This is the Liber Astartes, PART II

[Demus Ragnok]

How did I manage to get my post to be such a line skipping disaster?

 

By the way, how'd I do? I don' t write for others to read very often.

[fivepointedstar]

How did I manage to get my post to be such a line skipping disaster?

 

By the way, how'd I do? I don' t write for others to read very often.

I liked it.

I write very similar to you. And It's very difficult ( at least for) me to include others into the story.Yours was very well written. Keep the story coming...

[Aqui]

How did I manage to get my post to be such a line skipping disaster?

By the way, how'd I do? I don' t write for others to read very often.

It has something to do with a toggle on the editor when you type the stuff in. When you next post something, go to the main editor (more reply options) and look where the "B" icon is in the area above the posting box. Above it there will be an icon that looks like a light switch. Click on that once, and it should sort the issue out. You should only have to do it once (as in, you shouldn't have to do it again).

I haven't posted anything new as I'm back at work and I haven't quite worked out where "I" will be in all of this, and how I'd react to what's going on. Once I've worked this out, I'll post something.

Until then, I'll (or we'll, depending on the context ;) ) be :lol:

[Warhorse47]

As Ace clomped down the hall, he began to feel as if he were not completely alone. As he rounded a corner, he slipped into a small grotto in the stone. Drawing his bolt pistol, he waited, straining his ears to catch a tiny whisper of sound from someone following him. He could hear the clicking of claws as something approached, then he heard a tiny whisper. Levelling his bolt pistol, he pointed it right between the eyes of his pursuer, who then ran a giant tongue across his face. "York is sure glad to see you, Ace." laughed Jonas. Supressing a shudder, Ace realized that the Wolves had found him....

[Shinzaren]

This thing is still going!? Wow... That was unexpected :) I'll have to take some time and read everything on here at some point. UNI sort of drug me away from here kicking and screaming. 

[Reyner]

Argh I thought your post was on actual update to the story!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

As far as updates go, we're waiting on Ace... Come on, man!

EDIT: Alternatively, a single squad of Krakenbots could be used to be 'taking the new toy for a spin' deal, while Ace is figuring out a way to mass-produce them in story

[Ace Debonair]

As far as updates go, we're waiting on Ace... Come on, man!

EDIT: Alternatively, a single squad of Krakenbots could be used to be 'taking the new toy for a spin' deal, while Ace is figuring out a way to mass-produce them in story

Wait, what?

I've hogged enough page-time on this topic. I've actually pretty much stopped writing altogether to let everyone else have a go.

I'll throw odd paragraphs in and so forth, but I'm not planning on taking the main writing role again.

Also, welcome back Shin!

You must've lost like a hundred duels to me by forfeit by now.

EDIT:

Fumbled a spelling there. That's rare from me.

[Dosjetka]

Welcome back Shinzaren ^_^

 

And I await an update quite eagerly :tu:

[Shinzaren]

Shinzaren woke with a start, blinking to clear the fog from his brain. What terrible nightmares he had been having; dreams of textbooks, exams, and papers. Thank the Emperor he awoke when he did. Rising from the floor of the Liber where he had been unceremoniously laid out, he shook his head as he tried to remember what happened. The last thing he could recall was doing battle with some Typos. The invasion must have been halted though, since he couldn't hear any reports of fighting on his vox and it looked as though the Liber was entering the rebuilding stage. As he walked the hallowed halls of the Liber once again, he took a moment to check his wargear. His power glaive was still mag locked securely on his back and looked to be in working condition, but the jetpack he had taken on the typo hunt was noticeably missing. His Liber Board of Combative Action Approved Chainaxe was still there though, and was fully functional. Satisfied that most everything was as it should be, Shinz set off to see who else was around. 

 

As he wandered the halls, he noted the many signs of battle through the Liber, from bolter holes to scorch marks from meltas. That meant the Mods had gotten involved, which suggested that the Typo assault was more serious than he had first thought. Still, the place looked altogether intact, so that was good. However, he didn't recognize a lot of the faces he saw, and he scanned the Great Hall for someone he recognized. Turning down one of the side paths, Shinz found himself in a darkened hall, smelling of mold and decay. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked on, not really going anywhere in particular, just walking and thinking. Ahead in the gloom, he saw a cadre of forms huddled around a marine of the Liber. Recognizing the hat as belonging to Ace, Shinz broke into a cheshire grin at the opportunity. Readying his Chainaxe in throwing position, Shinz brought his arms over his head and prepared to loose the giant projectile, catching Ace off guard and avenging the hundreds of defeats he had suffered by forfeiture during his absence. He brought his arms down and released the axe in a smoo-

 

"Shinz! Is that you?" Startled by the voice behind him, Shinz shook as he released, turning quickly to address the new speaker. It was Dark Apostle Thirst, recognizable by the eight-pointed star on his chest and the melta at his hip. As he turned and quickly saluted, Shinz heard a crash, followed by some barking and a lot of curse words. A glance over his shoulder made Shinz realize that his thrown axe had went a little wide and was currently embedded in the power pack of one of the strangers, which he now recognized as Space Wolves. What they were doing in the Liber and why they were talking to Ace were all questions for a different time, as now he was too concerned with the fact that he had just hurled a chainaxe at one of them... He looked at DAT for help, but the moderator's face was only disapproving stone, as DAT shook his head reproachfully. Looking back at the Wolves, he noticed they had finally wrenched the axe free and were all looking at him with decidedly questionable eyes...

 

 

Okay, this is my sad little attempt to reconnect with the Story. I apologize if people are out of place or if I am totally off. I tried to read and get caught up on anything, but I got a little lost. Hopefully this makes sense. Also, hello to the Space Wolves that are reading. You're all new since the last time I read this! :)

[Dosjetka]

Well, technically and IIRC, Ace was wondering along the halls of the Liber alone and my plan was to link up with him because I am currently on my way to repair the damaged plumming :teehee:

 

Ah well, it's a good read nonetheless :tu:

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

You're not supposed to take the main writing role. Your supposed to mass produce the marines in the background, like you suggested, remember? Then the various members start throwing in stories or bits or whatever of their chapters taking part in the Purinator crusade.

EDIT: There...

 

The Chaos leader sighed as the wolves approached. He had had enough of their mangy hides, their constant bickering, endless draughts of ale and for Tzeentch's sake they would not be quiet in his library. After allowing the charade to continue for a moment Thirst snapped his fingers. Instantly a Thousand Son appeared, looking surprised, before he saw the sons of Russ and grinned. The Space Wolves stopped dead in their tracks.

"You did say no fatalities in the Liber, my lord?" the sorcerer asked, somewhat mournfully.

"Yes I did, as much as I regret it." The Dark Apostle replied bemusedly.

"Surely you are willing to make an exception?"

"Unfortunately, no.' The Word Bearer seemed genuinely perturbed at this. 'I merely enforce the will of the Admins, as you enforce mine. Neither of us expect deviance from our followers, am I understood?"

For a moment neither said anything. Shinzaren had begun backing away, and the Wolves were debating amongst themselves. Then the sorcerer shrugged, made a waving motion, and the Wolves disappeared.

"They are no longer in the Liber. May I-"

"No,' Thirst interrupted, 'you may not. Bring them back, now."

Another shrug and wave later, the sons of Russ reappeared, on the floor and groaning. "They won't remember a thing, my lord." With that said, the Thousand Son promptly vanished again.

"Now, where was I...' Thirst looked around for a moment. 'Shinzaren?"

[Aqui]

The headache would not pass.  Indeed, it was headaches.  Aquilanus had returned to his cubicle in the Liber's Heresy department to find that it was surprisingly quiet.  It was after hours there, despite the fact that there was always someone around, and the lights had dimmed to conserve power.  Sitting listlessly on the chair, he hunched awkwardly, rubbing his temples, trying to ease the growing numbness that made his sight blur. 

 

We don't have much of a choice, you know.  It's getting worse.  Even thinking is too much of an effort.

 

I know.  This will not go down very well.  You know most of the others find it difficult to relate to us.

 

It won't get much better if there are seven of us either.

 

They'll get used to it.  Besides, six extra pairs of hands should be welcome.  That previous little episode took it's toll official edict or not.

 

It was far too close for my liking.  If he hadn't done what he did...

 

Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves here.  We need to consult the Moderati.  If anyone is going to be sympathetic to our plight it will be him.

 

Are you sure?  He has an agenda of his own.

 

And we don't?  I still don't like this, but if we don't do something soon, then headaches will be the least of our concerns.

 

Are we absolutely sure about this?  Is the conclusion we came up with really that certain?

 

We could go through the data again, but we would need to use the main cogitator.  That would be noticed.

 

Well, if the others were...distracted for a while then it wouldn't be a concern until we were sure...

 

They had kept their collective eyes on recent events.  It made for interesting viewing.  A few of the other Liberites had plans in motion of their own.  If only they could inveigle their way into them...

 

Perhaps.  All in favour?

 

Aye.

 

Aye.

 

Aye.

 

Aye.

 

Aye.

 

Grahhh!

 

Aye.

 

Grahhh?  Can someone translate?  The voice oozed sarcasm, knowing full well the other's answer.  The bestial voice made the others nervous.  It was unpredictable, violent, even by their standards and they all hated not being able to have control over it for their own purposes.  It was possible to keep secrets from the others.  Early on, they had all vowed upon the worst punishment possible that such inner thoughts be respected.  Surprisingly, the vow was kept.  How much longer remained to be seen...

 

He means yes.  Stop ribbing him.  Last thing we need is for him to punch us in the face again.  Hurt like holy Feth last time!

 

The first voice, oldest and the least patient cleared their throat.

 

Well, that's decided then.  We proceed as planned.

 

I still don't like this.  Why can't we just ask to use it?

 

The fourth voice chuckled derisively.

 

That would be too easy.  And as you know full well, never take the path paved with good intentions.  It's usually closed for repairs...

 

Standing, Aquilanus strode to the doorway, knowing full well that they had to act quickly, whilst everyone's attention was focused elsewhere.

[Forté]

Forte finally awoke rubbing his head to try and ease the dull ache from last nights victory revelry. Unsure if it was the result of a few to many punches from fellow Wolves or Brother Horst's triple distilled special batch of Wolfwizz, he took a moment to just sit still and mull it over. Not the easiest thing to do when the cook was still busy beating one of the many new recruits who complained his elk was underdone.

 

Flicking on his pic viewer he was greeting by the sight of a passed out Aquilianus, strapped to the back of one of the cooks squigs as it bounced around the drinking hall. Must have been a good night for sure. And it wasn't the only image either. Grinning from ear to ear at the things him and his pack mates managed to do with the Librarians inebriated frame. It all helped the dull pain ease. Although there was one which made Forte wince at the sight of it.

 

Better keep these hidden for now. He thought to himself.

 

Spotting the still snoring heap that was Arez, in his bed made from the last bench he was slammed through, a though sprung into his mind.

 

I'm owed a quart...better go claim it.

[Nomus Sardauk]

Picking himself up off the floor Ace casually dusted off his hat, watching with amusement as the befuddled pack of Space Wolves attempted to discern what in the Allfather's name had just happened before he turned his gaze over to Shinzaren and Thirst who were talking further down the hallway. Although secretly overjoyed to see his old partner in crime again Ace's attention was drawn by the fact that Shinz's chainaxe was lying on the ground just next him. Sensing a chance for mischief and wanting to welcome Shinz back in a his own special way Ace quietly grabbed the weapon and brought his weapon arm back, ready to throw. With one precise movement he launched the chainaxe down the corridor at breakneck speeds, only for a doorway to open between the flying weapon and it's target as a certain Librarian Ace recognised unwittingly stepped straight into the line of fire.

 

*CLANG*

 

Ace grimaced as the axe collided with SanguiniusReborn's helmet, smashing the Blood Angel to the floor with a crash and drawing the attention of several nearby Liberites including Thirst and Shinzaren. Cursing under his breath at the Librarian's miserable timing and the wasted opportunity Ace quickly hobbled over to the prone marine as he weakly tried to rise, mumbling something about a numberplate and a Land Speeder. Removing SR's helmet as he helped him up Ace cautiously snapped his fingers, catching the dazed marine's attention.

 

"Hey, hey, are you alright?"

SR gave him a confused look, glancing about in a quizzical manner before replying.

"Urmm, pardon me brother but, where are we?"

Now it was Ace's turn to look confused.

"How hard did that Chainaxe hit you...?"

 

"Chainaxe? What Chainaxe?"

 

"Ermm, nevermind, are you injured?"

 

SR took a moment to look himself over, even going so far as to count his limbs before answering Ace with a friendly grin.

 

"Nope, looks like I've still got all my Emperor-given assets."

Ace facepalmed, why did he always seem to attract the lunatics in the Liber?

"So you don't know where we are?"

"No, that's why I asked."

"Do you even remember the conversation we had earlier?"

"A conversation...?"

"Yes! You said you'd just gotten back from off-world and-"

"I remember arriving back at the Legio, Messor and Olisredan filled us in on the attack and then... I find myself here."

Ace stared at the strange Librarian in disbelief, was he serious?

"Wait, was I talking strangely? Maybe acting a little nonsensical?"

Like now? Ace thought to himself quietly before speaking.

"Err, yeah... You seemed to be having an entirely different conversation in your head."

"Oh damn, I didn't do anything stupid again did I?! Emperor's mercy, please say I didn't plant vid-recorders in the Sororitas showers again!"

"No no no, you looked to have come straight from the landin-Wait, what do you mean again?"

"Oh thank the Primarch, that's a relief... Well, sorry for being so strange before, I have something of a split-personality."

Ace stood there in silence, feeling something important break in his head. A Librarian with a split personality? How in the Emperor's name (not to mention common sense) was that possible, let alone permitted?! Perhaps sensing Ace's... Disbelief, SR explained.

 

"Yeah it's a long story. Short version; snide comment about compensation followed by the business end of a certain Frater's skull flail and the resulting three weeks in the Apothecarion due to mild brain damage."

 

Ace rubbed his forehead wearily, this day just kept getting better.

[Ace Debonair]

You're not supposed to take the main writing role. Your supposed to mass produce the marines in the background, like you suggested, remember? Then the various members start throwing in stories or bits or whatever of their chapters taking part in the Purinator crusade.

Ah, but you're confusing my character's role with my own.

My character's doing all that, sure, but I'm not going to be writing about it.

That said, I'm not heartless, so I'll help get the story back on the road.

Otherwise you'll get BIG gaps like this in between bits of story.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ace rubbed a hand down his forehead, the act of a man trying to work out what exactly was going on.

Leaving SanguiniusReborn to recite mysterious details of long-past shenanigans and the assorted Wolves, moderati, Chaos worshippers and other passers-by bickering and debating, Ace stumped his way along the dimly-lit corridor, pushing open a door at the far end of it.

Ace wasn't really in the mood for figuring out why everyone had suddenly converged on him like a flock of vultures diving on a fresh corpse. Instead, the thought occupying his mind in no small way was the fact he'd only had Apothecarion meals for the last month. Astartes had both the biological capacity and the relentless training to find sustenance in even the most forbidding of landscapes, but even a space marine would struggle to get anything other than a cardboard-esque taste from the Apothecarion's rations. Popular rumour had it they'd been baked before the birth of the Primarchs, and they certainly tasted like ten thousand years of culinary art had bypassed them.

Hopefully there was a storeroom or something with provisions, actual edible provisions here.

Ace looked around the room. It was devoid of anythnig edible, but a huge, forbidding hulk of machinery sat in front of him. It was a strange construction, consisting in the main of two large cylinders either side of a large, ungainly mess of cogs, gears, dials, strange meters that measured mysterious variables, and chains.

There was a note pinned to one of the cylinders.

"Note: See if Ace can make this work

Promise new bike if required

DAT"

Ace stared at the note for a moment, then looked thoughtfully at the machine. He had no idea what it was, but moderati, even ones working for the heresy dept, were unlikely to bring something dangerous into the Liber...

[Forté]

I miss my fix :cry:

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

DAT sighed as Angelos handed him the latest report. "I uploaded the information. It... It's not pretty. The latest flaw is extremism from the Sergeant. Instead of simply accepting death, as a natural White Hand would do, it's actively seeking it and doesn't understand why Aquilanus had to restrain it after dismembering it four times. It's calling to me over the comm now, asking me to free it so I can give it oblivion. I'm tempted to, because if the many-man hadn't been there it would have torn through the Liber trying to die."

 

It had been three months since the idea of a legion of automatons had formed into a plan. There were squads that acted perfectly fine and were content with their lot as elite cannon fodder. Most of these had come from the chapters more accepting of death, and so it had led to this experiment, which mirrored so many others as failures.

 

Cradling his head in his palms, Thirst kneaded his mane of black hair. "You said that the limbs were taken off four times. What happened with that?"

 

"Apparently they can reconstitute themselves. I'm not sure if this is pure willpower or what, and I'm not up for experimentation.' Angelos looked around to see if anyone else was nearby. 'I hate to admit this, but... aside from constantly having these things under guard, there isn't much solution but to scrap the project and give the leftovers to the Marines Malevolent, excepting myself, of course."

 

The Dark Apostle leaned back in his chair, a tired look on his face. His manservant merely shrugged and spoke again. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. These are my people too, but if they're flawed..."

 

"Go back to the under guard idea. Surely we can make this work... I haven't given up yet. The Moderator pondered for a moment. "Aquilanus handled himself well enough."

 

"Yes, but the many-man is insane and that somehow gives him strength.' Again the Angel scanned the Sanctum. 'Most Liberites couldn't handle one of these things if they can put themselves back together."

 

"What about putting them with notables and the Space Wolves?"

 

"What about it? It would deplete our manpower, master, and we can hardly afford that right now."

 

Thirst shook his head. "That's exactly why we need this to work. Contact the best of the Liber and get them to escort the test suits into battle. Worst comes to worst, they'll carve through our enemies as well."

 

Angelos lowered his head. "I'm trying my best for you and the Liber, and this isn't the wisest decision."

 

The Dark Apostle smiled at his creation. "Have a little faith. I'll make things work."

 

"Yeah, but not before people die. Fine. I'll carry out your message.' His jump pack roared to life. 'Beware the shadows. Our Night Lord escaped an hour ago."

 

With that, he was gone.

[Aqui]

The many man love it

[Reyner]

Nice story DAT, finally we are seeing the automatons!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Glad to please, Aquila :D

[Aqui]

The headaches were like nothing he'd ever known. And he'd had his fair share. Feeling like someone had placed a supernova in his skull, Aquilanus paused in one of the countless corridors within the Liber. It was a new one, the constant changes within the department requiring flexibility and today was no different. He was drawn here, despite the fact the corridor was less than a few hours old.

I don't know about you guys, but the answer is here. I know it.

*ahem*

And gal. The first voice backtracked quickly. It wouldn't do to antagonise any of the others now.

The second voice tutted, but was quiet.

Anyone know why this corridor has manifested?

I'm not sure, but as I said - the answer is here. Does anyone feel the headaches as much?

The others all said no, well, one snarled, but the meaning was the same.

I wonder...

What?

Whilst the intensity isn't as bad as last time, the area of our brain that was affected, is the same as this time.

The last time?

You wouldn't remember it.

Why not?

I think I know what he's referring too. I have a really bad feeling about this...

So do I.

The corridor terminated with a singular door. It was new, unmarked, and featureless save for a brass plate. Peering at it, they all noticed that it was blank, well, something was forming upon its surface, but it was illegible.

I'm all for an adventure, but this sucks more than a Hormagaunts' tentacle.

Do they have tentacles?

Sighing, the voice continued. My point is, we are here and nothing is happening. The headaches are...lessening, but I've got a horrible feeling that that's the calm before the storm.

How do you know?

Because the last time we had a headache this bad, well...I can't bring myself to say it...

Less of that. We don't know that's what is going to happen.

What theory do you have then?

Graaah!

What does that mindless feth want?

He can hear you, you know.

And you know he always seems to be able to better control of our arms. I'd rather not have to reset our nose again.

What do you see, Brother?

Hmmph!

They all clamoured for the use of their collective eyes.

Well observed, Brother!

Grahh!

Oh, Feth.

What? What do you mean?

Look. The legend on the plate.

"Your Emperor needs you - Twenty-seventy Founding Project."

Twenty-seventh...! What insanity is this?!

Oh, here we go again.

I still don't understand.

Open the door, Brother and you soon will.

We were drawn here to witness the...birth of another.

Another?

For the love of Him of Earth! Just open the door!

They put their hand out to push the door, but it was already opening. The light beyond was blinding, even for the Son of Pochutec.

Oh...

Yeah, now you know how we felt...

 

Inside were plinths each having a alabaster rendition of Chapter Heraldry.  There were quite a few, but nearer the back, there was one that drew them to it.  It was a dull red and black, the symbol itself was similar to a much, much older Chapter.  A saw, and a blood drop.

 

Fethin' hell!  Bad enough having the skirt wearer and the fleabag in here, but to have one of their ilk as well.  This...this is just too much!

 

Stop complaining.  We have to find the Moderatii.  Like it or not we need his help, now more than ever before.

 

 

Turning, they saw the door close, the light burning into their retinas.  From the other side, the corridor went dark as the door closed, its very existence vanishing as it did so.

[Ace Debonair]

Ace paused for a moment and took a step back.

The machine he was working on was humming contentedly, with whole rows of dials and switches lit up on the curiously oblong control panel around the side.

Ace strolled around the device, looking at it with interest. Behind him, the door opened, and Shinzaren darted in, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a crash, as of many Space Wolves rushing into the door, and a good deal of cursing in Fenrisian.

"What in the name of Holy Terra is that?" Shinzaren said, looking with trepidation at the peculiar, arcane construction before him.

"I dunno." Ace shrugged. "DAT brought it in, and I' m pretty sure it's some kind of archaeotech device."

"What does it do?" Shinzaren looked at the astartes-sized cylinders either side of the machine warily.

"I think it's a sort of oven, for the Culinarium." Ace said, warily. "I suppose it's got to be better than the clapped out old stoves down there."

Shinzaren hastily dragged what looked like the ruins of a land-raider engine in front of the door. There was another thump and a volley of intense Fenrisian cursing, and Shinzaren dragged a heavy-looking marble effigy of a dragon with a broken wing up next to the ruined engine.

"Got any food we can try in it?" Shinzaren suggested. Ace bit his lip.

"Nope. I'm not much of a cook anyway. The big problem is, I'm still using crutches to get about, so I can't haul this down to the Culinarium."

Another door, a vast construction in bronze and steel (and one that Ace could have sworn blindly wasn't there when he first arrived), opened, and Aquilanus stepped out. He looked every bit as perplexed as Ace felt.

"What in the myriad worlds of the Imperium is that meant to be?" Said Aquilanus, bemusedly.

"An oven, I think." Ace shrugged. "I think I've got it working again, and DAT promised me a new bike if I fixed it. We need to get it to the Culinarium, though."

Aquilanus frowned for a moment, as various voices protested in the privacy of his head that they didn't have time for this. Curiosity, however, overcame even his multi-faceted inner monologue, and he nodded, turning back to the large door.

"I've got the keys to a rhino. Give me a minute and let's see if we can't find a route to the Culinarium, shall we?"

"A rhino? Now we're cooking with... whatever this cooks with." Ace chuckled.

EDIT:

This story assumes that any automatons DAT previously made were with the machine in a still-faulty state and he didn't expect them to be perfect.

Also, I figure we're best off if the Wolves don't find out about the cloning machine until WAY too late, 'cause they'd probably go all WOLF SMASH on it and I only just finished fixing it.

Also also, I really hope other people keep posting stories, because I can't really come up with a whole story arc for this one.

[Nomus Sardauk]

Turning around SanguiniusReborn noticed Ace had disappeared, scratching his chin he pondered what to do with himself now. Remembering he had planned to visit the memorial plaque at Reyner's Wall he set off down towards the infamous barricade, he had to see what had happened in that place, see the aftermath of that terrible battle for himself. Upon his arrival he found he was not the only one who thought so, hundreds of marines of the Legio, brother-in-arms from hundreds of different chapters were gathered at the Wall, all paying their respects in some manner or another.

 

In one spot a pack of various Space Wolves offered up one last solemn toast to their fallen comrades as the Wolf Priest leading them commended their souls to the Allfather. Elsewhere a hooded Dark Angel lit a candle for the slain as a Salamander next to him laid down a dagger made from a great drake's fang. A Techmarine of the Iron Hands, most of his face an emotionless mask of steel, drew an ornate bolt pistol and placed it before the plaque as a battle-brother of the Rainbow Warriors beside him removed an ornate golden circlet from his head, placing the bejeweled headpiece next to the bolt pistol. More and more Astartes came, each leaving a gift in tribute to the lost, even without his psyker's senses SR could feel the oppressive shroud of emotions that blanketed the area, some were angry at themselves for not having been here to help, some felt guilty for surviving when their brothers had not, other were still shocked that such a cataclysm had occured in the first place.

 

Joining the throng of Astartes SR slowly made his way to the front, finally coming to the great obsidian plaque that now decorated the scarred face of Reyner's Wall and he was staggered at the number of names that lined the memorial's black surface. So many of the names were familiar to him and each one brought with it a face from his memory, countless battle-brothers that had served the Legio with distinction, now gone forever. Unbuckling a small chalice from his belt he knelt before the plaque, placing the chalice before removing his right gauntlet and drawing his combat knife. Holding his bare hand over the vessel he slowly ran the blade across his palm, it's keen edge cutting into his exposed flesh and letting loose the hot vitae within, which he let fall into the chalice until his Larramen cells sealed the wound whilst he opened his mouth to speak.

 

"My fallen brothers, noble warriors, honoured friends... Please, accept this humble offering. As you bled for all the Legio, I bleed now for you, and by my blood I swear to honour your sacrifice. Ave Imperator."

 

Rising to his feet once more, SanguiniusReborn made the sign of the Aquila and then quietly walked away.

[Dosjetka]

Unblocking the Liber pipes had taken him several hours and had frustrated him greatly. Sewage-covered armour was certainly not the most presentable attire he had and it stank as much as those Wolf cubs that were all over the Liber, creating mischief and disorder wherever they went. Picking up his now-flithy tools, he walked back the way he had come and turned on his vox receiver. After listening to the constant talking, urgent cries and weird growls on the vox-net, he felt even more confused than before. He heard something about many-men (whatever the feth that meant) and some mention of a new oven for the Culinarium. He thought it strange that someone would have a new oven for his kitchen because he was certain he had told no one about the vomit-sealed one down below.

 

Strange. And I still can't figure out what the feth is going on.

 

He tried turning off the vox receiver on his helmet, but the machine spirit of his helmet was still unappeased after the sewage incident and so refused to comply. Sighing loudly, Ludovic stopped to remove his helmet and clipped it to his belt. Picking up his pace again, he went to look for Ace to discuss various matters with him, notably the new oven and his fething helmet.