Out of the frying pan... Chapter 1 - IC

You move off, time to investigate the dead bodies found in the habitation decks of the ship. You’re met at a bulkhead by some militia, ordinary shipmates armed with las-carbines and batons and wearing a red sash across their chests signifying their role on the ship. The senior voidsman of the group introduces herself as Litisha, there is some communication with the bridge and the bulkhead door makes a hissing noise and then hydraulics activate, the foot thick door slides upwards into the ceiling. You walk and talk as Litisha leads you through a bustling habitation area and then down into a service tunnel which is eerily quiet, with your voices and footfall echoing down the tunnels. Litisha does not have much to tell you; four bodies discovered by her team on a sweep about thirty minutes ago. There are no witnesses that have come forward.

A stretch of tunnel is cordoned off with two militia stood guard and you can see four bodies beyond. Three of them have clearly been killed by violence; the first body has had both arms broken at the elbows and its face a bloody pulpy mess. The second lays face down with a large spanner embedded in the back of its skull. The third body is slummed against a wall, at head height there is a large blood stain with matted bits of hair and what you assume is brain matter. The final body the one furthest away from the others is naked with ugly purple bruises arounds its neck, the clothes no where in sight.

There is a slight musky smell in the air; it is sweet and sickly and catches at the back of your throats.

"Thank you, Litisha," says Philomena, nodding at the senior voidsman.

For a brief moment, Philomena closes her eyes. Her senses extend beyond her immediate surrounding, feeling for the daemonhost's presence, trying to perceive a thread of fate that would lead from here to it, but the Hab deck is noisy with presence of others. Their feelings, their wants, their needs, all join together into a cacophony reflected in the Warp, masking the creature's presence. Philomena returns her attention to the here and now.

She starts to walk around the scene, careful not to step in any evidence. She crouches near the bodies, looking for signs of claws or any other sign that could confirm that this crime was committed by their quarry. Tempers could run hot in the confines of a ship and murders amongst its crew wasn't an unheard of event. If this was a false lead, they had to find out quickly so as not to waste any time.

Severine gave thanks to each of the militia that they passed, along with short prayers to the Emperor in an effort to keep spirits up and heretical thoughts at bay, for now.
"We appreciate your help, Litisha." She made the sign of the Aquila over her heart in a quick, obviously very practiced motion and nodded, rising again with a curious look around the hallway. "Has that smell been present since you arrived? Was it any stronger before? And... That man there, are there sleeping areas nearby? Or showers? Why is he naked?" She looked to the senior voidsman briefly, waiting for a response.

If she had to wait long, or afterwards, she once more surveyed the space. Severine seemed especially concerned about the naked body. The others were 'normal', simple physical violence and death. But the naked one was only bruised, and his clothes were nowhere to be seen. The smell was concerning as well.

She moved through the scene, avoiding any of the bodies barring the final, naked one. She attempted to quickly survey it, looking to see if she could find a specific cause of death if one was indicated by the bruises - or to see if they were simply a distraction, and the real cause was something else.

Looking about the grizzly scene Lokar fixes his gaze on the naked victim.

Looks like our, err, escaped prisoner, is now dressed like a crew member. Shame, I was hoping 'it' was as thick as two short clubs. Strangulation kills without spilling blood over the victim's clothing. It's what I would of done if I needed a disguise. Still, there are only bruises around the neck, could be alive.

Lokar strides over and kicks the naked victim in the gut.

Hey buddy!, you alive!?... No?

He kicks the victim again.

I think there dead.

This is going to be like hunting for a thorn beast in a thicket.

Spits..

"Yeah I noticed the smell" Litisha replies to Severine "It was definitely stronger when we first got here, almost made Wilson gag" she nods to one of her men.

"It appears you're right, Lokar" says Philomena as she uses her staff to lift a simple sack cloth tunic discarded near the naked man. "Our quarry is attempting to blend in. Still, even with a costume, a stranger will stand out in a small community like this hab block."

She stands back up from her crouched position and dusts herself off. "We should question the inhabitants. Perhaps our 'stranger' has been seen. Or smelled," she adds, her distaste for the pungent scent permeating the air plainly apparent.

"I see... The smell concerns me. It feels like the work of the demon, and an indication of what type of demon it is but I do not know enough to divine how." Severine let a flicker of a frown cross her face, something serious rather than sad. She nodded to Litisha and then Philomena.

"I agree, we should question anyone in the surrounding area until we find its path. Do the paths branch at all, here? Or is it only one hallway with rooms connected? We can split into two groups, and with the Emperor's grace we may have a chance of finding our prey faster than as a slow moving larger group. Unless any of you have a better option."

Severine moved to check the nearby hallways, seeing if there was any further sign of the creature moving through any of them. She then turned and waited for the input of the others, they were more familiar with the ship and their Inquisitor, they would know what to do.

[With the Priest]

Felyx listened to the man prattle on about being a worthless cunt. It was fitting. Everyone on this ship, up to this point, with the exception of Damiel and shocking Donna, had been a worthless cunt. Patterns repeat themselves.

He rolled forward, riding Second Serving like a glorious steed, his left hand on one of the girthy servitor's shoulders while the other cradled the mancatcher.

"Broken cogs stopping entire machine. They are to having one function; just one functions. Often not fixing cog, but to replacing it easiest. I suggesting to fixing your cog, Emperor-Priest. May having needs of you before end."

His eyes never blinked, only his crazed smile gave any sort of indication he was done speaking.

++++++++

[Meeting Severine]

Felyx's eyes widened slightly as the Sororitas approached. His faith in the Machine God often started and stopped at his own abilities with some slight caveats made moments away from death, or throwing handmade fuckboy-bombs into the mouth of a daemon corrupted STC. But this felt like a gift.

Blessed be your shiny metals, perfect alloys, and slippy lubricants, Machine God.

Emperor, zero. Omnissiah, one. He says in a screech of binary.

But as she starts speaking in a form of High Gothic Felyx could only describe as "pretentious," he raised half his upper lip in frustration. His Calculus-Logis implant translated it immediately into machine-cant, but he had no desire to respond back in such a speech pattern.

He rolled up to her as introductions were being made. In his clearest outside voice, he simply hollered "WHAT" when she finished.


++++++++

[At the murder scene]

Felyx took it all in. He had ridden alongside the rest, sticking to the middle - sticking to Damiel - and keeping quiet. He let them talk. New people always felt like they had to talk so much, to get everything out, to be known and accepted as individuals. He didn't understand the point, especially now when at least two of them were going to be pulled limb from limb by a daemon.

He looked at the two and chuckled. Then looked at Damien with a face that said, "am I right?" Damiel likely had no fucking clue what the tech priest was gesturing about.

Felyx responded to Severine's querry about the daemon they were facing. "Slaaneshi whore is daemon being. Sexy butt-addict is likely, but vanity above all else. Familiar with these? Slaaneshi whores, I am meanings."

He then addressed Litisha. "Where is being closest bar, fuck-den, larger vox broadcast area, dancing hall, billiards room, and or painting studios to our current locations?"

[Severine's Original Introduction]

The Sister looked at the tech priest as he approached her carried by a servitor of some sort. She arched a brow, her self-assured smile holding even as she shouted more or less directly into her face.
Severine cleared her throat, and spoke back in Low Gothic similar to what he seemed to prefer based on his accent.

Her own Low Gothic was accented slightly, carrying with it that tinge of more formal upbringings.
"If you cleaned the incense out of your ears, tech priest, you'd have heard what I said. Inquisitor Maud asked my order for help, and my superiors sent me to answer that call." She made a show of sizing him up, more than ready to get into a dick measuring contest if that's what it took.
"And given the state of you, tech priest, I can see why she thought it would be necessary."

She paused, still smiling. To her it was clearly all in good fun still. She continued in Low Gothic, for his benefit. "I am Sister Severine Veneria, and based on what your much more... Eloquent friend said, we have a demonhost to deal with."

+++++++++++

[Murder Scene]

Severine grimaced as the name of a chaos god was just... Tossed out like it was nothing."I know the agents of chaos. I am familiar with 'Slaaneshi whores' as well. That's why I asked about the smell. Pheramones or musk. Do you all have helmets? Or anything to cover your noses. Apart from that there is always flame. I may be able to burn it out of the air with incense and promethium."

Philomena looks in her bag and takes out a pair of filtration plugs. "I have these," she says, before inserting them in her nostrils. She takes a few deep breaths, then smiles slightly as the awful smell fades from her senses. "I also have a rebreather, but its supply is limited."

"Felyx?" She says as she turns to the obnoxious Tech-priest. "Could you use an Auspex to track our quarry by its scent? If you don't have one, I can lend you mine. I'm afraid its more arcane functions escape me," she says, smiling ruefully. Men generally loved to help a damsel in distress, if only to flaunt their "skill". Mina presumed Felyx would too, following a suitably disparaging comment, as he seemed incapable of passing up an opportunity to be rude.

[Meeting Severine]

Felyx didn't respond to a single word Severine said. He simply logged it away. The opportunity to use people's words against them in their most desperate moments were one of the few joys in life.

He did look down at himself after her last dig. Fresh clothes, pristine servitor, well armored and kitted out. He thought he looked good. He would have to have a word with the dry cleaner.


++++++++

[Present Moment]

Felyx too takes out a set of filtration plugs and puts them in. He was waiting for Litisha to answer his questions. Mentally, he took note of Severine's holier-than-thou attitude in regards to him knowing more about this current daemon than her.

Surely, that could not have been all it took to get under her skin?

He replied simply, "Apologies. I was not realizing you already had the answers my previous researches on this daemons had shown. I am being exciting to see you in the actions, Severine-Gun Nun." He bowed deeply.

EDIT: "Perhaps if you are not to dying soon, I can teach to you Auspex things... and stuff, Philo, Predictor of Stuff and Things." The lanky more-man-than-machine, atypical tech priest locked the mancatcher to a hold on Second Serving's back plate and pulled out an auspex, gesturing quickly to Philomena with a nod that he had his own.

He quickly links his combi-tool to the hand-held machine, running another line into a port on the back of the servitor's neck. Gently, he begins sweeping left and right as the arms rose and dropped, looking for a signal.

After a few moments of this, he looks to the group and shakes his head. "Slaaneshi-whore being.... elusives."

Philomena blinks, surprised by Felyx's offer to teach her. It was... almost sweet, in a way. "Should I survive, I will take you up on that."

When his efforts with the Auspex come up short, she simply nods. "Very well, we'll just have to ask around, then," she says, matter-of-factly.

"I had guesses, not answers. You guessing the same thing was enough for me to feel confident." Severine shrugged, watching the others get to work investigating the scene. Her attempts to investigate medically had turned up little, unfortunately...

"I'll come with you, Lady Phiolomena. If that is acceptable. I'm afraid there's little more I can do in the crime scene itself."

Philomena nods at Sister Severine. "Truth be told, I would feel much safer in your company. Thank you, Sister. Let's start with the residences near the tunnel's exits, shall we?"

Picking at random, Mina heads off down one of the tunnel's branches. When she emerges, she looks for potential witnesses by knocking on doors and approaching passerbys. With the Sister at her side, getting people's attention is easy. Mina remains polite and charming, doing her best to put the residents of Habitation sector 5 at ease as she looks for information about their quarry.

"Of course, Lady Philomena." Severine nodded to her, following behind the woman as she searched through the sector.
Severine made a point of holding herself even more formally than usual, her bearing nearing something regal and undoubtedly pious. She knew the effect Sisters of Battle had on the common people of the Imperium, and did her best to invoke that as much as possible to make Philomena's questioning easier.

Felyx climbed Second Serving and waited patiently for Litisha to answer his questions before rushing off.

Iron and Metal wrote:

"Where is being closest bar, fuck-den, larger vox broadcast area, dancing hall, billiards room, and or painting studios to our current locations?"

"There is an entertainments area in each hab sector, you'll find them in the central areas, middle decks in general. I can have someone take you there if you wish?"

Severine was causing Lokar a problem. First taking over on point and now stepping all over his agreement to protect Philomena. He felt that he should assert himself and clearly mark his territory. On the other hand, she looked like she could put up one hell of a fight if it came to blows and he couldn't be sure what the outcome of that would be. He decided that Severine could wait, better to watch her for weaknesses before openly challenging her. For now he could forget about it and get a drink. He hadn't tasted ale in many moons past.

I'm feeling a little parched.

Damiel looked over the scene intently, though it was plain he had little knowledge of what to look for. He had been trained to deal with psionic children, not daemonhosts, and he liked it that way.

As the acolytes decided to split, Damiel knew he'd only be a burden to anyone looking to ask questions directly, and had decided to move to the entertainments district with Felyx.

His nostrils flare and his mouth is turned down at the stench, he only opens it to speak quickly to Litisha. "No, Litisha, we'll make our own way. I don't want anyone seeing us working with the militia. Thank you for the assistance you've given us so far."

He moves with Felyx to make way to the entertainments district, nodding to Lokar as they go. "Why don't you lag behind a short ways. The daemonhost can likely recognize your presence, it may blow our surprise. I'll take point. Ready?"

The disrespect wasn't lost on Lokar, nor was the fact that Damiel had a point.

Good idea, keep your best warrior back as an ace card to play, that way they will underestimate you.

Lokar fakes a smile while taking care not to look at Damiel directly, every time he did it turned his stomach.

Felyx mounted the servitor unit rolling around the bodies not for any sign of respect for the dead, but because he did not want to have to clean meat and gristle out of the treads later. It was interesting to him that they were splitting up; in his experience, that usually ended terribly. Not to mention, his leads were based on information taken directly from the Inquisitor herself - the same Inquisitor who had studied this Daemonhost for as long as she had had it prisoner.

Asking around seemed a waste of time - and more importantly - a waste of two bodies to stand between Felyx and the Daemonhost when they inevitably met up with it first.

He trailed behind as Damiel led the way out.

+++ Habitation Sector 5 – Entertainments Hub +++

Moving through the entertainments hub towards the nearest bar Lokar, Felyx and Damiel note that all seems normal with crewman moving around, chatting amongst themselves and sampling the simple delights of the area. As you pass crewman any overheard conversation of note is around the lockdown; how long it might take and why it was announced during warp travel, it seemed unusual but the conversation wasn’t concerning. Crewman just spitballing. It looked like the militia had done a good job of keeping quiet about the nearby killings. The first bar you come to has a flickering pink neon light over its entrance displaying the legend ‘Frank’, it looks busy with punters spilling out into the area outside.

The place is heaving, lots of people are standing so not possible to get a good look around from one place. The queue at the bar is two deep. You split up and move about the crowd… all seems normal.


+++ Habitation Sector 5 +++

The level directly above the service tunnels for Sector 5 is busy with crew moving in and out of communal and also bunk areas socialising, some children are seen running about playing some game of hide and seek. Severine stands out like a sore thumb and people take note that there is an Adepta Sororitas on their deck, Philomena doesn’t even get a second glance. Some people come forward asking for blessings and prayers, some just want to touch one who in their eyes is no doubt so holy. While Severine fends off the attention Philomena is able to discreetly ask around if anyone has seen any strangers about and in the main the crew who she speaks to haven’t. At least anyone odd and certainly no one who has just taken up residence next door. Over a thousand people live in this sector so there cannot help be someone who is a stranger to someone else. There are many closed hab doors, with people perhaps sleeping or wanting some quiet time so there are many potential hiding places if the deamonhost had managed to pass through here without drawing attention.

Severine took the time to pray with each and every person who came up to her, sometimes in groups and sometimes alone. She wanted the people to feel the Emperor's light, what little she was able to bestow at least. Maybe it would protect them from the Daemon.

When she was able to get a moment with Philomena, she whispered to the woman quietly. "Have you had any luck? I fear that unless we lock down the entire vessel it will be nearly impossible to find this creature within areas as crowded as these. But that would cause a panic." She rubbed the back of her head, muttering further prayers to the Emperor. "See if the others have found anything. Or... Perhaps we can find an image of our target, and see if any have seen him specifically?"

In full battle gear Lokar pushes his way to the bar ignoring any objections from the common rabble and slams his fist down on the bar.

Barkeep! a tankard of your finest ale!

He had no idea what would pass for currency and being let out of his cell early wasn't given any Credits, Crowns, Aquilas, Thrones or Scrip.

Once she'd managed to pull their attention away from Severine, the inhabitants of Habitation Sector 5 were all too happy to talk to Philomena. She had heard about all about an older worker's aches and pains. Another worker had shown her dozens of picts of his daughter. Countless others had petitioned her for faster access to the Sister for a blessing. Philomena had been drowned in platitudes and negative answers to her inquiries about her quarry.

As the latest influx of people begin to disperse, she sees Severine approach her.

AbstractCloud1 wrote:

When she was able to get a moment with Philomena, she whispered to the woman quietly. "Have you had any luck? I fear that unless we lock down the entire vessel it will be nearly impossible to find this creature within areas as crowded as these. But that would cause a panic." She rubbed the back of her head, muttering further prayers to the Emperor. "See if the others have found anything. Or... Perhaps we can find an image of our target, and see if any have seen him specifically?"

Philomena smiles as smile she doesn't feel. "The only thing I've learned is that if ignorance is bliss, these people must be the happiest in the whole galaxy." She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "That was unkind. Forgive my frustration, Sister." She looks up at Severine. "Let us find the others. Hopefully, they have had more success. If not, then perhaps Felyx has a picture from our Liege's file that he has neglected to mention and we can try questioning the locals again."

Severine nodded, moving past the rudeness without taking any obvious issue with it. "Agreed. Please, lead on my Lady. I'll make sure we're safe on the way there. The people here... Are ignorant, yes, but it is in the Emperor's interests for them to be. People panic easily, and fall to corruption even more so without strong enough faith and wills. So while it is annoying -" She chuckled, shaking her head as they walked. "So while it is annoying that they are oh so very unhelpful, it's better this way."

Philomena smiles, genuinely this time. "Blessed is the mind too small for doubt," she says, quoting the old adage she'd learned from one of her tutors. The Sister was right, of course. A panic would only benefit the Adversary. She was right about the picture too.

She takes out her fan. She uses it to hide her lips from any observer as she fans herself. Keeping her voice low, she says: "If we can get a picture, we could broadcast it - keeping our quarry's true nature secret, of course. We could say he's a murderer, which is true - and we'd gain thousands of eyes. This might be good for these people, too. A suspicious mind is a healthy mind, after all." Maud had taught her that one.

Severine chuckled once more, her heavy footfalls trail close behind Philomena as she walked.
"Agreed. That will be our best chance to locate him in such a sprawling ship. However... Those who see him right away may be killed, we will need to act quickly on any information we receive."

Her armor gave soft hisses as she rolled her shoulders. "A good quote, that one. The fan really makes it dramatic. Very fitting, my Lady... If I may. I would like to know more about the others in your group. What can I expect from them? What do they respect?"

Philomena snaps her fan closed with a flourish. "Dramatic? ME?!" she says with mock outrage. "Why, I never!"

She keeps up the scandalized expression for a moment, before cracking a smile. "The others... I can't say I know them much. Inquisitor Grimm has briefed me, of course, but I only met most of them recently."

"Felyx is a tech-priest. He's direct and I suspect he'd respond to the same. If he's somewhat like his kin, then he'll respect competence and efficiency."

"Donna used to be a hive ganger. She's cunning, but lacks refinement. Give as good as you get and you should earn some modicum of respect."

"Damiel," she says, suppressing a shudder, "is an Untouchable. A psychic null. People tend to be unsettled by his kind. I suspect he hasn't been shown much kindness in his life. I suspect he'd respond positively to it. He hasn't said much since we met, so I can't say much more." Philomena pauses, wrestling with the shame she feels at how she's treated the man so far. She resolves to try to better contain the revulsion she feels when she lays eyes on him.

"Lokar, I know a bit better. He was recruited by the Inquisitor from a feral world and I have assisted in his education and care. Understandably, he has some archaic beliefs and mannerisms. He respects strength above all things. Show your prowess in battle and he will respect you."

She walks a few steps in silence. "Don't take my word for Gospel, though. As I said, I do not know any of them well." She smiles ruefully. "We haven't had much time to socialize."

Severine seemed to take mental notes for each person, nodding her head just slightly after every description as she filed that information away. Nothing she hadn't generally guessed already from the brief time she'd spent with them, at least. "Ahhh, you're a newly combined group then. Sister Superior did not have the time to brief me on the Inquisitor or her acolytes before I was sent here, I assumed you had been together for quite some time."

The sister fingered the activation rune on her two hand flamers as they walked, not drawing them but keeping the weapons close at hand in case they were jumped. One could never be idle in the face of daemons, they were a clever foe.

"And our target? He was made intentionally I assume? The Gellar field is intact or this ship would not be so peaceful. Do we know anything about him or the... Creature bound to his flesh? Beyond what you have already mentioned, of course."

Damiel led Felyx to the entertainments sector, dragging Lokar a good distance behind. As soon as they found their way, Damiel watches Lokar enter the bar and immediately make way to the barkeep. He shakes his head but offers little other judgement. He looks back to Felyx atop the servitor and asks, "Anything particularly terrifying popping out from up there?"

AbstractCloud1 wrote:

"And our target? He was made intentionally I assume? The Gellar field is intact or this ship would not be so peaceful. Do we know anything about him or the... Creature bound to his flesh? Beyond what you have already mentioned, of course."

Philomena shakes her head. "It was already in the Inquisitor's possession when I came into her service. She was very secretive about it. I'm afraid I know nothing beyond what Felyx has already shared."

Severine grunted, shrugging one shoulder. "Then we trust the Emperor to provide what information we need to handle the threat of this creature. The Emperor Protects." The last piece of her sentence seemed to come as an instinct, a thoroughly drilled-in mantra.

With that, Severine would walk in silence as they moved towards the others of their group. Unless Philomena had more to say.

Neriglissar wrote:

Barkeep! a tankard of your finest ale!
He had no idea what would pass for currency and being let out of his cell early wasn't given any Credits, Crowns, Aquilas, Thrones or Scrip.

A man behind the bar hands Lokar a token with the number '1' stamped on it and a battered metal mug with some sour smelling clear liquid within. Seeing the obvious stranger looking at the token curiously the man leans forwards to be heard above the crowd "You get four drinks a day. Hand the token in when you want yer second." With many crewman waiting to be served he doesn't wait for any understanding and moves away.

Murcurie wrote:

He looks back to Felyx atop the servitor and asks, "Anything particularly terrifying popping out from up there?"

Felyx has a good view around the bar, at least a head taller than the crowd while mounted on his servitor. Data from the Inquisitors cogitator was still being analysed by his internal systems; there was lots of interesting information on Maud’s pursuits, some of them definitely questionable depending on your point of view but nothing on the appearance of this deamonhost. However there was a wealth of information on binding a deamon to a host and one useful nugget of information he’d found was that he was reasonably certain the host would be covered in hexagramic runes, either tattooed or perhaps scarred into the flesh. From what Felyx could see there was no one hiding under a hat or hooded cloak.

As Philomena and Severine arrive in the entertainment hub the whole world is thrown upside down. The very air seems to wobble as though seen through a heat haze, which is accompanied by a hot and stuffy wind which smells sweet and sickly. Its then as though the air tears itself apart revealing another place. In the distance is what must be some kind of fortress although it is formed like no other you have seen before, around it is a skeletal wood where the trees bear plump and overripe fruit. There is a multitude of whispers on the air promising to fulfil your every desire and some you didn’t even realise you had. You notice that it is the fruit tempting you as each one bears a face caught in rapture, each one whispering a different desire or excess. The cacophony makes you light headed and threatens your sanity. As your startled gazes sweep the landscape you lock eyes with a deamon who attends the ‘garden’, its androgynous face is both horrifying and seductive, it is tall and lithe and stirs dark thoughts in your minds. It smiles at you, its forked tongue flickering over its lips…



… reality then reasserted itself. It is immediately obvious that this was a shared experience for you all and the crew in the area. Some of them look around in confusion, others cry and shout in alarm and some curl up in a ball and rock back and forth. One man in the bar clutches at his chest and falls to a heap on the floor.

Stunned and confused Lokar looks at the barman only to have him stare back with a similar look of bewilderment.

Barkeep, I'll be needing another drink now!. the barman just stares at him wide-eyed. On second thought forget it, you will take too long.

Securing his beer token in a belt pouch he turns to the smallest man nearby with a full drink, snatches it from him, and downs it in one. Then shoving the man aside he swiftly makes his way back towards his companions.

Philomena stops walking. Her pulse has jumped to breakneck speed, her breathing is shallow, her eyes are wide. She looks around nervously, clutching her staff tightly and draws closer to Severine, seeking some sort of fleeting feeling of safety from the Sister's proximity.

"We're running out of time..." she mutters, as a feeling of doom washes over her. The "event" seems to have affected everyone in their vicinity. Seeing the effect it had on her, a trained Acolyte, she worries that some of the civilians around them could have succumbed to the daemon's influence.

Severine raised her flamers as the horrible vision played out, ready to open fire but also not sure if the vision was reality or not. The risk of hitting innocents was too high. Instead she raised one to her back, where the braziers were affixed to her armor. She lit them with the pilot light of the hand flamer, and as they roared to life she began a prayer - shouting it as loud as she could in the face of the daemonic vision.

"From the lightning and the tempest. Our Emperor, deliver us." Despite the prayers and the flames on her back, she too had stopped walking when Philomena did. She stepped closer to the woman, offering what she hoped was the safety of her presence.
"From plague, temptation and war. Our Emperor, deliver us. From the scourge of the Kraken. Our Emperor, deliver us. The vision began to fade. She sighed with relief, before spotting the state of the crewmen in the entertainment hub before her.

Severine placed on armored hand on Philomena's shoulder, hearing the woman's fear. The next line of the prayer was spoken directly at Philomena, Severine holding eye contact with the woman as she spoke it. "From the blasphemy of the Fallen. Our Emperor, deliver us."

She let go, and moved into the room. She went for the most central place she could find, trying to ensure as many members of the crew could hear and see her as possible. She spoke one final line of the prayer, yelling to be heard over the clamour of the room. "From the begetting of daemons. Our Emperor, deliver us."

And then she flipped to speaking orders instead, attempting to prevent any panic from spreading through the ship, and to give the crewmen something to focus on other than the vision they had just seen. "Men and women of the Imperium, rally yourselves. Gather here, in the central area. Orderly lines, at attention. Now!" The intent was two-fold now. First, moving everyone centrally allowed them all to bolster eachother's courage. Second, if the daemon was in the room with them, it would be obvious if he tried to slip away. At least in theory.

From there it would be up to the others to see if their prey was in the room, Severine would keep the people busy.

Philomena tenses up, startled when Severine places a hand on her shoulder. The Sister's prayer helps, though, and she relaxes slightly. She still feels the terror, but there's comfort in knowing she isn't facing it alone.

Heresy begets Retribution. The words come into her mind unbidden. She had heard them before, when she had drawn the Emperor's Tarot after being assigned to Inquisitor Grimm's service. She hadn't been sure of their meaning then. She wasn't certain now. Divination was an art, not a science.

Doubt will only lead to damnation. You must certain at all times. Your will unbending and inflexible. This was what she had been taught at the Scholastia Psykana. Harsh lessons learned at great cost. The Divination could only mean one thing: I am the Retribution. To accept anything else was to gamble with her eternal soul.

As the Sister shepherds the frightened residents of the Habitation sector, Philomena reaches out with her psychic senses. If the perpetrator of this blasphemy was near, she would find it.

Following the warp echoes from such a demonstration of power takes but a moment. She activates her mirco-bead, connecting to the other Acolytes. "It came from the Observation Deck."

[At the Bar]

Felyx watched briefly as Lokar approached the bar. When it didn't look like he was going to start hacking the barman to pieces for using a cup to convey the alcohol rather than pouring it straight from the tap into the barbarian's mouth, he changed his focus.

He smiled at Damiel psychotically. Just a normal Felyx face, and surveyed the bar area, ignoring anyone who cared about a strange man riding a tracked servitor unit.

"Be keeping the eyes out for runes on flesh - tattoos or scarrings. Keeps D-man's bound to flesh. Maud, good at what she was doing - perhaps britches were being too big? Hubris. Pride. Simple mistakes - takes care to maintain the disciplines."

He kept surveying the room, then focused back on the bar. "Maybe fecal-hair barbarian friend can ask barkeep?"

Inwardly, the tech priest kept processing info, hoping for a nugget that would grant him further clarity...

...then Hell itself came to them.

The Warp spawned fever dream seemed to affect everyone. Well, everyone except Second Serving. He felt the fear affect him.

Hmm... that's new.

Catching up to his companions Lokar speaks.

We all saw that right?

Without waiting for confirmation he assumes that he is the center of attention and decides to tell a tale.

I know of this spirit, or as you would say daemon. Back home we call them the Revel Rulers. Some men would envoke one such as this when he took a new wife. He would ask for its blessings, could be many sons, a wife that did things in bed that his other wives didn't, or perhaps just a great revel that night, and such. In return, there is always a price to be bartered and this is where you must be most careful because this is a tricky daemon. Amongst my peoples there is the cautionary tale of a failed clan where their leader took a new wife into his harem and invoked the spirit of lust for his wedding night. During the festivities he ended up mating with his own daughter, and of course she got pregnant and ran away to have the child, and of course her father hunted her down and killed her. In doing so he angered his first wife and her warlord father, the infighting that followed destroyed the clan. Be careful, such a daemon will make your most secret desires into weapons turned against you.

The young feral wondered if there was a cautionary tale back home about his failed clan.

Philomena frowns, but quickly relaxes her face muscles. Don't frown! You'll get frown lines. Rejuvenat doesn't grow on tress, dear, her au pair used to say. Frown lines could actually be an asset to a member of the Inquisition. It would make one look more stern. However, the conditioning was hard to shake.

She was concerned by the lack of an answer to her transmission. She had a lead on their quarry. The others should have jumped at the chance. Were they not wearing their micro-beads? Were they not in a position to answer? Had they been attacked?

"Did anyone hear me? The psychic phenomenon came from the Observation Deck," she says over the micro-bead's commlink, the dread she was feeling spilling slightly into her tone.

"Understood, Lady Philomena. Give me a moment to get these people under control, we cannot allow any thoughts of heresy to take root in a moment of weakness. If an officer gets here then I'll be joining you momentarily." Severine continued to guide the crew into the orderly lines she had requested, the flames burning on her back casting her face in stern shadows.

If she spotted any officers amongst the people, she stepped aside to let them take charge, with the additional request that they keep an eye out for any deviant behavior after the episode, and execute those who are too far gone to save.

If that could be done, she would meet up with Philomena again. "Show me the way to the Observation deck, I can be the head of the spear once your comrades arrive."

Damiel stared into the void, all at once intrigued and cautious. Such things weren't new to him, but that which he knew scratched at the minds of the children he once guarded always brought him a new respect for those tortured souls. His truest essence hoped to see a familiar face among the fruit. He hoped for some closure to all the horrors he'd held at bay, or souls he'd failed to protect; some new direction to pursue, or cause to fight harder. He almost didn't realize the true nature of the rift until it had closed. An ache made Damiel rub at his covered palms, the toothy maws hiding beneath were salivating, gnashing gently.

He steeled himself, returning to reality. He looked over to Felyx, then to Lokar, as each spoke in turn. Lokar seemed suspiciously knowledgeable. His people would invoke Daemons? What hell did Lokar and his people unleash upon this galaxy?

"I'd be happy to hear your stories another time, Kid. Let's get up to the observation deck and put an end it." He almost spat the words, barely containing the rage pooling in his veins. He heard Philomena and the battle sister talk over the micro-bead and rolled his eyes at Severine's attempt to rally the crowd. "Philomena, we're right behind you. Severine, hurry. We can deal with a deck full of indulgent voidsmen after we keep this thing from doing any further damage." He spoke into the micro-bead, making his way to the observation deck.

As you gather together and then turn towards a stairwell that will take you upwards to the observation deck you hear shrieks, shouts and lots of heavy footfall on the metal steps from above. The noise gets louder quickly and then people start to spill out into the entertainment hub.

The first dozen or so crew look scared but unharmed. There are shouts about a madman setting people on fire, others question and gibber about the warp phenonema that seems to have covered quite a large area. (The observation deck being a few levels up). One man seeing Severine a holy sister throws himself at her feet begging to be saved. The next ten or so crew that come out of the stairwell are singed; their clothing burnt, some missing eyebrows and hair and a few sporting minor burn wounds...

... then a burning body, an inferno slams into the bottom of the stairwell. The body lays still, its clothing consumed as its flesh starts to blacken and crack.

"Calm yourself. We will bring the Emperor's mercy to this creature."
Severine stared down at the panicking man, deciding that many of these people would need to be cleansed once the threat was dealt with. Not all minds could handle the terrors of the warp, and it was a corruption that spread if not ripped out at the source.

She stepped around the crewman at her feet and looked to the rest of the acolytes. "Are you all prepared to face it? We're close, this is likely the end of our short hunt."

Severine prepared her hand flamers once again, ensuring they were loaded and ready. She turned to face the stairs and would begin to lead the way up the moment the others confirmed their readiness. She kicked the flaming corpse aside, muttering a prayer for its soul.

Philomena looks at the burning body with mounting dread. Neither she, nor Lokar were pyromancers. Inquisitor Grimm was, but she now lay in the ship's medicae bay, hopefully on the road to recovery. Perhaps, when she was better, she could train Philomena in the art. The young acolyte's lack of combat powers was a severe gap in her suite of talents, made all the more obvious to her in her present situation.

Still, she had to face this trial. If she ever was to earn her colleagues' respect, she could not stand back now. She drew her laspistol. Its weight in her hand was reassuring. It was a reliable weapon, not much different than the billions of similar weapons in circulation in the Imperium that had contributed in the Emperor's 10,000 year reign over the galaxy. Every day, a multitude of battles for Mankind's survival were fought, and won, using such weapons. There was comfort in that.

Philomena nods at Severine, mustering as much steel as she can. "Ready."

Damiel caught sight of the burning victim, the acrid scent forcing his face into a snarl. He looked up at the stairwell, pulling the large sword from the rack on his back and donning his helmet. "Every second is a soul lost. Let's move."

Damiel made ready to follow after her once she started to make her move.

This was it, finally a chance to prove himself and earn some much-needed respect around here. Lokar felt excited, a surge of adrenalin went through his body as he anticipated the thrill of combat and with it, a feral grin spread across his face. Those around him may note that they have never seen him so happy before.

When he spoke it was more a growl than speach. Ready.

The stairwell goes up a few levels where it terminates at the observation deck, it is filled with the smell of burnt flesh. As you ascend a dull pounding noise can be heard  from above which repeats every few seconds. The smell comes from the dead and the dying crew you pass on the way up.

The doors at the top automatically slide open revealing the observation area which is used by crew as an extension of the entertainments hub. The high arched ceiling make it an ideal place to get away from the often cramped confines of the ship, the void can ne seen through thick view ports running along one side of the hall.

You immediately notice the dead, a dozen or so burnt bodies scattered about the centre of the long hall. Chairs and tables for relaxation are a flame around the centre with those towards the ends of the chamber untouched. One lady her legs a ruin pulls herself along the ground towards you her hand reaching out… “Please help me…” she begs you.

Another loud pounding noise splits the air which draws your attention away from the devastation and to a figure over half way down the chamber. Details are hard to make out amongst the hazy smoke but he is wearing a jumpsuit of the maintenance crew. He wields a pneumatic hammer in two hands which he pulls back from the view port window he had just smashed it into setting himself for another swing. The figure, the deamonhost you assume has not noticed you…

map:

Surprise Round:

The daemonhost was far. Further than her pistol could reach. I should have requisitioned a lasgun, Philomena thinks to herself regretfully, resolving to get it done if she survives this encounter. She watches in horror as the creature pounds a window with a pneumatic hammer. If it broke it, they would all be sucked into space! Time was of the essence. Against her better judgement, she breaks into a run, following the wall and hoping the creature stayed focused on its task until she and her colleagues got closer.

Felyx remarked on the way up the stairs about the daemon's weaknesses: blessed weapons and psychic powers other than those that target the mind. Environmental hazards were out. That made a lot more sense when they got to the deck and saw it swinging a hammer at the view port. Felyx followed after Philomena on Second Serving's back. He hopes his blessings from the Omnissiah would be enough. If not, he really hoped Severine was as holy as her attitude implied.

Severine saw the daemonhost across the room and immediately began to move, taking a path along the far wall to close the distance hopefully without drawing the things attention until everyone was closer. She was short ranged herself, with the tools at her disposal, and as far as she knew the others were too.
That being said, she was far from stealthy. The braziers were still lit on her back, and the weight of power armor hitting the deck made its fair share of noise. Her hope was that it was too distracted with its current goals to notice her.

Damiel was surprised at the speed the battle sister moved with. He had never seen power armor before. Was this some result of mechanically enhanced movement? Damiel tried to run after her, keeping pace with the unarmored Lady Beauparlant. His armor, he thought, weighed him down without the benefit of adding to his movement

This is a powerful foe, I'm going to take a moment to cast a boon of protection upon myself. This was a lie, the young feral did so to prevent any nearby caring emotional types from objecting to what he was about to do. Secretly Lokar reaches out with his psychic power towards the poor defenceless crippled woman whimpering nearby. Latching onto her soul he begins leeching her life force, feeding on it to make himself more powerful for the upcoming battle. In his mind the strong are entitled to take what they want from the weak.

Lokar found her mind a weak thing to be brushed aside, cut through like a hot knife through butter. The injured woman lets out a soft grunt before her eyes roll back and she passes out as her life force is transferred to the feral.