Mirr'or- A Window of Infinite Knowledge

[Sigismund229]

 

 

Hectarion vanishes (presumed dead) during the mysterious Nomad Incursion (maybe we can tie that to an earlier Tyrannid appearance?)

Plan is for the Nomads to hit from the north so it would be odd for them to be 'nids. They're going to be a seperate species unless the majority want them to be an early 'nid incursion

I was thinking more a species driven ahead rather than a precursor

We can figure them out more when we get there but I wouldn't be opposed to that

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Ok, so that just leaves Azus

[Chief Captain Redd]

I think it was Koschei that kills Daer'dd, although it's K'awil that actually duels Daer'dd for the most part, it's simply when Koschei actually arrives that things swing in the traitors' favour, ultimately ending with K'awil being crippled by Daer'dd and Daer'dd being slain in turn by Koschei.

 

Can anybody confirm this? Or did I dream it? :shrug:

Yeah, that's pretty much 100%. Though I do realize that I need to write something where Daer'dd's feral/protective/Hulk/rage comes front and center outside of this.

[Nomus Sardauk]

 

I think it was Koschei that kills Daer'dd, although it's K'awil that actually duels Daer'dd for the most part, it's simply when Koschei actually arrives that things swing in the traitors' favour, ultimately ending with K'awil being crippled by Daer'dd and Daer'dd being slain in turn by Koschei.

 

Can anybody confirm this? Or did I dream it? :shrug:

Yeah, that's pretty much 100%. Though I do realize that I need to write something where Daer'dd's feral/protective/Hulk/rage comes front and center outside of this.

I have a few ideas:

 

1. Maybe the Grave Stalkers are blatantly stealing/destroying the gene-seed from fallen Bears, literally trying to murder their gene-line?

2. Perhaps during their duel, to try and throw Daer'dd off/mock him for his protective nature, K'awil literally orders his men over the vox to slaughter every last mortal crewmember they can find, men, women and children, to make the Dragon shake with the force of their futile screams for mercy. 3. K'awil could straight up torture one of Daer'dd's favoured sons/mortals right in front of him, like this Iron Bear/crewmen intervenes to try and help his father/lord and K'awil punishes him for it, badly.

4. When K'awil arrives to duel Daer'dd, he does so with a large sack stained crimson with blood in his hand, he throws it to Daer'dd and mockingly hisses something like "I believe these are yours, brother." as Daer'dd sees the bag is filled to the brim with gene-seed, each one torn from the still-warm breast of one of his sons. Cue DAER'DD SMASH.

 

I must say, writing all this out I'm getting a really strong The Dark Knight/The Dark Knight Rises vibe from this duel, with Daer'dd playing the Batman role and K'awil being a mix of the Joker and Bane with the whole "your punishment must be more severe" villainous monologue thing I'm imagining him doing to taunt and enrage Daer'dd.

Edited January 27, 2017 by SanguiniusReborn

[Chief Captain Redd]

I really like the way you think Sanguinius. Gives me a few ideas to chew on, much like Daer'dd does to K'awil's face ;)

 

The other thing that I think needs to be strengthened is the hurt from the betrayal of Koschei as he was found by Daer'dd and the Emperor and they were close. It's the reason Icarion sends Koschei to test him.

[Kelborn]

Yeah, sounds good, Sangi. :)

 

Regarding Mirr'or, how would you describe a cult of him if there was one?

More of a scheming or heralding one?

[MikhalLeNoir]

Grey bureacrats who yearn for facts. And facts alone

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Yeah, sounds good, Sangi. http://image.bolterandchainsword.com//public/style_emoticons/default/smile.png

 

Regarding Mirr'or, how would you describe a cult of him if there was one?

More of a scheming or heralding one?

 

Mirr'or knowledge would drive most people mad, so a cult to him would probably be full of crazy people trying to tell others what they know but not being able to because their minds would have been broken. Those that were able to maintain their sanity would probably use the knowledge granted to them towards their own ends.

That being said, I don't think their would be a cult to him because Mirr'or has been imprisoned and cut off from the warp for a very long time.

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Icarion stood motionless with Thunderchild, a masterfully crafted spear gifted to him by his father; held in a relaxed grip, the weapon perfectly balanced in his hands. He focused his mind, heightening every one of his already superhuman senses. He could hear the constant thrum of the ships powerful engines and the whisper of the ventilation as it circulated the ship's constantly recycled air supply. He could feel the subtle tug of friction between the skin of his hands and the woven leather of the handle of the spear. Through the fabric of his split-toed socks he felt the course material of the floor mats of his private dojo aboard the ship that shared the namesake of his weapon. Barely perceivable was the sterile stink of the air, masked as it was by the sweet aroma wafting from the incense sticks that burned slowly in the corner; and the sharp smell of the unguents he'd used to clean Thunderchild earlier.

 

 His eyes snapped open a millisecond before four shadowy specters appeared, conjured by Icarion to serve as training partners. Imbued with a measure of his skill and foresight and a limited sentience, they were more than suitable to serve as at least a minor challenge for him and though a manifestation of his own making, were more than capable of causing him lethal harm as they attacked him in unison. The blue, pleated cloth of his hakama flowed with his body as he moved smoothly from one kata of the ancient Madrigalian art of Soijuttsu to another, seemingly dancing around the attacks of the specters as he used his powers to divine their movements before they made them. And just as his gift allowed him to foresee the attacks of his opponents before they happened, so too did it allow him to see their ends mere moments before the blade of his spear bit into their flesh, splitting it like gossamer cloth; as one by one the specters fell around Icarion, who had returned to his original position before the last of them hit the floor and they all vanished in a puff of blueish smoke, leaving no trace of their ever have existing on the floor. He took a breath; the exercise had lasted only fifteen seconds.

 

 He returned Thuderchild to its' ornate stand along the dojo's back wall and hung his white kendogi, a Madrigalian styled dragon embroidered on the back; on a hook on the wall before walking over to an alcove to his right where a basin of cool water waited. he opened his storm grey nagajuban so as not to get the soft fabric of the under-kimono wet and splashed water on his face, stopping momentarily as he heard the door slide open; before finishing and re-securing the front of his garment, smoothing out an errant wrinkle before emerging to greet his equerry, Raiden Athrewes.

Edited February 21, 2017 by TheBlindPrimarch

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Unlike his Primarch, Raiden wore his armor, his weapon in its sheath, secured to his belt. Icarion smiled reassuringly as his oldest friend bowed, the now near constant look of concern he'd worn since shortly after they had received the cryptic message from Alexos still plainly visible on his face. The revelation that some unknown force had and was preventing him from divining the reason for his Brother's summons had caused an unexpected amount of turmoil and concern from within the leadership of his Legion, though none were more verbal in their worries then Raiden. Not one of them had ever considered this interference possible, not at least without the use of a Pariah, which would have been an impossible presence to hide within a Legion of psykers; least of all Icarion himself. However, while he had accepted the curious, if not somewhat annoying situation; wither he liked it or not, it had forced him to consider just how much his Legion, and he himself; relied on his gifts for guidance.

 

"We've arrived." Icarion declared as he grasped his friend's shoulders in greeting, almost immediately regretting his choice of words.

 

"You've foreseen it?" Raiden asked, his face lighting up with hope. "Has your ability to divine our course returned?"

 

Icarion almost flinched as he watched the hope fade from his friend's face, to be replaced by the pensive scowl once again; as he shook his head no ever so slightly.

 

"No," he sighed. "Forgive my poor choice of words my friend, but I'm afraid it has not." He smiled ruefully as he began to walk towards the door. "I heard the warning indicators that we were coming out of the Warp from here in the Dojo."

 

"Then you've still no idea as to why Lord Tavier would have requested your presence?" Raiden asked as they walked into Icarion's quarters, the large room immaculate and sparsely decorated with some furniture suitable for a Primarch's use and a few of his personal effects placed around the room for aesthetics. Icarion stepped behind a screen in the corner and disrobed as a couple of Legion serfs prepared his armor and stood by to assist him in putting it on.

 

"None at all. Only that he said he'd found something of considerable importance that he felt I should see." Seeing the frown returning to Raiden's face he continued quickly. "Believe me my friend, I have tried to look ahead, but there is nothing. There are no strands of destiny here with which for me to follow to the answers we seek." His Equerry's frown of concern only deepened even more upon hearing his Primarch's explanation, however after a moment he simply shrugged.

 

"Hopefully your Brother will be able to shed some light on the matter." He sighed as Icarion emerged from behind the screen; the serfs work complete; now completely adorned in his masterfully crafted suit of artificer armor. "To confirm your earlier statement, yes, we have arrived at the coordinates your Brother supplied in his message." Raiden stopped as he began to examine the skull of a strange Xenos displayed on the wall of the Primarch's stateroom.

 

"And?" Icarion asked patiently after a minute. Raiden looked up suddenly, a sheepish grin on his face. He bowed in apology.

 

"Forgive me, I'm so used to your foresight I assumed you didn't need me to give you the rest of the information."

 

"There is nothing to forgive my friend," Icarion chuckled quietly as he moved to stand by Raiden. "Please, continue."

 

"We've come out of the Warp over a lifeless, white rock of a planet," Raiden began. "There is a thin atmosphere of breathable air but other than that, nothing."

 

"Any sign of my Brother?"

 

"The Tira-to hailed us shortly after we came out of the Warp. They're in low orbit over the planet's northern pole. The ship's captain reported that Lord Tavier had already departed and is waiting for you planet-side. He provided us with your Brother's coordinates."

 

"Very well," Icarion clasped his friend's shoulder once again. "I believe it is time we found some answers."

[TheBlindPrimarch]

ok, so forgive me for this but that all is the first part, so here it is combined, like it should be.

 

 

 

~*~

 

Icarion stood motionless with Thunderchild, a masterfully crafted spear gifted to him by his father; held in a relaxed grip, the weapon perfectly balanced in his hands. He focused his mind, heightening every one of his already superhuman senses. He could hear the constant thrum of the ships powerful engines and the whisper of the ventilation as it circulated the ship's constantly recycled air supply. He could feel the subtle tug of friction between the skin of his hands and the woven leather of the handle of the spear. Through the fabric of his split-toed socks he felt the course material of the floor mats of his private dojo aboard the ship that shared the namesake of his weapon. Barely perceivable was the sterile stink of the air, masked as it was by the sweet aroma wafting from the incense sticks that burned slowly in the corner; and the sharp smell of the unguents he'd used to clean Thunderchild earlier.

 

 His eyes snapped open a millisecond before four shadowy specters appeared, conjured by Icarion to serve as training partners. Imbued with a measure of his skill and foresight and a limited sentience, they were more than suitable to serve as at least a minor challenge for him and though a manifestation of his own making, were more than capable of causing him lethal harm as they attacked him in unison. The blue, pleated cloth of his hakama flowed with his body as he moved smoothly from one kata of the ancient Madrigalian art of Soijuttsu to another, seemingly dancing around the attacks of the specters as he used his powers to divine their movements before they made them. And just as his gift allowed him to foresee the attacks of his opponents before they happened, so too did it allow him to see their ends mere moments before the blade of his spear bit into their flesh, splitting it like gossamer cloth; as one by one the specters fell around Icarion, who had returned to his original position before the last of them hit the floor and they all vanished in a puff of blueish smoke, leaving no trace of their ever have existing on the floor. He took a breath; the exercise had lasted only fifteen seconds.

 

 He returned Thuderchild to its' ornate stand along the dojo's back wall and hung his white kendogi, a Madrigalian styled dragon embroidered on the back; on a hook on the wall before walking over to an alcove to his right where a basin of cool water waited. he opened his storm grey nagajuban so as not to get the soft fabric of the under-kimono wet and splashed water on his face, stopping momentarily as he heard the door slide open; before finishing and re-securing the front of his garment, smoothing out an errant wrinkle before emerging to greet his equerry, Raiden Athrewes.

 

Unlike his Primarch, Raiden wore his armor, his weapon in its sheath, secured to his belt. Icarion smiled reassuringly as his oldest friend bowed, the now near constant look of concern he'd worn since shortly after they had received the cryptic message from Alexos still plainly visible on his face. The revelation that some unknown force had and was preventing him from divining the reason for his Brother's summons had caused an unexpected amount of turmoil and concern from within the leadership of his Legion, though none were more verbal in their worries then Raiden. Not one of them had ever considered this interference possible, not at least without the use of a Pariah, which would have been an impossible presence to hide within a Legion of psykers; least of all Icarion himself. However, while he had accepted the curious, if not somewhat annoying situation; wither he liked it or not, it had forced him to consider just how much his Legion, and he himself; relied on his gifts for guidance.

 

"We've arrived." Icarion declared as he grasped his friend's shoulders in greeting, almost immediately regretting his choice of words.

 

"You've foreseen it?" Raiden asked, his face lighting up with hope. "Has your ability to divine our course returned?"

 

Icarion almost flinched as he watched the hope fade from his friend's face, to be replaced by the pensive scowl once again; as he shook his head no ever so slightly.

 

"No," he sighed. "Forgive my poor choice of words my friend, but I'm afraid it has not." He smiled ruefully as he began to walk towards the door. "I heard the warning indicators that we were coming out of the Warp from here in the Dojo."

 

"Then you've still no idea as to why Lord Tavier would have requested your presence?" Raiden asked as they walked into Icarion's quarters, the large room immaculate and sparsely decorated with some furniture suitable for a Primarch's use and a few of his personal effects placed around the room for aesthetics. Icarion stepped behind a screen in the corner and disrobed as a couple of Legion serfs prepared his armor and stood by to assist him in putting it on.

 

"None at all. Only that he said he'd found something of considerable importance that he felt I should see." Seeing the frown returning to Raiden's face he continued quickly. "Believe me my friend, I have tried to look ahead, but there is nothing. There are no strands of destiny here with which for me to follow to the answers we seek." His Equerry's frown of concern only deepened even more upon hearing his Primarch's explanation, however after a moment he simply shrugged.

 

"Hopefully your Brother will be able to shed some light on the matter." He sighed as Icarion emerged from behind the screen; the serfs work complete; now completely adorned in his masterfully crafted suit of artificer armor. "To confirm your earlier statement, yes, we have arrived at the coordinates your Brother supplied in his message." Raiden stopped as he began to examine the skull of a strange Xenos displayed on the wall of the Primarch's stateroom.

 

"And?" Icarion asked patiently after a minute. Raiden looked up suddenly, a sheepish grin on his face. He bowed in apology.

 

"Forgive me, I'm so used to your foresight I assumed you didn't need me to give you the rest of the information."

 

"There is nothing to forgive my friend," Icarion chuckled quietly as he moved to stand by Raiden. "Please, continue."

 

"We've come out of the Warp over a lifeless, white rock of a planet," Raiden began. "There is a thin atmosphere of breathable air but other than that, nothing."

 

"Any sign of my Brother?"

 

"The Tira-to hailed us shortly after we came out of the Warp. They're in low orbit over the planet's northern pole. The ship's captain reported that Lord Tavier had already departed and is waiting for you planet-side. He provided us with your Brother's coordinates."

 

"Very well," Icarion clasped his friend's shoulder once again. "I believe it is time we found some answers."

 

~*~

 

[bluntblade]

Question - do we know if Raiden is that old? I imagined him being, not one of the elder legionaries, but not especially young either.

[TheBlindPrimarch]

I was under the impression that Raiden was friends with icarion before he was discovered by the Emperor.

[bluntblade]

I'd clarify that with Atrawes. His artwork and models suggest he's younger than he would be in that case.

[bluntblade]

Also, it'd really screw with one of my LB stories.

[Skalpynock]

Well, one of the LB/Harbingers geneseed idiosyncracies is looking young.

[simison]

To echo Skal, all of the Lightning Bearers retain a youthful appearance longer than a typical Space Marine. But I don't know Raiden's origins, so I'm not sure how old he is. That said, even if Raiden is younger than Blind thinks, nothing that is currently written needs to be revised.

 

Three pointers. One, ship names in italics. Two, Travier, despite efforts to the contrary, is still the black sheep, much like Lorgar. That's not a criticism of what's currently written, but to give you ideas on how to write their interaction. Three, Icarion has this innate power that people tend to interpret his communication in a tone that they're looking for. Think MoM and the Emperor. This is also a writing idea for future writing.

 

So far, I like it. I think you've accurately captured how unsettling it is for someone so used to having a power to suddenly have to deal with being denied it. The fact that it's a relatively small thing (why is Brother asking for x?) ends up highlighting just how crippling it is. Looking forward to reading more of it. 

[bluntblade]

Good point Skal

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Part 2:

 

 

~*~

 

Icarion stepped from the ramp of his Storm Eagle; the course, white sand of the strange planet crunching under his armored boots. It was all white, as far as even his super-human sight could see. White and featureless. There were no mountains, no changes in elevation at all; and stranger still, no clouds in the milky white sky nor a single gust of wind. He was reminded of a version of the after-life he'd read about from one of the ancient books found in his father's library on Terra, written by members of a superstitious religion originating from before the "Age of Darkness." A place meant to punish those who denied the irrational beliefs of that religion. A place called Purgatory.

 

He looked up as his brother approached from where a moment ago there had been nothing with two of his Jaguar Toa Terminators, his elite guard; following behind him, the purple scales of the Mexicatii Ground Dragons adorning their armor glittering in the light. His reddish-brown face, framed by his dark grey hair which hung loose; appeared even darker due to the stark whiteness of their surroundings. The golden ink of the tattoos depicting the gods of Mexicatii Prime above his eye-brows and on his cheeks gleamed dully along with the ring in his nose, which was also gold. His face lit up with a smile that never quite made it to his sharp, angular; bloodshot blue eyes as he closed what little distance remained between them.

 

"Brother, you came!" Alexos exclaimed as he looked up to his taller sibling, grasping Icarion's forearm in a warrior's handshake.

 

"Indeed I have," Icarion replied warily as he returned his brother's smile, gripping the stockier Primarch's shoulder. "Though I look forward to the reason you've brought me to such an odd planet."

 

"Of course," Alexos grew serious, the smile falling from his face like water off an oiled surface; and glanced at Icarion questioningly. "Though I admit I'm surprised you don't already know. You haven't divined the purpose of my invitation?"

 

Icarion looked thoughtfully at his brother as he shook his head no. Was it possible that he had detected a hint of hope in his sibling's question? He mentally brushed the suspicion aside as he read the concern in Alexos' eyes. 'Besides,' he thought to himself. 'It wasn't just unlikely his brother could influence the warp into retarding his powers. Such a thing simple wasn't possible.'

 

"Unfortunately no," Icarion sighed. "Something, some force; I don't know what, has prevented me from divining anything about this moment in time." He looked away from Alexos, who was stroking his chin ruminatively. "It's as if there is a void in the Immaterium here."

 

"Perhaps it's another of this remarkable planet's unusual traits," Alexos replied, practically mumbling to himself; after a moment. "It would explain the communication issues and my Navigator's distress when we first arrived."

 

Icarion turned suddenly.

 

"Navigator's distress, unusual traits?" he asked as he began to become suspicious of his brother's intent in calling him to this place once again. Was he trying to off-balance him to gain some advantage? For what reason? He squared off with Alexos. "Explain yourself, Brother."

 

"Forgive me, Icarion," Alexos smiled, his arms held wide with his palms upwards in an apologetic gesture. "I've been studying this planet's extraordinary qualities since our unintended arrival two months ago and it was only by sending my ship to the edge of the system that I was able to get even that short message through the interference."

 

"You've been here for two months?" Icarion asked, surprised; his earlier suspicion abating.

 

"Indeed I have," Alexos replied, the smile still on his face. "And I've discovered things here that defy logic, conditions that shouldn't be possible."

 

"Such as?" Icarion pushed, his curiosity piqued.

 

"Well, for example," Alexos began as he turned and walked back in the direction he'd come from, indicating that Icarion should follow. "This planet has no rotation. It sits still in the void."

 

"Yet it has an atmosphere." Icarion replied as he followed his brother, the Honor-guards of both Primarchs trailing behind them.

 

"True." Alexos nodded as he continued. "It also has no discernible mass."

 

"That's impossible!" Icarion exclaimed in surprise, stopping in his tracks. "The planet would have no gravity otherwise."

 

"I am aware," Alexos laughed as he turned back towards his brother, obviously delighted by his brother's reaction. "That impossible fact alone was enough to burn out the cogitators on the bridge aboard the Tira-to!"

 

"Truly this is a mysterious planet of contradictions," Icarion mused, scanning the flat expanse once more before turning to regard his brother. "However, even with the inquisitive mind of a man of science; I doubt these discoveries alone would have given you reason enough to call me here."

 

"And you'd be right." Travier sneered darkly after a moment as his left eye twitched once and the warmth fled from his smile. His brother's sudden and complete change in demeanor raised Icarion's guard instinctively but he restrained the reaction before it manifested externally. His brother's condition was well known to him, and he knew reacting to it would only serve to make it worse.

 

"Then what compelled you to summon me?" Icarion asked carefully. Travier sneered again before walking five paces in the direction they had been traveling. He stopped and half turned towards Icarion, glaring at him sideways through hooded eyes. Without breaking eye contact he pointed at something beyond him and growled.

 

"This."

 

~*~

 

 

 

Spoiler tags used due to lengthhttp://image.bolterandchainsword.com//public/style_emoticons/default/msn-wink.gif

Edited March 5, 2017 by TheBlindPrimarch

[simison]

"...if there is [avoid] in the..." Methinks there's a missing space here. 

 

Also, I'm curious about the facial tattoos on Travier. Wouldn't any reference to the Mexicatii deities have been erased with the torture session? Or did he put them back on when he re-discovered Chaos?

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Editedhttp://image.bolterandchainsword.com//public/style_emoticons/default/thumbsup.gif

 

Honestly I just based his description off of what I could find in the Eagle Warriors Thread. If I had to venture a guess, I would figure either they could not be removed, were allowed to remain or were reapplied.

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Part 3:

 

 

 

Being surprised is the reaction to being presented with the completely unexpected. For it to happen, to a person has to be utterly unprepared for what is about to occur. That it was an emotion Icarion was experiencing felt simply wrong. Wrong for a Primarch; wrong for him. It was a sensation he was wholly unfamiliar with, considering his gifts in divination was a sensation he was rapidly growing to dislike for it's prevalence while his powers were being obstructed. Yet as he stood on the edge of the giant bowl before him, seemingly scooped from the flat expanse that was the rest of the planet; having walked forward to discover for himself what his brother had found, he could think of no better word to describe his emotion. He was well and truly surprised.

 

The bowl had to be roughly four kilometers in diameter and easily over two thousand feet deep. It's base was made up of level ground that mirrored the shape of the outer edge of the bowl, except it was around two kilometers smaller in diameter than the outer edge. The ground sloped gradually from the edge of the bowl to the outer edge of the base and had it not been for the crudely made stairs Icarion had noticed had been cut into the wall of the bowl by Alexos' men, the slope would have been far too steep to traverse, even for them. The bowl was obviously constructed rather than naturally occurring. The proof made apparent by the crispness of the edge of the bowl and the lack of imperfections in the slope. However, regardless of the many questions Icarion had concerning the bowl; who made it, how did they make it and why? It wasn't the bowl that held his interest, but the massive structure at it's epicenter.

 

The cathedral, which was truly a cathedral as no other title seemed to do the building justice, was reminiscent of the architectural Gothic style commonly found in the buildings of the Imperial Palace on Terra. Made, impossibly enough, of the same white sand that covered the planet. The cathedral consisted of one large rectangular structure that to Icarion's perspective seemed situated along a north/south line of orientation. It had six shorter wings, equal distant in length, pointing to the six other Cardinal and Inter-cardinal directions and a covered walkway made of pointed arches in the shape of a circle that intersected each wing at it's midpoint. Of course lacking any gravitational pole with which to orientate himself, he realized those directional descriptions were entirely based on his own internal compass and would likely be different depending on where one stood on the rim of the bowl.

 

The walls of each wing were supported by sweeping buttresses covered in intricate carvings whose detail Icarion couldn't make out, gargoyles standing sentinel at the point where each buttress angled sharply downwards. Between each buttress stood beautifully arched plane glass windows, the shining glass reflecting the white sky. The ends of the north, east and west wings sported additional buttresses, splayed outwards like fingers on a hand.

 

Most notable of all was the massive ocular window, adorned with a brilliant eight-pointed starburst, over the grand entrance. There were two massive arched windows on either side depicting what appeared to be angels and five smaller ones arrayed in a line below them. The entire southern face of the entrance was covered in majestic carvings and statues of even more angels and topped by twin bell towers that reached high into the sky and played host to countless stony wardens. The building was awe inspiring , yet oddly disturbing at the same time.

 

"You're gawking brother," Travier teased, snapping Icarion from the fugue state he hadn't noticed he'd entered. "Though your stupefaction is understandable."

 

"Primarchs don't gawk," Icarion replied, annoyed more-so by his lapse in focus than by his brother's jibe. "I was merely noting the details of the structure for later record."

 

"Your mouth was hanging open wide enough for a Mexicatii Skull Knocker Beetle to have landed and laid it's eggs in your throat," Travier grumbled. "I'd call that gawking."

 

"I'd prefer not to imagine that fate if you don't mind," Icarion sighed, not wanting to be drawn into an argument with his brother's considerably less agreeable side. It'd be easier for his brother to fit in with the rest of their siblings if he could only remain Alexos more often than he became Travier, but even their father seemed unable to affect his brother's condition. He huffed in annoyance as he pointed to the stairs leading downward into the bowl. "I take it you've been inside?"

 

"Of course," Travier grinned wickedly. "There's the most amazing thing inside that place, well worth the two dozen menials that died carving that path," he paused, a strange look crossing his face before vanishing into his near constant sneer while Travier was in ascendancy. "strange that the blood left no mark on the sand when their bodies were split open from the fall."

 

"What's inside the building?" Icarion hissed through clenched teeth, his patience with his brother's darker half wearing thin. The sneer faded from Travier's face as he grew deathly serious.

 

"You'll see." He replied grimly as he turned to walk down the stairs into the bowl. Icarion sighed again, following a moment later.

 

 

 

 

I'm a little iffy about this section...kind of feels like I spent too much time describing the cathedral, or many not enough...I'm not sure. As always C&C is welcome and appreciated!

Edited March 16, 2017 by TheBlindPrimarch

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Part three completehttp://image.bolterandchainsword.com//public/style_emoticons/default/sweat.gif

[bluntblade]

I wouldn't have Travier jeer. He knows Icarion is too vital to risk angering him. I suggest that he makes an off-hand remark about how the sight can startle those unaccustomed to it.

[TheBlindPrimarch]

Thank you for your feedback, blunt. My intent was to show a difference in character between the two sides of Alexos...The idea being that Alexos is one half of his split personality and Travier was the other. Alexos seeks the approval and camaraderie of his brothers, especially Icarion's while Travier is the opposite. The use of "Jeer" was meant to imply a darker version of a joke. I might be taking too much liberty with Travier's character though, I was basing it off what I know of schizophrenia and what I've read about him.

 

I could use something like-

"You're gawking brother," Travier teased, snapping Icarion from the fugue state he hadn't noticed he'd entered. "Though your stupefaction is understandable."