Re: The Question of Heresy (Game Thread)
Thio's suggestion that the ladies swapped room with the gents met with no resistance, and so the noble and the hive prole swapped with the arbiter and gunman.
Of the time and nature of their meeting with Argus, none of them could say. Even Lili confessed that she hadn't given the offer of meeting with the ganger any serious consideration at the time, believing that she would have been well on her way out of Corscala by this late hour.
Time passed, with Zieg keeping his door open just a crack so that he could see the stairway landing. Mordeci, in his usual casual manner, tipped his brimmed hat low and got some shut eye. Gallus was left to his own devices with the cybermastiff in the 3A room. The ways of tech-priests were over the heads of the loyal citizens in their blessed ignorance in all things technological. Finally, in the woman's room, Lili sat upon the edge of the bed, in awkward, numbed silence.
"I don't know what I'm doing here," she confesses at some point. "I don't know why my life should be in danger. I'm nothing to nobody. I'm not important. I'm one of billions in this hive alone. What Argus suggest just doesn't make sense. I don't have enemies."
Aside from this pondering, Lili does get around to thanking Thiopia for taking care of her, being a stranger and all.
"I don't suppose you could tell me a bit more detail about who exactly you and your friends are? It's just strange, a Coblast Array reclaimator team coming here and showing interest in Saul and me. I mean, I couldn't say if Saul wasn't involved with something important to your bosses, but I'm certainly not. I guess... I just wonder what you're getting out of all of this by protecting me?"
---
About an hour after the acolytes are situated in their rooms, most all but Zieg have taken to relaxing after a day of travel and inquiry. And so it is that really only the Arbitrator notices just how utterly quiet the night cycle in Corscala has gotten, with only the distant hum of the huge, sweeping ventilation fans on the level's metallic ceiling breaking the otherwise absence of sound. Then, in the distance, Zieg hears a faint sound, but most certainly a scream. Somewhere out in the district, something was happening. Something horrific. The scream died out and once again there was chilling silence.
Then, perhaps twenty seconds later, there were footfalls in the direction of the stairs. Hushed voices, speaking in a gutteral tongue that was barely gothic. Zieg strained his ears trying to hear.
"...d there was meat on 'em."
"Oh aye. Aye."
"An' women too."
"Softer. More chewy."
"Aye, aye."
"...ve the keys..."
"...sleeping..."
"Quiet. They'll hear..."
Through the frame of the doorway, Zieg saw a line of stringy, half-starved looking dregs shamble up the stairs. These were desperate, horrid looking men - more akin to ghouls. Not gangers, but savage wastrels who prowled the alleyways of the underhive. The sort that the enforcers here supposedly hunted for sport. They were dressed in rags and scavenged patchwork trousers. Dirty, unhygenic, and all of them looking like homeless sociopaths, which was probably exactly what they were. There was scum... and then there was these dregs who made other hivers look like nobles by comparison. Each of them carries some crude, scavenged hand weapon, wielded like clubs.
The lead one had keys in his hand which he held tight to keep them from jingling. He puts his hand up just before the doorway to the hall and signals for the men behind him to hush. Then he pricks his ears up. he doesn't seem to have seen Zieg through the small crack in the door, but rather he appears to be listening carefully.
Zieg listens too, and notices that there's a strange skittering sound, somewhat familiar, sounding from somewhere above them.
