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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 12:13:09 GMT -5
Originally posted by InquisitorMaltheus
Maltheus shuddered. His homecoming was bitter sweet. He felt the presence here...but knew he must press on. This daemon would not rest untill Maltheus was dead, or tainted, or gave into the maddening laughter that echoed in his head. His stronghold was not far from here, relatively. It was a day long drive from here and Maltheus was only uncertain about one thing...should he take Finn with him or not. He nearly laughed at himself, of course he would bring Finn. The old man was his best channel to the Daemon. He made the call to the entire ship over the vox-link. "Prepare for transport to Honor's Hold. I need the old man restrained as usual. Stark, I need you at one hundred percent. Report to my quarters, with Finn in half an hour."In her quarters, Stark took in a deep breath. She placed the blade of the knife to the burning eye on her chest and began to cut away. The pain was intense, but she enjoyed the idea of getting rid of that evil symbol. She bandadged her wound and made her way to Finn's cell. Once he was prepared they made their way to Maltheus' chamber. *** Outside a samll crowd began to grow. The Honor's Mark bore all the marks of the Inquisition, and it was not often an Imperial vesel landed on this planet, let alone one carrying a member of His holy Inquisition. There was however, a strange din to the crowd. As they gathered, a wierd and terrible energy began to move through them, stirring them. Half the time they didn't know if they were happy to see the arrival of this ship, or if they wanted to tear it appart. And from somewhere nearby, a green light glowed. The weak Mind is the gate to Chaos.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 26, 2004 5:58:15 GMT -5
Originally posted by Mentirius
Maltheus felt the energies of the crowd outside. His stomach churned at the forced confusion and anger they were begining to feel. He knew there was possibly a large fight on his hands just ouside the safety of the Honor's Mark. He also knew he had to get the volume of the Lost into his stroghold. He told stark to get her patroll car and load the team.
"Prepare for the worst," he instructed her. "This won't be easy. Those people are guilty of nothing but possesing weak minds."
They all loaded into the truck and Stark pointed the patroll car to the doors. Maltheus took in a deep breath. The cargo bay doors slowly began to open and Maltheus could see the tide of people swelling outside, a green light cast about them.
The weak Mind is the gate to Chaos.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 26, 2004 6:07:26 GMT -5
Originally posted by Mentirius
Somewhere amongst the faceless masses, they watched. The agents of the true god, the chosen of the Eye. Their voices whispered in the minds of those around them, the truth of their words infesting the thoughts of these people. As the doors opened, revealing the armoured patrol car, a sickly green light played about the crowd, and it was reflected in their eyes. Eyes filled with hatred glared at the faceless machine. And slowly, the people parted.
Stark took the patrol car forward slowly, easing through the gap that was opening for them. Yard by yard, looking out at the hatred that was almost palpable. Then she stopped. A clear avenue had been cleared. But at the other end of the passage, stood a single figure.
The figure wore brown robes, and a deep cowl hid its face. But as Stark stared at it and slowly began to move the patrol car forward, eyes deep within that hood found her gaze. Those eyes glowed green, and she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest. Glancing down in horror, she saw a familiar green light seeping through the bandage she had used to dress her wound. The figure raised a single, gloved hand.
Stark revved the engine, and hurtled forward at full speed, directly at the robed figure. But time suddenly seemed to slow, and as the hand fell, the patrol car hit an invisible wall, and rebounded backwards with a jolt. The crowd charged, filling the gap and losing the figure in their midst. Swamping the vehicle, they clambered onto it, hammering on the chassis with ineffectual rage. And a green light glowed in their eyes...
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 26, 2004 6:08:57 GMT -5
Originally posted by InquisitorMaltheus
The patrol car rocked as it landed upside down on the ground. Maltheus and Stark were thrown from thier seats and tumbled into a pile. Finn, who was restrained to the seat, hung slightly above them and smiled down at thier spwaled figures. The Inquisitor forced himself upright. He kicked the door open and put his hand up. Using his psychic impel, he forced an area clear around the patroll car. He rolled out and Pulled out his custom twin barrelled bolt pistol. He hesitated opening fire on the innocent citizens, they did nothing wrong but possess weak minds. Stark, having grabbed Finn, rolled into the crowd. She threw the old man into Maltheus' arms. Maltheus watched in dark awe as Stark seemed to move faster than time itself. She placed every shot with lethal accuracy and danced a grim dance of death through the crowd. She left a wake of death and destruction behind her. Maltheus pushed the feeling of dread from his mind and followed his bodyguard through the crowd. Moments later, they found themselves far from the crowd. They were safe and could hear the distant screams of pain in the distance. Ahead of them was the edge of the city. The same city Maltheus walked as a young boy. It had changed much in the time since he had left. He looked at Stark. She walked a pace ahead of them and he could see her chest heave with deep breaths. He wanted to question her, but thought another time would be better. She waved down a land car and leaned into the window. Moments later the driver stepped out and she motioned for Maltheus and Finn to join her. *** The entrance to Honor's Hold was nondescript. It lay within one of the abbandoned factories that peppered the city. Maltheus had made his personal sanctuary here some ten years ago, and this was one of the first trips back since. He breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the inner chamber. It was safe here. Anti-chaos icons lined the walls and retaining litanies were written around every entrance. Stark found a seat in a dark corner and curled herself up on a large chair. Finn sat facing a wall and talked to a spider that climbed slowly toward his face. Maltheus took a place at one of his desks and pulled out the book they had taken from the Library of the Lost. He set it in front of him and opened it. The key to his and the rest of his team's salvation rested somwhere in these dusty pages.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 26, 2004 6:11:19 GMT -5
Originally posted by InquisitorMaltheus
Maltheus pushed himself away from the Comm-screen. He had completed the message and hoped it would be recieved well. He turned as Stark stirred in the corner. It had been nearly a week. He labored endlessley over the volume of the Lost and finaly, he thought he found a lead. Stark stood and walked over to him. She spent a lot of time sleeping lately. Finn layed curled up on the floor. His 'episodes' all but stopped since he entered Honor's Hold.
"You are not nose deep in that book," Stark noticed, as she approached him. "You sent a message," she looked at the comm-screen.
"I believe I have found a man that can help. If he actually exists. These twisted volumes tend to be filled with misguided untruths and half lies," Maltheus explained.
Stark peered into the book. She saw markings next to the name 'Mentirius.' She also saw phrases circled. Phrases such as 'there is no death,' 'succumb to the lord of change,' and 'flies in a web.'
"How?" she began.
"I researched, and found a man that may be the same Mentirius mentioned in this book," Maltheus explained. "While trying to determine his current location, I uncovered a transmition from the man himself. After some work I was able to decrypt the message. It seems we may have a new ally in this fight, if my message is well recieved."
Maltheus went back to the book. He still needed to find the weakness that Finn spoke of.
"And if it is well recieved?" she asked. "Then what?"
"Then," Maltheus looked into her eyes, "there is War."
Inquisitor Maltheus, Formerly Ordo Xenos The Vengance of Braxus
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