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[Ungodly]

You begin searching the corpses, trying to be as careful as you can around the cultists. Unfortunately, it seems as though the PDF/Guardsmen had been in a prolonged firefight, and have no ammo or usable supplies on them. They all carry standard issue lasguns and wear guard flak armor. So far as you can tell, they are free of the taint of Chaos. Looking at their dog tags, it appears they are a local PDF unit, whether in league with the rebels, or still loyal to the governor and the Imperium, you can't say.

The cultists... the cultists are a bit different. Some had their masks blown off when they were killed, revealing several with normal enough looking faces, but others with mandibles in place of their mouths or rows of razor sharp teeth. Others have discolored skin or hardened carapaces. A few even have extra arms growing out of their backs which end in wicked claws. Further, several have had their skin grow over their weapons, causing their weapons to become embedded in their arms. You come to one particularly large cultist who looks like he may have been a leader. Searching him, you find an antique key in one of his pockets. It has only 3 teeth on it and feels heavy in your hand.

Taking it out, it grows warm before producing a holographic crest above it. While you don't know off the top of your head who the crest belongs to, you know enough to know it is a noble house. Further, the key is finely crafted, with numerous gems and precious metals used. Whoever had it made had, or has, quite a bit of money. None of the other cultists have any identifying items or usable supplies on them. 

[Make a Common Lore: Imperium test to identify the crest displayed by the key]

[Dommykins]

"Found something." Still squatted over the the cultists, Roth holds up the key and racks his brain for any information on the crest.

Rolled 1d100 : 14, total 14

tn 34

(I don't know if anybody else has the skill, or a higher tn than 34 or whatever but I'm just gonna roll and if anybody would like to add the assist or wants me to assist instead that's fine, just doing this for sake of time + not knowing shit about the rest of our party.)

[Panther]

(turned out well here but you can't make the roll and THEN decide if someones assisting you/you aren't actually rolling because it's kind of cheating)

[Ungodly]

You get a sudden sinking feeling in your stomach. This is the crest of the governor.

Further, you notice something... odd... about the cultists the more you look at them. You may make a Common Lore: Imperium, Common Lore: Adeptus Arbites, Common Lore: Imperial Guard, or Common Lore: War check to further identify what is throwing you off.

[Panther]

"It's the governor's crest!" Jerrick adds insightfully.

[Dommykins]

"Feth..." Roth trails off into a low grunt and absentmindedly fishes for a Lho while giving the cultists another once over.
 

Rolled 1d100 : 66, total 66

Common Lore: Arbites tn 34

[Ungodly]

On the edge of your memory, you feel like you may have seen cultists similar to these ones. Perhaps a training holotape? You can't remember, but they look like a particular type of cult.

[Panther]

Jerrick continues trying to explain the concept of the crest being the Governor's to the rest of the group, but they seem disinterested for some reason. He sighs and turns to the psyker. "Sev, you said you sensed an abomination. I dunno how you.. uh, your powers and stuff work. No offense. Can you tell which way it is? Whatever it is it's probably where their lair is, and where we unfortunately want to go. Uh, if not then I guess we could wait for our friend to wake up. Maybe she has an idea where they'd go."

[Ungodly]

You wait around for some time, the storm around you continuing to grow worse. Large, heavy wet flakes of snow come down rapidly, creating near white out conditions. The rubble and remaining standing buildings offer protection from the storm as it howls around you. In addition, it begins to grow dark, even darker than earlier as the planet's night cycle begins. You have approximately 2 hours of light left before it becomes near pitch black, this area of the city being largely without power. Slowly, Praetia regains consciousness.

"Emperor's teeth!" she clutches her leg, gritting her teeth. She breathes heavily for a few moments regaining her composure before looking around. "Where the feth am I...?"

[Panther]

"Oh wow." Jerrick tosses Roth a couple credits. "I knew you'd make it! We're not too far from where you blacked out. We avoided a skirmish between a group of cultists and some guardsmen-lookin' guys. Guardsmen lost. More importantly, we found the Governor's crest on the cultists. Might be your rebels are fighting against a tainted government. Might be they aren't really rebels. We don't know where the cultists ran off to though, any idea where their lair would be?"

[Dommykins]

Roth flashes a toothy grin as his shoves the money in one of many, many pockets. "The very picture of an optimist, him." He leans down and offers the girl a Lho, then sticks his free hand on his chest. [Inquisitor. Not sure if you can answer, but we ran into a skirmish between some 'rebels' and cultists, we found an old key with the emblazoned with the Governors crest on one of cultists. Can't say anything conclusive with just this key, but when the Inquisition purges the planet they might want to be on guard for Chaos forces. If we find anything further, we'll tell you.]

[Ungodly]

"Oh wow." Jerrick tosses Roth a couple credits. "I knew you'd make it! We're not too far from where you blacked out. We avoided a skirmish between a group of cultists and some guardsmen-lookin' guys. Guardsmen lost. More importantly, we found the Governor's crest on the cultists. Might be your rebels are fighting against a tainted government. Might be they aren't really rebels. We don't know where the cultists ran off to though, any idea where their lair would be?"

"Oh, good... I guess. Well, we haven't really had a presence in this part of the city since, you know, the whole cultist rebel faction took over, so no, I have no idea. I need to take a look at that key you have there though. I think I might know where it's from, and if it is, we're probably even more fethed than we thought we were, because it means the governor's in on it, or the cultists have access to the palace. But for now, I think we need to get back to the main city and look into it ourselves. I can get us there, it will just take time." She winces again, holding her leg. "Emperor's throne this hurts. I don't suppose any of you would have a bottle of something cheap that smells like promethium, would you?"

[Panther]

"Wouldn't be a proper merc-crew without some," Jerrick says somewhat cheerily as he takes out one of his firebombs from a pocket in his armor. He pulls the cork off, removes the cloth, and downs a gulp of it. Slapping a hand over his mouth and fighting back a pained expression, he forces it down. "Ohemprah" he coughs out after a moment, "Still-" *cough* *cough* "-good!" He forces a smile, "Standard policy of mine, never face the harshness of the galaxy without fire or hooch." He holds the bottle out to her. "So I pack both in the same spot."

[Dommykins]

Roth takes his hand off his chest and quickly grabs the bottle of hopefully-not-actual-fething-promethium, after a few swigs he feels a little better. Though he'd feel a lot better if he could be certain the warmth in his lungs was the booze working it's magic, and not the promethium these things are supposed to be filled with burning him inside out. Either way, he hands the bottle to Praetia and flashes the key in front of her for her inspection. "So. How fethed are we?"

[Ungodly]

She takes the bottle, chugging about a quarter of it. "You call this rotgut? Ha!" She takes another drink before setting the bottle down and looking at the key. She turns it around in her hands several times before getting the hologram to activate again. "Lords of Terra..." She seems unwilling to believe it. "If I'm right, this key goes to the servant's entrance of the palace, and we are so fethed I don't know what in Throne's name we're gonna do." She grabs the bottle and takes another drink, and then another before she gets a strange look in her eye. "Actually... I'll tell you what we're gonna do. We're gonna go to the Arbites' station and I'm gonna get a gun and get myself patched up. Then... then I think we're gonna need to think some more over something to eat and drinks that'll take the grime off an Ork. Then maybe we'll have a plan, or at least be pleasantly numb to our situation." She looks thoughtful for a moment, before addressing the group again. "We need to get going though, this storm is only going to get worse, and roaming in white out conditions in rebel controlled territory seems like a good way to get our ticket punched nice and quick. And um..." She looks embarrassed, her face and ears turning red, which stand out even more against her white skin. "One of you give me a hand up, will you? I can't walk with this fethed up leg you know..." Her voice trails off, waiting for someone else to act.