[//Princip. belligerents={Pentarchy}//] +Carcharodons+ +Charnel Guard+
[//Princip. belligerents={Partisan}//] +Firebreak+ +Inheritors+ +Wormwood Sons+
Kadath? Forgotten it, I had. Or rather; from me it had been forgotten. Requisite lobe was partitioned and excised; in stasis-aspic stored. By the Edicts of the High Lords of Terra, not strictly legal, but in the choice between the word of the Emperor and the doctrines of my god, deliberately destroy knowledge I dared not. Thus the tale of my former home I stored; far and secure from any who might make use of it; for to the biological components of my cerebellum it is keyed; as a key is to a lock, or a tune to a flute.
Malleable is memory; eternal is information. That the method of retrieving the memory with my flesh-death is... regrettable; but to the Machine-God's will not contrary. With my death I will fulfil the Imperial Edict of Obliteration, the truth of Kadath stored forever perfect, forever hidden, from the imperfect sight of man. Of the Edict the spirit may not have been followed, but the result is the same. Exitus Acta Probat, as the Silent Sisterhood might sign it.
 |
| [//Explorator forces were commonly harboured on Kadath prior to deep dives into wilderness space; the unusually liberal and open forgeworld welcoming doctrinapilgrims. The local priesthood tithed a portion of cognitive inload on arrival and departure in return for fuel, shelter and succour prior to their extrasectorial wayfaring.+] [//@actualecho+] |
***
 |
| [//Ranict, Charnel Guard veteran. Deployed to Ishim and Kadath in quick succession, he went on to bear witness to the False Primarch on Strabo's Star.+] [//liam_m/@6pluspainting+] |
His sword, a relic of the Great Crusade, is now a shattered stump, its winged hilt and blood-red teardrop marred and cracked.
He hears the grinding of glass as the fractal shards of the blade adjust; then continue their way towards his hearts, carving bloody runnels through his chest.
He gasps, his breath rasping and fluid, blood staining his drenched plate. The figure looms as he hunches to press still harder, his scarred and ruined face further twisted by a cruel sneer.
"Monster!" he barks. "I see no sign of Sanguinius in you. You and your byblow kin are mere cannibals; far from the noble grace of your primogenitor."
He spits, the caustic liquid sizzling on the blood-slicked decking beneath the struggling pair.
'Let the rest of your rabid angels come, and let them be burnt by our scourging light. For we are the Wormwood Sons, and we have come to punish you for your sins....'
 |
| [//Wormwood Sons Chapter Champion Justinian Grendul, The Sword of Atom, the Slayer of the Flicker-Beasts, Champion of the Dance of Blades, Companion of the Black Wurm+] [//nick_t/@k0rdhal+] |