Slain by Elf

Our tech-priest is interesting some of the other acolytes, whose only exposure to technology doesn't even extend to an electric toothbrush. 'What part of you is robotic?', one asks.

Taking his own uncomfortably close look, Matthias answers for Xerxes the tech-priest, 'his nose hair'.

But marvelling at such high-tech solutions to mundane issues is short-lived. The acolytes have to leave the opulent splendour of the upper-hive to travel to the squalor of the mid-hive as part of their investigations, and finding out how to get there has Dariel upset.

'Stairs?' Seeing the long and shallow series of steps has him stopping in his tracks. 'It's the 41st millennium and we still have stairs?!' It's amazing to think that escalators, lifts, even jet-packs haven't replaced the vastly inefficient stairs to move people between places of different heights.

Eventually Dariel calms down and accepts that walking down the stairs isn't quite as arduous as he first imagined, if only because they're going down. Once he realises he'll have to come back up them it will be too late, and he can always be left in the mid-hive.

'I won't be able to make the session tonight. I have my character sheet here for you to take along, so you can decide whether to continue with him along or not.'

'Yeah, we'll carry on with him. At least, to start with, probably until the first encounter.'

'This is what I'm afraid of.'

'...then we'll probably leave him behind. A carcass is a lot of dead weight to lug about otherwise.'

Character creation time! Not for me, as I am running the Dark Heresy adventure, this one after the introductory sessions and meaty enough to warrant the players making their own characters.

One player rolls a psyker, interested in the different mechanics of the class and the potential it offers. One opts for a tech-priest, intrigued by the combination of religious fervoury and technology. The other two prefer to let fate guide their hands, rolling randomly to get an arbitrator and a hive world noble.

Knowing the adventure that we're going to play, and not really giving anything away, I say that 'it's good we have a psyker and nob in the party', happy for the potential for increased player interaction.

'And they're both the same person', quips someone, 'good for transportation'.

The sight of an abnormally tall and genetically mutant woman operating on a man with his ribcage split open, heart beating, and still obviously conscious and in agony is almost too much to bear. It doesn't help that the woman has a spider-like harness with drills whirring and knives slicing, or that two deformed homuncules are aiding this grotesque experiment.

Lionus looks in to this chamber of horrors and his mind reels, failing to keep his senses at the sheer gruesomeness on display.

'You've failed the fear check, so you have -10 to all checks.'

'Okay. I try to shoot her nonetheless.'

'That's -10 for being feared, and -20 for the called shot.'

'Um, what?'

The acolytes have investigated the mystery disappearance of citizens in this sector, as well as the alarming re-appearance of one with bio-grafts and other heretical modifications. Their dealings have led them to the heart of the operation, although they still aren't sure quite what the final goal is.

What they do know is that one of the masterminds has called out to 'initiate the destruction protocol', after they ambush him and strike hard and fast. A few more seconds of brutal combat sees a shotgun blast rip his arm off and tear his face to shreds. As he falls, his robes splay open to show the mesh bodyline armour he was wearing, revealing how he was able to withstand other gunfire.

'Dibs on the armour', says Lionus, quite taken by the level of protection it could offer him.

'Fine by me', replies Arlas, as he sees the other mastermind frantically scramble with control panels to send electronics and other machinery squealing with warning alarms. 'You stay here and peel it off. Maybe the blood-soaked scraps will protect you from the 'destruction protocol'.'

The mutated bodysnatchers are almost despatched, which will leave only their unmutilated leader to deal with. But one more remains.

Arlas drops his pistol to the ground and reaches in to his long overcoat to draw a shotgun, whipping the barrel around to point at the final bodysnatcher as he cocks the weapon dramatically. 'Dodge this' he quips, firing at point-blank range. But a roll of 90 on his hit roll is a definite miss, even with a +30 bonus to his ballistic skill.

We are reaching the end of the session, making it a good time to spend a fate point, which will recharge by the start of the next session. Re-rolling his hit roll gets Arlas a result of 01, a perfect hit. With this precision, and his choice of weapon and bonuses, four solid hits slam in to the bodysnatcher.

Two shots blow the face off the bodysnatcher, one rips his right arm off, and the fourth not so much punctures a lung as obliterates it. The charging heretical monstrosity drops messily to the ground. That's how to deal with fate.

The acolytes have suspicions about the Alms House in connection with the disappearance of citizens, and mutilation of one in particular. A stake-out sees a roaming gang leave the House and a plan is concocted to intercept their return.

As with most plans having an improvised portion, the situation goes awry when Elza tries to distract the gang. She ends up caught and bound, although not before raising enough commotion to draw the rest of the acolytes to her position. The gang is not about to be negotiated with and a fight breaks out, shots ringing in both directions as each side tries to wound or otherwise immobilise the other.

Some good shooting knocks down a couple of the gang members, who the acolytes find to be biologically mutated themselves, which opens up an opportunity to assist Elza. Left gagged and tied up on the ground as the bodysnatchers engage the other acolytes, she has been trying with no success to escape her bonds.

Lionus is first to reach Elza and removes the gag as he starts to untie her. The knots are pretty secure, though, and he's struggling. 'Lionus', Elza says, 'you know those five knives you've been flashing around since we got here, the ones you're aching to use in a fight?'

'Yep', he replies, 'and I'm still hoping to get a chance now, but your safety is more of a priority.'

'Actually, I was thinking you could use one of them to cut the rope.'

'Oh, right.' The bonds are easily sliced, freeing Elza and letting Lionus finally make use of his knives.

The acolytes investigating possible heretical surgical modifications have been equipped with a bio-sensor that when in the presence of anomalous tissue 'whines with increasing volume'.

We have a similar sensor that whines with increasing volume when it detects the Lord of the Rings films being mentioned around the table.

Local investigations are gathering plenty of circumstantial evidence but nothing some of the acolytes consider concrete enough to start being more aggressive in their pursuit of information.

Elza Constantine is going to pass some time in the local market buying shoes, whereas Cleric Lionus Vern thinks they should go back to the curiously feared Alms House during the lunch period to see what happens.

'I'm not quite sure what that gains us, though', says Arlas Vrek.

'Shoes', points out Elza.

Lionus leaves the Worker's Union with companion acolyte Garvel Wroth but no information, the pair of them making their way to where the other two members of their investigative team are pursuing a second lead.

'Sorry guys', Lionus apologises, 'I couldn't find out anything about John Arblast', conveniently forgetting to mention the failed 20 Throne bribe.

'That's not really surprising', says guardsman Arlas Vrek, 'as we're investigating the disappearance and mutilation of Saul Arbest'.