After being singled out and inducted into the service of the Inquisition, things have not quite gone as you had imagined them. Removed from your past life, you have been tested and measured, questioned and interrogated, all in the name of the Inquisition. But aside from a few lectures given in darkened chambers that left you sick to your stomach and a seemingly endless stream of codes and ciphers given you to memorize and destroy, you have been left largely to your own devices. Lodging under a false name in an anonymous hab-block in Hive Sibellus, on Ascarvis, you have bided your time for weeks waiting for the call from your masters, and perhaps, their verdict.
The dataslate sits nearby, your mission briefing contained within. You have it's every detail memorized, The Inquisition’s attention has been stirred by the discovery of a body on the Sibellus transit rail. This is not in itself an uncommon occurrence; however the body, under forensic examination, showed extensive signs of surgical tampering and illegal organ-grafting indicative of heretical science. The Inquisition has kept the body and the incident under wraps, and has determined it to be that of a missing hab-worker called Saul Arbest. Arbest was reported missing over a month ago by his sister, from his home in the dilapidated Coscarla Division area of Hive Sibellus. The Inquisition is interested in just how this heretical biocraft wound up in the body of this otherwise unremarkable citizen and you are to await a briefing as to what is known before being dispatched to investigate. You have everything the dateslate offered memorized, for now you must destroy it. How you do so, is up to you. You only know you must, your mission requires subtly, and you know, the Inquisition would know if you failed to do so.
Almost as soon as you had dispatched the date slate. The call came, a blank-eyed courier delivered to you a note featuring the cipher of the Holy Ordos. The message within was simple and perfunctory, containing a time, a date and a location. The instruction to come prepared and expect company was signed off with a single epithet—
“The Emperor Protects” At the appointed hour, you made your way through the bustling faceless masses of the Administratum quarter to an unmarked service elevator platform set in the rear of a vast and imposing building covered in bas-reliefs of skulls, half draped urns and other symbols of death, crowned by an immense statue of a weeping saint. It appears that you are expected; the wizened face of the platform’s inbuilt servitor with it's stretched human face studies you, and pronounces
“Pass” as you climb on board. As the note implied, you were not the only person called, and you make for an uncomfortable and diverse looking group standing in tense silence as the crowds throng by. The servitor control chimes active as the last one of you boards the platform and the elevator descends with a churning of gears as the hatchway closes above you all with a thunderous boom. The platform continues downward for some minutes through maintenance levels, deep into the bowels of the government district. Allowing our party to truly look upon one another for the first time.
