Placing the single chair the room possessed rather precariously between two leaks in the ceiling of the room, Salvius picked up his prized dataslate to read up on the hive of Ephron V. Salvius and Gormog had finally found a dingy hab block where one could rent an apartment no questions asked, money up front. Or barter for that matter. You did not require a noble's purse to afford this place. The neighbourhood was bad to say the least. Vehicles, such as they were, drove fast and dangerous: it was more dangerous to stop. Gunfire was never far off as gangers roamed the streets looking for prey. Other pedestrians looked so dishevelled they did not attract attention of the petty criminals,  or so diseased or misformed nobody strayed close at all. For the Underhive was not far below, and who knew what kind of disease, violence and corruption ran rampart down there. The entire area had the smell of age old stagnant poverity seeping from the very bricks and mortar.

This stagnance rankled Salvius. How could these people continue to live like this for so long? Why did they fight to change their fate with so little conviction? To Salvius, the gangers actually were the most worthy of praise: They fought to change their lives, to get rich and powerful or die trying. Their ambitions were dull and insignificant, but better then the dross and scared citizens living under both the thumbs of the gangs as the corpse god. 

But something was off. Whispers from the warp tickled the back of Salvius' mind. Why was the flooring of the basement of the building he occupied made of stone which was centuries, maybe even millennia older then the rest of the building? Had the original building been razed? Why? Had great change occurred here? Expertly navigating the archive contained in his dataslate, Salvius explored the historical records of Ephron V. Here too he found discrepancies. Why did this planet rise to prominence only in the last few thousand years if the building he was in now suggested an extensive Hive had existed for far longer? The story of Ephron V seemed constructed, manufactured...  [i]Fake[/i]. "Grab your gear Gormog. We're going on a little archeology expedition."

Salvius deemed this place the most likely to have escaped the "corrections" made to this hive. The shrine was of a medium size and appeared as neglected as the rest of the neighbourhood, but it was the largest of this level of the hive. It's furnishings were worn down to the point of collapse. It's altar had been shoddily painted a disgusting tone of yellow, possibly to imitate gold. The walls were of same ancient stone as the apartments cellar, and mostly unadorned. In some places, like the huge slab of stone behind the altar, you could see faint traces of worn away reliefs. Salvius had just asked the local preacher what it had originally depicted.

"Nobody really knows. Rumors suggest it was a glorious depiction of the imperial aquila, crusted in gold to honor the glory of the Emperor and His Imperium. Most venerable... Most venerable..." said the preacher, called father Wilbur, with a sleazy grin on his face. They were walking through the nave of the shrine towards the altar. Gormog stood towering next to the doorway a few yards away. "I see," said Salvius, "you must be very proud of your shrine. I imagine your flock steeped in awe when they look upon it during your salmons. Would you mind if I took a closer look?" Without waiting for an answer Salvius stepped onto the altar and took out his auspex scanner and used the device on the relief. And there it was plain as day. Cleverly hidden to avoid the purge that apparently had been brought upon this planet. The relief was coated in slowly decaying radioactive material in a particular pattern. "The eight pointed star again."

"Yes." Said a voice dangerously close to Salvius' ear. "The eight pointed star of the true gods. You seem like a gentleman and a scholar, but you better convince me you are also something else if you'd like to keep drawing breath my friend." Father Wilbur's face had lost its idiotic grin, his voice had lost the air of an easily bribed agent of the ecclesiarchy. A friendly arm seemed to lay across the shoulders of Salvius, but hidden in Wilbur's hand lay a curved knife at Salvius' throat. Using the power of his mind and the warp, Salvius sent his thoughts into Wilbur's conscious: [i]Is this proof enough of my... abilities and character?[/i] Turning his head, Salvius looked into eyes of similar colour to his own: Blue and gold.

Wilbur abruptly retrieved his arm and knife from Salvius. "A fated brother is always welcome to practice his faith in my little shrine. Especially one of such eccentric skill." While he talked, Wilbur retrieved a small envelope from a drawer of a desk in the corner. Handing it over, he said: "I feel you might be given a grand fate by our master, but you must learn more. Let my gift guide your way to knowledge." With that he retreated to his private quarters. Walking to the entrance, Salvius opened the small envelope. It contained a small card and stone. The small card showed an eight pointed star and read in small print below: [i]The Gentlemen's Boutique of Intriguing Antiques[/i]. "Gormog, do you have an interest for antiques? A man of your stature and impeccable taste, I expect so. Let us discuss the qualities of the furniture from M36..."

[@Hank]