Fluff-introduction from my current campaign

[Antarius]

So, my gaming buddies and I are trying to do a campaign this year. The general set up is that there is a super-psyker on the loose in an imperial system that's being overrun by orks, tyranids and dark eldar, all of whom want to get their hands on him, for various reasons. So, fun times all around.

We're each supposed to put up a bit of fluff for our army and I've of course seized on the opportunity to make this mysterious psyker a fallen angel.

 

Without further ado, here is my piece (c&c welcome):

 

 

"These mysterious warp disturbances and anomalies, Interrogator. Do they signify what I believe them to?" The grand master spoke softly, his face partially ovscured by his cowl, but there was no mistaking the edge in his voice nor the glimmer in his eyes. It was a look and tone that bespoke both urgency and a rising anger.

 

"Yes, Lord Azrael, we believe it to be so." Isaiah replied, unconsciously shifting the skull-masked helm under his arm, as he met the grand masters glare. "From the data gleaned by brain-probing the astropaths it would seem that these anomalies correspond exactly to those reported during the last sighting of our former brother, Obadiah Satarius, now known to his heretical compatriots as Iscariot Deathbringer. In fact, our librarians are all but certain that this is the case." Isaiah looked at the silently brooding grand master, then added an afterthought "what are your orders, Lord Azrael?"

 

The supreme grand master of the Dark Angels seemed to stare into the distance for an agonizingly long moment, his hands slowly clenching and unclenching, until he brought his fist down on the armrest of his throne.

"Assemble the grand masters of the 1st, 2nd and 5th companies and order the extraction of our troops. We depart for the Heterus system at once!" He exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, that carried easily and echoed off the walls in the dimly lit, incense-filled chamber.

 

He met the eyes of the Interrogator-Chaplain and held them, as if daring him to gainsay the order. Isaiah remained silent but did not look away.

"You are not troubled by this order, brother Chaplain? You are not worried by the consequences of our withdrawal?"

"No, my lord Azrael." the Chaplain replied after a fraction of a moment "I would not doubt our cause, nor your wisdom!"

The grand master seemed satisfied with his answer, yet his reply was not without bitterness. "And what of our allies in the Imperial Guard? You must know they cannot stand alone against the Necrons. What of the civilians caught up in this madness? Are you not afraid that we damn our souls by leaving them to fend for themselves when we take off on our Hunt?"

 

For a moment there was no answer, as Isaiah lifted both hands to his face. When the reply came it was distorted by the vox-filter in the Chaplain's helmet, his eyelenses glowing like red hell-embers in the semi-darkness as he lifted his head to meet his master's stare.

"The mortals must fare as they will, my lord Azrael. As for our ouls, I would suffer damnation a thousand times, rather than let the fallen remain free to besmirch the honour of the Lion."