Suppressing the urge to punt the adept into the pit, Lazerus says, “Now that the gas is cleared we’ll go back and see what’s still alive. ” He opens one side of the shackles so Tauron can shrug into the very over- sized shirt Stig has provided.
The Arbiter then snaps the manacle back in place and tugs the young noble to the doors.
“A fine plan. As I said, I’d like to see what was in that chest I saw before. It seemed…important.” Tauron rambles as he let’s himself be dragged along.
Curtis falls in next to Stig. Lucius moves close and talks to Sila in hushed tones.
He then turns to Lazerus. “We will stay here for now. I must monitor the restart of the generatorium. They shall wait with me until Kron and Father Prose are mobile. ”
The tech priest walks off into the shadows of the generator banks. Sila is whispering to Kron.
Stig pulls the large doors open and the medical tape rips away. Wisps of gas gust along the ceiling and are suck away up the shaft.
The group moves out into the storage room once more.
The room is huge. Carved with Mechanicus lasers from the mountain bedrock, the vaulted chamber appears far more massive than it did cloaked in darkness. The place is a charnel house. Great swathes of blood are splattered and splashed across the floor, walls, and the piles of shipping containers, press foam cargo casks, iron stowage lockers and wooden crates stacked at random around the room. The containers are riddled with bullet holes and las burns and the twisted and burnt bodies of your enemies lie crumpled and ruined where they fell.
Curtis lets out a sigh of breathe as she surveys the total carnage.
The cargo lift is still stopped near the ceiling, its corner melted into a stalactite of hardened slag. A blood soaked, meat choked corridor leads off to the east and an identical passage heads south. A wet trail of bloody slime moves off down the southern way.