To begin this report, I am going to employ a bit of non-linear storytelling, as I believe a few things need to be made clear.
I have just successfully concluded sewing my own face back together. Ravia shot me. In the face.
Alright, so I’ll start from the begining. After we concluded our meeting with the Undertow leaders, we decided to follow up on another lead that they’d given us. Doing so we located a crazy guy and a massacre that seemed to corroborate the suspicions we already had. The crazy guy had witnessed our burly, bullet-resistant suspects at their gory work. They targeted a guy in a bar this time, right in front of dozens of (now deceased) witnesses, and took some trinket (mirror?) that he had from his cold dead hands. After that we took a look at the “scene of the crime” as it were, and it turns out he was right; everybody was dead. Apparently nobody had thought to clean up (or close the door so the crows couldn’t get in). No real clues, but we did find a hidy-hole with some cash. It’s always sad when a well respected drinking establishment closes under such ill circumstances. Pubs smeared with patron guts are something that the community can really do without.
Anyway, we headed back to the hotel, where we were roundly jumped by a pointy faced tall bastard surrounded by many smaller bastards. Now the first thing that the former bastard did was to weaken the barrier between reality and the Warp, then cause Ravia a seizure. Which was unfortunate, as she’d been posing rather dramatically with her rifle barrel more or less aimed at my face. She fell down, and I got a new hole between my top lip and my ear that wasn’t there before. Titus, concerned for my safety, rushed to the car to effect a getaway, but my implant (who had not been cooperating thus far; I’m not saying he’s doing a bad job, Inquisitor Lemarre, I’m sure he has his reasons, but when I come in next could you have a quiet word with him and maybe arrange for him to be less of a snarky twat? Or not… its really your call, no prssure, or anything…) suddenly decided that full force was neccesary, and I chameleoned to safety.
Ravia then made up for her bullet/face faux par by surgically removing the tall bastard’s arm with her second bullet. He screamed, thrashed around a bit, tehn fell down dead, and the otehr guys legged it under my covering fire. And what do you know? Some kind of Warpthing. Squeaked for a little while, then melted, but I got the impression that it was tied to somebody, who would probably be in a world of pain right this second. Pesky shapeshifting bastards.
Ravia also tried to shoot one of the bastards in the leg for questioning… but unfortunately the leg came off.
We then returned to the Hotel room, where I stitched my face hole shut and we all had cocoa. Tomorrow we’re going shopping on the black market.