Scorp hunts down some awesome-looking things which allows him to levitate around the battlefield at surprising speeds. He's starting to look like a proper kitted out Magos! Imk used his new friends in Gallow's Way to find a very nice-looking chainsword. Zharkon asks if it's ok if he uses the xeno staff that Ferue had, swearing up and down that it's not warp-infested. It somehow boosts his connection to the warp. He's a hard one to read, but I feel pretty sure he's telling the truth. More firepower? Yes please, and the Emperor probably won't notice the taint of the xeno all the way from Terra! Finally, Titus hunts down a twin to the bolt pistol given to him by Crimson, and we acquire 3 stummers for field work for me, Titus and Imk. I feel a lot better about our chances - we might even last a year now!
I use my contacts to verify whether Kalypsia's ship is still in orbit - nope. Huh, maybe should have done that first...oh well, at least the Emperor-damned warp/xeno/whatever objects aren't mind fucking us anymore. Don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, though I don't like Zharkon's smile when I ask.
Back down
At a bit of a loss what to do next, the problem is solved for us when we get another vox transmission from oath captain Nils. There's been another bunch of people killed with another fragment found on the scene. My skin had started to lose that lovely bouquet of sewer and sludge, definitely time for a refresh! So back we go.We meet Nils at the Purity gate. We can start with the crime scene, or the bodies in the morgue. We go for the crime scene first.
An hour or so away from the Purity gate, the oathkeepers are doing their best to make sense out the crime scene, an abandoned warehouse. Seems there were two gangs fighting it out, but Nils swears neither group belongs to any local groups they know of. Zharkon senses traces of a warp signature from 3 of the crates that reminds him of our items. The missing items in these crates aren't very big, no bigger than a non-mutated head. We find some blood tracks, but Imk is off his game (he blames living in a "soft" place like Gallow's way/the Gantry/the swamp for too long, makes total sense), no dice there.
We're more lucky talking to one of the unfortunate souls claiming the nearby piss-soaked corner as his home. He spotted 4 guys exiting the warehouse, one of them looking pretty badly wounded. The guy barking orders even had a bolter. Yeah, these guys are definitely pros. They headed roughly thataway.
Having exhausted our options on the crime scene, we head for the morgue. There are 7 bodies in all. 4 are clad in rags, with tattoos reminiscent of the now defunct Blessed Flesh. Zharkon is sure they're Nurgle worshipers, but probably from another cult. They're all armed with serrated swords, or they were according to the chirurgeon at hand. The remaining three are part of the merc crew, fairly well-equipped with flak armor, autoguns and even a sniper rifle.
As Zharkon is examining one of the bodies, it suddenly grabs him by the throat, an unholy light in its very dead eyes. Great opportunity to test my new plasma pistol right? Zharkon just manages to kick it away and for kicks I up the ante and turn on the maximal setting. The zombie/dead guy erupts in a spectacular shower of burning plasma/blood/bones turned to gas, and best of all - I'm unharmed myself. Blessed be the Emperor and his gifts! Or more likely some dead xeno race, who knows!
Titus is in the other room, examining the equipment left behind. Suddenly, the vox of one of the mercs crackles to life: "Sigma squad, return to base", with a response of "acknowledged, returning with one heavily wounded". Definitely sounds fairly professional. Scorp gets to work on tracking the signal.
In the meantime, Zharkon discovers some sort of bone fragments in pouches tied to the robes of the rag men. That plus the tattoos means he's able to tie them to another so-called strain of a Nurgle cult called Callers of Sorrow. Apparently, this group is an umbrella sort of organization, with individual cults like this one and the Blessed Flesh organized into autonomous strains (branches, for normal people). These guys seem to hail from another planet in this system - a cemetery world called Taur.
After a bit of trying, Scorp is unable to actually track the signal, claiming he lacks the necessary equipment. He is, however, able to decipher that they're probably using relays to transmit vox signals back to wherever their base is. There aren't many places these relays can be placed that doesn't go through the elevator at the Purity gate - we're able to narrow it down to 2 exits to the mid-hive. After a brief discussion, we resolve to split up to ensure we can get to them in time. Hopefully we'll be ahead of them since we can take the elevator.
And out
Me and Imk head towards a landing pad connecting to a space port higher up, while the rest head towards a transport elevator. After a few hours, Titus et al spot the team coming towards the elevator. The wounded guy looks severely fucked up. The leader calls in again, and gets the message that he needs to do whatever is necessary. Weirdly, there seems to be an element of caring somewhat - weirdly unusual in Chaos cultists. Or in Imperials for that matter...in any case, they carry the unconscious man around a corner, we hear the sound of an autogun smattering and they move up the elevator. Scorp sends the pict fly to follow them, then the rest follows. Me and Imk race to catch up, though we're about 20 minutes out.As the mercs reach the next level, the leader voxes that it'll take them one day to reach home base. He responds negatively to shortening this time. After a fairly short while, they reach the wall of the hive itself, in area where there is an opening straight into the open, as well as another elevator. They surprise us by strapping on parachutes and jumping down, where Titus spots dune buggies hidden under tarp. Blast!
We resolve to not engage the mercs, since we're only interested in tracking them to their base. Me and Imk catch up while Scorp is able to jury rig some missing parts from the remaining dune buggy (which they left behind, since they were 4 guys short). I place myself in the driver's seat as the only truly well-trained driver.
We're able to set out in the mercs' general direction. I try to speed up somewhat, but the buggy doesn't much appreciate my rough handling and I slow down to avoid a crash. The temperature is fairly high, the environment is the typical blasted landscape outside hives. A few ruins, but mostly a mix of sand and very fine glass coats the slightly hilly scenery.
After a few hours, a storm starts brewing. I've heard tales of travelers having their flesh stripped from their bones by tiny, razor-sharp glass fragments. We decide that caution = valor and hide out while the storm rages. After a couple of hours, the storm subsides. We set out again. A short while later, Titus spots 8-10 humans on some sort of speeders in the distance. Their intentions don't seem to friendly, which comes as a big surprise.
They really suck at target selection though - me and Titus make short work of 4 of them. The rest decide that's that and turn tail. We decide that nuh huh, we want one of you guys alive. Titus shoots out the tires on one of the bikes, and the rider goes flying, but survives. He picks up his sniper rifle, Titus shoots it out of his hands. Same with the pistol. Zharkon says that's cute guys, now watch this. The raider quietly sits down, hands out, ready to be manacled. Damn...
Zharkon gets out his gear and goes to work. The raider is the typical half-crazed type, screaming we're going to die, regret coming out here etc. We learn that he's part of the Gwydrae gang, led by Frorhn the Slayer. He's partway right about the dying thing - we notice the roar of hundredes of speeders in the distance. Titus puts a hole in the raider's head, ending the slightly annoying crazed cackling.
We get into the vehicle, I send a prayer to the Machine-God and floor the pedal - and the buggy cooperates! Gradually, the speeder roars dissipate and we're alone again. Right then, the vox crackles to life: "Sigma team to base, we're camping for the night at coordinates so and so. See you tomorrow". Well, that's awfully nice of them!
