"I concur, we still very much look like outsiders. We will also blend in more easily once we acquire the locals' clothes."

Oliver rapped on his carapace. He paused in the middle of his stride, watching the distant workers. Somehow, he thought of their working conditions, their hours of toiling, and who would wait for them at home. ...Home?

"A thought, to where should we retire at the end of the day? We will require some manner of base if we are to remain here for the next few days."

// Given that Ting has failed the navigation, you will need to come to some course of action.

OOC: Sorry guys, not been well for a couple of days. Will catchup post now. Sorry again.

Dracon pondered what Oliver had said, watching Jaspar fumble with the map as he tried to figure out where they were and where they should be heading. "We may be able to find an unused hab, even a hole in the wall with a few blankets would suffice for now. We'll need to ask Bron for some form of headquarters when we resurface, but for now an old Hab should suffice us right?" He spoke to Oliver now, as Jaspar still seemed confused by his own handwriting. "If we plan on investigating under the cover story that we are new menials as has been our cover so far, new attire would be preferable. Perhaps we can 'acquire' some new outfits on our way."

Dracon turned now to Jaspar, watching the man as he attempted to figure where they should go next.

{Navigate: Surface test -20 (Int: 28) Roll: 35 2 DoF}

"Here, let me take a look at that." He said to the Guardsman, holding out his hand for the directions, but once he had them could make no more sense of them than Jaspar seemed to. "Are you sure we didn't take a wrong turn somewhere back there?"

// Alright, so we have two failed Navigation tests. You are stuck in the bowels of the forge near the heart of the refinery. You'll need to decide on a course of action.

/* I am hesitant to force the group move on by myself, or do something that goes against common interests. However, if everyone is gathered near the fiery forge, Oliver will be uneasy. To keep a hold on himself, he would whip out his accordion and start playing it. Doing so might draw attention from the priests, but it may also spark something in the workers. That is the course of action I would like to take, but I would rather not just do so without a consensus. By the by, would a test be required to play a song that Oliver plays religiously? Trade (Performancer) seems more for high-impact performances like plays and concerts rather than casual playing. */

// If your intention was to spark some interest in the workers from an emotional perspective, Trade(Performancer) would be correct. If your intention is just to draw attention to yourself because of the noise, then no, I wouldn't require a test.

And don't concern yourself too much about "forcing" the group to move on. In PBF it is sometimes best to be decisive and act, even if you don't have the concurrence of the group in every aspect. We are all aware that to keep the story moving at a good pace we have to be a bit more understanding of other's actions. We don't want to dominate the group's decisions, but each of you has some leeway to make a decision and act accordingly.

/* Oliver would be playing his accordion for his own benefit, to distract himself from the flames. He is not specifically trying to ellicit reactions from other people, but they may (and likely will) react to him anyway. */

Oliver craned over his comrade's shoulder to examine the map, with little success. He could not tell where they were or had been without a point of reference. Grasping for some form of progress, the group marched on as Oliver's chest grew tighter. Anxiety from losing his way? No, it was more than that. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he looked around slowly to identify the source of his plight. His eyes snapped to a whistle blaring in the distance. A forge whistle, he thought, and then his eyes opened wide. He came to a horrifying realization. Since when was he surrounded by countless blazing furnaces? Oliver could hardly think between the din of his heartbeat and the heat he became acutely aware of. He needed to get away.

/* Pyrophobia, DH2 - Core 288; Ordinary (+10) Willpower Test

Target Number: 45; d100 roll: 10, 3 DoS */

Oliver fumbled for a small hexagonal box dangling from his belt. It resembled a canteen with subtle buttons on either side. Trembling hands slipped through two fabric loops before pulling the box apart. A deep breath from both the player and his instrument, then music. He played the accordion like his life depended on it. Stilling his throbbing heart, taking him away from his scenery, Oliver closed his eyes lost himself in his melody.

The accordion's soft music is lost to the clang and whir of industry all around you. You move through the refinery looking for some clue as to the direction you should take. All around you the menials continue their slow, methodical crawl over the pipe works, turning valves, tightening junctions, releasing pressure. The servo skulls buzz around you, ducking and diving amongst the infrastructure. One nears you, it's skull a dirty brown, the sockets devoid of life but alight with an artificial glow. small mechadendrites thrash about it, scanning, searching. A speaker juts from its open skull, secured with fine silver wire. It passes you, careening at speed between Oliver and Dracon, before turning abruptly. It's sudden stop causes it to nearly collide with a support stanchion, but it drifts to the left narrowly avoiding the obstruction. Above your heads, another skull turns acutely, dashing off in the direction of the first skulls destination.

The skull before you sidles closer, the speaker buzzing to life, crackling with the distortion of so many other signals being broadcast in the space. A burst of machine code pours out of the speaker, followed by a long pause. When its evident that you are incapable of understanding the speaker crackles again.

"Informational: Access to this space is restricted, and your presence is reducing maintenance efficiency by 2.4%. Demand: Vacate the refinery premises immediately."

Looking around you find that a tech-priest on a nearby lectern is watching you intently, even as his mechadendrites scramble around his control lectern maintaining his control of the refineries processes. Clearly this priest is the one controlling the servo skull.

OOC://: Sorry guys, had a lot of cover this week at work and my pen and paper group has started up again this week, but I'm only running it fortnightly and I'm not doing any more cover (so far as I know), so there should be no more hold ups from me.

Jaspar's eyebrows furrowed as Dracon and himself found themselves being further and further confused by the map as they wandered almost aimlessly through the forge. Oliver had begun to play a tune on his accordion, the melancholic wailing of the strange instrument seemed to soothe the Arbite, the sweat beaded on his brow not from the heat around them but from the fear building within him, or so it seemed.

Jaspar looked quizzical at the man between glances at the map and their surroundings, wondering all the while the story behind it and the haunting musical device, but before he could speak, they where buzzed by a servo-skull blurting machine-code at them. The skull hovered, waiting for a response but receiving none, so it repeated its message in Gothic.

Looking, Jaspar spotted a Tech-Priest manipulating controls and devices with his mechadendrites as he stared at the intruders to his domain. Stepping forward, he spoke to the skull and hoped it had a microphone as well as a speaker.

"Honoured Preist, we are lost. Our intrusion here is due to an error during my following instructions of how to get to our new lodgings. We apologise for the interruption of the pursual of your holy duties and humbly request your assistance."

Dracon listened to Oliver, the accordion chilling to his ears. He walked in silence through the forest of pipes and machinery, thier plight weighing on his thoughts as they plunged further and further into the heart of the forge. Before long they were stopped, an ancient servo-skull, painful tech-screech pouring from the speaker clutched in it's bony teeth.

Jaspar stepped forward and spoke to it, his manner different from before as he communicated with the tech-priest glaring at them from a metallic balcony away from them. His hands fell to his waist, as they had when Oliver had entered the weapon smith Bron's shop. His fists closed round the well worn grips of his weapons and he sidled closer to Oliver.

"I hope he's got this, this could get messy quickly if that cog-boy doesn't buy his story. Even if it is the truth." An ironic grin twisted his face as he looked around, assessing his surroundings.

The servo skull floats closer to Jaspar, mechadendrites waving gently in the air. A whirring sounds within the soulless sockets of the long dead Mechanicus servant. The Tech-Priest on high shifts his body, hunching closer over his lectern in an effort to get closer to you, subconsciously mimicking the drone. The air above you is not quite so busy with the passage of skulls. It's obvious your presence is a distraction.

"Correction: Your presence is reducing maintenance efficiency by 7.6%. Informational: Your noospheric readings indicate you are of the Legio Manus Flammeus suppport cadre. The refinery is located 7 levels below the Legio's lodging allotment. Additional: Your service record, Canto Redeel, Identification Number 86215649, indicates you have resided in the same lodgings since induction 4.3 local standard years ago. Demand: Clarify situation"

Several of the servo skulls mechadendrites stiffen, their pointed tips producing arcs of power and the smell of ozone. As work slows around you, the rubber clad menials once tending the refinery's workings stop to watch. One, a broad shouldered man carrying a wrench the size of a heavy stubber with distressing ease, leans out from a cluster of pipes to look up at the priest. His face, once exposed to the harsh overhead lights, is covered in grease except for circular outlines around his eyes, courtesy of the goggles now resting on his forehead. He glances back at your group, before quietly slipping his wrench around a nearby valve.

Jaspar swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He had forgotten they were replacing existing serfs, rather than being new ones and he knew he had to think fast.

"Yes, this is correct but due to the recent death of Princeps Pak and the appointment of a new Princeps, the duties we performed for him were deemed ended. We have been assigned new quarters so that our replacements may serve the new Princeps as we did." Jaspar looked over at Oliver and Dracon, gesturing before looking back towards the priest.

"Perhaps the errors in the information presented by the noosphere is simply due to a delay in the updating of our credentials in the datastacks."

Jaspar looked at the hulking serf edging closer, his hand moving near to his laspistol just in case.

Dracon looked around. They were beginning to draw a lot more than 7.6% of the attention away from the assigned tasks the tech priest was overseeing, and he knew they were pushing thier luck as is.

{Deceive test. Fel:39. Roll: 9. 3DoS.}

"We beg forgiveness for the interruption holy Magos, this area of the forge is unfamiliar to us and we simply lost our way. We will be on our way promptly if you would point us the correct direction."

Hands still resting on the grips of his weapons, Dracon crossed his fingers and hoped the preist was more interested in his duties than investigating them.

// Trying to make good use of the Forum here, so let's give spoilers a try.

The tech-priest looks back and forth between Jaspar and Dracon, the organic parts of his face lined with confusion as he tries to reconcile the sincerity you appear to be displaying with the records before his eyes. The confusion turns to anger as a series of tones begin to sound from his lectern. A screech of binaric sears the air, and the servo-skull's arms slacken before the things tears off at break neck pace through the forest of tubing. The priest dismissively waves an arm at your small group, before turning his bulk back to the lectern properly.

The menial before you heaves a sigh of relief before placing the wrench once more on his shoulder. He reaches up to release the rebreather mask from his face and approaches you with a wry smile.

"Odd to see the Legio down here, your folks don't get 'lost' very often." The man gives Dracon a wink.

"Don't worry. The workers support the Legio over the clankers any day. Your quick thinking got you out of that one, Overseer Hresh has given me permission to see you out of here. Better one worker stops working than a dozen standing around to watch what goes down. That, and it sounds like a pressure vessel is near breach. Hresh'll be in a heap of trouble if he lets one pop because he was distracted.

A shame too, I was ready to open up that steam vent. Would've fried that little bastard of a skull, and covered our way out. So, where are you really headed?"

The man busies himself wiping the grime from his face, and looks at you expectantly.

Oliver, in his flame-addled swoon, was only dimly aware of the Tech-Priest. The Arbitrator came to in the presence of a yet another stranger. Returning the squeezebox to his belt, its job done, Oliver reassessed the situation. From the disappeared Tech-Priest, the tension lifting from his comrades' faces, and the man's words, Oliver deduced an expression of gratitude was in order.

"Oliver Yu." he asserted, straightening his posture and pounding a fist against his chest late. "You have our thanks. The three of us have gathered to see the completion of a particular task. If I may be so forward, I motion for us to move somewhere more private, among allies of the late Princeps."

Oliver placed particular emphasis on his last words. Though his lips would never admit it, he strongly desired respite from the cacophony of fire and steel.

Dracon's eyes widened with surprise as the Tech-priest dismissed then and the filthy serf stepped forward and introduced himself. His eyes widened further as Oliver introduced himself with his true name, and he nudged the Arbite with his elbow and spoke softly in the hopes that only Oliver would hear him.

"What are you doing? Jaspar just proved they think we are other people, and this guy could literally be anyone. I don't think it's wise we tell anyone our names until we find out our cover identities from Bron."

Side stepping slightly away from the Arbite, he looked at the newcomer suspiciously. The sheer bulk of the man was impressive, and the enormous wrench he carried was more so.

The man's grease stained features split in a delighted grin.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Oliver. I know of such a place," he says, gesturing for you to follow before turning and disappearing into the surrounding machinery.

"I knew you for supporters of the princeps, though it's obvious you ain't his servants. We never see them down in the body of the refinery, the overseer was right about that. No reason for any of Legio to be down this far, unless they didn't want to be seen for some reason. It's clear from the way you all speak, and your manner, that you aren't from Rhodin IV, and haven't been here long."

The servant takes you out of the refinery through a side door into a narrow corridor. The area is quiet as you move past door after unmarked door in the desolate space.

"We can't take long, Hresh will be expecting me to return to my maintenance duties shortly. But, I can take you to someone who can guide you better, wherever it is that you are headed. He's a good man, for a clanker. Far friendlier to the unaugmented than the rest you're likely to meet on this polluted rock."

He stops in the hallway, and turns back to you, pulling some small trinket from beneath his heavy rubber overalls.

"And take this. A small thing, but maybe it will help you. It'll let others know of your support for the revered dead, and that you stand with the miners. You get lost again, just show that, but don't let a tech-priest see it."

The trinket is small necklace, a chord of salvaged wire, the pendant a hand worked piece of local stone. The Imperial Aquila stands to the fore, at it's back crudely carved fire, engulfing the religious symbol.

"Over here, he's been working in this area of late. Should still be here."

// Sukrai, this is where you come in. I'm going to let you decide what it is you are working on, and introduce yourself how you would like.

Sparks and a blue actinic glow came through an open door of a small out of the way shack-like building, possibly an old storage unit. The exterior of the building was built to the same lines, but it bore a sign on it that looked like a mechanical arm with electoos on it, indicating the function of the establishment. Within, a red-robed tech-priest took an oversized stylus and brought it over to what looked like a severed mechanical arm, the claw-like hand made for industrial strength use laying open and immobile, while the dull grey metal of its chassis sat in a vice. As the stylus heated up, the tech-priest threaded a thin rod of brass into the back end of it, and as the stylus began to glow at the end he brought it down onto the limb.

Small grooves had been carved into the structure of the limb, in geometrical arcs and lines that indicated Emperor knew what to whomever. Possibly an ownership mark, a task designation, or maybe just something to make it look less drab. Either way, the techpriest filled each groove with a thin line of molten metal, letting the designs pop out visually as he went along. Not all of them were to be filled with brass though. A second stylus was brought out, and this time instead of metal it was filled with a type of liquid ceramic that was colored a bone white, which he began to use to fill out a section that looked like half a skull. Once the area was filled, the tech-priest would have to take a piece of chrome filigree which he hammered into place overtop of the skull, completing the other half of the image to make the symbol of the Mechanicus and the Omnissiah himself. It would of course, need more detail work, but for now at least the basic shape was in place.

As the man went to grab a set of files to do more definition work on the piece, a small bell tolled from the door, causing him to turn around. He had a long, rust-red cloak that covered him from shoulder to ankles with only a handful of singe-marks on it, with his head bared to see. His dark-skin tone was plain to see with his still mostly human face, his lips pulled back in a smile as he saw the menial worker coming into his shop. His hair had been completely replaced with black cables and data-shunts that went into his skull, all pulled back and then tied off at the back of his head so as to keep them out of the way, while his eyes were covered with a thin, wire-grilled visor that kept his eyes hidden, though his expressive brows were still visible above it. Large hands opened themselves up wide in welcome as he stepped towards the group, a thin mechadendrite setting the other styluses away for the moment before zipping back into his robes.

"Welcome my friends, welcome! I am happy to see you grace my humble little workshop! It gets somewhat tedious having only the spirits to speak to at times. They do the Omnissiah's work, but few here have a taste for the arts beyond the occasional toolwork or customized circuit board. But enough of my own problems, I have no doubt that you're here for something more to your own concerns. What can I help you with then today? A fresco? Chassis modification? Weapons styling?" he said, motioning to a set of chairs to the side. "Come come, do not be shy! Perhaps I can interest you in some water or recaf while you decide?"

Jaspar followed the smiling serf, the tension in his body relaxing as he realised the stranger was friendly. The walked a short distance, the cacophony of the forge falling away with the heat as they moved into a different area of the forge. They stopped at what looked like a small business nestled amongst the shadows. They were shown inside where a tech-priest welcomed them, strange metallic dreadlocks covered his head and a metal visor hid his eyes. He welcomed them and offered refreshments, all the while talking as they moved into his shop.

"Greetings, we are on an assignment concerning the Legio, assigned us by Magos Naveen. We were told you are a friend of the Legio. The recent events with Princeps Pak must be properly investigated, maybe you can help in our quest."

Jaspar looked at the new face, hoping he hadn't said too much about thier true purpose, not until they knew they could trust the tech-priest fully yet.

Dracon watched the filth covered serf carefully as they were led away from the forge proper to an area with less heat and noise. His hands remained on his weapons, something was niggling at him and he couldn't shake the feeling that something important was about to happen.

They were lead to a small workshop, a sign hanging outside and noise issueing from the other side of the door. They entered and found themselves in what looked like a junk yard sales office, partially deconstructed machinary and tools scattered all over the work surfaces. A dark skinned tech-priest came out of another room at the rear of the shop and Jaspar greeted him. Wary after thier close call with the Magos in the forge, Dracon stopped with his back to the door of the store and waited.

"Tech-Priest Harlocke, these men had a close run in with Overseer Hresh in the refinery after they got lost on their business. They could use a guide familiar with the workings of the forge and the mine complex beyond, one friendly to all and not just those of the forge. I immediately thought of you. The workers would see it as a great favor if you could accompany them, and safeguard the Legio's business."

The man keeps to one side, respectful of the tech-priest, and admiring of his work.

"If I may leave them in your capable hands? I must return to work or the Overseer will begin to question their presence once more."

He pauses, awaiting confirmation from the priest.

// I'm wary of using the spoiler tags as OOC. You won't know if you're looking at a comment from me, or opening up a dice roll that maybe you wanted to be left in the dark about. I was mainly using the Spoiler for those readers who might like to know what effect your tests, and NPC tests are having on the story. Quote would be a suitable alternative if all agree.In either case, I would rather see your rolls in the open as you have done all along.

"Of course, of course! I wouldn't want the Overseer to cause you any more grief. Omnissiah knows that the old rust-blood will take any excuse. Go on then, I'll see to our guests," he said, nodding to the serf while making the symbol of the cog with his hands. Once the man was gone, the techpriest looked over at his 'guests', his head cocking to one side somewhat in curiosity. "Well now, I may be able to help you boys out some... Perhaps you can tell me the details first and then I can help point in the right direction, hmmm? Oh, but where are my manners! My name is Harlocke, humble tech-priest of the 46th Silicon Truth. And you are?"

"Oliver Yu, Arbitrator and former bosun of the voidship Motherwill. Regards." Oliver's boots clicked together as he drew his limbs together in salute. "I must say, I respect a man of the arts. One can always bend another to his will, but it is another matter to do so without trauma physical or otherwise."

Oliver carefully took in the craftsman's atmosphere without breaking his stance. Certainly Harlocke was a man of virtue and worthy of trust. What better to measure a man with than the tools and tangible fruits of his labor? And what savory fruit indeed adorned the tech-priest's workshop.

/* Late post is late, and I apologize for that. Oliver values physical evidence people leave behind, as proof of their influence upon the world. As a result, he automatically favours artists and slaves who literally carve pieces of history into their surroundings. Even a thief deserves praise for hoarding treasures and eluding capture for so long, though that does not exempt him from his inevitable fate. In essence, Oliver prefers those who can prove not only that they existed, but lived. */

Jaspar grimaced slightly, he didn't wish to unveil thier cover straight away, but between Oliver giving out his real name, and the seemingly helpful and friendly nature of Harlocke, he decided it could do no harm. No more at least than they had already caused by wandering into the forge and bringing attention to themselves.

"Jaspar Voss, formerly of the Imperial Guard." He held out a hand towards the tech-priest in greeting as he spoke. "We are here on behalf of another of your order, investigating the circumstances surrounding the death of Princeps Pak. We are currently headed towards the hab-quarters for the Legio personnel, though the directions we were given proved a little harder to follow than I expected."

Looking round at Dracon, Jaspar noticed the punk haired individual had said nothing since saving them in the forge, his quick thinking more than likely saving thier emperor-blessed backsides.

Sorry for a bit of a delay posting, I've caught the flu and haven't been sleeping well for the last few days so my energy reserves have been low. To be honest I forgot for a couple of days that it was me up next and didn't check the site. Sorry again guys, will try n keep better watch from now on

Dracon lingered near the doorway, his hands moved from the handles of his weapons now, one hand occupied with his icon of the Emperor, the other held in front of his face as he looked at the small token the serf had given him. It seemed to be a necklace of some kind, so he pulled it over his head and made sure it could be seen resting atop his clothing.

The others seemed to have introduced themselves, the tech-priest they had been introduced to a welcone addition to the assets at their disposal for the completion of their mission. He noticed Jaspar glance over at him as the introductions were completed and he decided that it would be a good idea for him to introduce himself aswell. Stepping forward, he pocketed his icon and spoke.

"Dracon Sylvanto, a pleasure to meet you. I must agree with Oliver, you have some wonderful pieces in your collection. I would appreciate an opportunity to view some of your other works if time allows once our investigation is completed."