Penny

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Clara and I had discussed this earlier when I had been drawing small arms from the armory, though I could have done without the epithet. I nodded my approval. If we were going to a feral world where the locals stuck bone through their noses and worshiped the sun as the Emperor we would either need blades or bullets in considerable quantity. Plus Clara had been sidelined since the death of her previous master spending her time at Agesola training and bringing other agents up to speed. She was bored with training and wanted to get out into the field. I personally didn't understand the drive and would have been more than happy to live a life of quiet luxury, but I could appreciate that milage varied. Hadrian measured Clara with his eyes for a few moments and then nodded. A considerable degree of tension seemed to go out of the arms master now she knew she wouldn't be left behind.

"Now that we know where we are going, and who is going, perhaps we should address how you are going to get there?" Demetrius suggested. It was a fair question, Hadrian traditionally operated with the Caledonia which was much to distant to be of service in this occasion. Some inquisitors maintained a full time ship, but such craft were alway obvious. Pacitus also hosted a small naval base that served a squadron of destroyers but a random navy ship showing up on Havenos would be as obvious as an Inquisitorial vessel.

"What little intel we have suggest Nagrip spent a few months on Kamden before transiting to Havenos," Hadrian said. "Kamden serves as a processing center for a number of feral and semi-feral worlds in the region and the navy is not unknown there. In the interest of speed we will transit on a destroyer, the Prelate Voss, and tranship to a local trader once we reach orbit. Potentially we can gather some leads while we are there."

"So we are going to be incognito?" I asked, voicing the obvious question from the table. Hadrian grinned slightly.

"Yes we will be, our cover will be as big game hunters. That will let us bring weapons and gear and explain our presence on Havenos," Hadrian explained.

"And Emma will be your fancy girl?" Clara asked. Hadrian's smile broadened.

"As luck would have it, the Ordos recently detained a female big game hunter by the name of Amaletta Sark on suspicion of smuggling. She even happens to be blonde."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

We spent the evening and most of the next day packing. A storm had blown in during the night which made it impractical to fly out to Quintin that night. Hadrian was eager to get started but grudgingly admitted that a few hours either way was unlikely to make a difference on a lead already months old. Trasic was roused from his lo induced stupor and astropathic messages were sent out to various allies including Urien, though last word we had put him several months away from Pacitus.

My own belongings had expanded considerably with leisure to shop and with expert advice from Clara. I had my wardrobe, which by this point included several armored body gloves, dresses in a variety of styles and a number of firearms. I also had a short bladed sword and a pair of fine daggers, though even with training I was still little more than average with them. Even out here pyscometric material was hard to come by and while I had forged (or commissioned Lazarus to forge) a force staff off my own, I had not yet found an appropriate focus for it. I had no doubt that Urien and his crew would shake their heads in disgust at my considerably increased cargo requirements. I had the servitors crate it up and transport it down to the docks for transshipment to the capital where lighters could ferry it to whatever orbital conveyance we were able to scare up.

I knew little of Samara Bandir or Havenos, Hadrian had a number of cases that he was working. Mostly threads he had uncovered while chasing Bahometus that had turned out to be unrelated or tangential. All of them had gone deep underground after even fleeting contact with the Ordos, but it was the nature of such infection to re-emerge. Nagrip was, according to the limited information the Ordos had, a minor warp dabbler, though there were questions as to how he had escaped off world and managed to vanish for so long, despite Hadrian having tasked local arbites and system defense personnel to prevent it. If he had been able to take down a bounty hunter of Samara Bandir's caliber, well that was another reason for Hadrian to sit up and take note.

Hadrian arranged for a farewell dinner with some members of the staff, intending to act as a briefing and to provide instruction during his absence. He probably meant it to be a simple working affair, but the servants took the opportunity to go all out, producing a lavish feast complete with custom invitation cards. I showed up early. It wasn't exactly a secret that Hadrian and I were involved but nor could our relationship technically be official. I was the lady of the house, but not the Lady of the House and I did my best to live up to peoples confused expectations of what that entailed.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Chapter 2

We had been on Pacitus for nearly six months when the messenger arrived. When Hadrian had told me he had a home there, I had imagined a townhouse, or perhaps a series of grand appartments in a hive. Agesola House was far beyond that. Nestled on a hilly bluff that overlooked the sparkling Amaranthine Sea it was formed by a series of terracotta tiled buildings connected by covered porticos and interspaced with carefully tended gardens. The weather on the Sarnis Peninsula was warm, though I was told that gales occasionally blew in in the winter months that could lash the place with cold rain and, occasionally, sleet. Agesola had a main house, a guest house and a library building, as well as a covered amphitheater that served as as a training field and target range. There was a ring of stables and outbuildings including a hanger in which several speeders and aircraft were secured and a barracks for servants. On the landward side the grounds fell down in a series of terraces which contained ploin trees, olives, figs, and a sour type of seedpod which was much prized in local cooking. At the base of the hill stood a fence of warm stone which marked a perimeter. As a physical barrier it lacked authority, but it was set with sensors and auspex receptors that made crossing it without notice all but impossible. Beyond the fence stretched several hundred square kilometers of forest, in which game of all sorts could be found. The nearest human settlement was the Universitariat of Sycathrace, a hundred kilometers away on the far coast of the peninsula. It could be reached by a winding track through the forest, though aircraft or taking a boat around the point was a much more practical option.

Hadrian told me that, though tastes varied, most Inquisitors maintained such a property as a safe place to rest and recuperate between operations. It seemed a lot of luxury to me, though as I was to learn, Ordo work meant years or decades would pass between visits. I found that swimming in the clear lilac waters and walking through the gardens were a balm to my spirit. The hours I spent in training with small arms and psychic disciplines less so. I also learned a deal about the structure of the Imperial Inquisition. Hadrian considered himself a Monodominant and I didn't disagree, I was yet too knew to the whole business to consider my own philosophy. By his authority I was granted the rank of Adept and presented with a rosette of my own, though plain and lacking in the rank insignia that Hadrian had earned. It was the only rank that I could hold within the Inquisition. As an unsanctioned psyker I couldn't become an Interrogator as this required approval from the Ordos themselves. Approval which wouldn't be forth coming unless I was granted a Sanction, which meant assay and transport on the Black Ships. I think it bothered Hadrian more than it did me, I didn't have ambitions in that direction.

I spent hours at psychic exercise too, absorbing what Hadrian could teach me in long sessions in the amphitheater. The psychic connection I had forged with the soldiers back on the Necron world seemed to have been broken by our voyage through the Immaterium, though I occasionally awoke from dreams of standing picket duty or with the taste of counterseptic in my mouth. My real work, if you could call it that, was with Lucius Raj. We spent hours together going through psychic communions. My impression of the Emperor as only a man grew stronger, though my certainty that he was a remarkable one went someway to allying the existential dread that caused me. Perhaps it was possible for a 'mere' man to ascend to Godhood. If Keeler and others who had known him felt he was divine, I could keep my own skepticism at bay. The contents of our sessions was recorded and passed to Hadrian who, I assume, passed it on to his own superiors in the Ordos.

Hadrian was not home bound while at Agesola. He took me to Primogena, the capital, a two hour trip by aircar and we spent pleasant evening at the theatre or enjoying the museums and restaurants. He had a cover identity as a local landowner with no reference to his official station and we blended in easily enough. We also visited the Universitariat and its surrounding town, which was a charming place with many book shops, eateries, antique dealers and other pleasant diversions.

When I wasn't otherwise occupied I spent time in the library. Hadrian's library was well stocked and I supplemented it liberally from our trips to the city and universitariat. I had little in terms of formal education and it was very patchy, largely focused on blending in to the semi-legitimate underside of the Imperial aristocracy. These months gave me a chance to read broadly, especially in history, which was brought to life to me by details provided by Raj. I started to keep my own journals, of which this writing is a one. Hadrian had a number of works of psykana lore also, some of which were proscribed. I read these eagerly. Most of my craft I had learned by instruction or by trial and error. Some of the works were restricted to members of the inquisition in a void shielded vault in the basement of the library. Hadrian allowed me to read some of these, though only with his supervision. He politely but firmly refused to grant me unfettered access. Although I spent weeks searching the library, I was unable to find any mention of anything called the Cognitae.

I was returning from a swim one warm afternoon, climbing the gentle curving stairs from the beach to the main house, when an unfamiliar flyer circled over head and landed. I didn't take it as unusual until I reached the patio where Hadrian and I took our meals in fine weather. Hadrian was in the process of signing a slate and taking a cylinder from a man in the livery of one of the private Astropathic guilds in Primogena. It struck me as strange that our own astropath, a pimply faced apprentice who went by Trasic, had not received it directly. Hadrian nodded and the courier hurried off, presumabley heading back to his flyer. I strolled up, draping my towel over my shoulders like a ladies shawl, a white contrast to my dark blue one piece bathing suit.

"Is it a dinner invitation or something?" I asked as he cracked open the wax sealed cylinder.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The Inquisitors seemed appropriately awestruck by the sight of the Thunder Warrior. There was a quiver of something like existential awe in the air. I remembered the glimpses I had gotten into Lucius' mind when I had been trying to convince him we were on the same side. The Thunder Warrior showed no sign of being intimidated by his august audience.

"What is to be done with him?" Reichgleib asked. "He may possess much knowledge that is useful... or dangerous."

Lucius Raj made a vocalization that sounded like a growl and took a step towards the Inquisitors. Men reached for weapons under the threat of the big warriors approach. I knew exactly the sort of thing they were afraid of. I had seen it. But Lucius had saved my life. I couldn't just let them drag him off to some facility for dissection.

"Sirs if I may," I interjected. Hadrian gave me a warning look but didn't interfere.

"During the rescue of this great warrior, I touched his mind. He was confused and beset by towering rage. I don't know if it is a natural condition or a consequence of the xenos techno sorcery, but he remembers little," I told them. I could see this had not yet convinced them.

"With proper psy-investigation it may be possible to reconstruct much. He should be taken to conclave," Reichgleib stated.

"Speak as though I am not here again, and it will go poorly for you," Lucius rumbled.

"Psy-investigation wont work," I lied confidently, "the rage and instability of Thunder Warriors is well known." I hadn't known anything about it of course.

"Mental collapse is a likely result of any invasive psy probing," I assured them. All three inquisitors were looking at me with some skepticism, though I hoped in Hadrian's case this was a front.

"What do you suggest Adept, seeing you are apparently an expert in these matters?" Reichgleib pressed. I was an expert in my way, but I didn't think this was a good time to get caught up on the specifics of my experience.

"Allow him to continue in the company of Inquisitor Drakos," I suggested, "time and routine may allow for mental reconstruction and stabilization. Debriefing over a longer period may furnish more information than an intense round of psi-probing." I cleared my throat.

"Also keeping him mobile will prevent any... factional considerations from taking hold," I said obtusely. All the Inquisitor's faces blanked in a studied neutral. Hadrian had told me only a little of the factionalism in the inquisition. I felt sure all of them felt I had just made a pronouncement of deep import, perhaps even a profession to a faction of my own, though I had no clue about where such loyalties and politics even began.

"Perhaps she is not without some merit," Reichgleib grunted. "What say you Amator? There are three of us, a quorum to decide this matter."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The fleet action continued for another three hours before the rising pyramid ships forced an Imperial withdrawal. Forty two of the odd metal vessels had been smashed to the ground by concentrated lance fire, but a combination of orbital mechanics and the shear number of enemy ships conspired against them. Three of the ships were able to make orbit and once they reached the heavens they opened fire. The greenish beam weapons they mounted swatted one of the Imperial destroyers with concentrated fire. The first salvo blew out its void shields and gouged deep wounds in her flank. A concerted Imperial torpedo salvo provided just enough cover to allow the crippled ship to escape into the Immaterium. That done, the fleet withdrew to the edge of the system. The pyramid ships did not pursue, instead they vanished, though our astropaths detected no entry into the Empyrean.

All the Inquisitorial teams had suffered heavy losses, it was a miracle none of the primaries had been killed. Barnabus Amator, the one man who might have had some insight into the strange xenos, was the only surviving member of his party. A partial gauss rifle hit had stripped most of his right arm away, though he still managed to reach the extraction site under his own power. He was a mass of blood and wounds, and while it was hard to credit he would survive, the medicae predicted a full recovery.

Our own party was decimated, and even those who survived were wounded. I was psy-shocked and my hand was burned, though a slop of counterseptic and pain suppressant gel and some skin sealant had taken care of the worst of it. I could feel my surviving seven troopers. None of them had said anything to me about the haptic meld I had accidentally inflicted. I could tell they were a combination of afraid and euphoric. I had to agree with them. I still hadn't found a way to close down the link, I was starting to worry that there wasn't a way to do it. I calmed them with a thought, sending out a sense of confidence that was entirely manufactured. I was an untrained psyker and I had made a mistake. If the Inquisition found out about it, they were likely to take a very dim view. Perhaps an unsurvivable bad view. I decided not to bother Hadrian with the matter.

"Elements of Battlefleet Hyros are enroute," a naval lieutenant was tell Hadrian as she entered the debriefing room.

"Admiral Triton indicates he plans sustained orbital bombardment against the downed ships and and any surviving ground targets. He anticipates arrival withing seven sidereal days, and a conclusion of operations withing nine." The Lieutenant reported, then saluted and withdrew.

"How are you feeling?" I asked looking over his wounds.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Bahometus was growing desperate now, smashing fragments of my mind with increasing speed, almost as fast as I could flake them off the core geode like center of my psyche. Emmaline-Who-Is-Prone-To-Panic was growing increasingly loud in the corner of my mind, as palaces of gold were smashed to powder and forests of gleaming emerald trees obliterated in ugly purple firestorms.

"How can you resist!?" Bahometus roared in my mind, his figure swelling with each victory until he reached to the imagined sky like some horrible titan. I clamped down hard to prevent Emmaline-Who-Makes-Wise-Ass-Remarks from interjecting something that would doubtlessly cost me several more fragments of my mind. Bahometus' elephant sized eyes bored down on my from the mind-sky and then a smile slowly crossed his face.

"You seek only to delay me until that cur reaches me, clever for an untrained witch," he pondered. Suddenly he held a great goat headed staff in his hands, nauseating energies crackling and sparking around it.

"But enough games," he sneered, then drove his staff into the mind-floor. Rather than lancing out with incredible power as he had done before now, this was a blast that emanated from where he stood. It ripped up the fabric of my mind like the earth recoiling from a meteor strike. If my mind had been unified I could have withstood it, but Bahometus had correctly deduced that he faced only one dimensional shavings of my personality. They shattered like glass before the wave, the foul chaos energy abrading my mind away like an inrushing tidal wave sweeping the ocean floor.

"Going out with a metaphor?" Emmaline-Who-Makes-Wise-Ass-Remarks snarked.

"She thought 'like glass before the wave' so its a simile," corrected Emmaline-Who-Is-Smarter-Than-Everyone-Else.

My mental defenses collapsed in a sudden moment of shocking vulnerability. If he had chosen to Bahometus could have obliterated me in that moment, but he was already desperately trying to pull free of the quicksand of my mind, and the sudden lack of resistance was as effective as a banishment might have been. His dark light flew upwards and away from me.

I snapped awake, sucking in air ionized by las fire. I couldn't see anything. I was very cold. I brushed the hoarfrost from my eyes and lashes and sat up. All around people were yelling. The soldiers whose minds I had accidentally fused were all around me, like bees protecting a hive. Several of them were dead, feeling like missing teeth in my gums.

"Are you alright ma'am?" Rok Hergan, a boy who had once clubbed a Magistratum officer over the head with a sports paddle to recover a book of ration stamps his family had needed. The las gun in his hands shimmered in the tomb air, hot from firing to the point it was nearly visible. A bayonet socketed on the barrel was wet with a purplish fluid that oozed and hissed on the steel. Everything hurt. It felt like I had been scourged with an electro flail way beyond the point of fun. I pushed myself to my feet. The force staff was still gripped in my hand. I pulled away my palm and left skin on the half, burned and fused to the metal. The pain was an annoying background thrum. The daemons were fading, and the psychic background wrongness too. It was replaced with the eerie Xenos background wrongness. The remaining cultists were in dissary, easy meat for the metal men now their daemon allies had deserted them. Another of my bees went down, I felt the gauss rifle rip his flesh from his bones in technicolor agony. I vomited nosily onto the metal floor. I became aware of the chug chug chug of a big engine beside me. With painful deliberation I hauled my head around to see I was sheltered from the distant pyramid by the bulk of a chimera. There was an insanely loud keening noise as its multi-laser stuttered death into some unseeen target. Aware of my intentions Hergan scooped me up and carried me into the back of the vehicle. The interior was loud with the report of the rattle of one of the sponsons and with comm reports. The other teams were back in contact, the Inquisitors now shouting orders and reports across all bands.

"Fleet Command to all ground units," a voice boomed so loudly it nearly blew my eardrums out. The operator dumped the gain with a curse, tearing his own headphones off. The transmission was coming through at maximum gain to give it the best chance of cutting through the chaos of the comm net.

"Multiple Xenos vessels of unknown origin appear to be attempting to lift from the planet. Structures on the planet appear to be Xenos spacecraft. Recommend immediate withdrawal, we are sterilizing as many as we can from orbit. Repeat immediate withdrawal is imperative." Every few seconds the communication pulsed with disruption that must have been from the discharge of their vast lance batteries. My splintered mind was having trouble putting it all together. These vast pyramids were actually starships? Even as the thought formed I felt the floor shudder beneath us.

"Ma'am?" the driver called, looking back from the controls in obvious terror.

"Retrieve the inquisitor, full speed damnit!" I commanded. The chimera lurched across the metal floor, throwing up rooster tails of sparks as it built up speed. I tried to reach out to Hadrian with my mind and nearly vomited again, my psyche was still to fragmented to face the warp. I could only hope he had heard the fleet admirals desperate warning, and hope that we could get off this ship before it lifted.

Ill Met in Ostland

Wilbrecht shrugged his shoulders and gave a curt nod, leading them through the small hamlet to where a ramp of stone and earth humped up to the retaining wall. They climbed up over it and then moved down the otherside on a similar construction thirty paces down the wall. Men in smocks and leather slippers were wheeling a cart stacked with carefully lashed barrel into one of the adobe silos.

“Ve vere seyent to kinfyrm zat za seelos hayd beyen runsucked,” Natasha explained. Both Wilbrecht and Marius stared at her as though she had suddenly sprouted an additional head.

“Um we were sent to authenticate Herr Grunwald’s account that one of his silos had been looted,” Marius said with a gentle shrug of his shoulders to the other Imperial. Despite the request being in his own language this seemed to discomfort Wilbrecht further.

“There has been no looting sir and madam,” he said with offended dignity. He pushed open the door and led them inside. Barrels of powder were stacked in neat pyramids reaching up towards the ceilings.

“Security is very tight, and as you can see the silos are close to full owing to a dispute with the stevedores in Wolfenburg, now resolved I’m pleased to say,” he went on.

“Herr Grunwald’s pigeon merely noted he was sending a pair of agents to inspect the works,” Wilbrecht said with a hopeless shrug.

“No runsucking? Seyem mirchant trick?” Natasha asked, her cold eyes narrowing.

“I can only assume that you misunderstood Herr Grunwald,” Wilbrecht simpered. Natasha’s eyes grew more arctic.

“I assure you she did not,” Marius interjected. Wilbrecht crossed his arms.

“I shall send a pigeon to Wolfenburg to request clarification,” he said at last, leading them out of the powder mill and back towards the town, scratching his head in confusion.

“I doubt a reply shall be forthcoming by morning though, so in the mean time, make yourselves at home in the tavern, eat and rest, and in the morning we will sort it out.”

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"I think I see them," Emmaline said in a hushed voice. She could feel the tug of magic being worked outside. Weather magic if she was any judge, which she wasn't really. Against the far side of the cavern was a palisade wrought of some black metal, wrought into hooks and spikes. Several miserable looking crewmen huddled inside under the watchful eye of two more elves. Even as she said it four more members of the crew came up from beneath the Hammer's decks, hauling crates of provisions. The Dark Elves were forcing the crew to strip the ship before tearing her down to her timbers. Make work to break the spirits of their prisoners. Luckily it didn't seem like irreperable damage had yet been done to spars and rigging, though a significant pile of provisions stacked on the dock suggested the unloading was well advanced.

"Even if you can retake the ship," Idrin muttered, you cannot sail her from this place without wind. "This is a place ships come to die human. Once they pass into this cavern, they never return."

"Is it the nature of Elves to bitch and complain aboute every plan," Emmaline asked acidly, finding a safe channel for the fear that was gnawing at her stomach.

"I'll not hear such from a human slut!" Idrin snapped, his own fear finding the same pathway.

"Ay reckon it's just about time to be killin' elves," Morek growled, taking Emmaline's side against the elf as naturally as breathing. "And I for one am not to particular about the flavor."

"Shut up," snapped Markus with harsh intensity. They followed his eyes to where "I think I see them," Emmaline said in a hushed voice. She could feel the tug of magic being worked outside. Weather magic if she was any judge, which she wasn't really. Against the far side of the cavern was a palisade wrought of some black metal, wrought into hooks and spikes. Several miserable looking crewmen huddled inside under the watchful eye of two more elves. Even as she said it four more members of the crew came up from beneath the Hammer's decks, hauling crates of provisions. The Dark Elves were forcing the crew to strip the ship before tearing her down to her timbers. Make work to break the spirits of their prisoners. Luckily it didn't seem like irreperable damage had yet been done to spars and rigging, though a significant pile of provisions stacked on the dock suggested the unloading was well advanced.

"Even if you can retake the ship," Idrin muttered, you cannot sail her from this place without wind. "This is a place ships come to die human. Once they pass into this cavern, they never return."

"Is it the nature of Elves to bitch and complain aboute every plan," Emmaline asked acidly, finding a safe channel for the fear that was gnawing at her stomach.

"I'll not hear such from a human slut!" Idrin snapped, his own fear finding the same pathway.

"Ay reckon it's just about time to be killin' elves," Morek growled, taking Emmaline's side against the elf as naturally as breathing. "And I for one am not to particular about the flavor."

"Shut up," snapped Markus with harsh intensity. They followed his eyes to Rajad, the Indin crewman who had been teaching Emmaline to speak Indi. He stood on the other side of the barricade, gazing right at them. He made a guesture and then vanished out of sight returning a moment later with Sketti. The firstmate had a black eye and a nasty scalp wound but he brightened when Rajad spoke to him. He tried to look up towards Markus but Rajad blocked his movement to forestall him giving away their position.

"Damnned good eyes on that one," Morek muttered. The sailor and the first mate had a quick conversation and then Rajad flashed his hands several times.

"If that is a count, then the whole crew is here," Emmaline interpreted. There was a clanking of metal and a dozen dark elves with spears and shields, marched out of a side tunnel.

"They are comming for the slaves, probably to fight the fire," Idrin told them.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Bahometus reached out to crush me with his mind, I felt my essence burn under his mental lash and evaporate to nothing. Emmaline-Who-Plans-Things heard the scream as another fragment of my mind was crushed. I could feel Bahometus's frustration growing. He had expected to crush me with a single savage blow, and well he might have done, if my mind had been a single unified whole. His psychic abillity was beyond my own, but his approach was that of a sledge hammer. Now he found himself in maze of mirrors, his strength easily sufficient to smash anyone of my aspects, but there were too many for him to overcome quickly. I would never win the psycic duel, but I didn't need to. Bahometus couldn't escape my mind now he had engaged it. I just had to stay alive until Hadrian and the others caught up with him in the real world and pounded the Emperor's Judgement into his skull.

Emmaline-Who-Can't-Leave-It-Alone appeared behind Bahometus. He was stalking through an enless swath of silken wall hangings, each painted with a scenes of luxuriant excess. A wine caraffe shattered against his skull, spraying remembered wine and fragments of leaded glass in all directions. Bahometus whirled as Emmaline-Who-Can't-Leave-It-Alone dived into a painting in which a half dozen Emmaline's-Who-Exist-In-Paintings were dancing hand in hand. They all lifted their hands to their cheeks in shock and then fled in all directions.

"I will destroy you puny witchling!" he roared, launching himself at the painting. His psyche ripped through into a new vista of my mind. He caught sight of Emmaline-Who-Is-A-Decoy and charged after her. Mist swirled around both of them as they ran through a landscape of pilled stones and half completed arches. Emmaline-Who-Is-A-Decoy leaped through one of the archways with the Chaos Psyker in hot pursuit. Light blazed from all directions as they burst into the nave of a vast basillica. Emmaline-Who-Went-To-Chapel-That-One-Time stood before the Aquilla, knelt in prayer. Bahometus staggered at the sight of the slighly tarnished Aquillia, somewhat imprecise from my fragmentary memories of Echlisiarchy services long ago. The Chaos Psyker's pained walk suddenly became a run as Emmaline-Who-Has-Recently-Learned-The-Emperor-Was-Just-A-Man came running out of an archway. The Aquilla began to melt and sag. Emmaline-Who-Can't-Leave-It-Alone, crash tackled the new comer and drove her back out of the thoughtscape but the damage was done. Bahometus obliterated Emmaline-Who-Went-To-Chapel-That-One-Time and her melted Aquilla. A roar of frustration rang through my mind as this latest victory did as little to advance his cause as the last.

Above me Hergen crouched, keeping low to avoid notice amidst the chaos of battle. He could see me sweating under the strain, rhymes of frost crusting my clothing. The corner of my mouth twitched up in something like amusement.

Ill Met in Ostland

"Mehbe," Natasha conceeded. Rampaging beastmen would explain the destruction of the silos, but she didn't see how word of it would not have reached Wolfenburg via the river. Perhaps things were different in the Empire. They rode on at a trot, the forest thining as they climbed a range of low hills. The sun was just begining to sink towards the horizon when they reached the powdermills. A small village was constructed on a culdesac where the river curvetted around a small outcropping. A pallisade fence topped a wall of mortared riverstone with two timber guardhouses atop two story ston bastions that mounted a pair of small cannons. Houses with steep shale roofs clustered around a trio of brick mills. A long interior stone wall seperated three stuckoed silos, one side faced with earth and gambions in whicker baskets in case of fire. A pair of long jettys projected into the river and workmen could be seen loading a pair of barges.

"Gunstat," Marius supplied.

"Vat?" Natasha asked in surprise.

"That's what they call the settlment," he explained.

They road down to the gatehouse. Unlike at Wolfenburg, the guards here were alert and their equipment was plain but in good order. The gate was closed as they approached but opened without comment. Inside the gate was a blind wall that was overlooked by two small block houses. The wall was covered with paper notices. Rules about open flames and trespassing near the silos were prominently posted.

"I sapose ve find samone to spake vith?" she suggested.