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256 M.41.851
Lordsholm, Avalos
One by one, cell by cell, the acolytes of Inquisitor Kalistrade journeyed from across the galaxy to Lordsholm on the planet Avalos.
You do not know the reason why this general summons gives you such an ill-feeling, a sense of disaster. But you put it aside and focus on the matter at hand.
You and your cell-mates meet at the entry way leading to rendezvous point. You nod to them conspiratorially. It has been a long time since you have come face to face with the Inquisitor. You hope that it would be a happy reunion.
Hand is dressed in a body glove of dark material with an equipment vest worn over the body glove.
His face is covered in a mask in the shape of some sort of animal. You might think it first to be a cat mask because of the whiskers. The rounded ears and rounder eyes suggest that the mask is of some other type of animal.
From beyond the mask, you can see blond hair and the eyes appear to be blue.
The man seems comfortable in standing still with barely any motion betraying that he is breathing.
Poking out from behind his right shoulder is a the handle of a sword that looks far more modern in construction then the man's outfit. The same could be said of the bow that can be seen extending beyond his left shoulder.
It is odd to see a man in modern times with no trace of a firearm at his hips beyond what appears to be a hand crossbow on his right hip.
The equipment harness seems to have many of the pockets filled with various items in easy reach including the handles of several throwing knives. There is also some line attached to a shoulder epaulet along with a grapple hooked to the harness.
The equipment is well maintained and ready for quick access. The man is a clear professional of his trade and the usage of the weapons he carries.
Words seem a waste of time when his manner and equipment tell everything that a person needs to know.
This is Hand; the Hand of the Emperor. Where the Hand goes, blood will follow.
Augustus arrives a moment later. He's a dark skinned youth in quite good shape and with something of a distintive appearance of his own. His stark white hair, seemingly dyed, stands out in contrast to his dark skin and seems to be an attempt to achieve exactly that result.
To add more to his apperance a small scar is present on his right cheek, a symbol honouring the Emperor. He's currently wearing a set of Administratum robes that he shifts in arkwardly, clearly unused to the flowing clothing of his recent office. The only visible weapon he carries is a small stub automatic on his hip and everything else he has with him, or owns, is in a large backpack on his back.
This was really not what he'd expected when he'd left Calin for that supply run, he'd wanted to see the stars and he had. He'd also seen huge, ravening monsters tear apart armed men like they were toys and come after him. He shuddered at the memory, only luck and the grace of the Emperor had saved him from the same fate.
And now.. now he was serving the Inquistion, and that was far more terrifying then Orcs. He knew the legends, everyone did. The Inquistion purged the Imperium of heretics and mutants that sought to destroy it from within, they were holy servants of the Emperor who were venerated.
But that didn't mean you ever wanted to meet one. An agent of the Inquistion meant heresy lurked nearby, and there were dark stories of whole planets destroyed to stop the spread of heresy.
This really wasn't he'd had in mind when he'd agreed to the supply run.
He took in Hand with a mix of alartm and curiousty. The man looked like a complete savage who'd tear Augustus' head just for being looked at and so the archivist quickly looked away. What in the Emperor's name had he gotten himself into..?
Atella steps in a moment after Augustus, she stops mid step and eyes the two carefully before continuing and walking a bit further into the entry way.
Atella has long black hair that flow over her porcelain white face, making her look either sick or just plain... odd. A second look upon her face reveales that she has violet eyes.
She is dressed in a tattered long red robe, it has several tears and smudges. A guardsmans vest is visible beneath the robe and she is armed with a small pistol, a sword and knife. The knife has a strange sheath making the blade point upward.
She had told herself all the way here that she could turn back at any moment and just leave. She knew deep down that they would find her and probably kill her if she didn't come to this meeting so it was nothing more than a way to force her feet towards the meeting. Nothing in the world terrefied her so as the inquisition did. She'd even be sent back to terra and undergo the whole procedure again.. or well.. perhaps that was about equal in horror.
She looked at the other two, an obvious killing machine and a pencil pusher. The adept felt slightly familiar but she couldn't tell from where.
With a deep sigh she opened her mouth and simply said "Hi".
Tocal wears an immaculately clean grey uniform the creases sharp enough to cut an orks hide. His jack boots are polished to a high sheen reflecting the dim lights of the cell. A new mesh vest covers his chest and groin adorned with a badge of an Adeptus Arbites. The vest is cinched at the waist by an equally new gun belt holstering a newer las pistol. He also carries a small duffle bag with the rest of his possessions.
The man in the uniform stands 6’6” with a youthfully fit build. Fine raven colored hair, cut long, frames his healthy tan complexion and icy blue eyes look out of thin wire lenses. The only mar on his handsome features is a long thin white scar running from his left ear down to his adam’s apple. He had gotten the scar from a duel to the death with his noble lord who was corrupted by the demon Slaanesh.
Tocal carries himself with the military precision of a new recruit trying to hide his inexperience. For those that can see underneath his cover of bravado is an iron will and unwavering conviction. His eyes dart around constantly looking for the smallest details of people, places and things.
Tocal assesses the others as he enters suppressing his disgust of the 'unclean' Hand and the inherent corruption of the psyker.
"They must be here at the request of the Inquisitor so I will ignore their status for now." he thinks to himself.
Augustus blinks and takes a step back as the new arrival enters the room. The combination of her skin, hair, eyes and build gave her an almost etheral appearance and it was unnerving, even more so in its own way then then the motionless killer nearby.
The woman was a good ten years older and the adept wondered briefly if she was meant to be in charge, he didn't think the masked warrior looked the type and her appearance seemed to hint at something very unusual.
Her movements showed another side however, and he quickly realised she was as nervous as him. With a jolt he also realised where he'd seen her before, being escorted and watched carefully by two of the Inquistor's guards.
He spoke back quietly, trying to show some semblance of dignity. "Hello. I'm Augustus." He wasn't sure what to say beyond that and her appearance still made him uneasy.
As the Arbiter enters Augustus straightens even more. The man must have spent hours on his uniform and Augustus cast a guilty glance at his slightly ruffled robes. The only saving grace might be that the ghostly woman's clothes were far worse then his own.
From the way he moved and looked it seemed that he was in charge and Augustus gave a polite nod, not aware enough of body language to see that the man was actually nervous himself.
She smiles at Augustus. "I'm Atella, pleased to meet you." She pauses for a while and adds "I suppose I should inform you, and all of you, that I am a sanctionite.. Don't worry though." She smiles faintly before nodding at the new arrival.
Despite being almost 5'9" she had to look upwards slightly to be able to look him in the eyes. "Oh dear" She thought to herself "He really is tall and with that uniform... I wonder if he is the one we are here to meet?"
She looks back at Augustus and looks at him intently for a few seconds. "Where have I seen this man before, oh dear.. This is going to bother me to no end until I remember." She thought to herself.
Hand's head turned slightly to take in the other arrivals.
He noted the nervousness of man in robes and the white skinned woman as she said, 'Hi'. Both carried weapons but he questioned how comfortable they would fit in their hands.
The last man to enter the room appeared to be a poster boy for recruiting. He looked like he knew how to handle his weapons but in Hand's opinion, they were too, shiny.
The man in robes said, 'Hello, I'm Augustus.'
It was a pattern response. His training had covered this. He was expected to do something.
Hand nodded at the words of greeting from the pair but said nothing himself. Words weren't required. Words wasted breath. Breath was precious. Breath was life.
Augustus begins to smile, despite her strange appearance as she introduces herself. Then she tells him she's a sanctionite and the smile vanishes as he moves back to keep room between them.
"No wonder she looks like that, she's a pysker, an actual pysker!" He'd heard of -them-, tainted souls controlled by the Inquistion to protect the Imperium from their dark magic, some were used to serve, but even then, he didn't want to be anywhere near that sort of power.
He winces as she stares intently at him, unaware of what she's doing and he looks away, trying to avoid her unnerving gaze. He nods back at the warrior, happier to look at him then the etheral psyker.
She looked at Augustus turn away. "He knows something. Why did he turn away? Have I hurt him? Perhaps he was with the people on Terra that I... was forced to do things to.. Noo.. He's too young. I'll have to watch him closely from now on."
She looked back at the killing-machine, he only nodded not answering with words. Was he afraid?
"I am arbiter Xochipilli Tocal. I assume Inquisitor Kalistrade summoned you here as well. But do you know why?"
The woman said she was a ... sanctionite. What did that mean? It was a word that had not been used at the temple. She seemed to be apologizing for it. Maybe, it meant that she carried some sort of disease that could infect others. Should he take steps to do the ritual washing after being in her presence?
The man in robes seemed to now want nothing to do with her. Clearly the woman carried something and by the man in robe's behaviour it was capable of being transmitted to others.
Those that are weak or defective need to be purged. Their blood feeds the hunger. The hunger makes us strong.
Yet, Inquisitor Kalistrade had not commanded it. The Inquisitor's will was the will of the Emperor. Hand had no will but the Emperor's will. Blood must only be offered when commanded. Blood offered without the command was tainted. Tainted blood made you weak. Weak blood needed to be purged.
The man with the shiny weapons asked, 'But do you know why?'
Why? There was never a why.
Questions make you hesitate. Hesitation makes you weak. The weak are purged.
'There is no why. Only obedience.'
Augustus smiles faintly, resigned to the situation for now. "I'm here because an Inquistor told me to be here. I don't know what he wants with me, us, whatever, but I don't say no to Inquistors."
Not that he'd met many.
"And now I'm here with a damned pysker, and.." He glances very briefly towards Hand, unsure of how to summarise the man. "And the two of you. Do -you- know why?"
He agrees with Hand's assement to a certain extent, as he'd said, he didn't question or disobey Inquistors, but he'd still like to find out what he was supposed to be doing here, so far from home.
Atella tilts her head slightly, the Augustus fellow must have been part of the wich hunters or something. Well, if he'd try that stunt now she would show him, oh, if he only would try so she could show him the might of the emperor and all his glory...
She mutters "damned psyker", almost like an insult, towards him with narrow eyes before turning towards the newcomer.
She smiles at the arbitrator "Hello Xochi.. ehm.. pilli, I'm afraid I can't help you with why, but I believe we'll find out soon enough." She waits a moment and adds "I like your clothes."
Augustus winced at the glare and shifted uneasily. why couldn't he watch his mouth, now he was going to be plagued and punished, and maybe even killed, by her witchcraft.
He muttered a "Sorry..", hoping it would divert some of the pysker's anger.
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You wanted to know more about your fellow acolytes, but there is no time. The entrance to the rendezvous point is opening and beyond is only darkness held back by the feeble light emitted from nigh-exhausted illuminators installed at the perimeter of the corridor mapping out for your convenience the path that you must take.
You walk for several minutes until you exit into a large chamber.
A throne sits upon a dais and sitting in the throne is a woman in power armor. It is Inquisitor Kalistrade.
"Welcome my acolytes. You are expected." Despite the softness of her voice, the Inquisitor's words easily fill the chamber.
"We have much to do. And our time is short."
Augustus kept his head low and stared meekly at the floor, trembling slightly. The Pysker might frighten him, the killer might unnerve him, but an Inquistor -terrifed- him. If she found him at all wanting, he was morbidly conviced she'd save time by killing him on the spot.
As she greeted them he bowed, still keeping his gaze downward. He didn't feel up to talking to her, though he might have to.
Atella kneels and bows her head deeply, she remains on the ground but raises her head to meet the inquisitors gaze.
"Hopefully she won't kill me or send me on a mission that will end my life but I doubt it." Atella thinks and takes a deep breath, hoping it is not her last.
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"Stand up, Atella," the Inquisitor commands, "Only He who seats upon the Golden Throne is deserving of such obeisance."
You glance at the Inquisitor and you find that she is a handsome woman of indeterminate age with the ramrod bearing of a warrior.
You also notice that holstered at her side is an elegantly grafted inferno pistol.
Atella brightens up visibly and stands to her feet, smiling like a young girl just recieving a big bag of candy.
Augustus raises his head slightly at the Inquistor's eyes, looking up so he's actually looking at her, although he tries not to meet her gaze.
Augustus nods, speaking quietly, though it's clear he means what he's saying. "Always Inquistor." His fingers lightly brush the devotional scar on his cheek.
Did she doubt his faith, his trust in the Emperor? No, if she did, he'd already be dead, but could this be a test..? He had nothing to hide, he believed in the Emperor. He just hoped she'd know that.
Hand moves forward to knell and bow too but the words of the Inquisitor to Attela stops him.
He instead just bows twenty degrees and say, 'As you command.'
'Speak you will and it is done.'
Atella eyes the killing-machine quickly. "Why is he so cordial? Is she doing something wrong in not sounding like a machine? Oh dear." She wished she would have had more training to handle these things.
"Ah yes, keep talking like that please, I'll find out what she has planned and I won't need to risk annoying her." Augustus felt a wave of faint gratitude for the assassin, although he doubted the man had said that for his benefit.
He stared at the extremely happy looking pysker, wondering what in the Emperor's name she was so preppy about. For all she knew this was her excution. She'd been arrested and taken prisoner, after all.
Tocal stands to attention, taking opportunity of the shock the Inquisitor has had on the others to thoroughly scrutinize them. Then he turns to do the same to the Inquisitor.
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After the Inquisitor greets you in turn and imparts some cryptic message, she makes the following announcement.
"Acolytes, there is a great evil come to this planet."
The Inquisitor lets that sink before continuing, "Unfortunately, the local ordos do not share my assessment and would not call for the Deathwatch. My intuition is not enough for them to act. And the Deathwatch would require solid evidence before being deployed."
"Now I require you to investigate a matter that I hope will yield evidence to move Deathwatch to action."
She holds out a data slate for Tocal to take.
"This will tell you where to go."
Kalistrade spoke to Hand. He could understand that she referred to him in her phrasing but it meant little to him.
There was neither good nor evil in him for he had transcended holding the weapon. He now was the weapon. His hands, feet, and breath carried death.
He was like the blade that he carried. It cared not what hand wielded it and it neither desired to bring death nor to prevent death. It was a tool that anyone could wield for good or ill. Yet the sword cared not for either possibility. It was an ocean of empty calm without conflict because it simply did what it was told.
Tocal, man with the shiny weapons that held no trace of blood was selected the leader. It would be he who pointed Hand.
It was simple.
It was good.
It was what the blood called for.
Thinking to himself, "Not only am I forced to work with these people but now I am responsible for them."
"Yes Madame Inquisitor, only death will prevent our success". Tocal says as he takes the tablet and quickly scans the details.
“Squad, gather your gear and let’s move out. The Inquisitor has more to do than have you gawk at her. We have a corruption to trace.
When we are out of the Inquisitors room I will read the tablet in greater detail.
Hand bows again at 20 degrees to the Inquisitor and then follows Tocal out of the room to hear what is required of him.
Atella bows and is just about to leave with the others when she lifts her head, seemingly listening to something. She gasps quietly and takes a stumbling step before turning her head and giving the inquisitor a quick look. She then promptly hastens out of the chamber, leaving the others behind. She can be found some 100meters away in the corridor outside the room, panting and catching her breath.
Augustus licked the inside of his dry mouth as their objective was stated, along with their team leader. He'd seen people like him in the Guard, it was fairly obivous he was a high ranking officer of somekind, which must be why the Inquistor had bought him in.
As for her quite dismissive comment about him dying or being replaced.. well, she was an Inquistor afterall, everyone here was far below her.
But, a great evil, -what- great evil? And the Deathwatch? Was that what they called the destruction of a planet?
Augustus was going to go into the heart of evil with, with, just these 'people' to protect him. A thousand possible horrors paraded behind his eyes and he gave a quick bow to the Inquistor before hurrying out of the chamber after the fleeing Pysker. When he caught her up outside the room he leaned on the wall near her, trying to avoid the urge to throw up.
Simply put, Augustus was very much afraid.
Atella turned to Augustus with a inquisitive look on her face.
"Aren't you witch hunters supposed to be tough? You look paler than me."
She leaned forward a bit and drew a short breath of air, almost as if she tried to sample a smell.. or perhaps something more sinister and warp influenced.
"You have an odd feeling about you... almost... almost like.. beans?"
This is too much for Augustus and he snaps a little, his tone is intense, though he keeps it down wnough so that it won't carry through to the Inquistor's chamber.
"Emperor! I'm not a damned witch hunter!" He draws in a sharp breath. "Yes, beans, bloody beans! I am..was a logistics clerk for the Guard, I dealt with keeping track of their food and supplies which yes, happened to include quite a lot of beans!" He wipes his forehead, managing to get something of a grip on himself.
"I don't know why I'm here, other then the fact she had another clerk who got eaten by those Ork beasts. -He- was meant to join you, not -me-."
Atella chuckles and speaks straight out, as if talking to her self. "For once I was right? Hah! Beans..."
She then turns to Augustus "A clerk? So no witch hunter then?"
"So much for that theory. Where in the Emperors grand space have I seen this little clerk then?
She exhales and straightens a little, waiting for the other two to arrive.
"No, not a witch hunter." Augustus sighs, turning away from the wall to face Atella. He still wasn't comfortable around the pysker, but with everything he'd just learnt, she was only one of several problems and no longer the worst.
"If you're working for them, why did they arrest you on that convey?" He frowns. "Maybe they were just keeping an eye on you.."
"Suppose I was trespassing, and too valuable to kill."
"At least that's what I hope..."
"This is actually my first contact with the inquisition, up until now I've only done advisory kind of work for the guard." Atella shrugs. "Let's hope you can use those weapons you carry clerk, because we'll need it."
"No, no, that's not what I do." Augustus shakes his head firmly, shuddering at the thought of being dragged into a firefight. "That walking weapons locker, he does that sort of thing, I just.. sort out your paperwork, and you do.. whatever it is you do..."
He stops, peering at Atella, then suddenly sighs, torn between despair and amusement and with a faint grin on his face. "Advisor. You're as lost as me, aren't you, -pysker-? You really, really don't want to look to me for your protection."
"Sorting paper? I don't see anything like that on our horizon, you have any other skills?" Atella chuckles.
"I've always been lost, but not like you think, it's something completely different.. I hope we'll be allright, if we face any enemies they are sure to shoot at the killing machines first and leave us for last."
Augustus rubs the back of his neck. "I know how to fire a gun, I'm quite a good pilot and I can find stuff out." He pauses. "So.. we watch each other's back?" The question is tenative and careful, but underneath it Augustus' thoughts churn.
"She may be all nice and friendly now, but don't forget what she is, she's tainted with evil and sooner or later she'll lose control. Remember the stories. Pyskers can serve the Imperium, but they always fall and unleash their witchcraft. I've gotta make her think I'm good with her, that I'm no danger and when she turns against us I need to shoot her down before it's too late.
Emperor, I hope she doesn't know what I'm thinking."
Did these people ever stop talking?
At the temple, you were limited to fifty words a day and usually less if you were being punished for something.
These people would have consumed several days worth of words in a few minutes. It was incredible.
He was glad for the mask. It hid all but his eyes. It was a place of safety in a world of insanity.
What was wrong with hunting? 13, his name before Hand, had loved to hunt. It was one of the most pleasurable of activities that you were allowed at the temple. You, alone in the wilderness, tracking the game and killing it.
Not that he had ever hunted a witch, whatever type of animal that might be. Hand wondered what size of animal was. Since the woman, Atella had thought the man in robes, Augustus, might hunt them, they weren't likely very dangerous or very large. Whatever a witch might be, Hand was pretty sure if Augustus could hunt them then Hand would have no problems hunting down a witch.
It was also clear that Augustus seemed to be in charge of food. Beans were good if they were properly fermented. Hand especially liked Red Beans baked into little cakes. It was a luxury that was only handed out once a month. Too many luxuries spoiled the blood and made it weak. Weak blood needed to be purged.
Since, they were evidently discussing roles and desires of food, Hand felt it was important that he let, Augustus know his own needs.
'Rice. Beans are good but I prefer rice. Please order some rice.'
"Allright Augustus, we'll watch each others backs. You with your gun and me with mine. Atella pats her small las pistol."
Atella nods at Hand when he asks for rice. "Yes, rice would be great. Please order some for me too Augustus." She smirks slyly.
Atella turns towards Hand. "How come you don't wear a gun?"