Jump to content

The Truth Will Out


BlueWaterDragon

Recommended Posts

Calgar himself no less.

 

:P: I must read that! Now WORK! :) WORK! My withdrawal symptoms must be cured with good storylines! ;)

 

I'm looking forward to the trip to Ultramar. Does Indarin still have the shoulderpad?

 

Cambrius

 

PS: What chapter is Indarin from? The Sons of Plunder?

Guest NewPerson

More!!!!More......MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I seriously thought Indarin was a marine of the Sons of Doom, not it's Chapter Master.

 

Work harder, harder, HARDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Where do I fill out the subscription form? :P

I seriously thought Indarin was a marine of the Sons of Doom, not it's Chapter Master.

 

WHAT? Indarin's the chapter master of my chapter? :( I didn't recieve that news, what happened to my precious Cambrius? :devil:

 

Sons of Plunder my friend. ;) I was also confused by who Indarin was, I thought he was a humble sergeant.

 

*Hands subscription form to NewPerson*

 

Cambrius

For those of you wondering what Ibdarin looks like, I found this in the dusty archives a few nights ago:

 

sm.php?bpe=000000&bpj=000000&bp=000000&bpc=000000&hdt=FFFFFF&hdm=FFFFFF&hdl=FFFFFF&ey=FFFFFF&er=FFFFFF&pi=FFFFFF&nk=000000&ch=8A0E0E&eg=EDC309&sk=EDC309&abs=000000&bt=000000&cod=000000&ull=000000&lk=000000&lll=8A0E0E&lft=000000&url=000000&rk=000000&lrl=8A0E0E&rft=000000&slt=EDC309&sli=0759E6&srt=EDC309&sri=000000&ula=000000&lel=000000&lla=000000&lw=EDC309&lh=000000&ura=000000&rel=000000&rla=000000&rw=EDC309&rh=000000&bg=FFFFFF&rb=000000&gr=FFFFFF&grid=TRUE

 

This is Brother Indarin Chapter Master of the Son of Plunder, and Lord of Archon. the reason he has no helmet colour is because he doesn't wear one. He looks a bit like the dude from my Avatar, long pure white hair and olive skin. Okay the fething thing won't show up!

 

Cambrius

  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 months later...

The smooth walls of the polar fortress gleamed in the light reflected from the snow as the shuttle raced down through the clear atmosphere of Macragge.

 

Indarin ran one gloved hand over the Ultramarine's shoulder plate. He was nervous, unaccountably so. The only change he had made, to a tech-priest's absolute dismay, was to deepen the names crudely engraved into the ceramite. Having not been listed on the duty roster he had had plenty of time to himself. It had not taken him long, but the act itself had made his soul ache.

 

When he had finished, Brother-Librarian Isador had handed him a book with a recommendation that he read and absorb it. Indarin had turned it over, reading the title and authors name. The gold was peeling from the carefully engraved letters. The Codex Astartes, Roboute Gulliman. It had turned out to be a tactical treatise that had made him snigger occasionally.

 

When he handed the book back, an off-hand remark elicited an expression from Isador that Indarin would have paid the treasury of Terra to see again.

 

"Thank you Brother, that was entertaining and occasionally accurate." He grinned.

 

The psyker had blinked rapidly, and tried to put his thoughts into words.

 

"Did I just hear you correctly?" he stuck a fingertip into his ear and wiggled it. The light glinted off of the gold accented words as Isador waved the book gently under Indarin's nose. "You found this 'entertaining'? 'Occasionally accurate'?" he looked as though someone had just dropped an armed krak grenade into his lunch.

"You find sacred texts..." he broke off and swallowed. Shaking his head in amazement he continued. "Where do you come from Marine?" he scratched his bald scalp with his free hand.

 

"I can't say." Indarin looked confused for a moment and a brief light burned behind his eyes.

 

As he felt Isador catch the flare of psychic power, it dissipated and Indarin shook his head to clear it.

 

"I'm sorry Brother, you were saying?"

 

The conversation faded back to the roar of re-entry and he yawned reflexively, watching surreptitiously as a rather pale and drawn Telorna copied him. His Lyman's ear had already adjusted, but he liked the feeling. To him she looked very sick and he remembered that she was not used to space travel. She was barely old enough to marry, and he caught himself, dismissing the thought abruptly. What had prompted that? He wondered. I would kill her with a kiss. He could almost hear her scream as the acid burned through her bones, it made his blood run cold and he shuddered involuntarily. He activated his comm, no it was called a vox now wasn't it?

 

"Pilot what is our ground side ETA?" he said, unclipping a small canister from the inside of his belt and shucking off his seat webbing.

 

"Approximately thirty minutes Brother." The voice was calm and Indarin could hear the litanies of the co-pilot in the background.

 

"Thank you, Brother Indarin out."

 

He reached across and plugged the canister into Telorna's air supply. He was careful to only let a fraction of the contents free, a full dose was enough to stun a Space Marine, he had no idea what its effect would be on a normal human, although he suspected it would be lucid and extremely brief. He felt the startled jerk run through her body as the combat drug struck home. Her pallor lessened and she hiccuped and belched as her stomach settled itself out.

 

As he returned to his webbing, he considered the differences between then and now. Captain Angelos had offered him a post in the Blood Ravens in exchange for Indarin allowing his Tech-Marines to merely study his armour. Indarin had refused politely, explaining that he had a mission that he had waited rather a long time to complete. To him there was nothing special about his armour, aside from his previous set having been so badly damaged in battle that he had had it replaced. He been sure on the day he had first donned it that he could still feel the heat of the forge. The round that had destroyed his armour so effectively had come very close to killing him, and it had taken a long time for him to recover his battle confidence. He was sure it was why his Captain had sent him to Terra, rather than anyone more capable. All Indarin knew was that after he came back, he could no longer use hypno-training and he no longer feared anything.

 

As he understood the current state of the Imperium, had the incident happened now, he would be disciplined for allowing such a valuable artefact to be damaged, and commended for his bravery in taking the strike in the first place. As he remembered the faces of his Battle-Brothers a wave of sadness flowed over him. Full access to the Blood Ravens archives had revealed nothing, well not strictly true; it had revealed an alarming absence of information about his legion. He had talked to Isador about it as he fixed a console that a tech-priest had designated as un-salvageable.

 

"I'm very sorry Brother, but a seal is a seal, I can't tell you what I don't know." Isador sat down next to Indarin and continued. "However I can sympathise with you," he paused for a moment and pursed his lips, apparently sizing Indarin up, before he continued. "Given that you have a document sealed by the Emperor himself, I don't think that you would be one to spread rumours. I believe you hold secrets of far greater import than that which I know. With that in mind, you must tell no-one of this conversation.

"Despite a vast amount of careful research I have been unable to uncover the Blood Ravens founding Legion. It is a closed book to me, one of very few. All I ask is that should you discover anything about your own Chapter,"

 

"Pardon me Brother," Indarin interrupted gently. "When my Battle-Brothers and I traversed the stars, we were arrayed in Legions."

 

Isador's eyes widened as he did some quick thinking. "But…but that means you were a Space Marine during the Great Crusade! You and Telorna must both be," he thought for a moment. "Ten thousand years old! You must have witnessed the birth of the Imperium! It explains so much about you." His eyes glittered. "We must talk more, history is fragmented, and you could do much to clear up some arguments."

 

"It doesn't bother me too much, someone once said to me: 'It does not really matter where you came from, just so long as you can see where you are heading. The past can do no more than influence whom you were, only you can change who you will become." Indarin continued to work as he spoke.

 

"Hmm, sounds like true wisdom to me. Who told you that may I ask?"

 

"The same man who gave me those papers." Indarin raised his hazel eyes, expecting to meet Isador's blue ones. All that was before him however, was the bulkhead of the shuttle. He sighed as the sick feeling he had suffered when Captain Angelos had declared that the Blood Ravens were heading to Tartarus returned. Eyeing the canister he accessed the comm again. It transpired that they were on final approach vector and he settled back in his webbing, humming a ditty that was both disrespectful and untrue.

 

"A Wolf is more loyal than any old hound,

The Angels wear dresses when no-one's around.

An Ultramarine's stiff, but you'll find he won't play,

You won't like a Fist in yellow or grey.

 

A Warrior has virtue, that much is true,

But if you ain't in a ditch, he won't notice you…."

Here you go boys!!

 

They walked through the massive complex to a pair of doors flanked by two statues. One of them she recognised as the Emperor, the other was similar to the Primarch on the Spear of Truth. Except this one was not holding his sword, the hilt rested on his hip, tip on the ground and he held in his hands an open book.

 

The doors opened, the slight creaking only audible to a Space Marine or possibly a dog. He grinned as a small disreputable voice piped up, 'the Space Wolves have that covered from all angles.'

 

Beyond the doors the view called forth a memory that was not Indarin's own, a carpet of bluebells in a forest. Eight foot high bluebells covered in an inch or more of ceramite armour, with a side-arm that can punch craters in plascrete.

 

Three full companies of Ultramarines, including the ancillary staff, filled the the cavernous hall. Further down the hall Indarin could see the skull and cog symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus proudly emblazoned across a large banner, and represented across the shoulder plates of the red painted Tech-Marines.

 

Deeper into the shadowed vaults, a tattered Planetary Defence Force banner was proudly furled over it's honour guard and the sixteen companies of human soldiery and the four companies of Ogryn who stood below it.

 

The Imperial Navy had a full honour guard with their standard and the ships standards of the fleet in orbit.

 

Indarin walked a pace behind Telorna, attired in a spare PDF uniform without insignia, as she bore the shoulder plate down the aisle. There was absolute silence as they progressed, and the light glinted from Indarin's beetle black armour, and from the white marble floor pitted with the dents of millennia of kneeling Space Marines. He could tell the Telorna was terrified, not only by her smell but also by the sound of her teeth chattering as she shook violently.

 

They reached the foot of a high dais and halted. Indarin looked up into the cold blue eyes of Marneus Calgar, Chapter-Master of the Ultramarines, and Lord of Ultramar.

 

Beside Lord Calgar, arrayed in tactical dreadnought armour and the robes of his office, stood the Ultramarines Chief Librarian, Brother Tigurius. Indarin switched his eyes to stare at the psyker, almost insolently. In response, Tigurius felt through his uppermost thoughts.

 

Indarin shook his head almost imperceptibly and gently removed Tigurius' psychic hand from his intra-cranial cookie jar.

 

The Librarian cocked his head, instantly interested, and as he moved slightly a light breeze toyed with the hem of his robes.

 

Indarin broke the silence.

 

“My Lord Calgar, forgive this interruption, but my charge and I bring news of import. Many years ago, I made a promise to fifteen of your Battle-Brothers. I will now fulfil that promise,” he took the plate gently from Telorna with a small smile. The steps were wide but worn and Indarin walked up them quickly. Dropping to one knee in front of Marneus Calgar, he held up the plate. Reaching out with one massively gauntleted fist the Marine took the plate from Indarin's hands. He turned it over and read the names out loud.

 

The silence seemed to deepen as the last of the words reverberated around the columns. After a long pause, Calgar stood and spoke.

 

“Every Space Marine that has fallen in His service, is honoured today. I did not know about these fifteen before today, and I thank our Brother for bringing their names to us that they can be recorded in the ledgers of our Chapter. Brother Tigurius, take this,” he said quietly holding the plate out to the Librarian.

 

Tigurius ignored it, he was still staring intently at Indarin and the Marine stared back into his eyes. Tigurius frowned and pushed at Indarin's mind. Indarin allowed him to push, watching Tigurius increase his power, until abruptly someone dropped Indarin's defences and the psyker fell into his mind. Indarin watched helplessly as the part of his memories he had no conscious access to swallowed Tigurius in a blinding flash. The Librarian pitched forward and rolled limply down the steps with a loud clatter, like a stack of plates in a slow slide. Calgar looked at Indarin, who smiled embarrassedly. There was a stunned pause while everyone tried to assimilate the information before them.

Heheh, cranial cookie jar, I like that description BWD. ;) My suspicions are mounting over how old the Sons of Plunder are. Perhaps after their debacle with the UMs Indarin can have a pass by with the Sons of Doom? Cambrius would be very interested in hearing some of Indarin's history. :(

 

Cambrius

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.