wanderingwolf

The Namespace of the Rose

Something didn't sit well with Vigrid: how did Passivity-SEA know about the cogitators at the heart of the investigation? What did Passivity know about the contents of those cogitators? It was curious for her to offer up her knowledge of the unknowable in such a forthright manner. Though also curious was her 'boundless and public' hatred for Archmagos Toros. This matter was a sensitive one, as it seemed to him that their suspect was too up-front about their position on the victim for there not to be a smokescreen somewhere therein.

"These cogitators," Vigrid began after making sure Ramona's declarative question sank in, "what do you know of their contents? You say they contain twisted knowledge, but of what subject matter? And, forgive my ignorance, but how did you come to know the cogitators had been 'stolen'?"

The particulars of the display before him slipped right past Vigrid as the Space Marine did his level best to pay all attention to the subject Passivity-SEA. Any detail in their demeanor might betray more than this outward expression and it was obvious to him that Passivity's words carried more weight than anything in this room. While Ramona baited, Vigrid went for a more direct approach.

The Namespace of the Rose

So it was very possible that paint from the Space Marine's armor had transferred to such a contraption as those serving as target practice here. This Magos Passivity-SEA...

That's when Vigrid heard it.

The auditory display that unfolded before the trio of them was of such intensity that it caused Vigrid's face to go stony. His personal feelings about the pursuit of this 'knowledge' were plain to himself, but that opinion did not get expressed aloud. Ever. These were delicate matters of which Vigrid was sure any misstep or miscalculation would cause irreparable harm to the investigation of the Archmagos' murder. Instead, at the greeting of Passivity-SEA, Vigrid bowed his head slightly and saluted with his hand over his chest before replying. "Omnissiah be praised." In this context the words felt like blasphemy. As his eyes darted over the display of the twin mechadendrite, he continued, "May we have a moment of your time, Magos? We are following an investigation pertaining to the apparent burglary of the Archmagos Toros which resulted in her death."

He was still keenly aware of Eunicornus and Ramona by his side, and he took no step forward toward the Magos until her reply. The way she looked, dressed in ceremonial robes still seated upon that throne, made Vigrid wonder if Passivity-SEA was a doer or a planner. Internally, he was building a theory which could be shaken in an instant depending on Passivity's reply to his query. If Passivity-SEA had any motive against the Archmagos, it may have been possible to use any of these devices to perpetrate the heinous act that resulted in the death of Toros. Displacer fields were painfully present in this house of 'worship' and that technology alone was enough to prompt thorough investigation. Whether Passivity-SEA was open to such an investigation was another matter entirely.

The next few moments would tell Vigrid all he needed to know about this Magos...

The Namespace of the Rose

Taking in the sights and sounds of the 'temple' was, to Vigrid Brand, a task of obligation, where their duel was an object of pleasure. The subject matter, though, Vigrid found fascinating. A hall of knowledge based solely on understanding the martial means of their enemies? What appeared to be a paradox in their representation of the Enemy, these machines were simulating what could only be described as the very peak of their species' performance in battle. What he wouldn't give to throw down the gauntlet to any one of these simulations to learn and adapt to their battle movements. He glanced at Eunicornus with a touch of jealousy in his eye.

The pipes. Magos Stoll. Vigrid shuddered at the phantom feeling of Stoll's many eyes trained on his back. With a wary glance behind him, the phantom was lifted, still the memories of reassembling machines in the darkness beneath their feet remained. It was a rite of passage, and like any before it, he had become the sum of the milestone. Still, he loathed the idea of returning to Stoll, and with the open question of the Achmagos' cogitators still gnawing at him, he feared his reprieve from the lair of the Necromechanic was soon to end. Vigrid bit his cheek as he focused on his guide's leading.

As his massive steps kept pace with Eunicornus', he made room for Ramona, being conscious of the human beside them. It was this extended consciousness that made him reach slightly toward his weapon as the uncanny figure's gaze fell over him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose--though that feeling was an often relied upon mechanism of his body and meant no special case--as he studied the ungainly creature for a few moments. Then something dawned on him.

Ramona and he had been searching for something that stretched their concepts of what could and could not happen logically in the Archmagos' sanctum. The rules of displacer fields, the size of the assailant, a transfer of paint implicating the Dark Angel. But these creatures, though facsimile, threatened that very notion.

"Have you done battle with all of these simulations, Eunicornus? Would it be plausible for paint from your armor to transfer in such a sparring match?" The wheels continued to turn, "Who is the High Ward of these 'research subjects?'" He turned to Ramona for a moment, "I'd like a full account of all these mechanical creatures at the time of the Archmagos' murder."

He couldn't help it. He threw a glance over his shoulder at the uncanny figure standing over the three Sicarians.

Finally, he returned his gaze to their host. The armor of a Space Marine left everything to the imagination, except that he knew what lay beneath being one himself. The disfigured, flexed, ported, and disproportionate being beneath the plates was not something to display, surely, but when speaking with a Brother, especially when sharing as freely as they did now, there were some... pleasantries to abide. Like looking each other in the eye. It didn't make him angry, but it somehow still gnawed at him, as if the figure before them was sheltering a secret from him. A secret he felt beginning to take seed in his mind.

Hrmm, Eunicornus had moved with such grace and elegance in their duel. Never once did they--yes 'they'--gender themselves when communicating. Vigrid took another hard look, as if expecting to be able to see shapes of eyes through their visor.

The Namespace of the Rose

The more he pulled at this thread, the less satisfying the answers to his questions. 'Exactly the right angle...' 'Vindicare Temple of Snipers...' 'Robot...' 'Xenos treachery...' Though Eunicornus had been very elucidatory, the answers to this question sat squarely somewhere between 'very lucky' and 'unknown technology.' Vigrid fidgeted as it became obvious from the awe in Eunicornus' voice that they had finished speaking and had come to the end of their knowledge about the subject--at least the end of their summary knowledge. Anything else was probably burned into their muscle memory on how to combat this technology. The hair on the back of Vigrid's neck stood up.

From the corner of his eye Vigrid noticed the ungloved hands of Ramona as she struck her pipe. The fine motor functions of her digits danced precisely along her task as something which was a matter of course. When she voiced her opinion, he added:

"I concur, whomever supplied the Archmagos with the Displacer Field must have sabotaged it. Luck is a fool's word for the preparation of the wise," for a moment he turned to Ramona, as if logging the information aloud and summarizing his train of thought in case it sparked something for his cohort. "You wouldn't happen to know where Archmagos Toros may have obtained such technology, would you?"

His question was met by the visored eyes of Eunicornus. There was something there, in that split second Vigrid met their gaze, something that tugged at his gut. Why had Eunicornus not removed their mask? Sure, some Astartes, especially those who had been alone on missions for too long, who preferred to keep their helmets on, but there was something else here. Could it be that Eunicornus lost more than just their arms in battle, and they--for some reason unknown--did not see fit to show their scars? It could be nothing. But there was a conspiracy rising in the back of Vigrid's mind as he took another appraising look of Eunicornus, now that they were both relaxed and conversing. Maybe their body language or something in their armor had more to tell him.

When Ramona introduced herself, she met his eye for a moment, searchingly. Something nagged him in the back of his mind still, but he brought himself to reply with a curt nod in the negative: this Astartes was not their assassin. At her request for a tour, Vigrid eyed the Dark Angel, measuring their response.

The Namespace of the Rose

Eunicornus was every bit as surprising in conversation as they were in battle. This Marine had extensive knowledge of something which Vigrid had no idea, and hearing them wax and wane on the subject grew a new respect for his Brother just in the hearing. There was a way in which their eyes lit up when they spoke about the displacer field--the way they studied it, the capabilities, the challenges, the pursuit of 'countermeasure techniques.' Among his immediate pack, he occupied the space as resident technical specialist (nerd), but even being one of the 'technically minded' among his Bretheren still set him up as the meat-head hammer in contrast to Eunicornus. That gave him an idea.

"Your pursuit is fascinating. I myself am Vigrid Brand of the Space Wolves Chapter, newly minted Techmarine en route back to Fenris to undergo the necessary rituals. The Emperor has guided me to you, Eunicornus, of that I have no doubt." Vigrid took another swig of his Mjod, before loosely offering it to Eunicornus again. He continued, "Your expertise in this matter is very fortuitous. May I lean on your specialty for a sensitive matter?" The Space Wolf met the Dark Angel's eye, solemnly now. The non-verbal assent bid him to continue. "The Archmagos is dead. I am investigating her death. Archmagos Toros was also in possession of a displacer field that misfired. Could I run the facts of the case by you in respect to this technology?"

If Eunicornus accepts the proposal to talk about this thing that tickles their nerd fancy, Vigrid will fill them in on all the details of the case as pertain to the displacer field functionality, facts of where it teleported, when it triggered, the assumed order of events, etc.

"Do you have any thoughts on the order of events or what might cause a displacer field to trigger too late?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Vigrid noticed Ramona's approach. She stood a respectable distance away, but Vigrid motioned for her to join them, offering her his over-sized-to-her fur-lined canteen filled with Mjod. Then he returned his full attention to Eunicornus.

The Namespace of the Rose

Uh-huh, rancid was right. Vigrid, feeling that sixth sense breathing down his neck, relaxed his shoulders and trained his gaze on the Brother. Any tips of the hand, tensing, and casting glances over shoulders could scuttle things. They were being watched, no doubt about it. Debating for a moment, in a fluid motion, Vigrid turned to Ramona to give a subtle inclination of his chin. A nod that things were copacetic, before spitting his own blood on the ground beside him and turning back to Eunicornus.

She'd get it. Probably.

Eunicornus had more to give than this exciting battle which had not disappointed. The Brother had more to give, yes, but he also had something to receive. Now, to that awkward Astartes in desperate need of a little heart-to-heart...

"Brother!" Vigrid shouted, his bassy voice carrying up the stairs and into the echoing cube. His axehead slammed into the ground as he perched a foot on top of it, the other arm waving. "Now *that* was an exhilarating battle!" He dismounted his axe before taking the steps two-at-a-time to arrive at the top beside the towering Blood Angel. "But you know all about exhilarating battle, don't you?" Vigrid pointed his axe-free hand at his own left pauldron. Reaching into the pouch at his hip, the Space Wolf extracted a flask lined in fur and took a deep swig before holding it out to the Blood Angel. [I'd like to spend some reassurance, not sure how this works, maybe 1 point to start?]

The Namespace of the Rose

It was all that Vigrid could do to wrap his weapon in his grip as he lost all balance and tumbled down the stairs. Eunicornus' kick was a decisive and impactful reminder that the Dark Angel considered themselves the better warrior; they were not wrong. This duel, though one sided, was a grounding reminder of their ancient brethren, and an informative intellectual pursuit to understand the falseness in the arranged evidence that pointed to the only other Astartes in the hive. Eunicornus was not the assassin (or one of the assasins) of Archmagos Toros. There was no way this marksmanship could have: a) fired without triggering the displacer field (Wait, what even is a displacer field?(No, I still don't know anything about what can disable or manipulate a displacer field)), b) could have targeted exactly where the Archmagos teleported before they even arrived on the spot.

As Vigrid's armor impacted each of the two dozen stairs, he had plenty to think about.

Evidence undermined:
1. Boot print --- likely planted
2. Bolter gun use --- likely not from this weapon
3. Bolter round itself --- painted in the raiment of the Dark Angels as a red herring

Each impact drove home another harrowing thought:

Vigrid and Ramona were exactly where the planter of this evidence had expected them to follow... That could mean myriad things, two of which were an ambush, or a feint to do accomplish something else while they were occupied. This dead end may prove a lethal blow to their investigation if they don't rally quickly and return to the ivory tower.

Those were the last thoughts in Vigrid's mind as his body landed at the base of the two staircases, sprawled except for his tight grip to his weapon. From his place on the ground, the Space Wolf regarded Eunicornus at the top of the stairs; their planted stance an indication that this duel was coming to a close. They had expelled Vigrid from the space, just as Fenris had been bested and spared. The Marine stood, his cheek and lip bloodied from the exchange, and nodded at Eunicornus on the high ground. This encounter had satisfied both Vigrid's desire to move his limbs on this dusty hive, and to further his grasp of the situation regarding the Archmagos. Eunicornus had served him well in both regards.

The Namespace of the Rose

This combat was so much more than Vigrid had hoped. The Angel was otherworldly; the way Eunicornus moved, the speed with which the blows landed, countered, returned, and parried was a sight to behold. Between flourishes, Vigrid was able to spy the detail etched into the left pauldron of his dueling partner. The battle displayed was baffling; the cost both of Eunicornus' arms. The awe that painted Vigrid's face was in plain view. Such a battle he could only imagine, and his vicarious reading and recognition of the encounter drove him onward. It was an honor, this duel--this beautiful combat, so natural as breathing, so welcome as falling asleep, and yet... And yet he knew this glorious duel was not the purpose of this mission.

Eunicornus was still a suspect that needed to be examined as the murderer of the Archmagos. To pull the thread that needed pulling, Vigrid had to see the pistol. Had to witness Eunicornus' marksmanship. A wild and pricking thought crossed his mind, as he begrudgingly countered backward, deflected hammering blow after blow powered by those cybernetic arms.

The Marine took a deep breath. He held it there, building, and tapped into a reserve of strength he had yet unlocked. All that reserve went to the cowering sound which erupted from his mouth, a mighty scream; a piercing warcry. A catalyst to beg a reaction. [Spending 2 points of Intimidation]

The Namespace of the Rose

"What do you know about Eunicornius?"--

"Finally," the great brute breathed, tone full of anticipation, his arms rolling martially in their shoulder cuffs, the chainaxe at his side was already in his massive fists. The look in his cold blue eyes was excitement. Yes, this was the first good development, meeting this Blood Angel, all day. A good distraction from mind games. An ancient tradition to ground him. Emperor, this was exactly what he needed. He rolled his neck, audible cracks echoing as stiffness from looking at clues and craning for cogitators worked its way out of his joints.

There was something about Eunicornus' plate; the display of ancient battles seemed to call to him. As the Space Wolf approached the matter at hand, he concentrated the first few moments of his battle scan on the markings in his duel-mate's armor. Any knowledge of battles won and victories earned could give him more insight into his opponent and their history. [Spend 1 point in Art History]

In the moments before he stepped in front of Ramona, he glanced at her and slightly shook his gargantuan head, the mass of kempt beard
and mustache following. The look in his eye was frighteningly joyous, wide lids and high cheeks expressing emotions the Marine felt. To Ramona it might look psychotic, or it might be encouraging that he wasn't surprised by the development of having another Marine approach them with ill-intent.

The Namespace of the Rose

Vigrid had interrogated the fragments of what appeared to be bolter rounds, painted blue. With a seminal thinking sound that emanated from the brute's deep chest, he responded, "This color is not compliant with any Chapter I ken." He then listened to the woman's gathering thoughts, and how this all seemed to point to the Dark Angels--'all' except for the color of this round. The height of the kick on the door, the transference of paint hue matching the Dark Angels' hue, the presence of a bolter...

"Agreed," the Space Marine said, as he took one last sweep of the space inside here. Too many questions, not enough answers except this one: What appears to have happened here is not what happened in actuality. There is more to the story of what happened to the Archmagos; much more than a simple burglary as framed by the Skitarii. Vigrid was still not convinced that the simplicity of the report was not in itself a gambit to throw off potential investigators, as this report, without the presence of himself and this woman, would have become the official one. He knew he needed to discuss this with the Captain of the Skitarii in order to further intuit her motives.

Yet the threads they needed to pull, the biggest thread to unravel, was the expected presence of the Dark Angel; and so the pair entered into this place which was full of cackling electricity, and the sounds of supplication Vigrid was not familiar with. At home, fealty was something pledged and acted out in a wholly different way than the display here in this 'garden' surrounding him and his compatriot by coincidence. The presence of combat practice in this place did, however, set him more at ease as it was a comfortable feeling to be in a place dedicated to the honing of martial skill.

Vigrid scanned the space for the presence of the Dark Angel they pursued for questioning.