Deathwatch: Murderers in Black (IC Thread)

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

Gerhardt cast his gaze about the strategium, eyeing the assembled warriors warily and rubbed his newly freed wrists. He felt as though he had changed since he last stood amongst those he would call his oath-brothers, amongst Kill-Team Lucifer, and he had been changed: a small part of himself had been chipped away to wither and die far beneath where he now stood. He swallowed and wet his chapped lips before speaking.

 

“I can see the mistrust in your eyes, the hatred carried in some of your breasts. I do not blame you – I feel I can scarcely trust myself, my memory at times. But I come to you now to defend myself and my honour, and to implore you to heed my words.”

 

Gerhardt sank to one knee before Watch-Captain Skaayn, resting one grime-encrusted hand upon the other.

 

“I have had a revelation, Watch-Captain. My memories of the slaying of Dendinius have returned in full, or as fully as can be hoped. The… Brother-Librarian… called to me in my sleep, he spoke into my mind.” A wave of disgust swept across the Templar’s features, but he continued, “He was panicked, in grave danger. He had been ambushed, poisoned by a mortal clad in featureless garb black as midnight. His, his mental wards, as he said, were crumbling. Something foul and born of the Warp had found him and threatened to open a breach through his mind. I found myself summoned, drawn to his chambers, guided there sword in hand. He begged my forgiveness, that he required my hatred to do the deed.”

 

The Black Templar bowed his head before the half-ring of astartes around him.

 

“I slew the witch. I broke his curse. But I saw to it he did not suffer.” 

 

He took a deep breath, his muscle-bound chest heaving, before continuing, "I do not feel that my actions were entirely my own, but I have come to see now that it was the Will of the Emperor acting through Dendinius which guided my hand, which led me to his cell, which freed him from his torment, which caused me to break my oath to, to… no, wait…” 

 

He looked up at the others, a half-mad grin lighting his otherwise grim features.

 

“I did not break my oath to the Black Guard! I did as you bid, Watch-Captain! I worked with the psyker!”

 

A palpable wave of relief washed over Gerhardt, and he felt as if a great lodestone had been lifted from his shoulders. He prostrated himself before the Watch-Captain, and amidst a fit of maddened laughter managed to say, “I place myself at your mercy, Lord. Grant me a swift death, or give me leave to rejoin this august brotherhood as a penitent knight, to serve you until war claims me – I care not, for now I can die with my honour intact and the knowledge that I did not break my oath in serving the Emperor!”
 

Edited June 19 by Necronaut

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

Brother Gerhardt had been brought in, he was in a sorry state. But he was proud.

 

Asterius recalled Brother Moridyn's words.

 

 

I would not wish it on anyone.

 

 

 

"At least the dead Gerhardt would have his memories!"

 

 

 

 

 

[Lord_Ikka]

Moridyn

 

"Gerhardt is no Chaplain, charged with administering discipline and death among his brethren. His conviction that he did Dendinius' will does not absolve him of his crime."

 

The Star Phantom grimaced at Asterius' words.

 

Addressing the Black Shield, "Death removes the memories of all men. He can serve shorn of the trappings of his former life and earn absolution thus. An execution benefits no one- the kill team is already down one member and losing another would put our future missions at greater risk of failure. Dead, he is just an object lesson for future brothers, while as a Black Shield, Gerhardt will be of use.

 

"Stripped of his honours, his history, and his name he can find both punishment and restitution. A living example of penance."

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

The spectacle, and the words of the others broke him from futile calculus on how to cheat fate of precious hours.

 

The babbling was...disturbing. This was not the warrior from the training cages, nor even the imprisoned penitent; this was a man pleading for reason and sanity denied him by an ordeal. Azadth paused. He much preferred the notion of the last walk, when the condemned or witless strode out into the Green with nought but a loincloth and blade, seeking a last, extinction burst of purpose against the insanity clawing to get out of his skull.

 

Sometimes they achieved panacea, an impossible few returning sane. Mainly, the jungle devoured them, the loss of faculty catastrophic in such an environment.

 

Gerhardt's own mania, lurking in flesh scourged and denied, was, to Azadth, a very strange well from which draw the water of resolve, but the marionette violation had broken the Templar entirely. The Librarian had indeed usurped him. With that thought came bitterness, and anger. Pity threatened, but he savagely crushed it. His hand ached, and looking down, he noticed his knuckles bleached white on the Khukurai's grip, thumb wearing at the carved figure of Rakki-Tavi etched into the ironwood.

 

Destiny had decreed this, had placed all here to satisfy some unknown purpose. All voices around him were raised to the Templar's defence.

 

Azadth took several long breaths, let them whisper through his lips as he refocused.

 

'Agha Skaayn, we must secure this hold.'

 

EDIT: Changed direction on this, since I wasn't happy - too OOC for Azadth.

 

Edited June 20 by Mazer Rackham
Deleted garbageness

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

"I was agreeing with you counsel Brother Moridyn, although it is a fate that I would not wish on anyone."

 

"Asterius is my name and it is all that I was allowed to keep after the Edict of Obliteration and the psyche-conditioning."

 

"To see the heraldry on your chapter pauldron lasered away and then see your hands administering the black to its face."

 

 

 

 

Edited June 20 by Machine God
tidy up

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

"The codex instructs that any who lose their way to the immaterium must be struck down without regard to rank or status. Call it mercy as you will but it was the duty of any Astartes to end Dendinius that day"

 

Turning to confront Gerhardt but addressing the rest, "one so touched by the warp who cannot know his own voice from others, who would hear the Emperors words in the whispers of the warp can never lead. I concur that here there can only be pennance unto death, there is no question but when".

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

“Death before dishonour, Star Phantom. We have no chaplain here in this den of iniquity. I did what had to be done, guided by the hand of Dendinius or not. Even the psyker, diseased as his mind was, understood this! This was the Emperor's Will! And I would sooner DIE than obliterate the Crusader's Cross!"

 

Gerhardt practically spat the words out. 

 

Did they not understand what a hellish ordeal this had been for him already?! Were they all deaf to his appeal? Did they not understand the gravity of a daemonic incursion? How could they not see this was the will of the Emperor?

 

"What would you have done, Scorpion? What does your precious Codex prescribe when the daemonic threatens to claim the mind of one of your brethren? What would any of you have done differently?"

 

Truly he was surrounded by madmen!

 

"Execute me and be done with it, if that is your sentence, Watch-Captain. I will suffer no further slights to my honour, nor any further indignities from those I swore to shed xenos blood alongside."

Edited June 20 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

'All here have taken the yoke to exonerate you,' Azadth began quietly, in the aftermath of the Sword and Scorpion's clash. His voice was cool steel in the furnace heat of Gerhardt's zeal. 'That is what we would have done if it was any other of us falsely accused.'

 

The Mantis Warrior levied his full attention on the Marine prostrate on the well-worn deck of the strategium.

 

Azadth fixed him with a piercing, emerald gaze. 'Now take your head out of your arse, and stand up.'

 

OOC: I've edited my previous post because it was too OOC. This direction fits Azadth/Gerhardt's interactions and Azadth's bluff manner of challenge better.

 

Edited June 20 by Mazer Rackham
Garbageness removed.

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

The Scorpion stepped towards Gerhardt, locking his gaze, "I would have killed him and claimed the act. I would have driven him from my mind and struck him down with my own arm, my own voice, my own will."

 

The Templar knew this and perhaps that was the cause of his madness, that if somehow it was the voice of the Emperor that he might ignore the truth that it was Dendinius alone that had pierced his mind.

 

(note - reply intended before Azadths statement)

Edited June 20 by A.T.

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

"Believe what you wish, Scorpion."

 

He turned his gaze back towards the Mantis Warrior.

 

“And for your confidence, Brother Azadth, and any of the rest of you, you have my eternal gratitude. You shoulder me with a debt I can never repay. But you, Brother Moridyn, you, Brother Omoc, you ask too much of me. I can no more forsake my chapter heraldry than I can carve out both of my hearts. I. Will. Never. NEVER. Strike these colours from my shoulder.”

 

The Black Templar stared up defiantly at his comrades, with indignant and righteous fury smouldering in his breast.

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Scene 5. Leaving It All Behind

 

Aarval Skaayn listens carefully as Gerhardt and others speak. Finally he raises a hand, ready to make his decision.

 

“Thank you, brothers,” he offers quietly, and the Strategium immediately falls silent. Once it is, he continues.

 

“Firstly, the purpose of taking the black is to give a loyal son of a fallen Chapter an opportunity to continue to serve the Emperor. It is not a way for an individual to absolve themself of personal crimes. Nor would I ask it of anyone whose Chapter was still loyal. It is not an option in this case.”

 

The Raptor's usually gruff voice has become more formal. He looks down at where Gerhardt waits.

 

“So, this is my judgement. You killed Codicier Dendinius… but you did not murder him. It is clear to me that your actions were taken at the behest of and in concert with our psychic brother. It is also clear that those actions were taken with the intent of protecting this unit and this facility, and allowing Dendinius to end his life with his honour and dignity intact. I declare it a mercy killing.”

 

“It is no different than if one of us were brought low by an enemy attack, and our Apothecary here,” he gestures towards Amaras, “was required to administer the Emperor's Peace. I would not require a penance from him, simply for doing his duty."

 

“As such, there is no crime for you to answer for, and I see no logic in censure or punishment. Further, there is no dishonour to the Watch for which Gerhardt might be dismissed from our ranks. As several of you have said, we will have need of every loyal warrior in our mission to Dorghra VII, and I would not deprive us of any one of them.”

 

He pauses.

 

“However… as to Gerhardt’s rank as Watch-Sergeant, that is a matter that I will leave to Squad Lucifer to decide. I have no objection to him continuing to serve, but a leader must have the respect and trust of all his unit. If you cannot all give such, then you must choose another.”

 

“At that point, I will consider the matter closed…,” he pauses again, then lets out a sudden snort of bitter amusement, “...with, of course, the exception that we still need to find out who poisoned Dendinius, and why, and then make the filth pay for their treachery. I intend to see all of that happen… but it will have to wait until our return from Dorghra VII.”

 

He nods, almost to himself, and looks at his chrono.

 

“I need to speak with the officers who are caring for the Bulwark’s defences while we are gone. The Watchstation will be sealed. When you have resolved things here, prepare yourselves for departure. We will meet in the Iron Sabre’s hangar in… seven hours.”

 

 

 

OOC: Ok, so things that could be looked at in this week's posts:

 

Your reactions to Skaayn's judgement and/or Gerhardt's acquittal. Following on from that, do you want to elect a new Watch-Sergeant?

 

Once that is sorted out, then we can move on to Requisition in preparation for the next stage of the story, the mission to Dorghra VII. As mentioned previously, your success against the Orks means you are more trusted, and you are now all considered to be at Renown: Respected and each player will have 20 Req to spend. I'll leave the Req sheet in the Drive folder as it is, so you can see what you took in the previous session, but feel free to change stuff around?

 

Also, don't forget that at the end of the last play ‘session’ I awarded all players 500xp, which puts everyone on a total of 1500xp spent/ to spend. Obviously, any purchases might make more of a difference as we head into more Structured Time, so it's up to you if you want to spend your xp!

 

 

[Lord_Ikka]

Moridyn

 

Moridyn nodded acceptance at the Watch-Captain's verdict. It was not what he believed was just, but it was decided and done. Regardless of his personal thoughts about the fanatical Black Templar's guilt or innocence, he would follow Skaayn's orders. As for the matter of the kill-team's leadership...

 

"I see no need to change leadership now. Gerhardt has my trust in leading the kill-team."

 

With abruptness, he left the group and headed to the armoury. He had requested a plasmagun and must tend to it before going out on the mission, as the best performance came from a weapon that a warrior was familiar with. Training and rites of consecration would make the new weapon a worthy companion to his trusty shotgun. 

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi: 

 

Zidemi had kept his counsel until now. He was inclined to agree with the Watch-Captain's judgement on the matter. He was not so certain on what his other brother's were demanding of Gerhardt. “I am not one to demand another to disassociate with their chapter. In fact, I do not believe anyone here has that authority. Only Gerhardt can make that decision."

He continued, “I will insist that his rank be stripped, and that another of us take the mantle of Watch-Sergeant. I do not want a penitent battle-brother leading our team."

 

He looked intently at Gerhardt, as if anticipating his objection. "You will be eager to redeem yourself. To throw yourself at the enemy when you need to direct us. To break formation when we need cohesion. This is a wound that will not heal in time for the battle ahead. You will need to demonstrate again that you can stand at our side in the fires of battle."

 

Upon mention of 'fires of battle', Zidemi’s thoughts began to drift to matters of a productive nature. “My Lord, brothers, with the reduced preparation window, I will need to ensure the Armoury is prepared to supply us for the Dorghra Seven mission. I suggest we quickly resolve the leadership question, then move onto the briefing and requisitions.”

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

He listened to Zidemi speak, 

 

"I'm an Assault Marine it's what I do, I wear the bear-shirt!" 

 

 

 

 

 

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

"He does not have mine."

 

He was surprised as to the Mantis Warriors acceptance for their was no more to be said, it could no longer be known that Gerhardts words were his own and he had seen with his own eyes the cost of misplaced trust in the face of the unknown.

Edited June 21 by A.T.

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

Gerhardt scowled after the departing Red Scorpion but held his tongue. He was growing to detest Brother Omoc’s presence and his puritanical proclamations regarding the psyker and the Warp. A fine thing for him to claim that Gerhardt was tainted when his chapter still produced and fielded psyker battle-brothers! The Templars had been free of that taint for as far back as they had recorded history!

 

But truth be told, he did not think he was up to the task to command such a disagreeable collection of battle-brothers until he had served some sort of penance, until he had purified himself in the flames of battle once again and cleansed himself of the touch of the witch. He would need all of his faculties focused upon squad-level strategy and a thousand foot view to wrangle this lot. The Salamander provided good counsel.

 

Gerhardt stood and bowed his head before the remaining astartes who had deigned to not so abruptly and rudely depart from the strategium.

 

“Watch-Captain, I thank you for your mercy in this matter. I do not wish to cause further friction within the kill-team, so on the council of Brother Zidemi, and others,” he said through gritted teeth, his eye twitching with great vexation, "I will step down from my position. I do not believe I am fit to serve as Watch-Sergeant for Kill-Team Lucifer any longer. I wish to purge myself of the psyker’s touch, to purify my spirit and cleanse myself in the crucible of battle. I will serve penance and hold a vigil of purification until such time as the rest of you deem me ready to fully rejoin you as an equal." 

 

He paused, looking the others up and down, meeting their hard-eyed stares.

 

“I would nominate Brother Vafri to be Watch-Sergeant. He proved to be a more than capable second during our encounter with the orks, and I believe his temperament likely to be more suited to commanding the Kill-Team than mine at this time. I will faithfully serve whoever takes up the burden of command. I must go now to begin my penance.”

 

He bowed to the semi-circle of warriors and departed for the reclusiam.

 

+++

 

The flames of tallow candles burned brightly in his eyes as he knelt before the effigy of the Emperor. He was alone, and the knotted leather scourge he had fashioned was wound tightly around his right hand. The fresh wounds across his back and shoulders were already stitching themselves together, such were the enhanced recuperative powers of an astarted, but it mattered little.

 

A hundred times the lash had cracked across his back, and a hundred times he had prayed to the Emperor and Primarch for strength and forgiveness. A hundred times he had sworn to purge the weakness, the darkness from his mind, and a hundred times he had sworn to make amends with the blood of xenos. 

 

He had served penance and participated in trials of purity before but this time was different – this time he needed the cruelty of the lash, the mortification of the flesh. This time he desired it.

 

Only through pain would he be made pure again.

 

Only through pain could he be sure he was ready to exterminate the endless, disgusting hordes of xenos.

Edited June 21 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

EDIT: OOC edited to fit around Necro's post. All done.

 

Ahga Skaayn had spoken, and the fates had aligned to this end. Proving the Templar innocent was one thing, but Zidemi and Omoc had given Azadth much for thought. There was nothing more to be said.

 

Speaking earnestly, the Templar gave voice, suggesting Váfri as the new Kill Team leader, and Azadth blinked. The Space Wolf was a good candidate. 'I support the nomination,' he said quietly, glancing sidelong at the Grey Hunter with a slight smirk. Better you than me.

 

He marched away before riposte, a small smile seizing his lips. He had to get down to the armoury, wired into harness, and draw equipment. The Dorghra complex was a mining concern, tight quarters, likely pit-holes, deadfalls, and darkness. He would have to steel himself against the constriction, and thereby, could not rely on his judgement to lead. He would not volunteer, but he was certain the Sky-Khan would provide the answer.

 

A small indulgence first, then. Never let it be said he would counsel others to action he would shirk. Besides, the intrigues here had...polluted his mind.

 

He quickened his pace, to that beyond a human effort to match, striding from the keep as though lordly retainers attended, and made for the deep streams nearby. Twenty minutes of hard pace built up a lather of the viscous Astartes sweat, the spiced tang of his diet eking through his pores. He stopped, allowing his breath to settle, for even though his lungs were far from exhausted, he would need the air.

 

Cool meltwaters flowed into a granite basin, and grin still affixed, he shed his clothes and plunged into the shock of freezing, fresh water.

 

His mind was focussed handsomely.

 

When he returned to the keep, his feet guided him past the small reclusiam, where he could hear the Templar's admonitions for his weakesses and rededicating himself to the Sky-Khan.

 

Azadth paused at the door as the Swordsman seemed to finish, leaning back on his haunches. Keeping his voice low in deference to occasion, he fired his passing, parting shot at Gerhardt's back.

 

'If you will not scour your heraldry, Knight, at least bathe.' It would do him good to slough off the ripe and rot of an Inquisition cell. 

 

Then he was gone.

 

Edited June 21 by Mazer Rackham
Timing

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

Whether acknowledged or not by the newcomer, he cared not. He was a Black Shield he was used to it. 

 

He'd voiced his arguments and opinions to the galaxy. 

 

He was fine with whoever lead as long as he could rage against the Xenos foe. 

 

He'd followed Brother Azadth who had sought out the disgraced Brother Gerhardt. 

 

"You can bathe your soul later Brother Gerhardt, I want your after-mission report on me. 

Here in this shrine or in the training cages!" 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited June 21 by Machine God
Cages

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi:

 

Zidemi nodded sagely at Gerhardt's nomination of the Space Wolf.

 

"I concur," Zidemi responded. "Vafri has demonstrated acumen befitting a squad sergeant. He had my vote as well." 

 

The Techmarine observed silently as the others departed from the chamber, many making their last statements on the matter. Yet, at the same time it seemed much was left unspoken. He would be the last to leave the strategium, making his way for the Forge.

 

Edited June 29 by Mike Zulu
redundant placeholder removed

[Machine God]

Asterius:

 

Sometime later. 

 

He took the words and punishment of Brother Gerhardt and thought on them. 

 

 

His memories caused him to return to his cell on the way to the Armorium. He picked up the strange symbol and went to see Techmarine Zidemi.

 

When he got there he presented the finely crafted item to him.

 

"I hadn't long been part of Squad Lucifer before the mission to attack the Orks had departed, but Brother Ki'shar treated me with respect and he crafted me this item. It is an Ankh, he said that it would aid me. It is a fine piece of craftsmanship."

 

Asterius withdrew his bolt pistol and asked Techmarine Zidemi.

 

"I would like to requisition two magazines of Kraken Rounds for my Bolt Pistol. Also would it be possible to have a Fire Selector fitted with voice recognition?"

 

 

 

 

 

Edited June 28 by Machine God
Fire Selector

[Necronaut]

Placeholder

[Mazer Rackham]

Azadth:

 

He left the Templar and Blackshield to converse as he paced the labyrinth of the Bulwark. A warren of dressed burrows, regulated stones placed upon each other as an edifice to dwell within, to defend. This place was an icon of dominion, of control in the wilderness, but just as the savagery of the Green haunted the hearts of men, here it was...civilised.

 

Azadth had placed this behind him, for now, leaving the secrets and lies in the shadows of the keep. It had been a bit of an adventure in itself, putting his brain to work as well as his instincts. A tracker, a huntsman, turned to something akin to the Judges of the Arbites. Civilised.

 

He was glad of the nude pool plunge.

 

He found himself in the tower with his meagre belongings, the painted boards and whittled flute. He wondered what would become of it should he not return. Perhaps some other Astartes would look upon it quizzically, maybe they would leave it here for another to finish. A handing over of the greater work, the constant battle against the Kalimatakata.

 

Such was the will and destiny made for him by the Khagan.

 

Azadth's bare feet patrolled further, down to the hall of weapons, where the other Marines assembled to acquire the equipment they thought would best serve them in the battle ahead. The lack of quality intelligence was inconvenient, but such trivial things would not stop the Space Marines. Adapt and survive. Survive to fight. Fight to win. Win, and adapt.

 

His hands reached for racks of weapons and equipment, tagging them with arming ribbons in the yellow and emerald of his Chapter. The serfs would carry these to the arming station when he was in harness, having donned his war face. Once his gear was selected, he surrendered his flesh into the care of ceramite and plasteel of the armour. Its war-spirit greeted him in kinship, interfacing with his black carapace and neural-augurs seamlessly.

 

Both desired to be about their masters' business.

 

Finally, Azadth maglocked his equipment, pulling it around to where he could get everything, repeating the rhythm of draw-check-replace. By the third recital, his body knew the weight, heft and reach.

 

He stood, passively watching the others prepare before they moved onwards to the next phase of the eternal cycle.

[A.T.]

Omoc

 

It proceeded then, amidst fools and traitors both. It was clear that the kill team itself was hunted if perhaps only to further some other goal and any weaknesses exploited.

 

The armoury did little to assuage his mood as a cursory inspection revealed the fortress carried neither witch bolts nor null weaponry, and now that the witch was dead the kill teams preparedness to face such a threat had already been drawn into question.

 

Brute force it would be then. Burn it all and leave no possibility of escape.

[Necronaut]

Gerhardt

 

OOC: The following takes place immediately following Mazer and MG’s earlier posts. Sorry for the delay in submission.

 

The Mantis Warrior's chiding elicited the faintest hint of a smile from the Templar, but by the time he turned to confront the slippery warrior he was already gone. Instead, the black shield, Asterius was there. Gerhardt’s eyes narrowed at the other's request, but he simply nodded and replied, “To the training cages then." 

 

+++

 

Half an hour later both he and Asterius were drenched in sweat, their arms and torsos sporting an assortment of cuts and bruises. They weren't fighting for points or to first blood or even for bragging rights, but simply for its own sake. Gerhardt was the first to lower his sparring blade. 

 

"Enough, black shield. Enough. I yield.”

 

They had been hacking away at one another like rabid beasts unchained. Asterius was clearly hindered by his new augmetic leg, and his flesh was raw and red and puckered where it met the cold steel and silicon of the prosthetic. But the assault marine had accounted himself well, compensating for his reduced mobility with bloody-minded savagery. Gerhardt, the consummate swordsman himself, was regularly confronted with a wall of steel which needed to be peeled back layer by layer like an onion made from razorblades to have any hope of making a mark on his sparring partner.

 

The brutality of the bout had been most salutary.

 

“My thanks for the taste of your bladework. Woe unto the foes of Man who face you. Now I will repay you in kind.”

 

The Templar paused to take a cloth from the outstretched hand of his serf attendant and wiped the training sword down before returning the cloth and offering the blade to the human who took it with a reverent bow and departed. 

 

“You fought well against the orks. Briefly. We were in a position, you and I, to reap a mighty toll upon the greenskin horde when you abandoned your position in an ill-advised attempt decapitate their heavily armoured leader.”

 

Gerhardt scowled at the memory of the greenskins and their disgusting physiology, and how he put them all to the torch in the aftermath. 

 

"I admire your zeal, black shield… Brother Asterius. I am reminded of how eager I was as a chapter neophyte to charge into the teeth of the enemy and prove myself to the Emperor. But what you did bordered upon suicide. I pulled you clear of the fray after you had been… wounded," he said, nodding at the other's metal leg.

 

“I know not what crimes you or your chapter committed such that you would forsake their memory and lineage, nor what would drive you to take such a reckless action, but you belong to the Deathwatch now. Your death in battle, your moment of redemption will come in time, but it is not yours to seek out. The Emperor alone knows what awaits you. You would do well to temper your bloodlust, your death-wish, and meditate upon the glory that is our Master and His sacrifice, just as I will pray for strength and guidance to conquer whatever weakness lurks in my hearts whilst I toil for my own redemption." 

 

Gerhardt nodded respectfully to Asterius and departed. 

 

+++

 

Doing as Brother Azadth had bade him, the Black Templar bathed and ritually anointed himself with blessed oil before descending into the fiery bowels of the armourium, where tech-thralls and chapter serfs laboured tirelessly to maintain the Imperial war machine. Kneeling before a coterie of red priests, Gerhardt was encased within his second skin of baroque steel and ceramite and fibre bundles while a high septon of the Machine Cult droned monotonously in High Gothic and binharic and swung the smoking pendulum of his censer, exhorting his servants in their holy work and rousing the machine spirits to new heights of fury. 

 

He rose and waited patiently while chapter serfs came forth with reams of thin strips of parchment upon which he had inscribed his vows, his prayers, his hatreds and his acts of penance in an exacting script with black ink, and they worked as a team to affix each to his war plate with arterial wax while a jump pack was lowered onto his mantle and fastened into place. He resembled a hulking black mendicant swathed in paper rags and hewn from volcanic rock. He was death made flesh.

 

His sword appeared and he slid it free from its tooled leather scabbard, while Boeckner came to his side with the dense, black devotion chain, which was clasped about his wrist and welded shut, firmly anchoring Drachenhauer to his arm. Eisenfaust came next, borne between two serfs, and when it was placed in his silvered gauntlet and his fingers were firmly around the grip, he ordered that the immense boltgun be chained to that arm in turn such that it should never leave his grasp while his enemies still drew breath in the ancient tradition of his chapter.

 

His penance would now start in earnest. Woe betide the xenos and the witch and the heretic.

 

The eye lenses of his antique crusader helm flashed an angry red in the baleful gloom of the forge complex.

 

Imperator Vult.

Edited June 29 by Necronaut

[Mike Zulu]

Zidemi:

 

Zidemi had little time to dwell on prior matters upon returning to the Forge, for the Armoury was alive with activity.

 

Many of his battle-brothers had arrived and sought their requistions directly through him, as opposed via the serfdom as it typically would. He wondered if this was a result of his reputation as a Salamander, being eager to receive finely crafted and selected wargear. Alternatively, it was perhaps some form of disdain for the "mortals" aboard the station. Given the turmoil of late, they at least needed confidence in their wargear, and so Zidemi was intent on assuading their requests.

 

As they approached, the serfs retrieved their standard issue wargear and ammunition, as Zidemi retrieved their requisitioned weapons from the vaults and handed them to their new owners.

Moridyn had approached first, to which Zidemi supplied a Ragefire-pattern plasma gun. "Keep it spirits appeased by setting the magnetic field regulator at sixteen Tesla," he had advised.

Omoc had opted for quality over quantity: “Mars-Pattern Lascannon. We all know this weapon.” He smiled at Omoc, who did not reciprocate. He seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Asterius followed Omoc, but with another matter to discuss first. He showed him an ornament of a very familiar craftsmanship.

 

"I hadn't long been part of Squad Lucifer before the mission to attack the Orks had departed, but Brother Ki'shar treated me with respect and he crafted me this item. It is an Ankh, he said that it would aid me. It is a fine piece of craftsmanship."

 

Zidemi inspected the ornament, recognising the work as similar to the one he retrieved from Ki'shar's quarters. The symbol itself was not something used in the Salamanders chapter, but Zidemi knew that some of the Nocturean realms treated the symbol as a blessing.

 

"It is a charm, bestowing a warrior with a long and fulfilling life in His service." He looked closely at the ankh, taking note of the type of metal and the techniques likely used to craft it. "Thank you for this. I have for some time wanted to know about my late brother's crafts."

 

Asterius withdrew the charm back to his belt and relinquished his pistol. "I would like to requisition two magazines of Kraken Rounds for my Bolt Pistol. Also would it be possible to have a Fire Selector fitted with voice recognition?"

 

Zidemi nodded. "Certainly. Boechner," he waved over the grizzled serf, who was covered in more grease than ever. "Apply a vox-command Fire Selector to this Bolt Pistol. Supply Asterius with six magazines: two Kraken, four standard."

 

As Boechner took over the task, Zidemi considered how to continue Ki'shar's legacy, and the short time he had to act before departing to Dorghra VII...

 

Spoiler

OOC Technobabble: Particle accelerator magnetic fields range from 5 to 15 Tesla. For example, the Large Hadron Collider is 8 Tesla.

With the ankh, I've simply inferred the Egyptian meaning of "life". I'm not aware of any in-universe meaning.

 

OOC: I have assumed the voice activation is similar to what is described in the Dipole Mag-lock wargear, and that the GM has no objections...

Edited June 29 by Mike Zulu
Grammar