Re: The WH40k RP - Talio Secundus
Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 11:58 pm
Milo had been carefully arranging his cloak to cover his pistols when Pahr had approached him about the assassin's dream. Still unsettled by the feeling of emptiness emanating from Pahr - as if there was nobody actually there - Trask composed himself and answered, "As an agent of the Inquisition, I can't say anything; the mission ahead of us is all that matters. As a humble servant of the Emperor, and an erstwhile shepherd of His flock... such a vision is doubly intriguing, coming from an omega-plus assignment such as yourself. Does it mean that you will sacrifice yourself in some way for our safety or success? Maybe it means that you have already sacrificed, being possessed of the Pariah gene, and that this will be instrumental to us? I don't know. The brothers of the Officio Assassinorum are known as vital tools of the Imperium - I believe that this is due less to their unique abilities, and more to their dedication and piety to the Emperor." Pahr seemed humbled by the compliment but less than satisfied with the answer. Trask continued, "I can tell you this for certain - your faith, your zeal, and your gift will serve the Throne well."
Pahr bowed his head slightly and said, "Thank you, interrogator. Throne protect you."
"It will. And the Emperor's gaze will be upon you from now until His rebir- er... until the end." Pahr looked at the interrogator's face quizzically for a moment, and Trask hurried to attend some meaningless adjustment of his gear. Galatea emerged from the cellar staircase, and Trask quickly motioned her towards the door.
It was a short walk to the dilapidated chapel that served as the center on the Imperial cult in Sociona. Incartarus made the sign of the aquila as they approached, while Milo just clucked in disapproval at the state of the house of worship. "I don't know if the state of this area is reflected in the condition of this church, or if the state of the church is a cause for the condition of the town," he muttered, half to himself. Galatea turned her eyes toward him, and nodded sagely. Trask laughed hoarsely and said, "I am a simple priest, turned toward another means of serving the Emperor. Not everything I say needs to be treated like a writ from Holy Terra."
"Sorry," the novice said quietly. "I didn't mean to..."
"Nonsense," answered Trask. "But in my apprenticeship to the Inquisition, one thing I'm learning is that there are countless servants of the Imperium who can blindly follow orders - the ones who will make a difference are the ones who can think for themselves... who can consciously apply their skills to their faith, and to their service to the Imperium of Man. Ah, here we are," he finished as they climbed the shallow steps up to the doors of the church. The paint on the doors was fading and peeling, and their hinges made a squeal of age and ill repair as Milo pushed one of the massive doors open. The interior of the church was dim from the haze on the windows and the marked absence of glowglobes. The only light at all came from an array of candleabras, tables full of votive candles, and a line of braziers down each long wall.
As Galatea's eyes (and Trask's one biological eye) adjusted to the dim light, both of them simultaneously caught their breath. The interior of the chapel was as breathtakingly appointed as the outside was decrepit. Well-polished, seemingly-genuine hardwood pews filled the floor of the chapel; an exquisitely gilded statue of the Emperor stood against the back wall, under a golden chandelier. The carpet in the aisle between the pews and on the dais itself was plush and unstained, and the walls were covered by unfaded hangings. The tapestries were exquisite: one depicted the Emperor smiting Horus, while another showed a stylization of the Emperor imprisoning the Dragon of Mars. The arras on the far wall, behind the dais and the statue, was less clear - it seemed to be a picture of a sun disc or some such, with only two uneven rays, but the mottled colors made it difficult to pick out the shapes at all. Trask chalked it up to the fairly common practice of incorporating preexisting local religions into the the implantation of the Imperial Cult.
"What can I help you with, children?" asked a soft-spoken voice. A rotund, balding man in a preist's cassock emerged from rectory and hurried down the aisle toward them. He stopped short as he caught a better view of Incartarus' imposing armor and the wide-barreled meltagun hanging from her shoulder.
"Go with me," Trask muttered under his breath to Galatea, then addressed the priest. "Perhaps you can, brother." Milo twitched his cloak to fully reveal the heavy golden aquila hanging on his chest. "Sister Incartarus here is a novice of the Order of the Bloody Rose." Incartarus cocked her head at the outright lie - her armor didn't even match the color scheme of the Sisters of Battle order - but Trask continued, "I have been showing her around the sector which will become her charge. Helican has been our first tour. We have been to Thracian Primaris of course, then Gudrun, and now here on Talio Secundus." Trask prayed that a simple backwater priest wouldn't be familiar with the livery of the Adepta Sororitas.
His hope seemed to be rewarded. "Welcome, then! A fellow priest of the Temple of the Savior Emperor is always welcome, as is the much rarer occasion of meeting one the Emperor's brides." Milo scowled at the extraordinarily archaic references, but quickly ascribed it to the rather out-of-the-way nature of both the town and the planet.
"You have a beautiful church here," Trask commented cordially. "I've seen many larger towns, hives even, with less well-appointed chapels."
The fat priest burbled, as if paid a personal compliment, "Yes, well, we've seemed to finally come across better times." Trask filed for later reference the dichotomy between that comment and the sorry state of the local area, but allowed the priest to continue, "We have both the full support of the municipal government and the interest of Cardinal Diem. The cardinal has been generous with support of this diocese, as well as interest in maintaining the spiritual health of Sociona." A small frown slowly crawled across the priest's face. "What parish did you say you were from?"
"I didn't," Trask replied. Rolling up his sleeves, he held up his arms to let the priest see his tattoos. "Before my assignment to help indoctrinate young Sisters, I was the priest of a Guard regiment. And it certainly does seem like the good cardinal has been beneficent."
The priest began to babble on, his train of thought now back on track. "Indeed. I can't imagine what sort of reward is returned for his interest in a small parish like this - Cardinal Diem must be motivated by nothing other than his dedication to the Church and his flock."
"The Emperor must truly have his eye upon the cardinal," Trask murmured. "Perhaps I should take the Sister to his see. Thank you for your time."
As the doors closed behind Incartarus and Trask, she turned and said, "What did he mean by 'Emperor's brides?'"
"An ancient term," Trask explained. That's what Vandire called the Daughters of the Emperor when he tricked them into becoming his personal troops during the Age of Apostasy. They finally saw the Emperor's light, and killed Vandire for his heresy. Afterward, they became the Adepta Sororitas. There must be a very odd influence at work to bring that reference into the vernacular. I must check on that, as well as the good cardinal's interest in this place. We'll see what the others are able to find." The two walked down the street as they were talking, and failed to notice the priest standing in the church doorway peering after them.
Pahr bowed his head slightly and said, "Thank you, interrogator. Throne protect you."
"It will. And the Emperor's gaze will be upon you from now until His rebir- er... until the end." Pahr looked at the interrogator's face quizzically for a moment, and Trask hurried to attend some meaningless adjustment of his gear. Galatea emerged from the cellar staircase, and Trask quickly motioned her towards the door.
It was a short walk to the dilapidated chapel that served as the center on the Imperial cult in Sociona. Incartarus made the sign of the aquila as they approached, while Milo just clucked in disapproval at the state of the house of worship. "I don't know if the state of this area is reflected in the condition of this church, or if the state of the church is a cause for the condition of the town," he muttered, half to himself. Galatea turned her eyes toward him, and nodded sagely. Trask laughed hoarsely and said, "I am a simple priest, turned toward another means of serving the Emperor. Not everything I say needs to be treated like a writ from Holy Terra."
"Sorry," the novice said quietly. "I didn't mean to..."
"Nonsense," answered Trask. "But in my apprenticeship to the Inquisition, one thing I'm learning is that there are countless servants of the Imperium who can blindly follow orders - the ones who will make a difference are the ones who can think for themselves... who can consciously apply their skills to their faith, and to their service to the Imperium of Man. Ah, here we are," he finished as they climbed the shallow steps up to the doors of the church. The paint on the doors was fading and peeling, and their hinges made a squeal of age and ill repair as Milo pushed one of the massive doors open. The interior of the church was dim from the haze on the windows and the marked absence of glowglobes. The only light at all came from an array of candleabras, tables full of votive candles, and a line of braziers down each long wall.
As Galatea's eyes (and Trask's one biological eye) adjusted to the dim light, both of them simultaneously caught their breath. The interior of the chapel was as breathtakingly appointed as the outside was decrepit. Well-polished, seemingly-genuine hardwood pews filled the floor of the chapel; an exquisitely gilded statue of the Emperor stood against the back wall, under a golden chandelier. The carpet in the aisle between the pews and on the dais itself was plush and unstained, and the walls were covered by unfaded hangings. The tapestries were exquisite: one depicted the Emperor smiting Horus, while another showed a stylization of the Emperor imprisoning the Dragon of Mars. The arras on the far wall, behind the dais and the statue, was less clear - it seemed to be a picture of a sun disc or some such, with only two uneven rays, but the mottled colors made it difficult to pick out the shapes at all. Trask chalked it up to the fairly common practice of incorporating preexisting local religions into the the implantation of the Imperial Cult.
"What can I help you with, children?" asked a soft-spoken voice. A rotund, balding man in a preist's cassock emerged from rectory and hurried down the aisle toward them. He stopped short as he caught a better view of Incartarus' imposing armor and the wide-barreled meltagun hanging from her shoulder.
"Go with me," Trask muttered under his breath to Galatea, then addressed the priest. "Perhaps you can, brother." Milo twitched his cloak to fully reveal the heavy golden aquila hanging on his chest. "Sister Incartarus here is a novice of the Order of the Bloody Rose." Incartarus cocked her head at the outright lie - her armor didn't even match the color scheme of the Sisters of Battle order - but Trask continued, "I have been showing her around the sector which will become her charge. Helican has been our first tour. We have been to Thracian Primaris of course, then Gudrun, and now here on Talio Secundus." Trask prayed that a simple backwater priest wouldn't be familiar with the livery of the Adepta Sororitas.
His hope seemed to be rewarded. "Welcome, then! A fellow priest of the Temple of the Savior Emperor is always welcome, as is the much rarer occasion of meeting one the Emperor's brides." Milo scowled at the extraordinarily archaic references, but quickly ascribed it to the rather out-of-the-way nature of both the town and the planet.
"You have a beautiful church here," Trask commented cordially. "I've seen many larger towns, hives even, with less well-appointed chapels."
The fat priest burbled, as if paid a personal compliment, "Yes, well, we've seemed to finally come across better times." Trask filed for later reference the dichotomy between that comment and the sorry state of the local area, but allowed the priest to continue, "We have both the full support of the municipal government and the interest of Cardinal Diem. The cardinal has been generous with support of this diocese, as well as interest in maintaining the spiritual health of Sociona." A small frown slowly crawled across the priest's face. "What parish did you say you were from?"
"I didn't," Trask replied. Rolling up his sleeves, he held up his arms to let the priest see his tattoos. "Before my assignment to help indoctrinate young Sisters, I was the priest of a Guard regiment. And it certainly does seem like the good cardinal has been beneficent."
The priest began to babble on, his train of thought now back on track. "Indeed. I can't imagine what sort of reward is returned for his interest in a small parish like this - Cardinal Diem must be motivated by nothing other than his dedication to the Church and his flock."
"The Emperor must truly have his eye upon the cardinal," Trask murmured. "Perhaps I should take the Sister to his see. Thank you for your time."
As the doors closed behind Incartarus and Trask, she turned and said, "What did he mean by 'Emperor's brides?'"
"An ancient term," Trask explained. That's what Vandire called the Daughters of the Emperor when he tricked them into becoming his personal troops during the Age of Apostasy. They finally saw the Emperor's light, and killed Vandire for his heresy. Afterward, they became the Adepta Sororitas. There must be a very odd influence at work to bring that reference into the vernacular. I must check on that, as well as the good cardinal's interest in this place. We'll see what the others are able to find." The two walked down the street as they were talking, and failed to notice the priest standing in the church doorway peering after them.