From the Files of Inquisitor Kaede

Inquisitor Kaede himself.

The following is my attempt at describing the adventures of the Acolytes in a Dark Heresy campaign I run. I have taken minor liberties with some aspects of the plot to attempt to streamline the story into something more fluid and readable. However, my goal is to keep this as true to my Acolytes’ antics as possible, and that I shall do.

Chapter 1

Prologue

Inquisitor Vownus Kaede is a member of the Ordo Hereticus of the Imperial Inquisition in the Calixis sector. As is the way of one in his position, he has recently recruited a group of exceptional individuals from Imperial society to serve as Acolytes to him. They shall function as investigators and extensions of the Emperor’s will. Herein follows a collection of all obtainable documents detailing the exploits and endeavors of a particular Acolyte team, henceforth simply referred to as the Acolytes.

Episode 1

++BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION RECORDING PLAYBACK++

++7.413.998.M41. DATING HENCEFORTH MEASURED BY DAYS IN KAEDE’S SERVICE++

++NOTE: VID RECORDS LOST, CONTENTS DETAILED BY WORK OF ADEPT HOLLANUS++

++VOICE IDENT: KAEDE. FILES CLASSIFIED++

A group of people sit around a table in a moderately well-appointed room. There are 6 varying individuals seated around one hemisphere, whilst a 7th sits across from them, effectively at the head of the discussion. He speaks first.

"Hello! I'm Inquisitor Kaede, of the Ordo Hereticus. I am sure you have all been briefed on me, curiously though more thoroughly than I have been briefed on you. I know you only for your various talents. A Guardsman, a capable warrior with keen senses. An Arbitrator, Holy Lawgiver in the Emperor's name. A Tech-Priest, Adept of Mars, schooled in the arts of your Machine God. A psyker, not unlike myself, wielding the latent gifts of the mind so integral to the Imperium of Man. An assassin, an artist in the skill of precisely ending life. Finally, a bit of a rogue, a recruit from the Metallican underhive who I am told has invaluable knowledge of the environs in which the rest of you will most likely be somewhat new to. "

"You six shall form one of my Inquisitorial Acolyte Teams. I routinely recruit and commission such teams to do the work and bidding of the Holy Inquisition. Your tasks shall range from mere enforcement to investigation where you are given a rather free reign, though I will have to see to your aptitudes and the results you bring me before I can more substantially elaborate upon that. "

"First and foremost, however, I mentioned that you probably know of me better than I know of you. I would like to take this opportunity to hear briefly about your backgrounds, so that I might have a better sense of those who I send out in the Emperor's name. "

++VOICE IDENT: KOTOSE, V. SEE ATTACHED FILE. REF ARBITES++

“My name is Voleg” says the scrawny man standing in a shadowy corner of the room. He is dressed in a distinct olive drab jacket bearing the mark of the arbitrator. “I am the Arbitrator you have been seeking in order to keep order and justice in our missions for you.” He lights up a Lho Stick and takes a puff, then coughs as though it were his first. He quickly takes one of the seats and puts out his Lho Stick in his gloved hand. “I am from the dregs of this planet, saved by an Arbitrator and brought up to serve as a hand of our glorious Emperor. There is no greater honor than serving justice in the name of the Emperor. I promise to serve you to the best of my ability, or die trying.”

++VI: K++

"Excellent! I believe I knew your mother. Arbitrator Kotose was a fine servant of the Emperor indeed."

++VI: IGNACE. REF: ASSASSINORUM. FILES CLASSIFIED++

A lanky, pallid man wearing drab clothing and sitting up front stands up and says, "First of all, ye' honor, it is an absolute pleasure to be working with you. The stories of your witch-hunts were a big influence to me growing up. My name is Ignace and what you should know about me is that after my father, grandfather and uncle were all executed for being serial killers," Ignace pops a breath mint, "I decided to take the family talent into a positive direction.

I thought I was going to be stuck in the factories all my life before someone finally noticed that talent. Now I'm not much in the way of swords such as yourself, ye'honor, but if you need some flies shot off your walls," Ignace quick-draws his laspistol and mock aims, "I can do it, Emperor-willing."

++VI: K++

Kaede chuckles softly, and softly claps twice.

"I like your style, Ignace. I'm sure there are many heretical targets much larger than flies that will benefit from a good measure of Imperial Justice sighted through your cross hairs."

++VI: MAGNUS. NO FILES FOUND++

The next man to speak sits at the table at Kaede's left hand. His flesh is almost as worn as his robe, which bears the faded insignia of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, and he cradles across his knees a long cane made of human femurs. Those sitting close enough can see that his right hand grips the cane clawlike, bereft of a thumb. His left bears a challium ring on his third finger. For his age, the man radiates a surprising strength of spirit, not broken by decades of service in relaying the will of the Emperor across the galaxy. But the man's eyes are his most revealing quality: unlike the eyes of most astropaths, these swerve slowly about the room, overcast but not completely opaque, seeking out the gaze of the other acolytes.

"I am Magnus, a psyker until recently in the service of the Astra Telepathica," he begins, his voice high and thin. "In my youth I rode one of the Black Ships to Holy Terra, where the Emperor judged me worthy to serve His holy cause. The Emperor took my sight and bound me to him, giving me the knowledge to serve His will, and when I returned to my homeworld I began my life as an astropath.

"For forty years I served the Emperor with loyalty and pride. But in my sixtieth year of life I began to be visited in my dreams by a striking vision. I dreamed of the Emperor's throne on Holy Terra, bathed in radiance, and I was awed and mystified. I would awake from these dreams feeling a great sense of purpose, but to what end I could not say. These visions of the seat of the Emperor's power left me seeking a reason for such a thing--why should I, of all people, see such an image of power and beauty? It was one morning during my sixty-first year of life when I learned that reason.

"My vision had returned.”

"It was a miracle, of that much I was sure. An astropath does not mourn the loss of his sight, but to be returned it lifted my heart and made me strive further in the service of His Holiness. When I was called upon by Inquisitor Kaede to lend my abilities to a team of acolytes and grow my abilities for the betterment of the Imperium, I was ready."

Having closed his eyes as he told his story, Magnus now opens them again and gazes around the room with a smile playing about his lips and the ghost of a glimmer in his milky orbs. "It will be my honor and pleasure to execute the will of the Emperor with you."

++NOTE FROM ADEPT HOLLANUS++

Kaede made a reply to Magnus, as the vid-pict shows him speaking, however some sort of interference washed out the sound during the course of his reply. It resumed immediately afterwards.

++VI: KROL. REF: IMPERIAL GUARD. FILES ATTACHED++

There is movement in the corner, and the Guardsman sitting there clears his throat, guttural and thick. Not sitting on the chair, he crouches with feet on the seat of the chair, leaning slightly against the back and braced against the wall to keep from tipping the chair over. Pale as any hive-born from living under an impenetrable canopy of leaves, his long hair forms a stark border where it hangs lankly around his face, nut-brown with odd hints of green. Two brown eyes so dark they are almost black dart intently and swiftly around the room. Though rangy and over six feet tall, he packs little weight on his long frame, and only the corded bunching when he flexes gives a hint to the intense feral strength packed onto his spare frame. His flat features and sparse movements add to the impression of some catlike jungle animal.

He wears little, just a loose, open vest and leggings of the rough clothing issued to Inquisition conscripts. The standard-issue flak armor sits next to his chair, neatly piled up and covering a tiny collection of possessions. His entire left arm is covered with scars up to and over his shoulder, irregular patterns and symbols with no obvious meaning, occasionally crossed by a straighter and more unplanned scar of less certain origins. Matching them is a single complex sign carved into his left cheek, covering nearly a quarter of his face with the smooth ribbing of old and well-healed cuts.

As he listens to the others, he scratches at the beginnings of a newer scar, scabbed over on the side of his left wrist. It is a pattern of three lines, and by the time the first three acolytes have answered, all three have been peeled back to reveal half-knitted scar tissue underneath. When he speaks, it is in a low, warm grumble devoid of the coarse accent or low-mindedness of many ferals.

"The Emperor wanted my record to be more complete before it is offered to him" he growls, indicating his scars. "He caused me to be offered to the Inquisition as tribute, so that my record will show more worthy victories than the predators of Fedrid. There are mighty foes in this Empire, and if my blade or blood can hold them at bay, then I, Krol, am content." He grins wolfishly; when he speaks of his blade, his left hand tightens into a fist unconsciously, the tension forcing blood out through the wound he has just opened. It falls on the floor in black drops, highlighting his final promise.

++VI: K++

Kaede's eyes linger on Krol for a fleeting instant before he nods.

"It is good to see that the Emperor's light exceeds even the reach of his Adepts. I have no doubt that your skills will be invaluable to the Inquisition."

++VI: DORN. RECORD ATTACHED.++

A nervous little man dressed in rags sits uneasily in his chair, constantly flexing his hand above his auto pistol. Occasionally one side of his body twitches, seemingly at random. His eyes wide and constantly scanning the room, he looks as if he's never had a decent nights rest.

"I guess it'd be my turn", a shudder rakes over his body, "I'm uh... I'm Dorn, and uh I'll be showin' y'all the underhive. I'm sure with all the uh... experience y'all have had, the underhive might seem a piece of cake. But, it can get pretty hairy down there from time to time, so uh... try not to get shot or what have you, and I uh... we might come back in one piece. I've survived long enough down there to become of some use to the uh... Emperor".

With that he resumes scanning the room with his restless eyes and starts to grope the handle of his auto pistol.

++VI: K++

"Thank you Dorn! I'm sure your services will indeed cast you more favorably in the Emperor's Light."

++VI: RAVIA. REF: MECHANICUS. FILE CLASSIFIED.++

There is no mistaking the red-robed figure in the room. Beneath the large cowl peers a dark-skinned, grey-eyed feminine face edged by a few visible bits of brown hair. The lower half of her face is covered by a sleek, well-designed respirator unit. From this unit the vox-synthesizer emits a clear, strong voice: “I am Ravia, tech-priest of Mars.”

A hand inlaid with black electoo inductors slides a tarnished door key from her spacious red sleeve and rubs it gently. Ravia explains, “I come to you from the planet Ryboth. Since the age of six, I have been taught in the ways of the Adeptus Mechanicus. My studies under my magos have been focused on Imperial weaponry.” The key slips fluidly back into the sleeve from whence it came. “I am willing to provide my knowledge to you all and the Inquisition in any way that I can.”

Removing a phial from inside her cowl, Ravia places it on the table deliberately. “These, my colleagues, are the vile juices of a heretical tech-priest. We are all here to stop such traitors from their ignoble deeds, including the improper use of Imperial machines.” Ravia’s left eye twitches. Whether this is a hint of a bad memory or a routine mechanical spasm, none can be certain. The phial is taken back into her robes.

“No doubt it is clear that my duty is to aid you all in the use of Imperial technology. The Adeptus Mechanicus of Mars, holy servants of the God-Machine, have sent me to assist the Inquisition to the best of my abilities. My desire is to honor the Omnissiah with my work.” She gives a small nod with her hooded head and retreats her hands inside her robes.

++VI: K++

“We are grateful indeed to have an Adept of Mars on this Acolyte team. The skills you wield are a commodity unmatched in the galaxy.”

Kaede looks like he is about to go on, when there is a chime from somewhere in his clothing. He rustles in his coat for a moment, and then pulls out a small hand-held vox caster.

“Yes?” He asks it, pausing for a moment as a faint garbled reply is returned. “Very well, send him in”.

“Well,” Kaede says, looking up at the group whilst pocketing the vox caster “It seems I forgot to mention you will have another comrade, at least for your first assignment. Exactly why he is with you will be more apparent later, but I assure you it is the nature of the investigation rather than any of your backgrounds or histories.”

At this point there is a sharp rap at the door, and Kaede calls out “Enter!” He then looks at you and says “May I introduce Constantius Soranus, an esteemed representative of the Ecclesiarchy.”

++VI: C.SORANUS. REF: MINISTORUM. FILES ATTACHED.++

At these words, a man dressed in well-worn Ecclesiarchical robes enters the room. His wrinkled face, balding pate, and slight stoop make an unimpressive figure, but an enormous greataxe strapped to his back belies this initial impression and attests to a substantial reserve of hidden strength.

Looking around the room, his glance casually dismissive, he states, "I am Constantius Soranus, a cleric in the Adeptus Ministorum invested with the divine will of the God-Emperor of Mankind. There is no authority except from the Emperor, and whoever so resists the authorities resists the Emperor's will. Those who dissent bring judgment upon themselves."

Soranus' eyes glaze over as his arms rise towards the heavens, gesticulating towards some unseen splendor. His faintly quivering fingers fairly vibrate with ecstasy as he shouts, "I am not a terror to good men, but to evil! Would you be unafraid of this authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive my approval, for I am the Emperor’s servant. But if you do evil, be afraid, for I do not bear this axe in vain; I am an avenger to execute His wrath on the evildoer. In His service, I shall render unto the God-Emperor the things that are His, be it the soul of every heretic in the sector!"

His fervor temporarily abated, his arms drop heavily to his sides, and Constantius Soranus shuffles to the seat. He sits down and begins to finger an Aquila necklace, muttering softly to himself.

++VI: K++

“It is always good to have a friend from the Ministorum along when hunting heretics!

++NOTE FROM ADEPT HOLLANUS++

At this point, vox and pict-vid records of the Acolytes become so fragmented and disjointed that a simple relaying of them proves impossibly garbled. Rather, I have summarized the endeavors of the Acolytes and created a complete record. Fortunately, I was able to conduct interviews and other research to allow this documentary to proceed.

---

Episode 2

As the Acolytes all take their seats Kaede stands and, keying a sequence into a discreet keypad on the table, calls up a holo-display projected over the smooth surface and easily visible to all those seated around it.

“This is your first target” Kaede says, “He is a former preacher here on Scintilla, in the lower segments of Hive Sibellus, though some ways distant from the section we are now in.”

The holo-display shows a picture of a man, bald and with substantial frizz around the sides of his head. He has an intense look in his eyes, and is not quite looking at the pict-source.

“His name is Uriah Haxtes, and he was leading a sizable Ministorum mission trying to clean up some sections of the lower hive, specifically districts B13, C13, and D14. Riotous gangers from nearby portions of underhive have led to drops in productivity amongst the workers there, and it was Haxtes’ job to inspire faith amongst the workers and also to fend off the gangers to an extent.”

“The reason the Ordo Hereticus is involved is that we believe Haxtes has been subverted by the Dark Powers. Rumors of witch craft have surfaced from the area, as well as occasional sightings of blasphemous symbols best eradicated and not repeated. Additionally, Haxtes ceased reporting to his superiors shortly after the rumors started. His holy symbols were found discarded, and we know he is not dead due to a recent security pictograph. The final count against him is a small and subtle but distinct brand of the Ruinous Powers upon his flesh that was seen in the pictograph.”

“The area is still open and not sealed off, so your first move will probably be to simply go to the districts in question. Once there, however, you will need to search for and establish contacts, and then attempt to get a bead on Haxtes and any organization he might have. If there are rogue psykers in his employ, you will attempt to capture them if at all possible. Of the utmost importance is that you capture Haxtes alive once you have found him. Anything less than his return for complete interrogation will be considered a failure. Any other heretics working with him have already been judged worthy only of summary execution.”

Kaede glances around at the Acolytes.

“I’m confident in your abilities. You’ve shown you can handle combat, and with the combination of your talents and a little persistence investigation should not prove too taxing for you either. Are there any questions? If not, then you can proceed outside where a ground-car waits for you. It is yours for the duration of the mission, but do try to take care of it and bring it back in once piece. Stored in its navbank is a set of directions to district B13, and from there you should be able to move throughout the whole area where we suspect Haxtes is operating.”

Voleg then speaks up.

"Well, there’s time a-wasting then." He is visibly excited. "There is nothing that we can really do here. Let’s get down to the dregs and get the heads rolling, so to speak." He chuckles and stands up.

"Besides... I know someone that can help us." Voleg rises and heads over to a Vox unit and initiates communications.

"Yea, Hi mom." There is a pause with speaking on the other line.

"I just called you last week." More pausing, "Mom, I'm sorry, but I need to ask you something" Another long pause.

"I know mom. Anyway, can I come see you...? There is a situation in B13, C13, and D14" A short pause. "No Mother, I am not asking you to suit up. Please just listen. Can I come over with my colleagues?"

A longer pause "I promise to clean up, really." More talking. "Alright, well we still need to decide what we are going to do, so I will call you later." A short pause again "OK mom, I promise."

Voleg hangs up and heads back to the table. "Well my mother, who has been an Arbitrator on this planet for years, would like to help. She has intimate knowledge of the underbellies of this planet and may be of help directing us where to go. Well, what do you all think?"

"Voleg," says Ignace, "I'm not sure how carefully you choose your words, but I suggest that when you use the phrase "intimate knowledge" you think about what organs are located under the belly. Other than that, I'd love to slee... meet with this woman. Hey, can I bum a Lho stick off anybody?"

"Hey, if you want to try, be my guest" Voleg chuckles as he grabs his pack of Lho sticks and throws one at Ignace, aimed directly for his face. “She executed her last boyfriend for heresy. But seriously I think she could point us in the right direction. She has contacts in the underworld that would put the best investigators to shame."

Kaede appears to be laughing substantially before saying "I'm glad to see you developing camaraderie already! I have business to attend to off-world, so you are going to be on your own for this assignment. Mrs. Kotose might be able to help point you in the right direction to uprooting this heretical cancer in our Hive, though in my experience you have to tug at many threads before the yarns begin to unwind."

"I..." A twitch interrupts Dorn as he tries to speak, "I call shotgun."

"Inquisitor Kaede,” says Magnus, his voice slow and thoughtful, “what precautions would you advise we take during the capture and transport of this man Haxtes? If the rumors concerning witchcraft are true he may be capable of manifesting an unknown array of dark powers. In such a case, how best can we ensure safety for us, for him, and for those citizens in the hive?"

"Well Haxtes is almost certainly not a psyker,” replies Kaede, “unless his powers have manifested suddenly, which is very uncommon this late in life. If anything, he probably has a number of rogue psykers in his employ. They can be kept unconscious through an innumerable variety of means whilst you transport them here, which particular technique you use is up to you. Just vox ahead that you have inbound live psykers. Again, Haxtes will probably just need handcuffs, though you could keep him unconscious too."

Krol studies the pictograph without speaking. Presumably unused to the technology or the hive cities, his questions come slower than the others', and he appears to miss Ignace's joke entirely. The concept of tracking a prey is familiar to him, though, so eventually he pokes a bloodstained finger at the holo. "Where was that image taken? Can we track him from there? The workers may also know his usual paths."

Noticing the blood on his finger, he makes to rub it off with his other thumb. When the dried blood proves too stubborn, he begins licking it off, slowly and casually.

"Ah, yes." Kaede says. "That was taken in district B13. The location of the surveillance camera that took the pict is entered in the data-banks of the groundcar. It should be fairly easy to get there. It was a market, I believe, where he was sighted."

Ravia steps forward saying, "Excellent, then we shall take the groundcar to District B13. And although your grasp of Low Gothic appears to be lacking, Mr. Kotose, I agree that it would be wise to seek assistance from your mother."

"The tech-priest is correct," Constantius Soranus abruptly states. "Let us make haste. Reverend Haxtes has been poisoned by bitterness and bound by iniquity, the deadly fruits of fraternity with witches. We must help him repent such wicked associations, by whatever means necessary!" At these last words, Constantius Soranus' fingers twitch spasmodically.

"Well, I wish you the Emperor's Blessing," says Kaede, standing, "I must now attend to the business I mentioned earlier."

He gestures politely towards the door.

"I did not have a time-frame for this investigation, but you should send some form of a report to me in 3 standard weeks, when I return to Scintilla. Depending on the progress you have made by then I will consider whether to allocate additional resources to the Haxtes case or not. Until then!"

At that, Kaede walks out, leaving the Acolytes to their task.

Krol is moving toward the door by the time it closes behind Kaede. Reaching it, he stops and looks back.

"You keep talking about making haste, but you're all still sitting there. We're hunting him, not the other way around." He walks out the door, and heads to the groundcar.

Voleg exits behind Krol. "It is funny that you mention that... Perhaps the best way to actually catch this man is to make him come to us." He brushes his hand through his hair as he moves through the doorway. "What I think we need, is to first find out what he wants and then make him come to us. Those that commit heresy always want something else, they are not content with the glory they can bring to the Emperor."

Ravia exits the room as well, asking "So, who would like to operate this ground vehicle? And have we agreed to visit Voleg's mother?"

"I like to know all I can before going into a situation.” Says Constantius. “Mayhap we should hear what the elder Abitrator Kotose has to say."

The Acolytes all follow Krol down to the groundcar. It is a large vehicle, and is fairly discreet externally. It could be either a large passenger vehicle, a private commercial transport, or any of a number of ordinary things to the casual observer. The interior is rather spacious, with room for a driver, a passenger/spotter, and then a crew compartment in the back that can seat six. Two of the seats are outward facing consoles for the integrated cogitator systems.

Ignace takes the controls and begins to navigate them to the coordinates of Voleg’s mother’s residence the young Arbitrator has provided.

"I believe what Voleg attempted to articulate is that those who commit heresy have, by nature, found a pursuit they deem more worthy than the glorification of our God-Emperor” says Magnus, “At least to me, that is heresy incarnate--the supplanting of the Emperor's will with that of another, or of your own."

He turns to Voleg and asks, "You mentioned your mother has served for many years in the Adeptus Arbites, Voleg. Do her experiences in the underhive extend beyond riot control and pacification of dangerous elements?"

"Well, I know she cannot mention specifics of course” Voleg replies, “but I believe it to be true that she has herself made pursuits of individuals committing heresy in the name of the Emperor. But as you know, riot control is our main duty to the Emperor. The things she has taught me of the way of the Adeptus Arbites, which are not known to the general public, would surprise and shock you. That is why I feel she can help us, generally and anonymously, to catch this heretic. Nothing I know would bring her more joy than to be able to help us for the glory of the Emperor."

"To the old mother it is" Ignace says from behind the wheel of the groundcar, "Of course, I'm going to have to make a couple stops along the way for snack rations and re-caff. Emperor-willing, a half hour detour will not result in the city's downfall."

Dorn crawls into a shadowy corner of the groundcar and nestles himself in. Before nodding off, he says "Y'all sure do talk a lot. Y'all will be sure to let me know if somebody shoots in my direction, ok?”

Constantius glares about before sitting down and engaging himself with a tome and some reading.

The car arrives at the hab-block where Voleg’s mother lives without incident. She makes her home in an average section of mid-hive; elevated from the drudgery of the lower-hive factory workers, but not quite as lavish or splendid as an upper-hive spire.

Voleg, familiar with the area, leads the Acolytes inside and to his mother’s apartment. It is a well-kept but modest abode, with a sitting area that just barely accommodates the party. After greetings and introductions, Mrs. Kotose invites them all to be seated.

“So, Voleg informs me that you are doing the Emperor’s work! Think you’re up to the task? I hope so; if anything happens to my little Voley it’ll be me you account to! It isn’t all fun and games you know, running around sorting out the lower hive. I did it for almost 40 years. Forty years! The work of the Emperor is that of giving, not of getting, at least not in this life. He assures us the safety of our immortal souls and the preservation of our kind in exchange for our sacrifices.”

“Have any of you made any sacrifices yet? I gave my leg in the service of the Emperor!” She pulls up a leg of her pantsuit to the ankle, revealing a simple but clean cybernetic limb. “And that’s not all!”

At this Mrs. Kotose holds one hand out, and reaches behind her head with the other and gives herself a firm smack. The effect is to dislodge her glass eye, and propel it neatly into her open palm.

“The enemies of man tried to take my sight, but the Immortal Emperor saw fit to preserve half of it.”

She pops the eye back in with a strange squishing sound.

“Are you prepared to make sacrifices in the Emperor’s name? What is this task that has Voleg so worked up?”

Krol speaks up in a low growl. "We're hunting a heretic." He spits on the floor as if to cleanse his mouth of the word. "He was a cleric, last seen in district B13, in the market there. Word is he's got himself corrupted, and needs the light of the Emperor brought back to him."

"Since you have forty years' experience of getting around," Ignace puts emphasis on the last two words, "We had hoped for your help in finding him. In particular, we need contacts and local police that we can trust as well as intel on any possible places Haxtes and company could be hiding. That's the heretic's name, by the way. Something Haxtes."

"Uriah Haxtes," Magnus says, completing the name. "Inquisitor Kaede told us he was performing missionary work but he's gone...the term is 'AWOL,' yes?"

"Never heard of him, and while I've gotten around” at this Mrs. Kotose turns her good eye towards Ignace and pauses slightly. “-a good bit of the hive, this shouldn't surprise any of you. There are billions of people here."

Mrs. Kotose pauses, and looks up thoughtfully. Her gaze returns to the Acolytes, and they notice that the eye has been reinserted slightly askew, giving her stare a disconcerting effect.

"In any case, I had a partner who had done an investigation down in district B13 a long, long time ago. I never actually worked there, but a few times when we were out making a show of force we would head over there. He had a favorite spot to go, it was a popular watering hole called 'Oceans of Terra'. He said that's where he had always made his inquiries when he was on the job, and he had a good rapport with the owner as he had a tendency to discourage bar fights when he showed up in uniform with a shock maul on hand."

"However, ownership has undoubtedly changed at this point, so you're on your own if you do go there; I can't vouch for you there in any way. But it should be at least a starting point to get your ear on the ground, sense the rumblings."

"Well, that's a place to start, which is certainly more than we had," says Magnus. "My own leanings are to head there and canvass the place for information. Particularly, I'm interested to try and learn the location from where Haxtes was operating his missionary work. If we can learn his old base of operations it could lead further down the trail, taking us closer to Haxtes."

As he finishes his statement Magnus's eyes narrow in a way that says without saying, "and perhaps taking us closer to trouble."

At this, the Acolytes depart and head towards the Oceans of Terra. They arrive there without undue delay, and enter the bar. It is fairly busy, as the 32 hour day of Scintilla is ignored and put on a standardized 24 hour fluctuation within the hive, where all sign of day or night is artificial. Work shifts are generally divided into staggered 8-hour work shifts. This means there are always a good number of off-duty workers to feed the leisure industry on the planet, which ranges from extravagant to seedy, directly correlated to height in the hive.

The Acolytes draw a reasonable amount of attention as they walk in, with Voleg in uniform, Ravia in the unmistakable robes of a Martian Adept, and Constantius' clerical attire all standing out as above the norm. No one bothers them though, or seems to show anything other than passing interest. They are able to get a table large enough for the 7 of them, and as there are no servers it seems to be up to them to obtain drinks from the bar.

Constantius Soranus, emanating an authority augmented by his priestly vestments, saunters towards the bar. The man behind it looks up with utter apathy: "What'll it be?"

"A preacher fell to Chaos.” Growls Constantius, “Little while ago. Name was Uriah Haxtes. Colleague of mine. Don't think he was alone when it happened. Where's Haxtes?" Constantius casts his gaze around the room. "Who's working with him?" He is met with silence.

"Someone in this pit of vipers will tell me what I want to know!" Constantius Soranus accosts a nearby civilian, seizing his hand. The man yelps. "I have just broken this man’s little finger. Where is Uriah Haxtes? In the name of the Emperor, speak!"

Voleg quickly dashes to Constantius and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Hold friend, there is no need to get nasty, we are all friends here, right?" Voleg eyes the man that was just accosted. "Well friend, what do you know? I can only keep my comrade here at bay for as long as you provide us with something." He turns and smirks at Constantius. "let’s buy our new friend a drink and ask politely this time, shall we?"

However, this unfortunate run-of-the-mill worker has absolutely no idea why a Cleric is physically assaulting him, and is terrified at the prospect of having incurred the Church's wrath somehow. He babbles incoherently as the patrons around him stare, shocked.

Voleg's efforts to calm the situation are somewhat helpful, and Ignace helps settle things down as well when he walks up and tries to get involved, but between the crying and the profuse apologies nothing useful is coming out of the injured man.

However, Ravia, Krol, Constantius, and Dorn all notice a man hastily get up at the mention of Haxtes' name, and practically bolt out of the bar when the finger snaps. Ravia and Krol in particular get very good looks at the man, and could easily identify him again or pick him out of a crowd.

"Ah ha!" cries Constantius Soranus as he spots the fleeing patron, "so this hive of scum and villainy harbors at least one rat!" Turning towards his most recent victim, he intones a short prayer and thanks him for his service to the Emperor. "Go in peace my child; may the Emperor's light shine upon thee." Hot on the heels of the potential informant, Constantius Soranus exits the bar and attempts to spot the individual. He spies the suspect, but Constantius is loath to fire his autopistol into a crowd of civilians. Instead, he lunges after him, seeking to arrest the man's flight.

Krol does not like the watering hole. The weltering mass of humanity and steel is far beyond the sweltering jungle he knows. The interaction around him is readily related to the same interactions of power and place he saw among animals on Fedrid, and in fact reminds him strongly of the bustle around any reliable source of water, but the rules here are all strange to him. He glowers unhappily when Constantius breaks the scum's finger - it smacked of a weak hunter to need to show off his power that overtly.

But being detached from the main interaction has its benefits, and Krol immediately sees the scum who detaches himself as soon as Haxtes is mentioned. Prey in flight; that he understood. Before the man is even halfway out the door, Krol is hot on his heels, ready to knock him to the ground if he can catch up to him.

Ravia stands with Krol, and pursues as well. Once outside however, she stops, and feeds a flawed string of code to her vox-synthesizer. The result is an appallingly loud feedback screech. All of the civilians around her cry out and stagger as they attempt to cover their ears.

The suspicious individual nearly trips, but continues to thread his way through the crowd relatively easily, as it has not quite begun to panic. This doesn't last however, as the Acolytes begin pursuit.

Krol gets the best gain on the target, his jungle-honed hunter's reflexes keeping him hot on the trail. Ravia is in a close second, her augmetic frame still agile. The crowd in the area outside the bar is startled and frightened by the screech, and they all panic once they shake their heads clear of the ringing. Children weep, and mothers sob. People bolt randomly for perceived safety, generally clearing the street.

Constantius unfortunately gets caught in the bustle of the crowd, though he is completely un-phased by the feedback screech. He begins to press forward again, almost catching up with the pursuit. Ignace and Voleg have a pretty clear view of the crowd as it disperses, and see nothing other than terrified and confused people trying to get away from the awful noise. As the area clears out it becomes apparent that the suspect is fleeing away from the commercial area to a more industrial block of the district. Meanwhile, Dorn twitches nervously at the sound, and Magnus mutters under his breath. Both leave the bar cautiously, and watch the chase as it begins to move down the street to the end of the block.

They emerge just in time to see Ignace aiming his hunting rifle. He shakes a little, knowing that a careless miss could kill an incident member of the crowd. He mouths a short prayer under his breath, "The Emperor is with me," and then pulls the trigger. The shot punches right through the man's calf, and he cries out in agony. The shrieks of the crowd take on a different tone as the gunshot echoes off of the thick stone and metal walls of the street.

The suspect tries to keep running, but the next step is too much for him and he collapses when he puts weight on his injured leg. Krol, Ravia, and Constantius all catch up, and the rest of the Acolytes are not far behind. The man starts howling incoherently at this point, clutching at his leg near where it was shot through.

Off in the distance klaxons begin to sound, as the local police of the Magistratum have been summoned to the disturbance.

Ravia, quickly deducing possible consequences, declares, "We must make haste, the Magistratum is coming. We do not have any way to verify our Inquisitorial credentials, and we do not want to arouse any more suspicion in this area than we already have. We had best flee from this area quickly. Someone grab the captive and let us get in the ground vehicle."

Constantius Soranus clasps his hand over the man's mouth to stop the shrieking, tries to lift the suspect over his shoulders. He struggles at first, but then Krol comes to his aid. The guardsman shoots the tech-priest a dark glance, annoyed and suspicious of how she interrupted his hunt. The priest and soldier then beat a hasty retreat towards the car. As Constantius passes Ignace, he takes time to nod approvingly. "Nice shot, assassin."

As they return to the groundcar, they find Dorn already at the wheel and ready to go. The nervous hiver is familiar with the sound of Magistratum klaxons, and not eager to be around when they show up.

Voleg hops into the ground vehicle as it comes a halt. He quickly opens the doors and makes ready for all the acolytes and their catch to enter as quickly as possible. Voleg enters in a set of coordinates for Dorn to drive them to.

"We are going to my old home in the lower spire. No one will find us there."

As they try to force him into the car, the suspect begins to struggle violently. In the grip of Krol and Constantius, he’s not in a position to do much more than slow them slightly. Still, they exhibit no patience, and with a quick jab to the head from each knock him unconscious.

With Voleg’s help, they load him into the car, and shortly thereafter Magnus, Ignace, and Ravia all hop in the car. Dorn sets off quickly for Voleg’s old apartment.

While en route, the suspect begins to rouse from unconsciousness. Realizing they haven’t brought manacles or rope, Constantius quickly accosts the man and holds him in a firm grapple.

"He's coming to," says Ignace. He leans in to the prisoner. "I take it you weren't running just because you were late for a dinner meeting, eh guv'ner? I recommend you answer our questions or we may have to twist that leg right off. What can you tell us about Haxtes?”

The man glances at Ignace, and then his eyes lose focus. He starts muttering under his breath, and none of the Acolytes can quite make out what he is saying.

"I hope that you are praying to our Emperor, my friend." Voleg casually turns to the restrained man and looks him straight in the eyes.

"Now, how should I say this... Why did you run when we mentioned a certain somebody at the bar? What was his name? Can you remind me?"

Voleg gently brings his hand over the bandaged wound on the restrained individual. "When I ask you a question..." He fingers his thumb onto the new hole in the man's leg "You answer it!"

"Now you must answer truthfully or this gets worse. Again, what do you know about Haxtes? And I don't want no false praying."

Aside from his voice cracking slightly, the man shows no other reaction to Voleg’s crude interrogation. He continues to mutter, but it gets louder and gradually becomes rhythmic.

Ravia suspects that the man is most certainly muttering to a Chaos god. She reminds her comrades, "Torture is only useful for false confessions, and I would advise that we stop using it now." She then ponders another way to extract information from the suspect. Ravia decides to search the man's person for his identification credentials. She also removes some of his clothing to search for chaos brands or any other clues that could help lead the acolytes to Haxtes.

Ravia is able to find an ident-card on the man, as most citizens are required to carry one here. It reveals him to be Sawney Stern, a low-grade worker in nearby district A12 who lives in district B13. There are no immediately obvious marks on the man, who seems slightly perturbed at being stripped and starts to chant his gibberish somewhat more loudly.

Voleg searches local databases using the groundcar’s cogitator, and finds the address of Stern’s residence, specific place of employment, employment history, and birth records.

"Something is amiss here..." say Magnus. "Callous though our apprehension and treatment of this man may have been, I suspect there is a fault in his mind, to cause him to babble so. Perhaps it is not insurmountable..."

Maneuvering himself in the groundcar so that he is across from the man, Magnus attempts to make sense of the Stern's gibberish, relying predominantly on body language and facial expressions to try and communicate. During this process he recalls what he knows of the minds of the insane.

Magnus shakes his head, and shifts back to his seat in the groundcar, the whole time watching Stern closely. Those sitting next to him hear him mutter under his breath, "Who are you really, Mr. Stern? And what's so important to hide that you're making sure I can't read your mind?"

Voleg hits his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Why don't we just go to where he lives, its right here in his information." Voleg enters the new coordinates into the computer and Dorn considers whether to go to the new coordinates or not.

"That seems like a good bet," says Magnus. "If nothing else we may be able to find some family who can lead us further in our mission--perhaps they'd have information about our man Haxtes or could tell us what involvement this man Stern has. I feel I should warn everyone, though, before we undertake such a mission--this man was obviously trained at some point to be resistant to interrogation, particularly mental scans. If his kin or contacts are like him, we should make sure we're prepared to fight."

"If we do go barging into his home," said Ignace, "I suggest we don't introduce ourselves as the Inquisition. Some sort of cover would be wise, especially considering that his family may not be involved in this man's dealings. We can get the jump on them afterward."

Dorn finally speaks up, tired of the haste with which the rest of the group seems unable to break from, "I'm taking us to the first chosen destination." His twitches seem to have subsided for the time being, "We are rushing this, we've still got the loony for a while before his disappearance. Care has to be taken when we decide to go snooping around his place, I want this planned."

Back in the crew compartment, Stern is sitting in his undergarments, eyes closed, chanting in a normal voice now, still the same gibberish as before. Constantius has him in a good immobilizing hold, but the man is not resisting that at all. The Acolytes sit listening to the chanting as they approach Voleg’s apartment, unnerved but unsure of what to do.