We journeyed to the Pit of Voices to consult the Astropaths about the whereabouts of the Assassin’s Masters.
Strange place, felt like something was crawling underneath my skin. Voices faintly whispering in my ears and almost discernible shapes in my periphery.
So in a way I wasn’t surprised when we came across some corpses lying on the floor that provided an anchor for a viscous and permeable cloud of magic that swirled, expanded and contracted from the corpse, shooting projectiles of magic at us as we tried to figure out how to fell it. Apparently the bodies were connected, and a quick Krak grenade did the trick.
Not long after that encounter we ended up in front of a little girl, seemingly innocent were it not for the trance-like gleam in her eyes, head cocked in a contorted and visceral way.
After psychically disarming our friends of lesser intellect, she spoke to Sybil and we were able to ascertain that our Assassin’s masters resided somewhere thought to be abandoned.
With careful consideration we surmised that the Statue of the God Emperor would more than suffice to hide in plain sight. So we ventured in…
The most unholy of sacraments was taking place in the statues innards. Dozens of zealots worshiping tenaciously, whipping up a fervor of religious mischief. So we decided to rain on their parade, and we let the bullets fly.
We made swiss cheese of most of them, then took out the head priest, whose body crumbled into an unholy demon. Sometimes I wonder why I ever bothered to journey with this group; this was anything but a step in the direction of my brother’s killers.
After dispatching the sycophants, we made our back to the ship for new orders, the Liege’s assassin and his ilk brought finally to justice. I was happy to get off this forsaken rock and back into the calm of the void.