battle captain corpus Posted February 25, 2016 Share Posted February 25, 2016 I am weary of my many lives. Do not mistake this for entropy or a keening for lost zeal. Do not be lulled into the trap of my strength waning. The near infinite depths of my drive, my ambition, my self for a better term are still a deep a well as others of my kind. My kind. A race, no a species beyond the crippled and lame ape ancestors who inherited a galaxy by mere birthright and adoption. Like bastard children clutching feverishly at a fathers hand me down sword. My kind. There are none like us left to be created. It is a truth many of us find hard to grasp, especially the capering fools who splice, glue and gut the genes of our betters to simply encase flesh and muscle witin a mockery of my...our...plate. A means to an end I would guess. Numeracy. The weight of wars to be measured and balanced with the sacrifice being thinned blood lines. My kind. 96 centuries. 96. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/319697-my-kind/ Share on other sites More sharing options...
battle captain corpus Posted February 28, 2016 Author Share Posted February 28, 2016 Banlod. Banlod?..... Banlod?!.... Mine summons is not given lightly man-mortal. Answer mine request! Banlod! BANLOD?! ...... Banlod..... Banlod...... Mine need to spirit-dine is nigh. Banlod..... Take mine to war..... Hunger.....tears....Sweetest succulent tremors of fear.... Banlod let mine spirit-dine once more. A banquet, a high tea of mortis to glut and sate and masticate upon? Banlod.... son of a cracked legion, the Ragged King, man-mortal who commandeth Shardcarver....listen to thine partner? "Faxius. Quiet child of the fate twister. You shout my name as if it yours to use freely to summon me to battle?! SILENCE!" Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/319697-my-kind/#findComment-4321126 Share on other sites More sharing options...
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