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[Gamerlord]

Check next door. Maybe they know who did this.

[crazysheep]

You're glad when you get through the hab door, noting a servo-skull inset in the wall just inside. It makes a small clatter as the picter in its eye activates - you assume it takes a record of all who enter.

I'm assuming this is what we got from the successful roll? Not easy to note the activation of a picter in a skull inset into a wall..

I think we should go through the room more carefully, noting whether there is a general pattern indicating the taint of Chaos in this looting.

[adwarf]

Search the room for any sign of who may have done this.
Also search for any hidden compartments in the house.
Try and make out what the majority of the graffiti says, it might give a lead.

[shadenight123]

We should ask the Owner of the Establishment if we can look through the records of who entered
Then ask if there is a record of who used the lift, or if there are more cameras.
Check in the room anyway
Find a Diary or something of sorts that your daughter might have used to remember her appointments
Check the door: if there are no signs of brute-forcing oneself in...maybe it was opened from the inside, and thus she knew the killer.

[Digital Hellhound]

You smoke some lho to calm your nerves. Drawing deep on the narcotic, you push your anger aside for now and let the logical part of your mind lead the way.

The facts; someone came in here and thrashed the place. It seems likely this happened after she died, or while she was at work - in any case, you doubt she ever came back to the apartment. You start with the door, looking over the lock and the hinges. It doesn't show any obvious signs of brute entry, but the lock is busted alright. It seems to you it was lockpicked rather than forced open, perhaps broken afterwards from inside.

You turn around, letting your sight settle on the room. You spend a few minutes taking in the whole picture again, looking for things you missed. The front door lock reminds you of the safe and you head over - it's completely empty, the contents either discarded on the floor or taken. But the interesting thing is that the complex physical lock has been picked, just as with the door, rather than broken open. The level of professional skill needed suggests something more precise than the wanton destruction and vandalism of the rest of the room, but you decide not to draw any conclusions just yet.

A few minutes later, you begin to notice further discrepancies in the picture of mindless looting the rooms have become. It seems to you the empty places on the tables are where records and dataslates have been taken, neatly collected from their resting places. Her desk, where you suspect most of those would have been, proves to be almost untouched by damage. After a bit more searching, you make up your mind - the looting here could have very well been methodical and precise, made to look like vandalism - or possibly vandalized by others - afterwards. Or the discrepancies are just coincidences... but something tells you your instincts are right.

More worryingly, it takes you a few moments to realize the burn marks on the walls have been made with las weapons - hardly the equipment of your average criminal. You don't want to think on what that could mean.

You take a few moments to scour the apartment for a diary or hidden compartments of some kind, but in the end you have to admit the attackers were thorough, or that your daughter's hiding places are too ingenious for even you. After a while, your gaze drifts to the graffiti. For an alarming moment you wonder if they could be cult signs, but if they are, you don't recognize them - the workings of the Enemy are not your specialty, thank the Emperor. To your eyes they look more like typical ganger insignia or just meaningless symbols by local youths and looters.

Figuring you've probably exhausted what you can tell from the room itself, you decide to try the neighbours. The hallway outside is lined with identical-looking doors. You knock on the two doors next to her's, but they don't prove too talkative. The inhabitant of the #452 slams the door in your face before you get far, and the #456 - a young, slightly pudgy woman dressed in what passes for fashion here - doesn't know much. She heard sounds of things breaking and raised voices through the wall a night or two ago, but didn't exactly go investigate. She seems a bit broken up - you guess she atleast knew your daughter - but you're not here to offer your sympathies.

You ask about the records, too. She's silent for a while, frowning.

'I've never thought about it, really,' she says. 'I guess you should ask the, uhh, the techpriest downstairs. I think he lives in the maintenance corridor? You can get there from the ground floor.'

---

Spoiler: Rolls (click to show/hide)

Search Check (-10, rolling against 39): [20], passed with 1 degree of success
Search Check for diary/hidden compartments (+0, rolling against 49): [23], passed with 2 degrees of success
Scrutiny Check on door (+10, rolling against 59): [52], passed

Spoiler: Profile (click to show/hide)

Name: Marlowe Dezler
Wounds: 12/12
Stats:
Characteristics:
WS 38
BS 46
S 41
T 38
AG 45
INT 36
PER 49
FEL 38
WP 36
Skills:
+Awareness
+Linguistics (Low Gothic)
+Drive (Surface)
+Survival
+Tracking
+Dodge
+Security
+Scrutiny
+Search
+Inquiry
Talents:
*Deadeye Shot
*Quick Draw
*Rapid Reload
*Combat Sense
*Crack Shot
*Light Sleeper
Equipment:
- Akroxis-pattern Naval Pistol (6/6) [Range 20m/RoF S/3/-//Damage 1d10+4 I/Pen 0/Reload Full - Tearing] [Common Craftsmanship]
- Street Blade [Throw Range 5m /Damage 1d5 R/Pen 0 - Primitive] [Common Craftsmanship]
- Concealed Armor [Covers Arms, Body, Legs/AP 2] [Good Craftsmanship]
- Chrono
- Keys to Apartment #454
- Lho Packs (2)
- Bag

---

((The first Awareness roll last turn was indeed for the servo-skull. I considered hiding the results of such rolls entirely so you wouldn't know if you missed something, but I guess not. Don't expect too much information on what Awareness and related checks are for, or anything at all for failed ones.))

[Gamerlord]

Head on down to the techpriest. Keep an eye out for anyone watching us.

[crazysheep]

Our next course of action seems clear then, visiting the techpriest downstairs.

[shadenight123]

Raised voiceS
It was a hit, done by a Group, armed with las guns.

Our daughter probably found something she wasn't supposed to find related to some corporative work or something far seedier.

Check with the Technopriest.

Lasguns are a bit heavy to hide, aren't they?

[Parsely]

PTW

[Digital Hellhound]

You give your thanks and set off, closing the #454 door as you go. The lock might not work, but atleast you don't want to give any ideas to passerbyes by leaving it open. There's not much anything left inside to take, but you can't bear the thought of someone wrecking the place even further.

You head down, thinking on how to deal with this techpriest. They're a prickly lot and secretive to the point of paranoia - though you suppose it's their right, given their role in the Imperium. The enginseers of your regiment were fairly solid people, as cogboys go, and ended up saving your ass more than once. You hope the priest here isn't too far gone - the last thing you want is to deal with a low-level maintenance worker with delusions of grandeur.

You find the maintenance door soon enough and give it a knock. Immediately, you hear a groan and a mechanical whirr from inside, followed by footsteps on the ground. They stop just beyond the door, and you can just feel the person inside staring at you through some hidden peephole. After an agonizing minute, the door opens.

The techpriest proves to be a tall, gangly man in ill-fitting Mechanicum robes, his cowl not entirely hiding an explosion of greasy brown hair. You note the mechahendrite rising from his spine, which seems to be the only augmentation he possesses.

'Yes? Yes? What do you need?' he asks, irritation clear in his voice.

Spoiler: Profile (click to show/hide)

Name: Marlowe Dezler
Wounds: 12/12
Stats:
Characteristics:
WS 38
BS 46
S 41
T 38
AG 45
INT 36
PER 49
FEL 38
WP 36
Skills:
+Awareness
+Linguistics (Low Gothic)
+Drive (Surface)
+Survival
+Tracking
+Dodge
+Security
+Scrutiny
+Search
+Inquiry
Talents:
*Deadeye Shot
*Quick Draw
*Rapid Reload
*Combat Sense
*Crack Shot
*Light Sleeper
Equipment:
- Akroxis-pattern Naval Pistol (6/6) [Range 20m/RoF S/3/-//Damage 1d10+4 I/Pen 0/Reload Full - Tearing] [Common Craftsmanship]
- Street Blade [Throw Range 5m /Damage 1d5 R/Pen 0 - Primitive] [Common Craftsmanship]
- Concealed Armor [Covers Arms, Body, Legs/AP 2] [Good Craftsmanship]
- Chrono
- Keys to Apartment #454
- Lho Packs (2)
- Bag

((You are free to suggest exact things to say or just general approaches. Really good/convincing RP can modify or replace rolls entirely if it doth please me.))

[Gamerlord]

Sayc something like: "Sorry for disturbing you, but I need the aid of someone versed in the mysteries of the machine."

[kaian-a-coel]

"Greetings, servant of the omnimessiah. I am the father of the deceased occupant of the 454th, and am in search of truth on her death. I hoped that your hidden skull picter could have taken a picture of the assaillants. Could you please help a father in distress?"

[Parsely]

"Greetings, servant of the omnimessiah. I am the father of the deceased occupant of the 454th, and am in search of truth on her death. I hoped that your hidden skull picter could have taken a picture of the assaillants. Could you please help a father in distress?"

+1

[crazysheep]

"Greetings, servant of the omnissiah. I am the father of the deceased occupant of the 454th, and am in search of truth on her death. I hoped that your hidden skull picter could have taken a picture of the assaillants. Could you please help a father in distress?"

+1

+1

[Digital Hellhound]

You decide to act humble. The cogboy doesn't seem to be in too good a mood and stroking his ego a bit can't hurt.

'Greetings, servant of the Omnissiah. I am the father of the deceased occupant of the 454th, and am in search of truth on her death. I hoped that your hidden skull picter could have taken a picture of the assaillants,' you say. 'Could you please help a father in distress?'

The techpriest blinks. He coughs and starts to say something, hesitating.

'I really... this is highly unusual,' he mumbles. He looks at you for a good, long while, controlling his breathing. You try to put a touch of pleading onto your face.

'It would mean the world to me,' you add, hoping to prod him into making his mind.

'But... what do you mean, the truth of her death? They said... they said Miss Sabbat died in an accident.'

God-Emperor, but just hearing her name hurts. Some of it must show on your face because the techpriest seems to falter.

'It wasn't an accident,' you say simply.

His face just twists up. He sets his jaw in what you assume he thinks is grim determination, and you realize just how young he is. He nods, slowly. When he speaks again, he sounds more collected.

'I believe I know who you refer to, Mr. Dezler,' he says. 'I cannot allow you to witness the sacred rites of the Omnissiah, but if you wait here, I will retrieve the picter feed for... for those men.'

You nod, not wanting to push it, and the techpriest turns and strides across the cramped maintenance room. You take a surreptitious look around with his back turned. The room doesn't exactly come off as inviting, steel walls and pipes, with a small bed and table in the corner, continuing into another chamber the techpriest disappears to. You suppose he doesn't need many comforts, or perhaps just can't afford them.

A moment later, the servoskull from the door whirrs inside, bobbing back and forth in the air. It follows the youth inside. There's a long silence - you begin to wonder if something happened to the boy - and the pair return. The techpriest holds a dataslate in his hands.

He begins reading aloud quickly. 'Err... right. Arrived 25.10, three men, identities unknown. Items identified; two lasweapons, Cet Saul-pattern, one civilian autoweapon, unknown pattern, one proscribed item known as multikey, two injectors, possibly used for illegal narcotics, one pack of lho,' he says, frowning. 'First man possessed Administratum clearance, tertiary level. That... explains why these weapons didn't trigger any alarms. In any case, they left a few hours later.'

You ask to see. The techpriest hands you the dataslate. The pic quality isn't good, but you take in all that you can. The three men were muscular, clad in low-Hive clothes. You note the tattoos on their skin - probably gang marks, if you know anything - and the ease with which they hold the lasguns. You can guess from the pic the first man - a scarred, lean-faced man with a military buzzcut - is the leader. You consider the complexity of the hit upstairs. Usual ganger scum wouldn't go to such lengths - but usual ganger scum wouldn't come this high in the first place anyway.

Damn. You hate it when they're not predictable.

'I'm Ardun,' the techpriest says. 'I mean... was... was I of any help?'

---

Spoiler: Rolls (click to show/hide)

Fellowship Check (+0, rolling against 38): [34], Passed.

Spoiler: Profile (click to show/hide)

Name: Marlowe Dezler
Wounds: 12/12
Stats:
Characteristics:
WS 38
BS 46
S 41
T 38
AG 45
INT 36
PER 49
FEL 38
WP 36
Skills:
+Awareness
+Linguistics (Low Gothic)
+Drive (Surface)
+Survival
+Tracking
+Dodge
+Security
+Scrutiny
+Search
+Inquiry
Talents:
*Deadeye Shot
*Quick Draw
*Rapid Reload
*Combat Sense
*Crack Shot
*Light Sleeper
Equipment:
- Akroxis-pattern Naval Pistol (6/6) [Range 20m/RoF S/3/-//Damage 1d10+4 I/Pen 0/Reload Full - Tearing] [Common Craftsmanship]
- Street Blade [Throw Range 5m /Damage 1d5 R/Pen 0 - Primitive] [Common Craftsmanship]
- Concealed Armor [Covers Arms, Body, Legs/AP 2] [Good Craftsmanship]
- Chrono
- Keys to Apartment #454
- Lho Packs (2)
- Bag