy, mechanical voice. *"A codex detailing partial transliteration of Egarian runic language into Low Gothic equivalents. The work of my finest xenobiologists, laboring with pict-captures and scraps of masonry. While yet incomplete, with it we are beginning to identify methods for truly understanding the xenos, this maze they left behind, and what might lie deep within. And perhaps,"* here a note of excitement creeps into her synthesized monotone, *"learn how they controlled it."*

----------


## boj0

Lisette Ravenholm listens intently to the Overseer, while she was sure she was only going to hear trite excuses and platitudes promising results (which, to be fair she was), she was not expecting the juicy details that the maze-city was possibly some pseudo-sentient biosphere that altered itself constantly as a potential defense mechanism against the investigation attempts of the weak-willed. Superstition or not, this was most definitely a unique situation, that required the utmost care and practicality. 

Except, Captain Lisette Athena Brunhilde Yor Ravenholm was not one for meek practicality or one to shy away from such an opportunity; in fact, the only thing she could do to stop the gears of her mind from spinning at ludicrous speeds imagining the fame and adventure such a city would offer, was to formulate how she would berate this man for attempting to deny her the chance.

"My dear Overseer, while I appreciate the concern for the vast, _vast_ wealth of House Ravenholm; I cannot help but have a pang of disappointment that you feel such a circumstance warrants that drastic a response; you say that the city itself alters and changes every time you send an expedition out? That it seems to mutate and morph in response to our probing? My good man, that only _solidifies_ our reasoning to be here. Why else would a city protect itself in such a grandiose manner if not to slow our claim at grandiose treasure? No, no, no. This is but the end of the first, sad, blasé chapter of our expedition on Egaria Theta. We must rally the men, so to speak; we much establish a concrete pattern for what causes such reactions from the walls of the city, discover if there is a pattern we can exploit, find _something_ to know exactly, how, when, and most importantly, _why_ the amorphous district acts as it does. If we discover the rules of this game, then we can win the prize. Oh hohohoho, var Killenvor, we do not have reason to flee; we have reason to try harder. I am simply beside myself with intrigue at the puzzle you present."

The Lady-Captain briskly stands from her chair, and snaps her fan shut, rhythmically tapping it in her palm as she begins pacing the room, looking over the various sculptures and attempts at culture the Overseer has adorned his meeting room with. She could feel her excitement, imagination, and wanderlust simmer just under her skin; she _must_ see this city for herself, if only to prove to the simple-minded cretins in her employ that they had nothing to fear; and if they knew that she was leading the charge, that would only serve to solidify their loyalty to her and allow the Overseer to truly experience the crushing weight of his failure. A win-win.

"I shall need a day or two to prepare myself and those I trust on such a...unique adventure, then I shall speak to the laborers and men-at-arms, they shall know that the House they serve is more than willing to walk into the abyss by their side, they are sure to feel emboldened by that; a small, well-equipped team of experts shall establish a safe path into the maze-city and back to the camp. After that, we will have proof that the men do not throw away their lives needlessly when they explore. Once they get over their boorish superstitions, an _actual_ expedition into the city shall commence and we shall crash upon that city as a wave, flowing into every nook and cranny; no secret shall escape the reach and bravery of dedicated Imperial ingenuity, we shall take the city for all its worth and bring it back out into the light of the Emperor and shall bask in the glorious light of our success as our station *demands*."

Despite her barely-approaching-average build, Captain Ravenholm seems to fill the room and loom over var Killenvor, she gazes into the man's soul and finds it wanting; she has made herself known and will harbor no disobedience; they _will_ succeed at this endeavor, even if it kills them him. Her hand resting on the hilt of her power sword, she no longer has the posture of a simple noblewoman, but has let her adventurous spirit take over and poses as a warrior-queen, her face stoic, with just the hint of a sneer of superiority. 

"You've managed to find me in a fanciful mood, Overseer, for I shall not punish you for your flacid attempts at glory and concern for your betters, no, I shall take this matter into my own hands and drag these poor souls to _victory_. Eat, dink, and be merry these next few days, for then I shall take you under my wing and put you through the crucible; and pray to the Emperor that you do not falter Tertius; for I _will_ make sure that you bring this situation to a satisfactory conclusion. Now, fetch me a bottle of what you believe to be quality amsec; I am flush with purpose and wish to celebrate this outpost taking its first steps on the path to legend."

----------


## DrK

*Krieger Huss*

Walking with the Colonel and the men Krieger nods and listens carefully. *"Inside the city what are conditions like? Is it large enough for tracked vehicles or are the tunnels more cramped? We will need to see the most recent maps or at least the range of maps that have become available. Our Magos or Astropath may be able to make more sense of the strange goings on."* Kriger taps the bolt pistol, *"I only deal with more practical things."*

He pauses at the gun turret crouching down beside the autocannon and checking the mechanism and siting. With a curt nod he grins *"Its a good one, I have manned them before. Very well Colonel, I shall report to the Lady Captain that you've been responding to the Overseer's orders. But, I suspect the Lady Captain will be venturing into the City. We will need 2 of the chimera's made ready, clean and presentable and a squad of your toughest and best who have been inside. Any that have knowledge of the pathways they have seen before."* 

Pulling out a hip flask of shipboard moonshine he takes a sip then offers the Colonel and the men a sip each. *"Dusty, makes the mouth dry. I've seen nicer deathworlds"*.

---

Following the tour he heads back towards the Overseer's security centre looking for the Lady Captain. Once he finds the lady Captain he offers he a low bow, *"Lady Ravenholm"* I have spoken with the Colonel and can make a full report later, but the troops are not the issue here. They can prepare transport and an escort if you wish us to visit the tunnels of the city.

----------


## The Glyphstone

Jay nods obediently as the Magos-Explorator's command breaks through the oppressive malus laid down upon him by the xenos city's aura, and he trails behind the two tech-priests to the tent while absent-mindedly stroking his cogwheel necklace. Inside, he is silent while the two priests exchange information, wondering their choice to vocally express data through the comparatively less-efficient Low Gothic instead of Binary is a deliberate effort to include him. When prompted by Agares, though, he steps up to the table and leans against his staff, while his blind eyes bore into the assortment of relics and trinkets in search of their unseen secrets.

*Spoiler: Psyniscience Test*
Show


(1d100)[*13*] vs 71.

----------


## boj0

> *Krieger Huss*
> Following the tour he heads back towards the Overseer's security centre looking for the Lady Captain. Once he finds the lady Captain he offers he a low bow, *"Lady Ravenholm"* I have spoken with the Colonel and can make a full report later, but the troops are not the issue here. They can prepare transport and an escort if you wish us to visit the tunnels of the city.


Without breaking eye contact with the Overseer, Captain Ravenholm smiles, "Thank you for the prompt update Master Huss, I believe that we shall need no more than a few days to go over the available reports and research, prepare ourselves, and make a dedicated attempt at establishing a forward outpost within the maze-city. If this city is truly as opposed to our attempts as the good Overseer here claims, we will need to be at our most prepared."

----------


## Volthawk

Agares looks over the assorted items with interest, nodding with approval as he sees Jay begin his examination. 218 understood well. This was good, for while Agares saw much that the average person did not, in the shadows and in his dreams, rattling in his mind, the psyker in turn saw even more, things he'd never be able to sense, let alone understand.

The weaponry gets a cursory inspection - his main concern there is whether or not the shards can be extracted once placed in someone through one of these weapons, given that if their journey into the maze meant someone got hurt, it would fall onto him and his mechadendrites to fix the situation, one way or another. The chemicals are also mildly interesting, Agares mentally comparing the effects to those that he'd seen before in the hopes of finding understanding, but neither of those are what he's really interested in. Much as Desnel seemed to expect, though, Agares' main focus is on the codex, the more dextrous and capable of manipulation of his mechadendrites snaking out to grab it and open it, keeping it open for him to reference the other glyphs as he goes along the room. He doesn't speak through this process, the closest thing being a kind of incoherent binaric mumbling, old memories and new whispers colliding in his addled mind, the new lore in his hands in front of them potentially providing a key, which he could unlock...clarity, perhaps? Deeper madness? What they're screaming? Or just some mundane information on the nature of the maze. He wasn't quite sure yet.

*Spoiler*
Show


Going to try to activate Whispers Unheard for a FL (Xenos) check to figure out something of use from the codex and writing we've got, and to see if he knows anything about where the mystery item might be from, given that it doesn't appear Egarian.
Whispers Unheard activation <TN 55>: (1d100)[*28*]
*Forbidden Lore (Xenos)* <TN 75, 102 if WU is active>: (1d100)[*75*]
If this test benefited from Whispers Unheard and succeeded, Insanity: (1d5-2)[*0*]

Whispers Unheard is weird, as it benefits Int-based tests for just a round, but it's not like lore tests have an action involved. I'm figuring that given the actions involved IC (ie reading and examining), it only benefits the one FL test here at least, and so the following test doesn't benefit (and I won't bother with a second activation).
Scholastic Lore (Chymistry) for any relevant insights on the cystal acid <TN 55>: (1d100)[*61*]

----------


## Henry the 57th

> "I shall need a day or two to prepare myself and those I trust on such a...unique adventure, then I shall speak to the laborers and men-at-arms, they shall know that the House they serve is more than willing to walk into the abyss by their side, they are sure to feel emboldened by that; a small, well-equipped team of experts shall establish a safe path into the maze-city and back to the camp. After that, we will have proof that the men do not throw away their lives needlessly when they explore. Once they get over their boorish superstitions, an _actual_ expedition into the city shall commence and we shall crash upon that city as a wave, flowing into every nook and cranny; no secret shall escape the reach and bravery of dedicated Imperial ingenuity, we shall take the city for all its worth and bring it back out into the light of the Emperor and shall bask in the glorious light of our success as our station *demands*."


At that, the Overseer looks like he wants to say something, his lined face tensing up for just a moment, but then he bites his tongue and lets it go. Whatever it was, it was clearly less important to him than staying in the Rogue Trader's good graces.




> "You've managed to find me in a fanciful mood, Overseer, for I shall not punish you for your flacid attempts at glory and concern for your betters, no, I shall take this matter into my own hands and drag these poor souls to _victory_. Eat, dink, and be merry these next few days, for then I shall take you under my wing and put you through the crucible; and pray to the Emperor that you do not falter Tertius; for I _will_ make sure that you bring this situation to a satisfactory conclusion. Now, fetch me a bottle of what you believe to be quality amsec; I am flush with purpose and wish to celebrate this outpost taking its first steps on the path to legend."


*"I hope that your crucible will be of the mental sort, my lady,"* Killenvor says, tugging just a little at his collar. *"I am little old and worn to be trapsing around on personal adventures. I'm afraid I haven't personally fired a weapon in anger in over twenty-three years. While I remain utterly at your service, of course,"* here he bows his head, by total coincidence prominently displaying his visibly greying hair in the process. *"I fear I would only slow you down within the maze-city itself, wasting God Emperor only knows how much of your precious time in the process."*

*"Amasec,"* he nods quickly, almost eagerly getting to his own feet. *"Yes, yes of course, my lady."* 

The Overseer's gait is noticeably hurried as he makes his way out of his office, and noticeably less so when he returns a few minutes later. In his hands is a bottle of amber-colored amasec with a label indicating a vintage one hundred and seventy-one years past from Scintilla, the capital of Great Calixis itself. Which is saying something, considering that that world is a Hive World and hardly known for its quality vineyards. The bottle is opened for what is apparently the first time and generous helpings are poured, and it swiftly become apparent that soil from a hideously-polluted industrial powerhouse does not make for the tastiest of vintages, no matter how many filters some entrepreneuring vinter no doubt attempted to use. Despite the rather mediocre taste, it is undoubtedly a very prestigious alcohol to be consuming, though the way the Overseer gulps it down indicates he probably isn't thinking much about that. 




> Walking with the Colonel and the men Krieger nods and listens carefully. *"Inside the city what are conditions like? Is it large enough for tracked vehicles or are the tunnels more cramped? We will need to see the most recent maps or at least the range of maps that have become available. Our Magos or Astropath may be able to make more sense of the strange goings on."* Kriger taps the bolt pistol, *"I only deal with more practical things."*


At the word "map", the soldiers around Krieger burst into derisive laughter, and the Colonel himself can be heard to snigger just a bit.

*"You want a map? Ask the Overseer. He's got dozens of 'em, half of 'em we made ourselves, didn't we?"* the soldiers continue to hoot behind the mercenary. *"They ain't any use. Place turns black as the void by night, all but useless to stay in there even if you're fool enough to try. The damned thing just seems to drink up any light you care to use. And then by morning the whole thing's changed. Gate's still open, but everything past that is different every sunrise. You can get a map, or make one, but it won't do you any good."*




> He pauses at the gun turret crouching down beside the autocannon and checking the mechanism and siting. With a curt nod he grins *"Its a good one, I have manned them before. Very well Colonel, I shall report to the Lady Captain that you've been responding to the Overseer's orders. But, I suspect the Lady Captain will be venturing into the City. We will need 2 of the chimera's made ready, clean and presentable and a squad of your toughest and best who have been inside. Any that have knowledge of the pathways they have seen before."*


*"Sir,"* the commanding officer begins, while his men continue to chuckle bitterly in the background, half drowned out by the howling winds. *"The Chimeras, the men, that I can do. But knowledge of previous pathways? Won't help you damned bit. They're never the same day to day. Never."*




> Jay nods obediently as the Magos-Explorator's command breaks through the oppressive malus laid down upon him by the xenos city's aura, and he trails behind the two tech-priests to the tent while absent-mindedly stroking his cogwheel necklace. Inside, he is silent while the two priests exchange information, wondering their choice to vocally express data through the comparatively less-efficient Low Gothic instead of Binary is a deliberate effort to include him. When prompted by Agares, though, he steps up to the table and leans against his staff, while his blind eyes bore into the assortment of relics and trinkets in search of their unseen secrets.
> 
> *Spoiler: Psyniscience Test*
> Show
> 
> 
> [roll0] vs 71.


*Spoiler: Jay*
Show

Looking over the xenos artifacts using your second sight, it is readily apparent that each and every one of the items present, even down to the small glyph-covered shards of pottery-like stonework spread out across the displays, have been touched by psychic energies to one degree or another. All seem to share a similarly sickly yellow and blackish aura to them, though on most this is merely a trace clustered about the little bits of runic script carved into their surfaces, unlikely to ever have had any real power in the material realm. The aura of power appears noticeably stronger on the jagged blades and venom-dripping geodes. You can deduce that they are somehow able to absorb transform the roiling energies of the immterium into tangible, stable material objects, in this case either poison or simply more of themselves. Perhaps even more importantly, they are somehow able to ward off time's decay of their physical forms, at least to a limited extent.

However, to your blind eyes these alien blades and ammunition appear as if a bottle of amasec drained to its very last dregs. Their energies appear to be near to expiring, though given their sheer age that may yet take several human lifetimes to accomplish. You would hazard a guess that, many eons ago, these weaponized gemstones used to hold considerably more power than they do now. Either time itself has weakened whatever alien witchery was woven into their construction or something (someone?) has been ever so slowly sipping away at whatever energies were once contained in these xenos relics, such that physically destroying the runes that you can sense somehow woven deep into their internal crystalline matrix would probably be enough to dispel the traces of psychic power that remain, and most likely reduce them to dust in the process. Or maybe it is the fact that these particular relics have mostly been physically removed from the maze-city for Emperor only knows how long that has caused their power to decay?

The effect is much less pronounced with the shards of alien stonework, perhaps because they never contained any meaningful power at all. Weirdly, despite the fact that the iron-backed codex is entirely of human manufacture and merely serves as a record of twisting glyph writings of the Egarians, it too possesses the beginnings of a similar yellow and black aura, albeit considerably weaker than even the withered shadows of power huddling about their artifacts. Perhaps their written language in and of itself possesses some psychic qualities? Will this power too disperse in time?

As to the little colorful sphere though... it looks quite different from the rest, flickers of some shadowy aura swaying back and forth like an anemone in the ocean currents. You can sense the stink of sorcery about it. You would guess that it is a good deal younger than the other Egarian artifacts, and a good deal more powerful than they are in their current state. But what function exactly it serves isn't immediately clear to your psychic eyes. For your money, at least some of the serpentine glyphs on it are actively obfuscating its purpose.





> Agares looks over the assorted items with interest, nodding with approval as he sees Jay begin his examination. 218 understood well. This was good, for while Agares saw much that the average person did not, in the shadows and in his dreams, rattling in his mind, the psyker in turn saw even more, things he'd never be able to sense, let alone understand.
> 
> The weaponry gets a cursory inspection - his main concern there is whether or not the shards can be extracted once placed in someone through one of these weapons, given that if their journey into the maze meant someone got hurt, it would fall onto him and his mechadendrites to fix the situation, one way or another. The chemicals are also mildly interesting, Agares mentally comparing the effects to those that he'd seen before in the hopes of finding understanding, but neither of those are what he's really interested in. Much as Desnel seemed to expect, though, Agares' main focus is on the codex, the more dextrous and capable of manipulation of his mechadendrites snaking out to grab it and open it, keeping it open for him to reference the other glyphs as he goes along the room. He doesn't speak through this process, the closest thing being a kind of incoherent binaric mumbling, old memories and new whispers colliding in his addled mind, the new lore in his hands in front of them potentially providing a key, which he could unlock...clarity, perhaps? Deeper madness? What they're screaming? Or just some mundane information on the nature of the maze. He wasn't quite sure yet.
> 
> *Spoiler*
> Show
> 
> 
> Going to try to activate Whispers Unheard for a FL (Xenos) check to figure out something of use from the codex and writing we've got, and to see if he knows anything about where the mystery item might be from, given that it doesn't appear Egarian.
> ...


*Spoiler: Agares*
Show

Looking over the codex, you find that it is, so far at least, merely a list of a handful of the many examples of the twisting, angular, almost mazelike Egarian runes, alongside broad concepts written in Imperial Low Gothic rather than Binary, presumably for the benefit of the uninitiated. While most of the concepts don't seem very useful, you do pick out ones indicative of the four cardinal directions, as well as those signifying the concepts of high and depth. These might be useful for working out directions within the maze, should any happen to show up on the wall etchings. Also, weirdly, the glyphs symbolizing the concepts of "north", "forward or straight", and "decay or ruination" appear to be almost identical in their language.

There is, to the best of your knowledge, nothing about the crystals that would prevent them from being manually extracted from a patient in the same manner as shards of glass or metal. It's the various toxic fluids that seem to slowly seep from somewhere within them that would pose the greatest challenge.

Whatever that little sphere is, it's like nothing you've seen before and does not seem to belong to any of the xenos species that you have any knowledge of. What you can say for certain is that it appears a good deal less weathered and aged than the Egarian artifacts, and the glyphs on it do not look to be related to the extinct xenos' script, linguistically speaking.

You don't figure out anything about the chemical drips coming from the various crystal setups.

----------


## DrK

*Krieger Huss*

Krieger nods to the Lady before stepping back and waiting for her to finish with the overseer. As she finished he nods. *From what the men say there is little we can do to map or prepare. I suggest a scouting expedition in the morning MiLady and then we can see what they have to fear for ourselves.*

He flicks the safety on one of the bolt pistols on and off in a nervous twitch but then waits and readies himself for the choice from the rogue trader.

----------


## Volthawk

Agares closes the book and sets it back in its place, nodding to himself. Good, good. He had a little more understanding than before, but not complete...no, that would be too easy. His gaze returns to the mysterious sphere. It was not Egarian, of course not, so then...yes. Of course. And then the maze would...of course. *"Yes, yes. We are not the first to pick through the bones. Others came here once, a species we have never known. Or perhaps did once, but forgot. It matters little for now. They came here, perhaps with the same intentions as the raven, perhaps, and now are gone, leaving signs of their passing. An accident, perhaps, or as part of a dark agenda, yet to come to fruition. Or were they wiped out by the spirits of this place? Can't determine that yet. Not enough data. Perhaps some of them yet live, cursed to wander the maze for eternity."* Agares shakes his head a little, tearing his gaze away from the artefact before looking in Jay's diection. *"And you? You have insights to contribute, yes?"*

----------


## The Glyphstone

Jay nods slowly, his blind eyes fixed on the artefacts as he follows the gentle lines of power tracing their surfaces.

"Insights, yes. The makers of these ancient devices, they drew upon the Immaterium with the very act of writing their alien words upon them. Every line an incantation, every stroke of the carving tool a prayer. The power that once burned bright within them has long faded, there is but the last feeble gasps of energy that serve only to poison the unwary with their touch."

His gaze passes over the translation codex.

"Here, the dead speak once more through the hands of those who would study them. Whispers of power surround these runes, the faintest echos of the Warp clinging to their form for all that they were carved by men and not xenos. Take care in how and when such a record is added to, lest in ignorance a spell of dread import is invoked upon it."

Finally, he comes to the green-blue sphere and flinches slightly. One hand briefly traces a gesture of warding across his frail chest. "And yet if the other shards were but the faded whispers of the dead, this one burns with the undying rage of its fallen masters. It bears the stinking miasma of xenos sorcery - perhaps younger than the rest, or else contained unimaginable power upon its creation. It knows I seek the secrets within, and calls upon its own strength to hide those truths from my sight. Be wary of this one."

----------


## Henry the 57th

Not long afterwards, near the crack of dawn, the windy desert echoes with the sounds of squealing metal and rumbling tracks, as two of the dig site's four Chimera transports rumble out of the dust-clogged gates nearest the maze-city's open entranceway. Crammed into one such vehicle are the Lady-Captain and her chosen entourage, the other occupied by a squad of Linebreakers in full kit, to secure the entranceway or provide backup as required. The best, last-minute efforts of the Overseer and Colonel notwithstanding, the inside of the painfully-standard transport is cramped, hard, bumpy, and smells like a combination of machine old and iron ore. The enormous mutant techpriest alone takes up nearly a quarter of the available space inside, and that is with him crouching just a bit. Fortunately, if the ride across the rocky desert is uncomfortable it is also briefly, the destination being a mere few hundred meters away from the camp.

When the rear-facing hatch of the Chimera swings open with a hiss and a squeal, it is to a titanic, monolithic portal that somehow seems even larger up close than it did from the safety of the campsite's walls. Back then, the semi-hexagonal archway looked to be the size of a cathedral, capable of comfortably fitting an Imperial Knight inside it. Now it could almost be mistaken for the beginnings of a hive spire in its own right, and it appears to their eyes as though a _Reaver_-class titan could stand right in the midst of its eerie, rune-etched stone frame and have ample room to spare. Next to such a monstrosity, the instinctive feeling of insignificance at the Explorers, a wordless promise that, whoever they are and whatever they have done, they are as fleeting specks compared to the builders of such magnificence, and should they dare to violate its sanctity, it will swallow them whole.

Set before the quartet, just beyond the awe-inspiring gateway, is what would appear to be a surprisingly-mundane dodecagonal atrium of yellowish-white and sandy brown stone, if not for its sheer size. Each of it's twelve identically-sized walls is centered a vastly-reduced copy of the opened exterior gateway, differentiated only by the specific patterns of the mind-numbing multitudes of runic script surrounding them, and, dozens of meters above those gates, three evenly-spaced rows on dark, rectangular portals seemingly punched directly into the stone walls. Each and every one of those thirty-six separate high openings sports identical rows of pillars so multi-sided that they can practically be called hecatontagonal, wider at the base and pinnacle and narrowest near the middle, giving them a rather disturbing resemblance to a set of closed, yellowing, monstrous teeth. Despite seeming to wholly lack any lumens or other obvious source of light, the interior appears entire illuminated by the slowly-rising sun, the stonework itself seeming to absorb and project the star's light into the maze-city, casting long shadows now facing mostly towards the west. 

In the center of it all is... nothing. Or, perhaps it should be said, there is empty space. Besides a central octogonal sinkhole surrounded by a set of oddly-stretched stairs exactly thirteen steps long, the actual interior of this army-sized atrium appears to be totally devoid of anything noteworthy. There are no support pillars, no archways, no girders or grav-engines or anything at all suggesting by what manner of xenos witchery the countless millions of tons of stone suspended directly above the vast chamber are being held aloft. There is only a veritable field of xenos hieroglyphs etched ever so lightly into the floor, arranged in countless nonsensical mazelike patterns, overlapping and blending together into a confusing, jumbled mess that one could easily spend months picking over to no avail. If there is a positive to all of this bizarre architecture, it is that the claims of monsters are appearing totally unfounded. The Explorers can easily see for hundreds of meters into the maze-city, with absolutely no obstacles to offer any hostiles any sort of cover, and not a single shrieking, shadowy beast can be seen. Merely smooth stone and freshly-arrived bits of desert dust.

Behind the small group, the iron-masked soldiers of Hyzia are emerging from their own Chimera in good order, hands clamped firmly around their lasguns or else fingering aquila-shaped talismans. The quartet's accompaniment has notably brought along more heavy weapons than are strictly standard for the Imperial Guard. Two men are holding flamers while one is toting a standard-issue plasma gun. It's clear from the way that they are hanging back just outside the titanic portal that, barring a direct order to do so, these former guardsmen don't actually wish to set foot inside the vast xenos structure.

*Spoiler: All*
Show

Give me Awareness checks, if you please.

----------


## boj0

*Spoiler: Awareness check*
Show

(1d100)[*3*]  TN 35


Captain Ravenholm steps out of the transport in her meticulously cleaned and enameled carapace armor, while the pomp and extravagance of her daily wear was enough to make a Spire Lord blush, she was no stranger to a more bloody form of claiming glory amd profit.

Edit: 3 DoS

----------


## The Glyphstone

Jay trails behind the Lady-Captain, cradling a well-used storm bolter in his hands. It looks almost too big for the frail man to carry alone, let alone wield in combat, but he holds it with the skill of a veteran even as he casts unseeing eyes across the room. As he does so, the pack on his back rustles and shifts of its own accord, before a tiny and metallic reptilian head pokes out to peer around as well.

*Spoiler*
Show


Communing with my Psychic Familiar to get Assistance on the Awareness: (1d100)[*25*] vs. 81, +1 Degree of Success on a pass.    [6 DOS]
Psyniscience: (1d100)[*40*] vs. 71.    [3 DOS]

----------


## DrK

*Krieger*

Krieger sits in the chimera the next day checking his packs, thumb stroking the ignition chamber on the massive multimelta as he looks around the interior of the chimera. As he bails out he motions to the walls to the left and right, *"You pair watch left, you pair watch right"* he barks an order to the scared looking guardsman before joining the Lady Captain's side.
*"Impressive structure. The xenos that built this must have some power and valuable xenotech somewhere in this maze."*

Pacing around the cave he glances at the entrances to the doors and chambers, lighting his glow lamps and shining them down the chambers as he glances at the floors scouting for any tracks. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Awareness (1d100)[*8*] TN 50
Survival (looking for tracks) (1d100)[*58*] TN 30




*Spoiler: Character Sheet*
Show




*Krieger Huss*



*Spoiler: Background*
Show

Frontier World [_+5 S, -5 Int, Survival, Wrangling, Leery of outsiders, Tenacious Survivalist, Xenos interactions, 7+2xTB wounds, 2 FP_
Fringe Survivor (Pitfighter) [200xp]: _+3 T or S, +3 WS, Rival (underworld), +1 CP_
Hunter (Xenos hunter) [200XP]: _+3 WS or BS, Leap up or Sprint, Scholastic Lore (Beasts) or Tracking_
Pressganged: _Trained in XXXX, COmmon Lore (XXXX); Jealous Freedom_
Exhilaration (New Horizons): [200XP] _Common Lore (Koronus expanse), Scholastic Lore (Astromancy)_


Krieger was brn on a nameless frontier world just through the "maw" in the Koronus Expanse. Living in the dusty and rusted freighter town that marked where an  unnamed Rogue Trader had set up a colony and then vanished he grew up to a mother in a brothel and no father. Strong and big for his age he quickly fell into the criminal elements acting an enforcer for a local gang and fighting in the underground pits to provide entertainment to the promethium miners that passed through and the small amount of locals who tried to keep the remaining space port vaguely serviceable.

Around his mid twenties his luck changed as he was pressganged (in the sense that he was drugged and taken aboard a passing Rogue Trader's vessel) and became part of the Crew of the _"Spiteful Vixen"_ an small iconclast destroyer with a young and foolish rogue trader named Lillian Foxglove. The Foxglove dynasty was tiny and she plunged into the edges of space searching for wealth, but instead finding madness and xenos. Staggering back to Port Wander the ship was all but wrecked and like many of the crew Kreiger abandoned Foxgloveand signed on with Baron Hauss aboard the _"Star Plunderer"_. A decade later and pirate boarding actions, subjugating frontier worlds and countless bar room brawls he was older, wiser and more experienced. Three more stints with different ships passed before he ended up aboard the XXXXXX with Lord XXXXX on his way to the Egrian Expanse. 




WS
BS
S
T
Ag
Per
Int
WP
Fel

41
38
37
37
35
32
35
35
31

+8
+13
+15
+13
+15

-5
+5


49
51
52
50
50
32
30
40
31



Fate Points: 2 / 2
Wounds: 18 / 18
Corruption: 1
Insanity:  0
AP (soak): Head 5 (10)  Body/Arms/Legs 7 (12)

*Talents*
*Spoiler: Talents*
Show

Rival (underworld) _(-10 Fel dealing with Criminal gangs)_
Sprint _(Move Ag bonus extra on Full move, Double move on Run action)_
Weapon Training (Basic universal)(Pistol universal) Melee (universal) Thrown (universal) Heavy (Melta)
Sound Constitution _+1 Wound_
Ambidextrous  _(Reduce TWF penalties by 10)_
Quick Draw  _Ready melee / basic / pistol as free action)_
Crack Shot _+2 Critical Damage ranged_ 
Sure Strike _Reverse hit locations if preferred_
Two Weapon (ballistic)  _(attack with both weapons at -10)_
Rapid Reload  _(Half reload times)_
True Grit  _(half critical damage effcts)_
Crushing Blow  _(+2 Damage with melee)_
Deadeye shot   _(Reduce called shot to -10 penalty)_
Hipshooting    _As full action  full move and shoot once on single shot)_
Killer's Eye      _(If called shot scueeds > target AB then target tales 1d5 critical effect)_
Bulging biceps   _(Count as braced for Semi/Full auto heavy weapons)_



*Skills*
*Spoiler: Skills*
Show

Awareness +20 _Int_
Medicae _Int_
Survival _Int_
Literacy _Int_
Wrangling _Int_
Scholastic Lore (Beasts +10) (Astromancy) (Tactica Imperialis) _Int_
Forbidden Lore (Pirates) _Int_
Common Lore (Koronus Expanse) (War) _Int_
Secret Tongue (Military) _Int_
Speak Language (Low Gothic) _Int_
Dodge +20 (Ag)
Acrobatics +20 _Ag_
Concealment +10 _Ag_
Silent Move +10 _Ag_
Intimidate +10 _S_





*Traits*
*Spoiler: Traits*
Show

Leer of outsiders: _-10 Fel tests with new people_
Tenacious Survivalist _Re-roll initiative (if do so must accept re-roll) _ 
Xenos Interaction: _Ignore Fear (1) and (2) when caused by Xenos_
Jealous Freedom: _React violently towards imprisonment, WP to resist_ 



*Equipment*
*Spoiler: Equipment*
Show

Bolt Pistol            _30m S/2/-  1d10+5X  4  8/8 Full Tearing_ 
Bolt Pistol            _30m S/2/-  1d10+5X  4  8/8 Full Tearing_ 
GC Mono sword    _ melee       1d10+7R  2   Balanced, +5%WS_ 
Smoke grenade    _Thown  S/-/-    Smoke  - 3/3   Smoke (common)_
Frag Grenade       _Thrown S/-/-  2d10X - 3/3   Blast 4  (Common) _ 
GC Multimelta           _60m S/3/-  4d10+5E  8  10/10  2 Full  Blast (1)  Ex. Rare_ 

Enforcer Light Carapace  _AP 5 ALL_
Subskin Armour   _+2 AP body/Arms/legs  Very Rare_

Backpack _Plentiful]_
Micro bead, Chrono _[Plentiful]_
Ration Packs (10) _Ubiquitous_
Photovisor [Scarce] _Gain Dark Sight trait_
Glow lamp (2) [Abundant] 
Clip harness  [common] _Climbing harness +3o bonus_
Grapnel [average] _100m grappling hook and monofilament wire_
Rebreather [Scarce] _Breathing mask, breathe underwater, immune gases, 1 hour /canister (3)_

Void suit
Bolt shell keepsake
Manacles

Medikit            _+20 to medicae tests_
3 doses Stimm _last 3d10 rounds ignore crit damage, ignore stunned, -20 S/T/Ag for 1 hour afterwards_
3 dose wideawake [plentiful] _Ignore fatigue for 1d5 hours, then gain +1 fatigue_



*XP Expenditure* /15000

*Spoiler: 14950 / 15000 Spent*
Show

Character Background 4500
Rank 1 (4500 - 7000) --> 7200
Background 600
Awareness 100
Forbidden Lore (pirates) 100
Ambidextrous 200
Medicae 200
Quick draw 200
BS +5 100
S +5 100
Ag +5 100
WS +5 250
T +5  250
S +10 250
Ag +10 250

Rank 2 (7200 - 10000) MANHUNTER
Silent move            200
Awareness +10       200
Concealment +10   300
Dodge +10             300
Crack shot              500
Sure strike              500
T +10                    500
Silent Move +10     300

Rank 3 (10000 - 13050)
Acrobatics                   200
Acrobatics +10            200
Awareness +20            200
Dodge +20                  300
Two Weapon (Ballistic)  200 
Crushing Blow              500
BS +10                        250
Ag +15                        500
Rapid Reload                200
WP +5                         500
True Grit                      200

Rank 4 (13050 - 15000)
Dead eye shot             200
Hip shooting                200
Bulging Biceps             500       
Heavy Weapons (Melta)   200
Killers Eye                   500
Literacy                      100
Intimidate +10            200

14950 spent / 15000 XP

----------


## Volthawk

Agares looked the same as Agares always did, his bulky robes hiding the carapace armour underneath. The hulking techpriest bristled with weapons - a power axe was fitted to one of his mechadendrites, another remaining armed with the las weaponry it always had, while one of his hands is covered by a large powerfist, modified for his size. The slung boltgun seems like something of an afterthought, just in case any trouble that comes is one he can't handle head-on.

When he sees the atrium, Agares strides into the center of it, his gaze sweeping over the muddled heiroglyphs - even to his mind, it seemed like nonsense - before looking up to take in the wider atrium. Fascinating. Perhaps there was something here, perhaps not, but he was not the one to find out. Reaching into his robes, Agares pulls out a servoskull, the thing looking strangely small in his hands, and releases it to float upwards and around the atrium.

"More eyes. It will return soon, and we will see if it captured an image of something we did not. Then, perhaps, it can look into the places we decide not to. We don't need to stay here, in any case. We must go deeper. That is where their secrets may be found."

*Spoiler*
Show


Apologies for the delay, all.

Awareness 45: (1d100)[*99*]

On the topic of servoskulls, monotask skulls were within the rarity range we were able to take in addition to our proper acquisitions, but given they're a bit more involved than just some goggles I didn't assum that I could take a bunch. Agares has one from his starting gear (with a pict-capture device, to be clear), and I guess he'll have as many more floating around (instructed to go around where they're released, take picts, then return) as fits the narrative, from no more to many.

----------


## Henry the 57th

*Spoiler: Captain Ravenholm*
Show

Looking around, it occurs to you that the walls of this dodecagonal atrium are exactly, mathematically evenly-spaced to an almost absurd degree. Each and every wall is identical, save for the exact combination of runes carved into it, including the spacing of the open, pillar-filled portals high above each open gate. Far above, the ceiling appears to be worked into a giant, almost flower-like spread of the same bewildering runic patterns, centering on a spot directly above above the center of the octagonal sinkhole in the middle of the atrium. Looking at that, it occurs to you than the runes in the center of that eight-sided pit are arranged in a much more flowing, smooth manner than that of the rigid, angular patterns seen elsewhere throughout the chamber. This culminates in outright circular swirl of the xenos script dancing around the exact center of the pit, which is uniquely barren of all glyphs or markings. Maybe standing there could somehow offer insight - or even activate something?

However, you don't see any life forms, or evidence that any have been in this chamber in a very long time.


*Spoiler: Jay*
Show

Looking around, it occurs to you that the walls of this dodecagonal atrium are exactly, mathematically evenly-spaced to an almost absurd degree. Each and every wall is identical, save for the exact combination of runes carved into it, including the spacing of the open, pillar-filled portals high above each open gate. Far above, the ceiling appears to be worked into a giant, almost flower-like spread of the same bewildering runic patterns, centering on a spot directly above above the center of the octagonal sinkhole in the middle of the atrium. Looking at that, it occurs to you than the runes in the center of that eight-sided pit are arranged in a much more flowing, smooth manner than that of the rigid, angular patterns seen elsewhere throughout the chamber. This culminates in outright circular swirl of the xenos script dancing around the exact center of the pit, which is uniquely barren of all glyphs or markings. Maybe standing there could somehow offer insight - or even activate something?

However, you don't see any life forms, or evidence that any have been in this chamber in a very long time.


*Spoiler: Krieger*
Show

Looking around, it occurs to you that the walls of this dodecagonal atrium are exactly, mathematically evenly-spaced to an almost absurd degree. Each and every wall is identical, save for the exact combination of runes carved into it, including the spacing of the open, pillar-filled portals high above each open gate. Far above, the ceiling appears to be worked into a giant, almost flower-like spread of the same bewildering runic patterns, centering on a spot directly above above the center of the octagonal sinkhole in the middle of the atrium. Looking at that, it occurs to you than the runes in the center of that eight-sided pit are arranged in a much more flowing, smooth manner than that of the rigid, angular patterns seen elsewhere throughout the chamber. This culminates in outright circular swirl of the xenos script dancing around the exact center of the pit, which is uniquely barren of all glyphs or markings. Maybe standing there could somehow offer insight - or even activate something?

Just as you're looking around some more, your eye suddenly, instinctively halts. It's very faint, and you have to squint just a bit, but on one of rectangular portals set high into the walls, you think you see something. There is, if you're not mistaken, a very faint hint of luminescent green hidden deep within the shadows of one of the tooth-like pillars. Whatever the source is, it is lurking in the second of three such portals above the open gateway in the roughly two o'clock position, a position scores of meters above you all and, most importantly, offering an absolutely unimpeded view of anyone coming in or out of the titanic entranceway. Or, for that matter, an unimpeded shot.

You do not, however, see any tracks along the floor. The stone is quite solid, and there seems to be a good deal less of the desert dust scattered across it than the consistently strong winds and wide open portal behind you would indicate.


*Spoiler: Agares*
Show

You have the misfortune to turn your head just in time for a strong gust of wind to blow a cloud of desert dust right up into your face, the grit so utterly pervasive that it somehow worms its way right past your goggles. You need to take a little bit to clear your eyes of dust and tears, and suffice it to say that you see absolutely nothing.

As to the skulls, we'll say you can have a maximum of two for right now. The one that you've sent out is not showing anything new from the angle where it floats. Just this same huge atrium with the same deep shadows from higher up.

----------


## DrK

*Krieger*

Krieger upon spying the faint green luminescence gently grabs the Rogue Trader and guides her forwards to be against the wall directly under the hole metres above to ensure she is not in line of sight. A whispered *"Ware MiLAdy, there is a portal up there and a glow of some kind. Lets get out of line of sight."* He raises his multi melta and keeps it trained on the hole in the wall and he gestures to it, shouting to the chimera crew *"Cover that. Anything fires I want it lit up. "*

Looking he glances at the various doors and then around the command crew. *"They all look the same to me. Does anyone have a preference for what we one we go through?"*

----------


## Volthawk

Agares frowns as he clears the dust and grit, waving a hand dismissively at Krieger's question. *"Bah. I see no difference which way we go. The stone here tells no secrets, we'll only be able to plan depeer inside."*

----------


## boj0

The good Captain is all too keen to grasp the mystery as quickly as she can, noticing the more organic patterns. She looks to the others, "It appears the pattern seems to have a..flow, a direction. The center of the room seems auspicious a place as any to activate something." She points to one of the men-at-arms, "You there, stand in the center, and inform us if you can see anything different from that angle."

----------


## The Glyphstone

Jay holds up a hand. "Caution, my lady. The script that surrounds us lingers with the warp-tainted power of this cursed place. The alignment of this chamber stinks of dormant ritual - I do not know what will happen when someone stands upon that spot, but we should all be wary for whatever occurs."

----------


## Henry the 57th

*"As... as you wish, my lady,"* the designated guardsman says after a moment's pause. The grey and purple armored man's face is invisible behind his iron war mask, but the way he clutches his lasgun close to his chest says enough. It takes the former Imperial Guardsman several seconds of standing around, being stared at by half his colleagues and studiously avoided by the other half, before he works up the nerve to take a step past the portal entrance.

Once he has managed to force himself inside, though, the man moves with an almost exaggerated quickness. Grey boots echoing off yellowish-white stone, lasgun held high and finger just short of squeezing the trigger, the soldier all but runs across the vast space of the atrium. The barrel of his gun swivels this way and that, tracking nothing at all, but he only picks up speed. By the time he actually descends the thirteen elongated steps surrounding the central pit he actually is running, and the remainder of his journey is an outright sprint with his rifle clutched close to his armored chest, head jerking spasmodically from this way to that.

The guardsman doesn't so much reach the designated position as combat roll onto it, clearing the last meter and half with a fluid, practiced motion that sees him atop the smooth stone on one knee, huddled to minimize his target profile, barrel of his weapon held in a firing position just above his head. For a few seconds, all that seems to happen is that unfortunate man continuing to swivel his weapon around aimlessly, looking for a target but finding nothing but more runic stone. A moment later and the four intrepid adventurers can feel a slight tremor in the heels of their boots, hear the whispering rattle of the sand scattered at their feet. Just a heartbeat after that comes the rough, pounding sound of stone grinding on stone, magnified by the tunnels around it and blasted outwards from one of the dozen opened gateway to echo easily throughout the titanic atrium. It is, the explorers pointedly notice, coming from the gateway directly beneath where Krieger pointed out the glow from high above.

Then, just as suddenly, the Ravenholm soldier, still half-crouched on the bare stone floor, lets out a low and miserable-sounding moan that echoes a good deal more than it ought in this absolutely enormous space, especially with the sounds of grinding stone still audible. His distant form spasms once, then collapses face first onto the ground, limp as an ancient Terran jellyfish. At least one oddly muffled cry of distress erupts from the other men still just outside.

----------


## Volthawk

Feeling mildly irritated at not having noticed anything here himself, Agares nonetheless watches the man's misadventure with some interest, nodding to himself when he keels over. A sacrifice demanded by this place, perhaps. Or perhaps the fate of a mind not suited to understanding what the labyrinth was telling him. Hard to tell.

In any case, he had a job to do. Agares strides out towards the center of the room, stopping a metre or so away from the limp body and whatever secrets the center of the room held. One mechadendrite, the largest one tipped with a grasping hand, extends out to grab the body, lifting it and pulling it away from the center (Agares also stepping back once he has it), while another, tipped with medical equipment - a set of injectors, a humming chainscalpel, staplers and the one system of use here, diagnostic sensors and aids - moves around the body, helping Agares in his assessment of what's going on here. It would likely be a quick check - confirm the death and move on - but perhaps not...

*Spoiler*
Show


Doing a diagnosis, confirming whether or not the guy's properly dead and if not if there's anything we can do.
Medicae 95 (Insanity 55 + 20 Training + 10 Master Chirurgeon + 10 Medicae Mechadendrite): (1d100)[*99*]

----------


## boj0

"Fascinating...", Lisette thinks to herself. She then shouts to the techpriest, "Master Agares, any indication of what caused that?"

----------


## Henry the 57th

Agares does not feel anything especially unusual as he approaches the center where the other man lies sprawled out on the stone. He experiences no particular resistance as his mechanical appendages reach into the circle of barren stone to retrieve him, nor does he experience anything unusual or burdensome as he drags the soldier clear. As he begins turning the guardsmen over to inspect him, Agares can see right away that the downed man is still breathing and has a wild and erratic but functional pulse.

*"My lady,"* the squad's leader, still too reluctant to actually step over the threshold, says to Captain Ravenholm, *"Now... you've seen... it... for yourself, you must understand... this place is cursed. We should leave here at-"*

The sergeant is cut off suddenly as one of Agares' gripping mechadendrites suddenly jerks just a fraction more severely than he meant it to. The limp soldier he is holding twists far more than a human body ought. The sound of his neck snapping somehow manages to echo far further through the atrium than the laws of physics suggest should be possible. Absolutely everyone there can hear the apparent murder of the helpless man just as if they were standing right beside the two of them.

----------


## DrK

*Krieger*

Krieger mutters a faint oath under his breath as the man collapses then watches in near revulsion as the shambling tech priest snaps the man's neck as he drags him free. *"Agares, by the throne why did you kill him?"* He trains his melta on the space above though and barks to the man who spoke, *"Xeno trickery be dammned. We'll get what is owed"* Then he glances at the tunnels trying to judge if the portals are big enough for the armourerd chimera to drive down whilst he waits for the tech priest to explain himself.

----------


## Volthawk

Agares nods to himself as examines the man. It seemed that his latter hypothesis was correct. A mind not capable of understanding what just happened to it. A deficiency in this particular mind, perhaps, or a simple fact of the differences between Egarian and human minds. Perhaps the psyker...

His musings are interrupted by the raven calling out. Ah, yes. He had a job to do here. Looking back, he calls out. *Alive. Erratic. Unprepared for the mental-"* The snap interrupts him - it's hard to read Agares, given the nature of his robes and cybernetics, but the sound almost seems to have surprised him too. He drops the body rather unceromoniously (there was little value there anymore, after all) and brings the mechadendrite around so that the manipulator is in front of him, experimentally opening and closing the mechanical hand before taking a closer look at the mechanisms involved as he returns to the others. 

*"Bah. Mechanical fault. I will find the cause. We can move on."* The concept (however true it likely was) that it was down to an accident on his part, given the monstrous strength both man and mechadendrite are capable of, seems to not cross his mind. Nor does any kind of guilt or responsibility for the man's death.

----------


## The Glyphstone

Jay sighs, entwining his fingers in the sign of the cogwheel. "The man's fate was sealed the moment he stepped across that circle. Such dark rituals inevitably demand but one payment to fuel their power - blood. His soul is with the Omnissiah now, and it is our duty to ensure his sacrifice does not prove to be in vain."

----------


## DrK

*Krieger*

As the soldiers neck snaps from the mechandrite Krieger shakes his head, a quiet *mechanical error, dont think the omnisah wants that one.* Before turning his attention to his fellow senior crew. *Glow lamps on, shall we push on?*

----------


## boj0

"Indeed, we should push forward."

----------

