Sentoris et al

[Brother-Sergeant Bohemond]

So, this is written as a bit of fluff for the Liber Astartes Campaign we are writing. It is about the governor of Trasyn, the planet we are all interested in. Basically, Chaos has stormed his world and everything has fallen apart for him in his world. CnC welcome, as this is my first time posting any of my work here. I want to convey a sense of a broken man broken by the weight of responsibility and the shame of failure. I hope I have achieved it.

 

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Governor Sentoris walked slowly into his office, head bent and a droop to his once majestic shoulders. ‘How had it all gone wrong?’ he wondered to himself, ‘all I had wanted to do was honour St. Petrok, how did this happen?’ Sentoris approached the window and gazed out over the capital watching the flames blaze all over the city. A tear trickled out of the corner of his left eye as he remembered how it once had looked, a beautiful world dedicated to the memory or Petrok.

 

He remembered back over the last few weeks, the hordes of cultists has just…descended…upon the world in the guise of pilgrims. They had been unable to cope, “no one could cope with this!” he snarled in anger and despair. But that was not how the Imperium would see it. All they would see was failure. His failure. With a half sob he wrenched himself away from the window and slammed himself down heavily into his ornate leather and rare wood chair, from which he had dominated so many men and women over the years. It served as yet another reminder of how far he had fallen.

 

Cradling his head In his hands, Sentoris sat like this for many long minutes. When he finally raised his head the determined look he had been known for had returned to his eyes. He knew his duty and what he had to do, he had failed, there was no longer any hope and he must pay the price. Reaching under the desk he felt the Aquila embossed onto the bottom, he ran his fingers over it until he found what he was looking for. Pressing in the single eye a compartment slid open. Inside lay a wooden casket bound with metal, two clasps holding it shut fast. Flicking it open he gazed down at the last heirloom of his family. The gilded form, honoured scrolls covering it with the names of all who had ever held the position of governor, it all came crashing back to him, the weight of his responsibility. But he never wavered. Raising the bolt pistol he gazed at the picture of the Emperor set upon the wall. “He is always there, watching, watching all of us’ whispered Sentoris “we must all do our duty, but I, I have failed”. His world went dark.

[Lady_Canoness]

Interesting scene. Is it a prologue of sorts?

 

The mighty resorted to suicide pretty quickly though, didn't he? <_<

[Brother-Sergeant Bohemond]

not a prologue, a short snippet showing the sheer failure of everything under the swamp of chaos, he pretty much has no idea what to do, so, BAM, decides to leave the mess for someone else to clean up. Also trying to show the Imperial attitude to failure, ie. not tolerated. Oh, and as for the mess the world is in, context helps, i am sorry. Tasyrn, the world, has a deamon Prince running amok, and he kinda facilitated it in a way...