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post #1 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-26-09, 09:14 PM Thread Starter
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Default To be a thousand son

The sorcerer stood upon the bridge of his ship, The Power, and smiled as he saw the black ship before him. The word "fire" curled upon his lips and the ship before him reeled drunkenly as his broadside batteries impacted upon the rear shields of the Merciless hunter, the bane of psykers the world over.

With a quick nod to the captain he swept from the room and a blood red cloak swirled brushing lightly against his power armour. His steps were hurried as he traversed the decks, his feet moving subconsciously as his mind wandered brushing against the simple minds of servitors as he sought the consciousness of his second in command.

He found it 3 floors down and seized it pressing words into the subconscious of his solemn friend

*How long have I got?* muttered the sorcerer.

*80 seconds, my Lord,* came the cool and seamless response.

Rak'an cursed and broke into the long loping stride of the astartes before quickly breaking into a sprint. He reached the stairs as Ptah's mindvoice cut through his thoughts once more and the words
*60 seconds* exploded in his mind. He leapt the first and second stair cases and slid down the third staggering as he landed on the deck.
*30 seconds*
A curse escaped his lips as he began to sprint once more flying past the open doors of torpedoes and watching them slide shut as he sprinted. The last torpedo was open and he saw Ptah's arm blocking the door as a red mist of exhaustion descended over him
*10 seconds... 9...*

A surge of strength entered his limbs and he slid through the door with seconds to spare, sinking into the seat opposite Ptah with a groan. He opened the vox channel to the 4 helmeted figures sharing his torpedo and muttered angrily to Ptah,

"The countdown was not necessary"

He thought a smile blossomed under Ptah's glittering faceplate and he felt a playful psychic push that threw him back in his seat. He stared through the pod viewscreen at the rear of the Imperial Inquisitor's ship, its engines were smoking and he saw fires blooming as the lascannons of The Power laid down a blistering bombardment. He could see it tilting slightly as it tried to turn and the hold of the ship grew.

"Bingo," he whispered as the sorcerer piloting the craft (Brother Sark'ian) increased the thrust. He felt his mind brush with Ptah's and he pushed the words,

*Can you feel them?* into his friend's mind.

He felt the stir as Ptah reach outwards, questing to find the psykers. Surprise blossomed across the connection and Rak'an sat up in alarm,

*They aren't there?*

*It is... dark,* Ptah's voice was tinted with frustration.

Rak'an reached out struggling to find the psykers and he exclaimed aloud, "They should burn like an inferno... why?"

Magnus's words floated into his head and for a second he knelt before his primarch in the tower of sorcerers once more,

"Varkan has no real power amongst the inquisition, yet he is becoming increasingly painful to Our cause. You know Brother Ar'ian returned yesterday, empty handed. Varkan discovered and annihilated his cabal which stunted our recruitment of new psykers. Varkan must pay the penance... I want you to lead a strike team against him... kill him and his team.... take any of his prisoners, they will be strong psykers and if you could bend them to your will you would be able to complete what Ar'ian failed. Beware though, Varkan has assembled an elite anti-psyche team, Ar'ian reported psychic hoods... untouchables..."

The words blasted into his mind and he eagerly burbled into the vox, "They have an untouchable with them... makes sense. If one of them got loose they would have to use psychic powers and an untouchable prevents that entirely."

He felt the pilot increase the thrusters once more and he felt the cold brush as Ptah reached out, guiding the pilot towards the psychic blackness that lingered within the ship.

Rak'an turned to the other Sorcerers, Brother Dah'rak and Brother Kel'arah, and indicated the flamer and bolter at their feet.

"You two out first. I want that untouchable dead before we start releasing prisoners."

He felt their psychic agreement and slipped his bolt pistol from its sheath and reached up to unclip his staff as the viewsceen's surface showed that the hold became a fast approaching wall in front of them. His fingers clenched upon the hard cool metal and he felt an inner calm sweep over him as his eye locked upon the eye of Magnus. Deep within his inner sanctum he felt a slight shudder as the torpedo impacted with a resounding vibration, its tipped blades boring deep into the wall.

He heard Sark'ian yell above the howl of tearing metal "BRACE YOURSELVES" as the melta charges exploded, temporarily blinding the occupants as his helmets filters frantically readjusted to the light and he clung to pistol for dear life.

The scene dramatically appeared before his eyes,

8 Prisoners were chained upon the wall. 10 guardsman lay stunned and blinded upon the floor. His bolt pistol bucked and there was a scream followed by 3 more shots and a burst of flame as Dah'rak and Brother Kel'arah rushed past him. The guardsman struggled to their feet, reaching for weapons before being bathed in flame. He rushed towards the nearest prisoner as the room danced in flames yet a set of empty chains caught his eye and he roared in frustration at a stunninly beautiful woman hanging from her chains the blood stains of her torture visible through her robes

"Where is he?"
__________________________________________________ ______________


Everybody except Trevor Drake

Ok so each one of you are chained upon the wall dressed in identical white robes that bear the stains of your torture... those wounds still hurt. The melta charge brings you to consciousness and you gain your sight slowly to see the thousand sons sorceror from your dream and he rushes towards you. React to his appearance for some of you may have doubts now you see your guards being assaulted and wreathed by a flamer. For some of you this may be the first time you have seen someone murdered and his butchery may appaul or delight you.

Also you may fear the emperors wroth for you are now in the jaws of chaos. Are you going to abandon the emperors light in the face of what you have been through?

You are under the effects of several anti psyker drugs and so your clumsy attempts to reach for the warp fail but you can feel it gradually returning to you. React as you will but you are not unchained yet.

Telepathic communications are to be put using a * instead of "
This will show that nobody else can hear you, except those of us inclined to break into your mind.

This is merely a reaction post just to see what sort of a person your charactor will be and also checks you all in. Once everyone has posted you will be unshackled and let loose. You can speak to each other but most of it will be internal

Opal Lance: Your post is the same as the others except you are shouted at by the sorceror. Respond seductively if you wish but it will have no effect and his rage terrifies you and you have no aid from the powers of the warp. Tell them that Varkan came and took the bald man for torturing with relation to the vision over an hour ago. Also tell them that Varkan always tortures in a certain room and that you remember the way... your memory skills coming into play.

Gabe Varickson: Varkan has taken you to his torture chambers. Use your imagination.... lol i may regret this.... he is asking you about the dream of the sorceror that appeared to you last night... it is irrelevant whether you tell him anything. Use your calculating personality to choose. In the middle the ship is blasted by a hail of lascannon shots and you realise the ship is under attack. Varkan activates his vox and you hear him saying certain confidential details in the heat of the moment
Time for you to use your memory skills

He mentions
"20 sisters of battle.... right batteries compromised... boarding torpedoes... spread forces across the lower gun decks.... major engine failure.... all personell to repel assault... inquisitors valkyrie to be prepared in the main hanger"

Varkan returns and slaps you across the face in a vicious show of temper. In all the whole torture scene is your imagination.

Ptah: Move and ensure the guardsman are subdued stab them if necessary. You feel the blankness of an untouchable and shoot him in the head and your psychic powers return to you. As Brother Dah'rak prepares to mercy shot one of the prisoners you stop him. Use your will to glean that the blast doors can only be opened from the outside... relay that information to the captain as you move to free the prisoners.


Good luck to you all and enjoy

kudos to lillian thorne for the awesome sig
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post #2 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-26-09, 10:16 PM
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Elisa began to regain consciousness. She could still feel the affects of the drugs and her body was still chained to the black ship. She could feel her powers slowly starting to return to her. In all her years, she never expected to see this happen, to be on this side. She saw the guards get killed by the Sorcerer which pleased her. Yet she wanted to be the one killing them. She now began to realize what this meant. She would be a traitor and could never be forgiven. All her work would have been for nothing. Yet it wasn't her fault, it was all Varkan doing. He force her down this path and she would make sure he would suffer. She decided to try and sent a telepathic communication to the Sorceror who seemed to be yelling at one of the other prisoners. *If you release me, I'll take you to him.*

Last edited by Necrosis; 08-26-09 at 10:22 PM.
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post #3 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-26-09, 10:18 PM
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They were all going to die. There was no hope. The Emperer hadn't saved them, His enemies hadn't saved them, they were doomed. Suddenly everything shook, she felt herself waking from the never ending dream, and then everything exploded.

"Oh... oh thank the Throne, the... err, oh sweet freedom." Opal hesitated momentarily in her blabbing as she realised what she had said but it soon faded away. Relief was replaced by repulsion as she saw the men being slain and she twisted forwards as much as the chains would let in order to retch. She had actually seen a man killed before, for not paying his debts to the cult she was part of but that was a simple shot to the head, not... not this. But another feeling existed. Never again would those disgusting, ugly men be able to use and abuse her. They all took away her last scrap of dignity and they got what they deserved.
"Where is he?"
Opal jerked at the question, realised it was directed at her and struggled for an answer as her brain kicked into gear and the shock of the assault evaporated.
"He... It, took him... the err bald man? Yes, he took him to the chamber-" just the mention of the word caused her to retch some more, "It... it was about the visions... I think... Yes the visions. It's not far from here I could show-" Opal froze at the thought of re-entering that vile place and a hopeful pleading filled her voice, "Or I could just tell you directions, yes that would be much better. . ."

"Playing Warhammer is just like making love. It's usually done on a table and afterwards you always feel great shame. Plus like most fun things the older you get the less fun it becomes. So remember, always wear a condom while playing Warhammer - I've got mine on now."

Last edited by solitaire; 08-26-09 at 10:21 PM.
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post #4 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-26-09, 10:29 PM
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Natasha shuddered, the massive blast had temporarily blinded her, as she suddenly saw the chaos sorcerer before her actually in the flesh,she swallowed hard. She knew she was about to forsake everything she held dear, cursing her own abilities again under her breath, she did feel relieved as the other chaos marine shot that horrid man.
The man that was always near the cages, a hole of nothing draining at her, tearing at her soul. She felt the presence of the warp once again returning about her, and for once felt relieved at it, having been deprived so long of her cursed gift.
She grasped the manacles holding her, concentrating a moment, then they flicked open to her psychic command, holding them as she slowly regained her footing again, she bit her lip. Even if she stayed behind, Varkan would come and kill her, or the ship would explode, she could feel it's pain through her hands even as her own training in the navy told her already, the ship was under heavy fire, and had already taken considerable damage. Repair crews would ofcourse be trying to keep the core in control, and fires from spreading, but it would be mayhem out there, between the firefighters and no doubt innumberable guardsmen and battlesisters rushing to repel boarders that she surmised had probably penetrated the hull in other locations.
The others weren't surprised at their arrival either, they probably were given the same choice, since none of them were executed on the spot but were freed by the marine, she surmised they also probably agreed.
Stumbling towards a dead guardsmen who's head had exploded and who seemed about her size, she quickly grabbed his uniform and flak armour, exchanging them for her white robe, then took up his shotgun and a pair of pistols. Finally she picked up the guardsmen's combat knife and raised it to the shoulder patch, trembling as she looked at the aquila she had always found so comfortable to wear, and slashed a cut across it, in part to convince herself she was doing this, in part to at least appear comfortable in committing heresy.
In a heavy vostroyan accent, with a slur that seemed to have been picked up from some guard regiment, she addressed the sorcerer.
'I tink I convince lock on door to open now HE dead, vatever in the damned emperor's name he is.' she nodded to the blank in disgust, shivering still at the memory of emptyness.

TKE's NTGU Brigade
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Einar is right.
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post #5 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-26-09, 11:26 PM
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Ptah could taste the excitement flowing down the mental link with his Captain. It was sharp and metallic, much like the taste of blood. Rak'an was eager to please the Primarch, and Ptah would not fail his Lord and friend in his quest.

The Black Ship hung in the void of space like a great wounded beast, vapour leaking from the rents in its metal flanks. He studied it with an impassionate eye. The beast was wounded, but not dead; it could still cause them trouble.

He focused back in on himself, reaching both inwards and out at the same time; with a twist of his mind the world fell away and the great ship hung before him like a ghost. Its hull was stained by countless deaths, glowing with anger and pain to his senses. Fear hung around the massive steel and stone bulk like clouds clinging to an uprooted mountain. Yet, there was a deeper darkness within the black holds that his eyes failed to pierce. His features distorted under the serene faceplate of his helm, twisting into a sneer of disgust at the thought of encountering a Pariah. The anti-psyker aberrant that sometimes spewed forth from the genetic pool of humanity were anthemia to everything he stood for as a noble member of the Thousand Sons legion.

He let himself fall back, tracing the glowing strands of his psy-being back to the living flesh that had clothed him for over a hundred centuries. He settled back into his body, the faint residue of warpfire flitting across the thousands of facets adorning the ancient plates and throwing off tiny broken rainbows of light.

He had only just opened his eyes again when the craft lurched and shuddered under impact with the Black Ship. Metal squealed as the torpedo chewed into the hull like a maggot into the belly of a corpse. There was a whump as the melta charges on the nose of the craft activated, vapourizing the remaining metal in a searing flash of heat and light. There was a long moment, filled with the hissing of hydraulics as the docking clamps sealed the breach, then the explosive bolts blew off and the ramp clanged down into blackness.

The harness released him from its arms like a spurned lover and he rose to his feet in a swirl of whispering white cloth. Wolfbane hung at his hip, the daemon-bound blades ripping with light. With a mental flick he brought it to his outstretched hand, the staff lengthened in his grip from under a meter in span to nearly his full height. The staff squirmed in his palm, it was hungry and he cooed to it gently while pulling his golden bolt pistol from its ornate holster with the other hand.

Brothers Dah'rak and Kel'arah sprang out of the craft and into the darkness, their weapons barking. Rak'an was close on their heels; his Lord was always one of the first through a breach. Ptah strolled silently behind the others, wary of the wardings they would soon encounter.

He swept down the ramp and into a room that stank of blood and fear. There were humans chained along the wall, he could feel their raw minds cowering in abject terror. It was a mortal response he had grown to expect over the numberless years and he ignored the whimpering forms in search of the real threat. His shimmering robes billowed in a phantom wind as he took in the entire room, the guards were being slaughtered like the cattle they were. Suddenly his mind was thrown back as he passed over a quivering man in black robes, Wolfbane howled in his mind at the touch of the psykic blank. The breast of the wretch's garments bore a stylized 'I' of the Inquisition. Ptah's lips pulled in a feral snarl.

The golden pistol spat in his grasp and the man's head exploded in a fine red mist. The blankness fled from the room with an almost audible snap and Ptah's mind was unfettered once again. He reached out to find death. A single guardsman was left alive. He touched the man's mind with a brief caress, brushing passed the feeble wards, and saw the gapping maw of Dah'rak's bolt pistol through the man's eyes. Dah'rak's finger squeezed the trigger and the pistol roared,

**NO!**

The mind shout was unfocused, piercing through ever mind present. The bolt from Dah'rak's pistol hung in midair, frozen as if projected by a holoslate. It was less than a millimeter from the guard's forehead. The man's bowls voided in terror.

Ptah spun and stalked across the room to the man, Dah'rak shied away and bowed his head in deference. The guardsman remained on his knees, quaking in his own filth, as Ptah towered over him. With a savage twist he ripped the remaining wards away in a burst of light and dug the cold talons of his mind into the man's thoughts. A line of blood appeared from the guard's nose as Ptah ruthlessly tore through his mental being. Finally, Ptah found conformation to his speculations.

He turned away with a nod, releasing his hold on the body and mind of the guard. The man blinked once before the bolt suddenly buried itself in his forehead and detonated.
He reached out a tendril of thought to Rak'an,

*It is as I feared, my Lord. The doors are bolted from the outside and the metal is laced with wards. I can break them and tear the portal asunder, but it will take precious time.*

Ptah turned towards the chained psykers and gestured with Wolfbane. The chains binding them shook as if gripped by a giant for a long moment, hot wards burning off their lengths, before shattering in a spray of gleaming shards. The prisoners were free.

Last edited by Euphrati; 08-26-09 at 11:40 PM.
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post #6 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-27-09, 12:09 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by deathbringer View Post
Gabe Varickson: Varkan has taken you to his torture chambers. Use your imagination.... lol i may regret this.... he is asking you about the dream of the sorceror that appeared to you last night... it is irrelevant whether you tell him anything. Use your calculating personality to choose. In the middle the ship is blasted by a hail of lascannon shots and you realise the ship is under attack. Varkan activates his vox and you hear him saying certain confidential details in the heat of the moment
Time for you to use your memory skills

He mentions
"20 sisters of battle.... right batteries compromised... boarding torpedoes... spread forces across the lower gun decks.... major engine failure.... all personell to repel assault... inquisitors valkyrie to be prepared in the main hanger"

Varkan returns and slaps you across the face in a vicious show of temper. In all the whole torture scene is your imagination.
Gabriel spat blood from his mouth upon the tunic of Varkan, and smiled. He watched the ire burn in his eyes. He closed his eyes, as they swiveled to and fro, his mind registering the information he had just over heard.

20 Sisters - The Stepchildren.... Right Batteries Compromised - Starboard Disabled.... Boarding Torpedoes - Welcome Wagon.... Lower Gundecks - Fire Down Below.... Major Engine Failure - Crippled Fish.... Repel Borders - Bouncers.... Inquisitors Valkyrie - Big Bird.... Main Hanger - Inquisitors Flight

He opened his eyes, all this information soaking into his mind in under a minute. He tried his limbs, the feeling returning after be stunned by the shock maul that incompacitated him. His arms were bound, but his legs were free, the clamps never engaged apparently. He stared at his would-be torturer, and listened to him drone on, while he reached out with his mind. He tuned out the words of the torturer, allowing his anger to rise.

Gabriel would find a way to abuse his lack of focus, and delve further into his mind. He needed to learn more about these things he had said. This Varkan had a few more uses yet, before Gabriel silenced him, and assume his identidy to escape from this torture pit.

Quote:
Trevor_Drake: If you invested $1,000 in Delta Airlines last year, you would have made $43. In AIG, you would have made $33. In Leihman Brothers you would have made $0. Spent that money on beer and recycled the empty cans, you would have made $214. I call it a 401-keg.
Trevor_Drake: Americans walk roughly 900 miles per year, and consume on average 22 gallons of beer a year, so the average american gets 41 miles to the gallon!

Grish: hahaha
Katie_Drake: XD
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post #7 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-27-09, 06:09 AM
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Wilhelm shook his head and opened his eyes to see the sorceror from his dreams, so he wasn't crazy. He chuckled a little at this new turn of events when the light from a fire outside his cell caught his eye, "Ah the beauty of fire..." he said to no one in particular. His wounds from the torture still hurt but he had been in that interogator's same shoes not too long ago and was trained to take the pain, it still hurt regardless. As he watched the soldiers outside burn his new hatred for the Imperium and the Emperor burned in his chest with each passing moment and he strained against his restraints, *Let me free and I will burn away all in our path* the gold speckles in his blue eyes started sparkling as the drugs began to slowly wear off, he would show the Imperium what happened to those who betrayed him. Suddenly the chains burst and he stumbled forward before catching himself, he was weak at the moment but the fire would refill his energy quickly. With each step closer to the burning bodies he could feel at least his stamina returning and saw what must be others that were showed the vision. One woman was already wearing the flak vest of a guardsmen and holding a few weapons, *impressive* he thought to himself.

He saw another prisoner, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, still in her cell weakly talking to a Thousand Son and decided to help her up. He took a fallen laspistol and made his way to her and helped her up, wrapping one of her arms around his shoulders before asking both her and the sorceror *if we are going anywhere near the Interrogation Chamber I want the Interrogator*

Here is the beginning of my fluff for my Iron Warriors Eighth Grand Company https://www.heresy-online.net/forums/...ad.php?t=51842

"A fortress is a living thing: the commander its brain, the walls its bones, the sensors its eyes and ears, the troops its blood, their weapons its fists. This tells us two things: If one organ fails, the whole dies. And if the whole dies, no single organ can survive alone."

Last edited by BlackApostleVilhelm; 08-27-09 at 06:30 AM.
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post #8 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-27-09, 12:18 PM
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Luciferus felt heavy. The drugs that had been injected into him had not yet fully left his system but it didn't matter. The Thousand Son Chaos Space Marine who had entered used his Warp Magik to break the chains that were tightly wrapped around his immense body. The Psyker stepped out of the chains around his ankles and walked towards the Astartes bowing as he did so before pulling himself to his full height and saying "Master I owe you my life do with it as you wish I shall not fail you that is a promise" he grinned slightly as the Lash wounds in his back pulled apart he bit down hard on his tounge to hide the pain. So hard that it drew blood.

Nyctophobia- Fear of the Dark Angel.

"No one ever spoke about of those two absent brothers. Their separate tragedies had seemed like aberrations. Had they, in fact, been warnings that no one had heeded?"

'Killing a man is like fucking, boy, only instead of giving life you take it. You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy's belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh draw down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this?'
'Yes, lord.'
'Is your dick hard yet?'
'No, lord.'
''What? You've got your spear in a man's guts and your dog isn't stiff? What are you, a woman?'
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post #9 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-27-09, 06:19 PM
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Tanner awoke painfully to find himself surrounded by destruction. Bodies burnt and blasted apart littered the ground and the blank was among the dead. A rare smile crossed his lips at that. He didn't smile much anymore. The effects of the drugs were wearing off and he felt the power of the Warp again. The connection was weak but it brought him comfort, and the strength was increasing with each passing moment. The ripples of the Warp pleased him, just like they did back home.

When the chains broke, Tanner dropped neatly to his feet and practised walking. Each step was painful but he was soon back to his usual strength and speed. He practised his powers on a dead soldier's leather belt. With a thought he made it shrink down in size, then with another thought made it expand to twice it's size. It was more difficult than usual but he knew that was because he was still weak. Satisfied, he bent down and took the soldier's lasgun. It was standard issue, cheaply manufactured but it had been well maintained. Relieving the soldier of his belt he fitted it around his middle and attached several spare cells along with a combat knife to it. He also took the man's boots and put them on, adjusting their size with his powers so that they were a perfect fit. The soldier's flak armour had been destroyed by bolter fire so he didn't bother with it nor the helmet as it was also badly damaged. Standing up he loaded the lasgun with a full clip and prepared for action.

A Mind Without Purpose Will Walk In Dark Places
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post #10 of 203 (permalink) Old 08-27-09, 06:21 PM
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Irafer felt drowsy under the weight of the drugs, and unceasing torture of course he couldn't tell the inquistor anything because he didn't know anything but that didn't stop irafer from lying to him he was going to die anyway he might as well make himself a nuisance.
He seen before him the figure from his dream now with his own eyes he immediately reckognised them thousand sons an army of sorcerors and automatons once the proud children of the emperor they ebelled to pursue knowledge of sorcery and the warp and now they were here, how splendid.
"The Cyclops doesn't tread lightly does he gentlemen?!" irafer cackled , the torture having done very little to help his mental state
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