|Topic Review (Newest First)|
|08-10-14 07:33 PM|
Jairus told me that Zephyr had spoken highly of me before his death. While it was not as irrelevant to me as it seemed to be to the Brotherhood Champion I knew full well that Zephyr would’ve spoken well of every single member of Dothrac, including Mordred. Therefore Jairus’ words did not reassure me as he probably thought they would for I knew that for all that Zephyr spoke highly of me, he spoke highly of the man Jairus had called a disgrace to the Grey Knights and to the Emperor. Zephyr had been many things, but a great judge of character was not one of them. He was an excellent warrior and commander who would have no doubt risen to the ranks of the Brotherhood Captains and maybe even beyond had not Kartha cut his life short but he had never been one to understand the nuances of the members of his squad. He knew how to utilize us in a battle, how to inspire us to fight in the Emperor’s name. But he was never a peace maker. It had been left to me to balance the emotions of the squad, a role I had taken to and greatly enjoyed.
His words about my fear of failure struck me harder than I would’ve liked as I realised their accuracy. I was afraid. Afraid of failing my brothers, of failing Zephyr. Afraid that I would not be strong enough to do what was necessary. My greatest flaw had always been personal loyalty. I would sacrifice myself to save even one of my brothers without a second thought, no matter who they were or what their role was. Even now, after he had been disgraced and stripped of his position as a battle brother, I would still give my life before allowing Mordred to lose his.
His words about the Galahad who rallied Dothrac after the death of Zephyr and drove the Forsworn from The Darkest of Days were the ones that really made me look at him. I was quiet when I spoke. I knew Jairus was not going to respond, but he had to know the truth, even if he didn’t understand.
“The Galahad you want to know is one that I would choose never to free again Brotherhood Champion. He was not a Grey Knight, not a soldier. He was a killer, feeling only rage and hate, fighting only for vengeance. That Galahad is not a man you would wish to meet Brotherhood Champion. He was impulsive, reckless and had no concern for his own life or those of his brothers, only the death of his foe and the next fight. Had he been there today instead of me, he would have stood beside Initiate 437.” God, it hurt to call Mordred by that title. He was my greatest friend, the man I had fought side-by-side with for over a century and now I had to speak of him as if he were some recruit rather than a man who had proven himself to me a thousand times over and would go on to prove himself a thousand times again.
“But he would not have stood beside the initiate because he wanted to protect his brothers, but because he wanted to fight. He would have done anything to drown out the memories of the deaths of his brothers. On that hulk he didn’t care how many brothers he lost, provided the Forsworn he was facing died No Brotherhood Champion. No, Jairus. You would not like to meet that Galahad.”
As I had expected Jairus did not respond and I did not respond to his later words either until he handed me the lash to strike Talerion. I stared at him, disbelieving as Jairus said the words that would etch that moment into my memory for the rest of my life. “Now you must learn to discipline your brothers as well as comfort them.”
Talerion announced he would be taking the lashes intended for Mordred before looking to me and speaking with a warmth and understanding that had not been present when he first addressed myself and Jairus. "Justicar Galahad, my sincerest apologies for my actions,” Talerion said, his attention shifting to the lash held weakly in my grasp as I gazed at my friend in silent horror. "I know I have forced you to take action and I ask for no reprise for my sentence, I ask only that you not mar the scriptures,"
I looked at Jairus with eyes that showed no emotion, eyes that were dead. “I pray that you have not unleashed more than can be controlled Brotherhood Champion by commanding me to do this.” I addressed both of them then, speaking louder. “I will not disgrace Talerion or shame you by refusing this task Champion, but I hope that I never need to do this again. If it becomes necessary for me to do so, I do not know whether it will be the Galahad you know or the one I wish I did not.”
I whispered into Talerion’s mind then, hiding our conversation from Jairus. ‘You need not apologise to me brother. You did only what I would have done.’
I wondered if he felt the lack of emotion in my mind when I spoke to him, wondered if Jairus noted it as I brought the lash back and struck with it, leaving a diagonal red line across Talerion’s back from his left shoulder to his right hip. It was the first of many as I brought the lash down again and again. Eventually Jairus turned away, going to continue his work. I was grateful he had left, for it allowed me to let the tears run down my face as I punished my brother for something I could never blame him for doing, for it is what I would’ve once done without a second thought.
|08-08-14 06:39 AM|
Talerion watched Galahad leave the chamber, clearly a weight of doubt and the shame brought on by his and Initiate 437's actions clearly on his mind as he left. The newcomer Eriban then made his presence known, speaking to Talerion, his voice carrying sincerity in his questions "Our Justicar walks as if bowed by a great weight, was his failure so great?"
The straightforwardness was somewhat off-putting to Talerion and his immediate reaction was to lunge to the defense of his Brother Justicar, "No!" his tone harsh and defensive, relaxing and becoming more somber as he continued, "No, our Justicar has not failed us, rather we," he paused and corrected himself, "no, it is I, I who failed him."
At Talerion's suddent outburst Eriban's head snapped back from Galahad's retreating form to fix talerion with a piercing stare his tone harsh, softened by the slightest trickle of understanding "sorrow and remorse will not help him, yet a Justicar is a teacher as much as a leader. Learn from this, remember it and carry it with you and his strife will not be in vain."
Eriban's tone became more business like, his eyes fixing upon Talerion as he continued trying to gather information, to what end Talerion did not know "how did you fail, Brother?"
Talerion eyed Eriban harshly for a moment, he did not enjoy the feeling that he was being interrogated, offering only a simple explanation. "Initiate 437 broke away from the squad in an effort to intercept a group of Traitor Guard that could have revealed our position. I went after him to ensure that he would not be overwhelmed by any ambush awaiting. We did so without orders." He would speak no more on the subject and merely looked over Eriban's shoulder, the markings of another squad resplendent on the pauldron. Looking for some answers of his own he asked a question of his own of Eriban. "Why is it that the Brotherhood Champion seeks to keep you so close to him Brother Eriban?"
Eriban raised an eyebrow at the accusing tone and the bluntness of Talerion's statement and he gives a weary little shake of his head, "I can assure you it is not for the pleasure of my company which seems to be loosing it's appeal by the day." His voice grew distant and Talerion could almost taste the sorrow in his aura, though the wall within his mind kept him from knowing the source of Eriban's pain.
"I have seen... and played a part in the worst moment of our hallowed order," Eriban continued, a grim aura surrounding him and Talerion could tell he is reliving the moments before his eyes, his voice almost as if reciting a prayer. "In those moments honorable men and astartes alike are reduced to children even as they sully the Emperor's name with their blood stained lips. I have wept inside at orders I was given yet still carried them out even when my heart screamed that I should stay my hand." Talerion could only be saddened by the words and the aura that Eriban carried, he wondered if he would let his own missteps weigh so heavily on him.
Talrion's moment of introspection was interrupted as Eriban's voice became a fierce growl, "When a weapon begins to doubt the direction of the hand that wields it you watch it closely unless you want to get cut." Eriban eyed him harshly even as he mellowed a certain import in his voice, his tone half accusatory, half in warning "Just like you watch a rabid dog unless you want to get bitten."
Easily catching the barbed implications of Eriban's statement Talerion stayed his hand though he was greatly tempted to strike the newcomer for his words, even if they were not wholly untrue. If Eriban viewed them as rabid dogs, then from what Talerion could glean the man viewed himself as a broken blade.
"437 and I acted improperly and I give no resistance to that claim, nor do i oppose any sentence and punishment given by the Brotherhood Champion nor our Justicar. I admit my faults and do so openly brother Eriban, perhaps if you were to do the same, these feelings you have, this turmoil and weight on your aura that i sense but cannot know the cause; perhaps you would be alleviated of such strains were you to confide in our Brotherhood Champion, Justicar or even another battle brother. "
"My failing was to seek to aid a then battle brother, I hope that your failing will not be so simple as refusing the outstretched hand brother Eriban, perhaps you see the Brotherhood Champion's interest in you as a slight, but in truth you must be a worthy battle brother indeed for Jairus himself to seek to look after you, such attention would not be afforded just anyone," his tone was sincere and carried a warmth to it that had been severely lacking earlier in their conversation.
Eriban smiled and Talerion could feel a sense of brotherhood and closeness through the bond yet the shield does not waiver. Talerion could also sense a hint of sorrow in his aura, "You speak wisely and already you teach me to be more careful with my tongue in future." Eriban offered a bow of his head in slight deference as he continued, "You are no rabid dog yet your brother in arms that dragged you upon his leash acts as one infected by madness or stupidity. I pray it is the former for, as you say, a mind like a ship can be righted if offered the time and a helping hand, but a slow mind is difficult to speed up." It was obvious to see his forehead furrow as he struggled to choose his words, seeking to get his point across without offending. "I know not what ails him and can promise I like you will support him as a Brother, but I ask Talerion for your sake, if he runs again do not follow." In Eriban's eyes his worry is pure and he holds your gaze for a moment before speaking again, Talerion wondered if he was speaking from firsthand experience as he was still unable to discover what it was that weighed so heavily on this new member of Dothrac.
"Yet such a request cannot be made without payment and I hope this is worth the cost," Erbian spoke somberly. "Let us take this situation. Our initiate has disobeyed running ahead of his Justicar for what he thought was right. Let us pretend I am your Brother Champion, Emperor Protect us. Mordred has disobeyed and I deem him unfit, tainted in fact. You do not see his taint and feel the punishment is sever yet I deem he must be destroyed. I command you to shoot him in the head for his crime."Eriban looked deeply into Talerion's eyes, seeking to read the man's response, "What do you do?"
Talerion would fix Eriban with a quizzical look, almost a wry smile crossing his lips, "You are not the Brotherhood Champion, but, were Jairus to instruct me to put down an Initiate who has failed our Brotherhood so badly then I would carry out those orders. However, I would stay my stormbolter and use my halberd, a former battle brother of mine would deserve at least the honor of a warrior's death."
He moved as if to leave but never let Eriban out of his vision, "Brother Eriban, do not be so quick to place harsh judgement on a brother that you do not know. Now if you will excuse me I must speak with Brotherhood Champion Jairus, we have matters to discuss. We may continue this discussion at another time if you wish Brother." Talerion used the word 'Brother' for the first time directly to Eriban, a sense of sincerity and genuine kinship flowing in his aura.
His exchange with Eriban was behind him now, though it still was at the forefront of his thoughts as he entered the Brotherhood Champion's chambers as requested by Jairus himself. He was eager to have his sentence carried out, not because he felt it would absolve him of his responsibilities, rather he would gain from being held accountable for his actions.
His armor had been left with the tech priests and he wore but a simple robe that covered his lower body from waist to his knees, he looked to Brotherhood Champion Jairus and seemed as if he was about to address him, when he noticed Jairus silently pass the lash inro Galahad's hand. Still he wanted to show proper decorum and addressed them both, "Brotherhood Champion Jairus, Brother Justicar Galahad, for failure to honor your orders I stand before you for my sentencing of 70 lashes. 20 for negating your orders and 50 for attempting to strike my superior officer. Should Initiate 437 return as our Brother once more, I could not allow for his coronation to be marred by a reminder of past transgressions. I would do so for any of my Battle Brothers."
Talerion looked at Galahad and spoke to him with a tone and aura of warmth and understanding that had previously been lacking in the young bladesman. "Justicar Galahad, my sincerest apologies for my actions," his attention being drawn to the lash that lay in his Justicar's hand, "I know I have forced you to take action and I ask for no reprise for my sentence, I ask only that you not mar the scriptures," Talerion turned his arms wrist up, showing the Canticle of Absolution as well as the Sigil on his left arm and the Grey Knights War Cry in its entirety on his right. Taking a knee he bowed his head and awaited his sentence to be carried out.
|07-27-14 05:43 PM|
Initiate 437 stares at Apocathery Michael through the blue lens of his helmet and when he is indicated to sit down on one of the medical slabs he does so handing the apocathery his currently severed hands and watch Michael set to work examining the stump. When Brother-Apocathery Michael attempts to lighten Initiate 437 mood by sharing the information about Champion Jarius all he would receive from Initiate 437 is the cold blank stare of the helmet's blue eye lens meeting his own with the Apocathery may be thinking that his patient if glaring at him. For the next ten minutes the two of them remain in silence as the Apocathery works on re-attaching his hand with Initiate 437 flexing his fingers and wrist when told and once the minor surgery is complete he slides off of the medical slab and onto his feet before inclining his head and heading for the door. When Michael speaks that when they meet again he hopes to call him 'Brother' Initiate 437 once more inclines his head to Michael before bringing his hands up to make the sign of the Aquila as he then sets off on his way to the Armoury and his over-due appointment with Magos Kane.
While making his way to the armoury Initiate 437 has time to reflect on what Apocathery Michael said about the skills of Jarius and resolves to make himself one of those that can send the Brotherhood-Champion to the Apocatherion. Shaking his helmet from side to side with a tiny audible sigh Initiate 437 then turns his attention to the meeting that he is about to have with the Magos and assumes that the Magos will take his silence by verbally and psychically as part of his own dislike towards the diminutive little Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Stepping over the fresh hold of the corridor and into the armoury Initiate 437 turns his helmeted head left and right watching the servitors making repairs to weapons, armoury, combat vehicles and components for the ship itself as he then turns his head in the direction of Magos Kane who he can see has appeared and emitted a mechanical growl that Initiate 437 interprets as a sigh knowing that Kane is looking at his damaged left vambrace where his stormbolter should be. Striding over towards the Magos of the Mechanicus, Initiate 437 looks down at him and to those around he would literally tower over one of the so called: Lords of Mars, as there was close to three feet in difference between Initiate 437 and Kane's own height.
Listening to what Kane has to say Initiate 437 remains in complete silence even when he is handed the bolter and once has is handed it he turns his blue helmet lens to inspect it and sees that this bolter is probably older than even Jarius and most over members in the current company. Initiate 437's eyes scan the bolter for a name as he turns it over in his hands before taking a sure hold on it and feeling its weight and looking down its sight feeling far more comfortable with this form of bolter than he had done with the stormbolter that was once apart of his wargear. Nodding his thanks to Magos Kane he turns and begins to make his way out of the armoury and towards the training decks when the Magos pleads with him not to try and break this one, mag-locking it to his right thigh Initiate 437 turns to face Kane and brings up his hands together slotting his fingers together so that Magos Kane can see as he makes the Cog-Toothed sign of the Mechanicus before finally turning and leaving to head to the armoury.
Once reaching the armoury Initiate 437 checked the HUD on his helmet to see how much time he had left before he had to meet with the rest of Squad Dothrac and seeing that he still had plenty of time he gripped his new bolter in his hands as he moved over to the targeting range that has been set up like that of a street with moving targets stationed in the windows that would fire back blank rounds that were checked to see if they would hit the Marine. Looking around before he began he saw that some battle-brothers of other squads were on the training deck and hoped that they had not learned that he had done, and if they had that they would leave him be for now. Taking a final deep breath Initiate 437 turned back to the shooting range / training exercise as he raised his bolter up to his shoulder and began training to become more proficient with a weapon that was rarely used in the arsenal of a Grey Knight.
|07-11-14 12:09 AM|
Brotherhood Champion Jairus strode from the teleportation room with assurance and self-confidence in his stride. Whilst his steps did not falter, there was a small part of him that did. He had acted within his sphere of authority and as he thought was necessary to discipline Mordred. The whelp needed to learn. It was the other members of squad Dothrac that caused his resolve to falter slightly. He had trusted Galahad with command, perhaps before he was ready. Eriban was still holding himself back from the Communion, as he had been since Armageddon and Fenris. Talerion was only a few steps behind Mordred in his foolish path, although not so far along that he would have to take such drastic measures.
These thoughts and others besides occupied his mind as he separated from squad Dvorn and made his way to his chambers. He had taken the actions that were necessary to hammer squad Dothrac into the weapon of the Imperium they had to be. A perfect sword was not made by a single hammer blow and Jairus was certain that there would be other blows he would have to strike in order to help the squad now under his wing. But, he could not strike to hard or else he would shatter the blade and it would be worthless save for melting down and trying again. Jairus thought of these things and how to best ensure squad Dothrac did not slip into a miasma of despair when there was a hard knock on the door. Perhaps it was already too late for such things, Jairus wondered as the doors slid open.
Galahad: Brotherhood Champion Jairus listens to your speech and says nothing for a few long moments, his fingers stroking his lips in contemplation. He stands and motions for you to rise saying “Rise Justicar Galahad. Such a fate is not for you.” Jairus flicks his wrists and calls both your staff and your helmet to his hands as you stand. He offers them both back to you and nods for you to take them. You do so, although you are likely uneasy about accepting the symbol of an office you feel you do not deserve. You may well protest, try to explain that you are unworthy, but Brotherhood Champion Jairus will cut you off if you do. If not he merely speaks, and he does to kindly.
“I still believe in you Justicar Galahad of Squad Dothrac. I still believe you have the capacity to lead your brothers and use them according to their strengths. But, I fear I was mistaken in leaving you to command immediately, with no further training and so soon after Zephyr’s death. He spoke highly of you.” Jairus adds the last sentence as though it were irrelevant, but likely to you it is not. Suddenly Jarius’s voice is no longer kind, but hard as iron. You can tell there are lessons he is about to teach you, and they will likely not be easy ones either.
“You can only fail in an oath if you refuse to carry it through to its completion or your death, neither of which have occurred. You may think your request is selfless and humble, but it is not. You would leave your brothers, burden them with more shame and more dishonour because after one error you are afraid of failure?” Jairus pauses to let his words sink in before he continues. “Your brothers need a leader who will lead them through adversity, not balk in the face of it. Where is the Galahad I heard about, who marshalled his squad when their Justicar was slain, completed their objective and got them off of that Space Hulk alive and with the bodies of the dead? Find that resolve again, and use it.”
Your conversation is interrupted by a knock on Brotherhood Champion Jairus’s door. He opens it with his psychic abilities to reveal Brother Talerion standing there, clothed in a simple tunic. Jairus motions for Talerion to enter and the door hisses shut behind him. He continues to speak to you as if Talerion were not even there. “You are a peace keeper Justicar Galahad, used to keeping the humours of your brothers in balance whilst other administered the rod and the lash. No more. Talerion, what is your decision?” Talerion will say whether he will take only his lashes of Mordred’s as well. As he does, Jarius calls to his hand the lash and stand beside you facing Talerion instead of opposite you. “Now you must learn to discipline your brothers as well as comfort them.” With that he hands you the lash, clearly expecting you to administer the lashes yourself.
Talerion: Galahad leaves you, Auril and Eriban alone together. Whilst he’s gone you may take guesses as to where he is going, or you might want to learn more about Eriban. After all, he is another unknown entity entering your squad and perhaps you are curious why Eriban is being kept so close to Brotherhood Champion Jairus as you are. Or perhaps you want to organise a friendly sparring match with one or both of them later. Eriban is the only member of your squad who wields a weapon as heavy as the mighty daemonhammer and it might be good practice to pit yourself against a wider variety of foes. Plus, something like that might well give you a chance to bond with your new squad mate.
If you do decide to spar with Eriban, you decide that you should do it after you have seen Brotherhood Champion Jairus, since you and him have unresolved business to deal with. You reach out with your mind and find that both Galahad and Jairus are together in his quarters. You quickly make your way there and knock on the door. It slides open to reveal Jairus talking to Galahad. He beckons you in but then ignores you, speaking only to Galahad until he asks you “Talerion, what is your decision?” Here you must make a decision, accept only your punishment, or your brother’s as well. Whatever you decide, Jairus hands Galahad to lash, clearly expecting him to administer your punishment. It appears you are not the only one with a lesson to learn from this punishment.
Auril: Galahad leaves you, Talerion and Eriban alone together. Whilst he’s gone you may take guesses as to where he is going, or you might want to learn more about Eriban. After all, he is another unknown entity entering your squad and perhaps you are curious why Eriban is being kept so close to Brotherhood Champion Jairus as you are. Or perhaps you want to organise a friendly sparring match with one or both of them later. Eriban is the only member of your squad who wields a weapon as heavy as the mighty daemonhammer and it might be good practice to pit yourself against a wider variety of foes. Plus, something like that might well give you a chance to bond with your new squad mate.
Before long Talerion leaves you too. Now it is just you and Eriban. Well, almost. In the archway to the room, you see Justicar Santoro has returned. He moves to speak to Eriban with his mouth, but in your head you hear his voice +My brother is troubled by these recent months. He feels shame for our actions as keenly as you do for your squad mates. I am told you are a man of zeal and faith, more so than many of us. Watch over him. He is my friend and I do not wish to see him fall into the abyss.+ Santoro’s conversation with you seems to finish at the same time he finishes talking to Eriban. The two embrace and the Justicar nods to you as he leaves, leaving you alone again with your new brother.
Initiate 437: You walk into the Apothecarion and are greeted by the face of Apothecary Michael. The corner of his mouth curls into a sympathetic smile “Brotherhood Champion Jairus told me you would come. Let me see the wound.” He motions for you to sit down on one of the medical slabs and he takes your unattached hand from you. He immediately sits it in a tray of ice and begins to inspect your stump. As he does so he talks to you, as it is normal process. “You know, Brotherhood Jairus is a man I rarely see in here, and whilst your own capacity at arms is impressive, you were not going to be one of the few to send him into my arms.” Michael chuckles, clearly trying to make light of the situation as he reattaches your hand, probably trying to alleviate whatever negative emotions you are feeling right now.
Your hand is reattached after about 10 minutes of surgery and Michael tells you that you should head to the armoury to get your armour repaired. As you go to leave he says “I hope to see you again, and call you Brother when I do.” You make your way to the armoury Magos Kane emits a mechanical growl that you interpret as a sigh. “I know you detest wearing a storm bolter, but did you have to destroy it just to prove a point Knight Mordred?” Obviously the Magos has not been told about your recent demotion. Magos Kane beckons you over and begins to make the reperations to your armour, pausing for a moment on the clean cut at your wrist before sealing it. After he has finished he tells you “I contacted Brotherhood Champion Jairus about your request for a bolter instead of a storm bolter. He approved it, surprisingly.” He then hands you an incredibly ornate bolter, a weapon so old you are convinced it is probably a relic. He pleads with you “In the Omnissiah’s name, please take care of that weapon Mordred.”
Eriban: Your new Justicar leave abruptly after introductions are made, leaving only you, Auril and Talerion. It might be wise to get to know your new squad mates, since your feelings of doubt are likely to nestle in you for a while and thus you will likely remain in squad Dothrac for some time too. Or you might seek the challenge one of these brothers to a friendly spar, helping you to both train and provide a distraction from your own thoughts.Soon enough, Talerion too makes his excuses and leaves too.
You think you are alone with Auril before you notice Santoro standing in the entrance arch-way. It is likely strange for you to be so close to your old Justicar and not feel his thoughts rub against yours. He walks over to you and begins to speak with a half-smile. “My Brother. We will…” Santoro catches himself “…I will miss your voice in the Communion. You’ve kept us right at so many times and helped our squad remain resolute. I hope these brothers may do the same for you.” Santoro has likely guessed the source of your same, but for whatever reason, likely the courtesy of choosing who you speak to about it. Santoro embraces you and then turns on his heel, acknowledging Auril on his way out. You have an hour to do with as you please. Perhaps it would be wise to stick with at least one member or squad Dothrac for the time being, in order to bond. But then again, if you have no desire to, perhaps you should not.
(Alright guys, update time. Unfortunately, it looks like I favour some people more than others because of the amount of writing some people have. It’s not true, it’s just unfortunate that the dialogue only happens for those people. Hopefully though, you should all have enough to work with and get some decent mileage out of this update.
|07-10-14 06:39 AM|
Auril felt like he was soaring to the height of his skill, fighting the best that he'd ever done. His blade flew in his hands, thrusting, slashing, parrying, complementing Galahad's stave-work; as the Justicar said the names of their former squad-brethren, Auril echoed them psychically.
A thrust scored, scraping across the warped ceramite of the traitor's plate and cutting into his arm. The power maul parried the next slash, sending the Grey Knight back; a bolt-round smashed into his breastplate and drove him another step back. In the blink of an eye, Galahad was in close, pummeling the ancient heretic; in another quarter-second, the Justicar was sliding across the floor and Auril was stepping in, interposing his sword-blade between the power maul and his body.
Back, back, he was driven; the powerful strikes of the maul were only barely turned away by the ministrations of the Nemesis sword. But even then, Auril caught sight of Galahad rejoining the fight- first with his mind, and then as the Grey Knight surged out from the corner of his eye.
It was done. Auril struck the maul aside, in a brazenly open move that left him completely open for a return blow- but that would never come, because Galahad barrelled the traitor to the deck. A name- Emrys, echoed by Auril's psychic voice- sounded out, and then the Justicar's stave smashed through the heretic's chest and pinned him to the deck.
"May the Emperor spit on your soul." Auril hissed, his helmet blaring the words out in a vox-twisted snarl. The sword descended, slamming point-first into seal between gorget and helm; the force of the blow was such that the weapon was driven almost to the hilt, the Grey Knight on one knee.
The traitor's head rolled away, the roundness of his helm guiding it in a slow semicircle before it fell into the crew pit. Standing, Auril placed a boot on the fallen Astartes' breastplate and withdrew the force blade; the backpack it had driven through sparked wildly as the sword came out, before powering down with an audible sound. Crouching, the Grey Knight ripped the tattered loincloth away from the traitor's belt and drew it along his sword-blade, cleaning gore and hydraulic fluid from the silver-flecked iron before igniting the rag with his mind and dropping it.
The bridge crew stared in horror.
No doubt they'd seen worse in the warp, worse blasted into their deranged minds by the Dark Powers. But that fallen angel had been their protector, and now death was sure.
It was a curiously silent slaughter. Several went for lasweapons they wore; their deaths were the quickest, simply abortive blows to the head and neck administered with the point of Auril's sword. The others, those that simply cowered and prayed to their ruinous gods, were not worth a sword-stroke; instead, the Astartes gripped their skulls in his hand and crushed them, one by one. The captain he saved for last.
The man wore what had once been a naval officer's uniform, insignia torn off and replaced by foul symbols. He was on his knees, hands clasped together as if in supplication; words poured from his mouth, entreaties for mercy, for forgiveness. He got none.
+By the authority of the Inquisition,+ Auril pulsed, the sheer brutality of the psychic jab curling the man into a fetal position, +I here submit your soul to the Emperor's judgment.+
The captain's bowels voided, in the brief second before Auril rammed his blade through the human's chest.
Ianus deactivated life support; several red icons pulsed in Auril's helm display, telling him that oxygen was fast draining, but his suit supply was still full. After only a short while, the Grey Knight glanced over at the bridge auspex, seeing the last life-signs blinking out, till only six remained. And then the Brotherhood Champion and another squad slammed into existence.
Praise for his individual actions, yet outweighed by the criticism- it was shameful in its truth. Auril stood through the Champion's words, head bowed in contrition. A new brother for the squad- Eriban. He appeared to be a good battle-brother, well-spirited...
And then, after they arrived back aboard the Holy Wrath, Mordred opened his mouth. The insubordination was shocking. Even painful- Auril could feel each word, and those of Jairus' response, as they hammered into him. The blows Mordred suffered at the hand of the Champion, he felt too. Although Mordred's transgression, it reflected upon the rest of the squad- they, too, would share in the shame.
Auril sagged against his sword, which supported him tip-down on the deck. Eriban introduced himself; the Astartes nodded in acknowledgment.
+Welcome, brother. I am Auril.+ he pulsed, struggling not to show the emotion that roiled inside him.
|06-28-14 01:26 PM|
‘Please Santoro,’ I whispered into the Justicar’s mind as the older man moved to block me. ‘I have to stop Mordred’s madness before he does something unforgivable and Jairus puts him down. The man is fragile, he still blames himself for Zephyr’s death and I need time to bring him out of the cage of self loathing he has contained himself in. If he falls any further, I do not think I will ever be able to reach him.’
Santoro shook his head and I was forced to watch in horror as Jairus sliced Mordred’s hand off at the wrist and backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling. I barely heard Jairus’ words to my brother as I stared at my failure. Not my failure as a Justicar for that I had been almost expecting, I was too much of a peacemaker to force my brothers to obey my every order as Zephyr had been able to. Zephyr had been older and more experienced than I and he had been able to rely on me to soothe tempers and calm the rest of the squad.
I remembered back to his last moments on the Darkest of Days as I knelt beside him fighting to keep him alive. He had grasped my shoulder and pulled me down close so that he could whisper a request. “Keep our brothers safe as well as you are able. Do not let Dothrac be broken.” I had sworn to him that I would do as he asked, that I would protect my brothers to the best of my abilities but I had failed. I had failed to keep my oath to the man who had taught me everything I knew, the man to whom I owed my life.
I heard as Jairus revoked Mordred’s status as a Grey Knight, returning him to the rank of initiate before turning away and leaving the teleportation chamber with Squad Dvorn. +I suggest you get you Initiate to the Apothecarium so they can reattach his hand. He'll need it when we make planet fall. I hope I don't have to send you entire squad back to the training fields of Titan for one man's foolishness.+ Jairus sent to me as he left. I turned to do so, but Mordred had already left. I looked at his retreating form, his slumped shoulders and the way he kept both arms clasped in front of his chest. I followed him with my mind, watching as he scratched off his personal insignia and returned his helmet to his head.
"Such a beginning cannot be a good omen for our brotherhood," the new brother who had joined us, Eriban, spoke up. His eyes locked onto mine and I returned his stare with one just as cold. He continued. "Yet no first kill has ever been clean, it is how we learn from our first and take our second right up until the kill that is our last that defines us in the Emperor's eyes." With that he stuck out his hand, his head tilting over to one side as he doubtless wondered whether any of us would take it. I took his hand in mine and shook it, adding his mind to my memory as I did so. ‘It will be an honour to serve alongside you Eriban, I apologise for the poor first impression.’ While my first sending was public so that my nearby brothers could hear, my second sending was private. ‘I feel pain in your mind brother, pain and suffering. I am not demanding anything, but should you ever need someone to talk with, or even just to listen, know that I will always be there for as long as you are part of Dothrac.’ I wondered if he would pick up on the fact that I avoided calling Dothrac mine, wondered if he would guess my intentions.
I smiled to him before turning on my heel and walking through the ship, searching with my mind for Jairus. Upon finding him in his chambers I withdrew before he sensed me and began striding in that direction.
I came to a halt at the door and knocked. Jairus opened the door and stiffened for a moment on seeing me. “Galahad,” he said warily. I bowed my head and when I straightened I spoke. “May I come in Brotherhood Champion? What I wish to discuss would be better spoken of in private.” The Champion nodded and let me in before sitting in a chair as I stood in the middle of the room.
I reached up and disengaged my helmet seals, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. I saw Jairus’ eyes widen in confusion and then narrow as the reason for my being there finally began to dawn on him. I bowed my head, speaking quietly. “I have failed you and my squad Brotherhood Champion and so I wish to resign my position as Justicar. I would recommend elevating Auril to the position.” I dropped my Warding Stave from my right hand, continuing to speak. “I have failed to protect my brothers and therefore no longer deserve to carry this weapon.”
I dropped to my knees before him and looked up into his face. “Worse than all of that Brotherhood Champion, I have failed to keep the oath I made to Justicar Zephyr as he died. I have failed him, myself and the Emperor. I request that I be permitted to once again become an initiate until I have redeemed myself in the eyes of you, myself and the Empeor.”
|06-26-14 09:22 PM|
The hammer was not an elegant weapon; Eriban knew that and loved it all the more. The haft blocked with a thick clang, the head crushed with the dull thud of finality. When it descended it crushed everything, even the screams.
It was his weapon and now, unguilded and unadorned by pointless trinkets, it personified him entirely. Stoic and unrelenting, dark and brooding.
Traitors had stood before him with their lasbolts, backs straightened by the false confidence of foul Gods. It had lightened his heart to see a wave of desperation slide across their faces, a landslide of terror as their little lights had rebounded off his breastplate, as he strode through their feeble resistance with the ease of a traveller through a spring shower.
Now it was over, the ship a silent spectre floating in the void.
The nauseating lurch of matter transfusion brought him back to reality, a small grimace beneath his helmet as his body went limp, his magnaclamps keeping him perfectly still even as he reeled inside.
He kept silent, others voicing their displeasure, the recycled banter of close brethren comforting and familiar and he allowed his amusement to flow into the link between them. A comforting tendril of his thought reaching out to lazily caress the minds of his comrades. Briefly he felt their emotions, their own amusement, the dulling alertness post combat and even the slightest hint of surprise that their newest member had reached out.
He had never been a talker, always quiet and contented yet back before the shame he had been a reacher, open with his memories and happy to share his soul with his brothers.
Now he had emotions he couldn't share, memories he would not, no could not divulge if he wanted to still be called brother. He knew that was why Brother Champion Jarius kept him so close.
How can you trust a man when he hides so much from you?
He remembered his first contact with the Champion. The eyes that pierced even as he reached out to him, to see into his soul pushing lazily onward, eyes suddenly wide as they hit the wall. It was the same with everyone the startling sensation of water hitting ceramite even as they flowed around it. Wide eyes became questioning then understanding as Eriban pushed a single word back
He felt a nudge back towards the teleporter from the Justicar and he followed without question his mind drifting even as he retook his position, a second lurch of his stomach payment for his failure to steel himself for the experience.
There was an anger stemming from the Brotherhood Champion and Eriban half reached for his weapon an instinctive reaction his brother before he took in the scene. Two Bearers of the Word lay dead upon the bridge, twisted flesh charred and torn apart by 4 Grey Knights standing before them. So few?
Squad Dvorn stood together, thoughts carefully avoiding the maelstron of anger that enfused the Brother Champion a single thought uniting them. Rather them than us.
The Justicar's mind suddenly became guarded his own wariness replaced by emptiness and Eriban's head pivoted on impulse to look at the warrior, Santaro's gaze fixed intentlyupon the rapidly cooling aura of Jarius.
Momentarily alone then suddenly joined, the thoughts of his Justicar pressing into his mind with warm reassurance yet there was a hesitance buried deep within.
+You are being transferred over to Squad Dothrac. Brotherhood Champion Jairus assures me it is only temporary; he just wants you by his side for a time. This is not a punishment Eriban, please know that.+
He was stunned for a moment,the sense of comfort and camaraderie he had felt mere moments ago fading yet he was not surprised. The squad had incurred Jarius's wrath and where better to place the person you wished to watch than in the squad you had to watch.
It was the logical thing to do and Eriban pushed a feeling of fondness into the bond, a single thought spreading through the link they had shared, so briefly, as a squad.
+It has been a honour to serve amongst brethren once more+
Jarius spoke aloud confirming the transfer and Eriban moved forward words of greeting on his lips a hand half outstretched. A helmet was roughly bundled into the Justicar's hands by a new arrival who strode to stand nose to nose with the Brother Champion.
"Brotherhood-Champion Jarius, you may censure me if you wish for this but I honestly do not care as I will speak my mind."
It was like a strike to Eriban's heart and he took a step backwards, a snarl spreading across his face, like a fissure in earth. Unnatural and jagged, he forced his thoughts behind the wall of his mind.
Even within this most sanct of orders there was strife and conflict, a brother would dare speak so rudely and so stupidly to his commanding officer and use his superior officer as a hat rack.
His words were pompous and though Eriban could sense the heart of good intentions the message was lost in twisting turns of idiocy and bile, the speech ending between a rock and a hard place.
Jarius's rage was all consuming, the eye of a snow storm, icy cold he froze the foolish brother where he stood, bearing down on him like a tornado even as the prompt to move oozed through the bond. He moved instinctively squaring himself face to face with the brother he was swapping. Arms folded and legs spread, a solid base from which to defend, no matter the cost, he would never harm a brother.
The same did not apply for Brother Mordred, who even as he thawed seemed unbent or unbowed, levelling a mighty blow at the Champions chin, perhaps hampered by the frost he was too slow and paid the price. Stupid,tempestuous,and most of all insubordinate, better still part of a squad ruled by a Justicar who had seemingly failed in his first command.
Not a good start.
His brow furrowed and he watched the smouldering Champion stride away taking his squad with him, Ianus stopping to take a long lingering look at his displaced comrade, compassion and duty warring within before he took his rightful place on the pad.
The new initiate had been well respected no doubt and he resisted the sudden desire to be scathing, it would serve no purpose but to split the squad further.
A flash of light and squad Dothrac was alone. There was silence even as the handless Initiate rushed away head bowed, lifeless fingers clutched in his remaining hand.
Best to let a wild dog lick his wounds before coming to his side, yet his comrade in arms who had returned with him from the bowels of the ship scurried after him. The wild dog and his faithful pup.
Lost in thought eyes half in reverie, his whisper a faint trickle that seemed to slip from his mouth unbidden
"Such a beginning cannot be a good omen for our brotherhood,"
A small shake of his head as he looked Justicar Galahad straight in the eyes his words half in council, half in consolation
" yet no first kill has ever been clean,"
his gaze was unwavering taking in the two that flanked him
"it his how we learn from our first and take our second right up until the kill that is our last that defines us in the Emperor's eyes"
He held out a firm hand head tilting as he wondered if any would take it
|06-26-14 08:12 PM|
“This world will fall to the Word and blood. You cannot stop it. You failed to even save your brothers Mordred. How will you save an entire planet?” the Forsworn spat, black blood coating his lips and pouring from his various wounds. The halberd hung just over the Traitor's neck, Talerion brought the blade up, providing a riposte to the venomous last words of the vile once Astartes "Mordred does not fight alone you Heretic, you are more foul than any mortal traitor, your soul will be twice cursed by the Warp!" With that, Talerion brought the shimmering blue and white blade of the halberd down, neatly severing the Forsworn's head from his shoulders and leaving the Traitor Marine's body in a heap.
Suddenly the magnetic clamps in the soles of his massive ceramite boots kicked in and the body of the ravaged Traitor marine began to float, he nodded to Mordred that it was time to make their way to the bridge. As he did so a ringing, ice cold sensation shot through his mind, it was Brother Champion Jairus pushing out with his thoughts, seeking him and Mordred in particular out.
His psychic silence is enough to warn you that he is less than impressed. The momentary silence gives way to a harshly worded reprimand, +Talerion, Mordred you reckless fools! You fight as a unit, as a brotherhood. Not as individuals charging off after personal glory. You have a duty to respect your Justicar, and you have failed in that. Now get back here.+ With that you feel the attention of your leader turn on those of you on the bridge +Auril, you have acted as I would expect one of our order to act. Galahad, perhaps I was mistaken with leaving you in charge of a squad so soon after you lost your Justicar. You will retain your title and your authority, but your squad will shadow me until such a time as you are able to command on your own. +
With their presence demanded on the Bridge of the dying ship, Talerion maneuvers through the bowles of the ship with all haste along with Mordred in order to not anger Brother Champion Jairus any further.
As they enter, there is not a friendly or jovial greeting one would typically expect after a great victory, rather there was a sense in the air of utter disappointment. Jairus barely acknowledged their presence as they entered and began issuing orders. Brother Ianus would be departing Dothrac to take a place under the command of Justicar Santoro and a new member named Eriban would be joining them from Santoro's squad. Furthermore Dothrac would now be shadowing the Brother Champion's squad. Dothrac was to be swaddled and looked after the way one might look after an infant that could not fend for itself. It was insulting, but Talerion did not allow himself to respond or to provoke further action from Jairus. He was happy that they had escaped with a mild rebuking and nothing more.
That thought of that one minor grace gave way as Mordred proceeded to open his mouth. "Brotherhood-Champion Jarius, you may censure me if you wish for this but I honestly do not care as I will speak my mind." Mordred says removing his helmet and handing it to Galahad before he strides up to Jarius who was standing on the teleporter array with another Squad around him, with his face curled a frown that looks like it could slay an ork at fifty paces. "It was not a failing of Brother-Justicar Galahad that meant he could not control myself or Talerion, it was our own. Mine for leaving my squad to hunt down fleeing traitors so they would not give away our position, and Brother Talerion's only failing is that he came to aid me and if he had not then a Forsworn's plasma blast would have slain me. So I suggest that you do not speak to Justicar Galahad in such a way again My Lord" Mordred was now staring directly into Jarius's eyes (or lens if his helmet is still on) with his chestplate bumping up against Jarius's own. "Or you will find yourself in need of visiting the apocatherion to have your jaw reset and replacement teeth implanted, and while you say that Galahad might be the wrong choice for Justicar of Dothrac. Remember that it was YOU who chose him to lead our squad so if there is blame to be placed then it is to be placed on you for your poor judgement. Now if you excuse me Brother-Champion I am off to the armoury to request a replacement for my stormbolter."
While Talerion appreciated that Mordred acknowledged that he had forced his hand into action, he had still made an ill advised decision to go after his Brother. Furthermore, he would not have been so bold and foolish as to throw it into the face of their Brotherhood Champion who was already at his limits of patience with them. His psychic voice tried to reach out to Mordred but was cut off by the harsh and biting cold of Brotherhood Champion Jairus, his plea to his Battle Brother went unheard as Jairus used his abilities to mentally silence Talerion. The Brotherhood Champion then spoke privately to Talerion via their mental link in a somber tone +At least you have the sensibility and humility to accept your criticism. It does not excuse you, but at least you are not blinded by pride. Sadly these actions, and the consequences they bear, are Mordred's alone to accept. Do not intervene but know I take no joy in this.+ The psychic warning was ominous, and a small part of Talerion feared what might come upon Mordred. A beating more savage than he had ever seen he suspected was about to befall his Brother.
Jairus and Mordred's exchange then erupted into an undisciplined violence wholly uncharacteristic of the Grey Knights as Mordred swung at Jairus with his fist. Talerion was stunned and despite Jairus' warning his instinct was to step forward on his Brother's behalf but Squad Dvorn now stood in between the proceedings and Dothrac. Talerion watched in disbelief as the Brother Champion took a perfectly timed half step back, his eyes grew wide beneath his helmet though as Jairus, with an expertly placed slash took Mordred's strong sword hand off at the wrist before spinning and slamming his power gauntleted hand into Morded's face, causing blood to spatter across the floor as his Battle Brother was knocked unconcious.
"You are a disgrace to this Chapter and The Emperor. Since you have displayed so clearly, by attempting to strike your commanding officer and by insubordination, that you lack the characteristics required of a Grey Knight, I de-name you. You are no longer Mordred of Squad Dothrac, member of the 8th Brotherhood. You are Initiate 437 until such a time as you can display that you have learnt the qualities required of one of our order."
Talerion spoke up, seeking to do what little he could "Brotherhood Champion, Justicar, permission to take Br-" He caught himself before he called Mordred his Brother, "Initiate 437 to the Apothecarin Lords?"
The Brotherhood Champion turned to him and spoke of Mordred, now Initiate 437 in a dismissive and thoroughly disappointed tone, there was a sadness that crept into voice as he spoke, "He is Squad Dothrac's initiate now, tend to him as you see fit. But I would hope that even an initiate would be able to find the Apothecarion unaided." Talerion's concern for his Brother was still there, and even though he was only an Initiate now, he knew he would still have great pride, 437 had managed to get himself to his feet, his left arm tucked close to his body his severed hand held by his remaining right hand. Mordred, Initiate 437 would want not want the shame of having to be helped to the Apothecarion and so he let him make his own way.
As Jairus left he reopened their mental link and spoke to Talerion privately his tone less of an angry commander and more like a father, seeking how he might best discipline his child: +I would be remiss if I did not punish you for your recklessness in this Talerion, but I have no desire to see Squad Dothrac's spirit quashed under a mountain of shame. You will come to me before we make planetfall to receive 20 lashes and then we will speak no more of this. But, I do offer you a choice. Initiate 437, were he a battle brother, would earn a full 50 lashes for his actions. You may leave them as a delayed lesson and punishment that he must endure, if you see fit. Or you may take them as you own, bearing your brothers with the selflessness us in the service of Him On Terra should display. The choice is yours.+ Talerion thought for a moment before responding to Jairus, rather than seek excuses or absolve himself of further burden he spoke softly in response, mentally channeling a sense of understanding, he had forced the Brotherhood Champions hand, it was not a malicious sentence. *+I thank you for your humility and grace Brotherhood Champion Jairus+* Talerion continued *+As for my sentence and that of Initiate 437- *+ He was cut off by Jairus, a sense of warmth, a certain level of kinship and understanding accompanied his words, but also a sense that for the time being, these would be the final words spoken on the matter until the time that Talerion's sentence was carried out. +Be with your brothers for the moment, and come to me with your decision.+
|06-26-14 05:27 AM|
OOC: Well played Deus, well played. Now lets see that i can do to Veptus in return *laughs* no im not that petty and Veptus would never annoy Xandrek.
Mordred froze as psychic hoar-frost coated his armour and stopped him from moving and he realised that he had indeed gone to far but at the very least he would accept his punishment like a Grey Knight, however what he was not expected was the way in which the punishment was given with his left wrist being severed from the rest of his arm dropping to the ground as he winced in pain keeping himself from saying or doing anything further to disgrace himself and when he heard Champion Jarius de-name him and return him to an initiate that stung him even more then having his hand removed making him blank to the fact that the punch then knocked him to the floor dislocating his jaw.
After Jarius left Mordred pushed himself up onto his feet and stared down at the stump of his left arm and then at the hand on the floor before retrieving it and making his own way to the apocatherion leaving the rest of his squad behind as he had no wish to be around them now that he had a new shame to pile upon his others. Stalking through the halls of the 'Wrath' he makes his way to the apocatherion with his own personal insignia removed and his helmet returned to his head as he had no wish to be seen and that the right to a name and insignia belonged to Battle-Brothers and not initiates.
Walking up to the Apocathery Mordred held up his stump of his left arm and then his left hand in his right before moving to sit himself down on a medical slab as he let the Apocathery decide if the hand was still use-able or if he would require a bionic. Thinking on what he had done over the last few months and the shame that he had brought upon himself and now his squad and sighed to himself deciding that until he believed himself that he was ready, his status as a battle-brother restored and Squad Dothrac and Galahad were also restored in Jarius's eyes that he would take a vow of silence save unless required to speak either physically or mental by his superior offices.
|06-26-14 01:09 AM|
All: As Mordred goes to leave, psychic hoar-frost collects on Brotherhood Champion Jairus' fingertips and Mordred freezes in place. "I did not excuse you, Brother Mordred." Brotherhood Champion Jairus speaks with a cold fury you are all unused to hearing. It is awe-inspiring and terrifying in the same moment. You can all feel the psychic fury behind his words and you get the distinct impression Mordred has vastly over-stepped his bounds. Jairus takes several powerful stride which carry him in front of Mordred.
The rest of you, bar Eriban, notice that members of Squad Dvorn move to stand in front of you. Galahad is blocked by Justicar Santoro of course and the rest of you find your way to Mordred blocked by one of your own order. Whatever punishment Brotherhood Champion Jairus is about to issue to Mordred the message is clear; you are not to interfere. Eriban, you feel a compulsion to block Ianus, given that he only just left Squad Dothrac. You can't be certain if that comes from your Justicar or from Brotherhood Champion Jairus, but you obey none the less.
"It should not surprise me that one whose head is so full of arrogance and self-righteousness would be unable to comprehend even the most basic of reprimands. I believed Galahad was ready for command and in this I may have been mistaken, this I have already admitted to. However, my faith in him does not mitigate his inadequacy or excuse his inability to hold his squad together, as is exemplified in this childish, arrogant, preening out-burst of yours." Jairus' voice does not raise in volume, but you can all feel the growing tension behind the words, like the smell of ozone before a teleportation arrives. Galahad, you especially feel that although this tirade is directed at Mordred for his out-burst, any faith Jairus had in your ability to lead is quickly diminishing. The rest of you may feel shame at Mordred actions, or perhaps you agree with him and seek to intervene.
Brotherhood Champion Jairus is not done yet though. "The fact that Talerion's foolishness saved your life is no justification at all. It only serves to prove that, had it not been for your brother's watching over you, you would be dead from your own recklessness." Mordred's limbs become free once again and his fist moves to make good on the promise he had just made of sending Brotherhood Champion Jairus to the Apothecarion. Faster than your eyes can follow, Jairus' Anointed Blade is in his hand and separates Mordred's arm at the wrist. A moment later, the back of Jairus' fist strikes Mordred across the jaw, sending him sprawling onto the floor.
As Mordred tries to rise, Jairus' blade points to the nape of Mordred's neck, preventing him from rising and keeping his face fixed looking at the ground. "You are a disgrace to this Chapter and The Emperor. Since you have displayed so clearly, by attempting to strike your commanding officer and by insubordination, that you lack the characteristics required of a Grey Knight, I de-name you. You are no longer Mordred of Squad Dothrac, member of the 8th Brotherhood. You are Initiate 437 until such a time as you can display that you have learnt the qualities required of one of our order." With that Jairus leaves the teleportation chamber with Squad Dvorn, Ianus taking a long look at Mordred before trailing after the members of his new squad.
As he leaves, he speaks into Galahad's mind +I suggest you get you Initiate to the Apothecarion so they can reattach his hand. He'll need it when we make planet fall. I hope I don't have to send you entire squad back to the training fields of Titan for one man's foolishness.+ Now you are left alone. One of your number has been reduced to a mere initiate. If you didn't feel any shame for your actions or the actions of your brothers, you most likely will now. Eriban, what do you make of your new squad mates?
(Well, if you didn't have enough to think about before, now you certainly do. Revan, I'd delete your last paragraph. You didn't really think you'd be able to walk away from threatening to punch your commanded unscathed did you? If you hurry to the Apothecarion they will reattach your hand instead of giving you a bionic one and re-set your jaw since the force of a armoured Astartes fist will have surely broken it, much like you promised and failed to do.)
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