The Conclave

The Ordos Majoris - Roleplay => In Character => Topic started by: Nate on September 30, 2009, 06:03:25 PM

Title: Extracts from the journal of Nathaniel Monroe
Post by: Nate on September 30, 2009, 06:03:25 PM
The sceaming wouldn't stop. A mixture both of human and less human, it pounded on his mind and body, seeming to swell up in a sea around him. A hand reached across and shook his arm, he opened his eyes and looked around to see the the blonde girl standing there, her lasgun held loosely at her side, a thin smile on her lips.
'Come on, we're pushing them back. Keep in there soldier'
He stood up, muttering some excuse. The light from the muzzle flashes played accross the brass and silver armour he was wearing, showed the faces of his men and the gold and blue armoured figures of the traitor astartes. Somewhere behind him he heard the distinctive noise of a plasma gun discharging its leathal energies, and was gratified to see a traitor marine fall in a shower of blue sparks. Bolter fire was sent back the way of the guardsmen, injuring several and killing an unknown soldier 3 people to his right.
'Hold the line! Push them back to where they came from. Give them fire!' He screamed at the top of his voice. A cheer met him from the resolute defenders, and they slowly began to advance through the unnatural darkness towards the enemy's line, firing into the gradually retreating pack as they did so. Several more marines fell to focused plasma and las fire, but were matched be equal casulties from the defenders.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, 2 armoured figures lept at him, wicked smilse etched on their unmasked faces. The first landed close enough to punch him, the second just out of range, leaning on a staff and whispering faintly dark words he did not recognise. He quickly drew his power sword, just in time to parry the thrust of the nearest Thousand Son marine, deflecting it away from him. The futher marine held out his hand, pointing at a guardsmen in the front rank, who instantly screamed as he erupted into blue flames, before crumbling to the floor. The soldier to his left was consumed by the fire too, falling to the ground and rolling, desperate to put the flames out.

Momentarily distracted by this he failed to block the marine's blow, which caught him square in the chest, throwing him from the ridge. He fell, skidding as he tried to regain he stance, into the mass of dead and dying bodies below. He looked up to see the Marine he was dueling with jump down again, only just managing to get out of the way as it slammed into the ground where his head was seconds ago. Thrusting up, his powersword sliced through the Marine's groin and up into its abdomen, not enough to kill it but merely enraging it further.a shot from behind it caught it on its shoulder pad, it turned to see this new threat, giving him time to slice at its knee, bringing it crashing to the ground. Scrambling to his feet again, he kicked it heavily in its unmasked head. The blonde girl, who he now realised had fired the round, hurried to his side, firing round after round into its now bloodied face. Satisfied it was now dead, he turned to her, intending a brief smile and a nod of thanks and congratulations. He never got a chance, however, as he saw the second marine out of the corner of his eye, pointing at the girl and whispering again. A look of terror and pain passed accross her face, before she became suddenly expressionless, and vanished into whatever horrors awaited her in the warp. The sorcerer grinned again, turning his focus to him and began to whisper. Screaming his anger, he charged at him, and was thrown bodily back to the ground. The heavy boots of the marine echoed as it walked towards him, he tried to move, to reach his sword, but couldn't. He settled on screaming his rage at the sorceror, waiting for the inevitable death to occur, waiting to be reunited with the girl.
'You wish to die, fool?' The sorcerer sneered down at him. 'This pain you feel will not end. You will carry it al.....

Nathaniel awoke sharply. There were no screams, no blood on the ground, no power armoured monstrosities near him, the blonde girl was sat by the window, watching the street below, her long rifle resting against her shoulder.
He blinked. It wasn't the blonde girl at all. Not the right one, at any rate. Theya Martell turned to him, her face as devoid of expression as it had been when he'd met her weeks before.
'Who was she?'
'Who was whom?' He replied, trying to sound casual. He looked around, and saw one of the twins scurry back into the shadows.
'You keep your thoughts hidden, but nobody can hide their dreams.' Martell returned her gaze to the street. 'So, who was she?'
'I don't know.' Nathaniel cursed under his breath. 'I can't remember anything about that, or anything that happens after. I always wake up.'
'You were dressed like a general, and equiped like one too.' He could see a smile dance across her face in the reflection of the window. 'And you kicked a Chaos Marine in the head, you weren't lying about that.'
'I'm no general, I've told you who I am.'
'No longer perhaps. Now you're an agent for an ailing Inquisitor, who lives in a library in an asteroid.' Nathaniel cursed the Twin sculking in the shadows, and all psychics generally, to which Martell turned back to him. 'I know of Inquisitor Sirrap. My old mentor wasn't a huge fan of his works.'
'Your old mentor, Inquisitor Pius Wood?'
'Yes. He's now dead, but you already knew that. Regardless, I have no issue with Sirrap or his methods. In the short term, at least, our goals seem...compatible. Or at the very least not opposed.'
'Oh, so I get to live then?' Nathaniel tried to put as much scorn into this as possible.
'Indeed. There's not alot I can do to affect that, I'm afraid. I wont, however, get the Twins to strip your mind of every ounce of humanity that nightmare hasn't already ripped apart.'
Ignoring his sarcasm, Marcell flicked idly at an insect that had settled on the muzzle blade of her rifle. She appeared deep in thought for a few moments. She turned away from him again, looking directly at the Twin who had penetrated Nathaniel's mind only minutes before. He realised that they were running through the dream again.
'You, I assume its you at any rate, there's no real proof they're your memories, were wearing the armour of the 61st PDF of Myrkle. There was heavy fighting with Thousand Sons traitor marines there nearly 400 years ago.'
'Indeed?' He tried to maintain the sarcasm, but the hint of interest was hard to hide in his voice.
'Indeed. There was a battle on a ridge outside one of the main Hives on the planet. It was the turning point, from what I can remember- or rather what the Twin can remember. The general during that battle was lost, presumed dead. His martyrdom spurred his troops on, eventually they drove the traitor astartes from their world.'
'What was the general's name?'
'Not Nathaniel Monroe.' She smiled. 'Hardly surprising. I wasn't born with this name, and I very much doubt I'll die with it either. So many of us do.'
'Have the Twins found out what your name was?'
'No. They say my mind scares them, apparently I never left the jungles of Taura Major. Oh, yes, I'll be honest with you. I'm under no delusions that you didn't thoroughly research me when Sirrap gave you the assignment.'
'I did, I'm just surprised you're so willing to discuss it.'
'Discuss it? I merely mentioned it.' She gripped her rifle and stood up, resting it in her hands almost lovingly. 'The governor's envoy is coming. I doubt he's alone, ready yourself.'
Title: Re: Extracts from the journal of Nathaniel Monroe
Post by: Nate on October 01, 2009, 02:07:10 PM
Nathaniel slipped silently down the stairs of the ruined building, gripping his sword tightly by his side, thoughts about his recent conversation with Martell running loose through his mind. He shuddred, and tried to steady his thoughts. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted at this stage. Especially not by a heretic like Martell most definately was, by all rights he should turn on his heel, hurry back into the room above and put several stubber rounds into the back of her head.

Then Why Don't You?

He couldn't, simply, he needed..... He suddenly realised that the thought hadn't been his, it had felt as if someone had spoken inside his head, the voice had a strage echo to it, as if spoken by a choir.


We Are Here

Get out!

The Captain Has Found That We Add A Tactical Element To The Fight. She Can See Everything You See, Useful As She Is Offering Covering Fire.
The Captain? Oh, Martell.


Can I see what she sees?

If You Wish.

Nathaniel suddenly became aware, as if it was imprinted on his head, of everything Martell could see through the scope of her rifle. He saw the envoy, a fat, balding man scurrying nervously down the dark street, approaching a kill range with every step he took. He was aware of suble changes in the shadows behind him, suggesting that several men were doing their best to remain hidden in the darkness, no doubt heavily armed and prepared to defend the envoy with their lives. He could hear the gentle rustling of Martell's lomg coat, as she settled into a more comfortable firing position. He could feel the weight of the rifle, feel its long blades as they rested against the stoney window ledge, hear the subtlest whispers that he realised were Martell's thoughts....

We Advise Caution.

...He ignored the twins advice, and tried to catch the subtlest whispers of thought and memory...

You Were Warned.

...and caught them. Panic, fear and anger overwhelmed him. The smell of the jungle, the reek of blood and burning flesh, the sight of alien monstrosities ripping through the undergrowth murderous intent written upon their savage eyes....
Nathaniel snapped out of it, stumbling on the uneven ground below his feet.

You Were Warned. We Dare Not Tread In Her Mind, We Suggest You Do Not Either.

Can she read mine?

Perhaps, If You Were To Let Her. We Advise You Do Not, However. Your Thoughts With Regards To Her Are Less Than Ordered.

And her thoughts towards me?

We Do Not Know, We Do Not Enquire.

Of course, I forgot.

Indeed. Ready Your Thoughts, Things Are About To Begin.

Sure enough, a shot echoed through the alleyway, the noise very distinctively alien compared to any Imperial weapon. Seeing again through Martell's eyes, Nathaniel saw a splatter of blood from behind some crates, and knew the round had found its mark, snuffing out some trooper's life.
He hurried to the door of the building, hearing round after round being returned at the window Martell had fired from. None had found their mark, being fired from far too far away with no real target to aim at. Another round was fired from the Kroot Rifle, this time shattering the envoy's knee, he fell, unconscious from the pain. Taking this as his cue, Nathaniel ran out into the street, firing blindly in the direction of the returning gun shots. A Lasround found its mark on his shoulder, the pain was blinding for a split second, then faded as his burnt flesh knitted itself back together.
'Goddamnit, I liked this coat!' He screamed, firing a round in the direction of attacker, missing completely but causing the hooded man to dive out of danger, but into clear sight of Martell's rifle. The round punctured straight through his chest, causing a horrific exit wound. Nathaniel couldn't work out if he was dead or simply unconscious, and didn't overly care. Grabbing the envoys shoulders he began to drag him back towards the house, ignoring the rounds flying past him and the occasional blinding surge of pain as one found its mark.


He decided to take it on faith, and threw himself to the ground. He heard a round whistle over his head, a scream from only feet behind him and a heavy thump. Looking round, he saw the bleeding body of a trooper, his chainsword still gripped in his hand.
On an impuse he scurried over to the man, prising the wickedly thrumming sword from his hand and deactivated it, holding it under his arm he returned to his job of dragging the envoy's considerably bulk back towards the house...

Tell the Captain that I've spent 4 days in that squalid little ruin, and this fat idiot had better be worth it.

She Knows.

Finally reaching the doorway, he pulled the Envoy inside, slapping the door behind him. Smashing a window beside the door, he drew his stubber and proceeded to fire again into the street, managing to score a solid hit on a trooper hiding behind a pile of refuse, heavily pinned by the persistantly accurate fire from Martell's rifle.
Title: Re: Extracts from the journal of Nathaniel Monroe
Post by: Nate on October 02, 2009, 06:48:52 PM
Nathaniel fought back the urge to throw up, the cool breeze whistling through the underhive doing nothing to remove the stench of burning flesh still in his nostrils, the sounds of machinery not disturbing  the horrific silence of the whole affair, and Martell's words ringing in his ears.

In his many years of working for the Inquisition he had witnessed a great many tortures, seen people torn apart and screaming whatever answers they believed the torturer wanted to hear. It never failed to turn his stomach, however, and Martell's calm, emotionless efficiency with her knives had been deeply unsettling. The complete lack of questioning, the fact that the envoy didn't scream, even when Martell eventually let his life slip away and the staring, unblinking faces of the Twins as they probed, scanned and violated the man's psyche added to the horror of the whole scene.

Martell had explained, in a hushed whisper, that the envoy had extremely strong mental barriers that the Twins could not bypass, and the pain from the torture was needed to distract him, to allow the Twins to break through.

This hadn't made him feel any better.

After the last drop of life had fallen from the ruined corpse of the envoy, he had asked her what his final thoughts were.

She had told him that his last thoughts were for his family, for his dying wife and children. She had said this with relish, almost a sneer at the man's weakness.

Nathaniel had reacted without truly thinking it through, on a spur of rage he had lunged at Martell, ripping his newly acquired chainsword from his belt as he did so.
Halfway through he realised what a mistake it was, and that he'd grossly underestimated the speed and skill of the rogue inquisitorial acolyte. Before he was half way through his action he'd been disarmed, and the butt of her alien rifle had made contact with his right temple. There had been a sickeningly familiar crunch as his skull fractured under the blow, and he was unconscious before he hit the floor.

He'd come round 20 standard minutes later. Through his splitting headache he could see that the corpse had been removed, and that Martell was standing over him. Surprised to find that he wasn't bound, he made to stand up. Before he could do so, she began to speak.

'Don't get up yet, you're probably concussed, assuming you can be. His final thoughts were not of his family, he doesn't have one. His final ordered thoughts were spent resisting the Twins, trying to protect the sordid secrets of the administration.'
'Then why did you tell me...'
'That he died thinking of loved ones? It was a test. Of your humanity. If you had ignored it, taken my calousness as acceptable, even in this age, then my opinion and respect for you would change. You passed my test with distinction, and I believe you could've actually struck me if I wasn't expecting it.'
'It still seems a little heartless.'
'Yes. Entirely.' She looked down at him, then offered a hand to help him up. 'But It had to be done. I need to know who stands by my side in a fight.'
'Was it worth it?'
'The information we got was immeasurably valuble, I will explain later. Now is not the time for plans or schemes. That time will come soon, but not now. I suggest you get some fresh air, or what passes for it in this slum.'
Title: Re: Extracts from the journal of Nathaniel Monroe
Post by: Nate on October 06, 2009, 01:05:07 AM
The firelight spat a thin, ragedly light throughout the room, illuminating 2 figures, huddled as near to the warmth as they can, visable against the darkness beyond. One of them curled asleep, the other absent mindedly running a rag along the recently sharpened edge of her rifle's blade, observing with a distracted satisfaction how cleanly the fabric was sliced into 2 equal halves.

'He is asleep. We shall now talk.'

She put down the rag before turning to the Twins, who had silently slipped, hand in hand, to her side from the shadows. She was always surprised to hear them speak, as their voices were surreally childlike, a harsh contrast to the events of the day.

'Is he having the same dream?'
'The Same. He always dreams the same.'
'Keep an eye on him, I want him safe. Can you keep his mind clear?'
'We can try. Can we ask why? The request is unusual.'
'He fought well today, and was far more moral than I expected from an agent of the Inquisition. At the very least I think he's earnt a decent nights sleep. Go, do your best, and then get some sleep yourself.'

The Twins bowed and stepped back into the shadows, away from Martell and Nathaniel. Martell turned back to sharpening, her mind racing.

After a few minutes she caved into the temptation gnawing at her, placed her rifle by her side once again and reached for her comlink.

'Jonquil, this is Martell, respond.'
'Martell, this is Jonquil. More specifically this is Gaius Keynes, and I've been waiting for you to remember us.'
'I'd not forgotten, ambassador. What is your situation?'
'Stealth generators are holding firm, we're far from local shipping, and I'm bored.'
'Go hunt some rats. I need some information.'
'I thought as much, and rats are nowhere near as fun as cultists and corrupt officials.'
'Perhaps not, but regardless, I need you on the ship. I need you to give me as much information as you can on the 61st PDF of Myrkle, specifically the Martyr General from Fawkes' Ridge.'
'Very well, if thats all you need. I assume your access password hasn't changed?'
'Its still Regan. Transmit all information directly to my eye.'
'Already on its way.'
'Good. Keep the line open, I may need more.'

She settled back and closed her eye, deactivating the visual input from her bionic with a subconscious thought. The information, transmitted directly into her visual cortex, played out a series of moving images and text, like a bizarre newspaper of glowing letters in her mind. She saw the general, Lucius Acilius Hobbes, resplendant in magnificent silver and brass armour, standing proudly in glorious sunlight. The advanced Tau technology in her implant was quick to analyse the moving picture and point out where the sunlight had been added and edited for a better visual effect, but she quickly dismissed them, as they were a distracting. She then opened her eyes and looked down at Nathaniel, who had started to snore slightly, and compared the 2 men visually.

Their jawline was not too dissimilar, but the noses were completely different. A lifetime of service in the PDF had broken Lucius' several times, and it had obviously never set properly. Nathaniels, however, was unbroken and straight. The eyes too, were similar, but the brow ridges were extensively different. Lucius' white hair was clipped short with a military efficiency, and she couldn't imagine such a man growing his hair long and dreading it, as Nathaniel seemed to have done. The final telling factor, however, was the age. The general looked to be in his late 50's body age, where as Nathaniel's unique biology had stopped him looking a day over 28.

'Was that enough for you captain? Answered your questions?'
'What?' The sound in her ear snapped her out of her focus. 'No, I'm going to need his full file record. Also cross reference him to Sorus Beta.'
'I'm on it now. Sorus Beta...thats a familiar name to me.'
'It's where Nate claims to be from, what do you know of it?'
Martell quickly dismissed the embarassment from her voice. 'It's what he insists on being called. I believe its a sign of mutual trust.'
'Hmpf, I never got called Gaius. Anyway, Sorus Beta is a small moon orbiting a Gas Giant, Sorus. Its a vibrant trading hub for all the local systems, as its always remained neutral in local skirmishes and disputes. I helped with that, I would like to add.'
'I'm sure you did. Would one of those local systems happen to be Myrkle?'
'It might have been. Right part of space, definately.'
'Look it up.'
'I'll get on it right away.'
'Good. Once you have more information contact me again. Martell out.'