Author Topic: Altar of Infinite Shadows  (Read 2137 times)

Offline mrstevetic

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Altar of Infinite Shadows
« on: July 10, 2010, 06:08:26 AM »
Okay. A little work I've scripted up about my warband (have an idea for the models just dont have them yet.)
Will add more as I type more. Feedback as always is appreciated.



‘Inquisitor, we’ve been given clearance. We’ll be landing in about ten minutes.’
Inquisitor Verinnia Fawkes glanced up at the Vox Caster in the bay of her transport. Orange light from Feyros’s yellow sun flickered through the small viewing windows set above the passengers seats in the bay, dancing over her pale skin and finely polished gold armour. For one of the few times in her life Inquisitor Fawkes felt somewhat out of control of her situation. As an Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, Fawkes had faced down the Daemon both without and within and had kept her cool.
By throne, she thought, I’ve even ordered the Exterminatus on entire planets and never had this feeling.
It was a simple mission that was what her superior, Lord Cyphus, had said. Go to Althos, a dead world near the Eye of Terror and cleanse it. He hadn’t elaborated much further past that save for when she had gone to prepare her retinue and Inquisitorial Detachment. That was when he handed her the data slate she now held in her hands.
Since when was a cleansing a covert mission to be done with members outside of the Inquisition?? she mused.
For that matter why brief me on it a year before you actually want me to go and perform a cleansing.
She grasped a shard of her old broken force blade and lifted her sub-consciousness to a state of calm. Such doubts clouding her mind wouldn’t do her any good, especially so close to the mission being launched.

Fawkes was rocked back to reality as the transport set down on the orbital landing pad of the Adeptus Arbites 477th Precinct. She slipped on a pair of glare shields as the bay opened, harsh light filling the cold metal interior, as well has the hot dry wind, heavy with the smell of smog. She stepped out onto the pad, purity seals and robes of office fluttering in the wind as she decended down to the cracked concrete concourse, a black clad arbitrator waiting for her. He instinctively held his helmet down in the heavy winds.
‘Inquisitor.’ He greeted waving her forward as he walked towards the precinct proper ‘The Judge is still in session but should be finished shortly. You’re going to have to be quick though, he’ll be heading out on patrol shortly afterwards.’ Fawkes quirked a brow at the officer.
‘Going on patrol? I thought the Arbites Judges were tasked with sentencing over anything else?’
The Arbitrator laughed almost mockingly.
‘Excuse me lady-‘
‘Inquisitor.’ Fawkes Snarled
‘Oh sorry.’ The Arbitrator sneered back ‘Excuse me Inquisitor, but take a look around. Things ain’t exactly peachy around here.’
Fawkes wasn’t sure to make of the Arbitrator’s tone but she wasn’t a fan of it by any means. She thought of perhaps throwing the impertinent worm into the ground with a simple thought, or overloading his feeble mind with the screams of the warp, but a look around made her think otherwise.
The Precinct itself was a warzone, blood dying in the harsh sun on the ground, smouldering remains of guard towers and walls littered the outer perimeter. The Precinct Citadel itself was heavily battered, looking as if it had just been through six straight months of siege. The once imposing black facade scarred heavily by ordinance and rocket fire. Around her servitors droned away making slap dash repairs that would make an Ork cringe at the simplicity and screams came from the Medicae tent that would curdle even a Space Marine’s blood.

Before she could enquire further she was in the hall leading to the main courthouse, door slammed shut beside her. Fawkes shook her head and walked down the marbled halls, pushing through the door ahead of her to find a rabble of chained and shackled unwashed filling the pews usually reserved for high ranking socialites and Imperial officials. At the head of the hall high above the crowd sat the Judge, running a hand through his greying hair, taking a moment’s reprieve before addressing the petrified man being lead into the dock below him.
‘You have been charged with the vandalising and destruction of Imperial Property.’ He bellowed over the ruckus, voice commanding and causing the racket of the mob to quick silence.
‘How Do you plead?’
‘You honour. I simply broke into the service droid to save myself during the-‘ the Judge rubbed his temples for a moment, brow furrowed in frustration before roaring down at the man
‘Regardless of your intentions you have broken a law of the Lex Imperialus! You have been witnessed by local Enforcers defiling the property of the Holy Emperor! How do you plead?!’
‘N-not guilty, your honour.’ The man stammered back.
‘Hmph, they always say that.’ He muttered, waving a finger at the vox-rec unit causing it to strike the aside from the record. ‘The Adeptus Arbites sentences you to 20 years hard labour in the Holy Emperor’s penal Legions. Arbitrator Dalnoth take the man for processing.’ He checked his time-piece and sighed quietly. ‘Court is in recess for one hour and shall be resumed by Judge Kyrall. That is all.’
The judge turned from the court and left via the armoured door at the back of the Judge’s plinth.

Fawkes pushed her way back through the rabble and quickly exited the courtroom, running through the halls to the left well towards the back of the building. She flashed the seal of her office to the pict-skull which opened the lift shield. Fawkes stepped on and hit the symbol for the judge’s offices. The lift rose quickly and as the shield reopened Fawkes strode out quickly. If what the Arbitrator said outside was true she only had a small amount of time in which to recruit the Judge- the last of her pre-determined team given to her by Lord Cyphus. Her stride quickened as she reached his clerk. A young man who was more wet behind the ears than a newborn thrown into the roaring seas of Ithaka.
‘Inquisitor Fawkes to see Judge Denomalous.’ she said matter of factly not stopping at the desk to be rebuked or denied. The clerk could only let out a muffled cry of utter shock before getting on the vox relay to advise his judge as Fawkes pushed open the ornate wooden door ‘An inquisitor wants to see you.’
‘For throne’s sake I don’t have time for this crap! Tell them to come back next cycle!’ Fawkes walked into the tirade of a stressed out man.  Judge Amadeus Denomalous stood with his back to the desk, his standard black uniform of the Adeptus Arbites was strewn over his desk as he fitted red carapace armour to his body.
‘Fething Inquisition.’ He growled, unaware of Fawkes standing in the doorway. ‘They’ve already come through and cleansed what little left I have of my outfit quoting their righteous crap like they run this place.’ He continued to vent to no-one, continuing to strap on his armour before the aide holding a brown leather duster cleared her throat. Denomalous turned and stared her down his face full of frustration and scorn. ‘What?!’ Her eyes flicked to the doorway and Denomalous looked to see the Inquisitor. Hias demeanour changed almost instantly.
‘Vee is that you?’ his body seemed to relax as he looked her over, a smile coming to his lips
 ‘The one and only Armie.’ She smiled back ‘How ya been?’
‘Sleep deprived and overworked- the life of an Arbitrator.’ He took what seemed to be a rare moment to laugh, looked at her and then gazed out the viewing bay to his right. ‘I’d love to play catch up but I’m due out on patrol.’
‘That’ll have to wait I need to speak with you on a matter of rather significant importance.’
That was an understatement. Fawkes thought to herself. Hopefully he’ll pick up on the read.
Denomalous looked at her for a minute and turned to his vox-caster
‘Rookie, is there a senior Provost on rec time at the moment?’ a couple of moments passed before the reply came
‘Sir, Provost Harker is available. And my name is-‘
‘I don’t care what your name is.’ Denomalous shot back ‘How much time has Harker had since last deployment?’
‘Five hours sir.’ Denomalous cursed under his breath.
‘Tell the Provost to suit up and issue him the briefing. He’s got 15 minutes to be on field to lead the patrol. Let him know he’ll have double rations waiting for him should he make it back.’
‘Understood’
‘Oh and rookie, find and fetch my Junior would you? I’ll need her here on the double for a briefing.’
‘Sir.’