Faith and Fire

Shephard · Jun 14, 2019

greendoor said:
Caelia knelt in prayer in the chapel.

She prayed for strength. Today had been a long day-and the Sister Superior had said tomorrow would be yet worse. She prayed for the strength to endure the next day, and the next, and the next. She prayed for the strength to face the Daemon-for she knew they could be far worse than the creatures she had feared upon the field. Had her ancestors been so scared as her? Had they not, often not armed nor trained so well, triumphed? She could not afford to be weak. Her blood and house demanded it of her, and so did the Emperor.

She hated herself for these doubts-they were a weakness all their own. They came from the same place as the fear, and she detested that fear. She could not afford either of them.

Somewhere else in the chapel she could hear the snap crack of a lash, and a small gasp of pain. It hardly seemed audible over the sound of prayers of other sisters, but it stood out to her. Someone undergoing penance-likely personal. She thought back to Kristold-the man had accepted his pain with admirable strength and clarity. Perhaps that would clear her mind of weakness?

Resolved, she stood up, and turned to find a private side room, and a lash. One that was hopefully not coated in a fellow sister's blood.

That task complete, she knelt, and opened the back of her robe.

"Pain is righteousness entering the body." She said, then brought the whip back across her own back.

She grit her teeth in pain, but did not cry out. That pleased her.

She swung again.

(OOC: Seek personal flagellation)

Prayer may cleanse the soul, but pain cleanses the body. So it was said by Confessor Ganinimus in his writings, and so it is you bring a freshly cleaned scoriada against your back, each leather lashes delivering a painful shock across your back. You remember the all too human faces of those grotesque mockeries of men and women you fought in the courtyard.

*Crack*

You remember the sound of a bolt deflecting off pale, naked flesh, a discordant sound that reminds you of nothing so much as nails on chalkboard.

*Crack*

A man's voice, clear and normal as all could be. The words, "You can't go outside, Davian, it's not safe out. I'll take you to the park another day.", all too normal from the sight of that peeled flesh, the white, exposed bone.

*Crack*

Your heart is pounding, the blood rushing in your ears. Your mouth dry, and you can't breathe. You can't breath, your heart ready to burst-

*Crack*

A woman's face, curled up in horror, as her head flops upon a broken neck. Her eyes are still on you, though. Shifting to follow you, pleadingly. The fractured spinal bones grind and snap and

*Crack*

Palais. Derosa. Chainswords in hand, meeting the foe.

*Crack*

The bodies of horrors burning upon the pyre. The psalms of your Sisters, ringing into the heavens.

*Crack*

The sights of your boltgun, trained over the thing charging toward you. The tension of your finger on the trigger, the resistance as you pull your finger back, and then the boltgun fires with a

*CRACK*

And you let the scorianda fall, gasping deeply of the chill air. You rest your hands on your legs, sodden with sweat, a familiar and unpleasant ache on your back. You kneel there for some moments, looking up at the statue of the God-Emperor staring down at you with his stern eyes. Faintly you can make out the pounding of rain outside, the creaking of metal piping, and the shrieking of the wind. It sounds almost like a wounded animal, but it is a comforting sound compared to the sounds those possessed wretches made.

The God-Emperor tested you this day. But for all the horror you witnessed, all the fear in your heart...You did not flee. Was it not said that knowing fear is human, but denying it divine? You didn't run away. You didn't cower. You fought. You killed them. You killed them all.

SirLagginton said:
"Goodnight Sister." Ilana echoed, feeling every second of those first few steps Eriko took down the hallway. She had suffered trials of faith unimaginable to most citizens of the Imperium, to have her faith tested repeatedly under the exacting eye of Abbot Freihart and Sister Riela, to embrace pain as her redemption from the flaws that plagued her mortal spirit. Yet, as she struggled to still her trembling hands and endured how her heart burned under the wake of unfathomable anxiety, she could not recall the last time she felt so brittle in mind.

She tilted her head as she heard the whisper of prayer as she stalked back to her quarters, the hymn of the holy drifting to her from the corridor adjacent. If she recalled correctly that was the main hall of the Sanctum Imperialis, where her fellow sisters still went to pray in His House. She shuddered, the siren call of the privacy of her quarters seeming so distant now. She switched directions, onward to the haunting sound of prayer, where she might at least confess her weakness before the judgement of the Emperor Almighty. She may endure alone in the presence of her sisters, but not Him, never Him. No matter how far she would flee, his light shined in every corner of the galaxy, and she would rather burn in that scathing light than to deny His Divine Mandate.

You come to the main hall, walking along the long nave leading to the sanctuary and altar to the Throne. Fellow Sisters are here, tucked in among the pews, or in the shadows along the pillars in the outer aisles, praying aloud to the Throne. If this part of the Cathedral was ever touched by fire or war, you would not know. The paint of the walls is untouched by dust or grime, the mosiac floor bearing not a single blemish. Lumen-torches light the architecture of the main hall, Great banners line the pillars, bearing the symbols of Dreverarch, the city of Port Baptismus, and Church and Imperium, beneath them statues of Saints and heroes (Most prominently, Sebastien Thor). Above that you see the stained glass. It is dark beyond them, the rain rattling against the glass, but they are gorgeous to look upon nonetheless.

They depict Sebastian Thor, you see, clad in the robes of an Ecclesiarch. Images of his life and times. You see him preaching at distant Dimmamar. You see the God-Emperor bringing down his hand, sweeping aside Vandire's fleets in the Storm of the Emperor's Wrath. You see rows of the Adeptus Astartes, those Angels of Death, the ranks of the highest Magi of the Adeptus Mechanicus, even towering Titans, God -Machines, kneeling before Sebastian Thor. Not in fealty, as though to a liege lord, but to receive his benediction as Terra shines in the distance. You name the Chapters: Ultramarines, Dark Angels, Imperial Fists, all of them First Founding but one. The Ironbreakers in grey and bone white. On it goes, until you see Alicia Dominca, the founder of the Adepta Sororitas, cut down Goge Vandire at the God-Emperor's command.

"We remember you, Alicia Dominica. You who received the word of our Father and cast down the apostate. You who returned us to our true path of vigilance and devotion. We remember you and honour you with our words, actions, bodies, and souls." The harsh voice of Palatine Rathitta rings out behind you. She is still clad in her warplate you see, faint scratches visible upon its carmine surface and droplets of water running down its slick surface. She gives you a single, firm nod. "Good evening, Sister Ilana Laetifica."

The older woman's eyes flick down for a moment, then she meets your gaze directly. "Your hands are trembling, Sister. But I know you didn't face the possessed like some of your squadmates. What is troubling you?"

Mina said:
Maria walked alone to the chapel, having eaten quickly. She took comfort from emptying a heaping plate, proof of a day spent in hard labor, but now was the time for her soul and judgement. The sister-superior wished to speak with her, and it was unlikely to be some quiet moment of praise. The rustle of her robes and pad of footsteps took her back through the events of the day, the good and bad.

She had stopped a heretic bomber.

She had nearly been blown up.
She faced down an ambush by heretic and abomination.
She'd killed a young woman.
She'd taken good care of the Viatorem
Eriko...

Maria sighed, entering the sanctum with none of the usual joy in her heart. It had just been better before the damn hospitaller. She didn't mind almost anything else she'd ever gotten. Being ignored by her sisters, listening to their prattle about noble houses and ancient glories, it didn't matter. There was just the mission, the faith, and the end. It had been this unflappable stoicism that recommended her as a retributor. Privation? Danger? Stress and boredom and uncertainty? She sailed through calm and cool as could be. Geldovans were made to suffer. It was in her bones, but everything about that upjumped newcomer was just skin deep. It was frankly, irritating.

She blinked, cursing herself as she knelt in prayer. Even here the annoyance blossomed. Doing everything she could to clear her mind Maria sank her head in to her clasped hands with a remembrance for Dominica, the nobility of sacrifice for the wider Imperium, and the instructive nature of silent pain.

As you enter the hall, you see Palatine Rathitta-still clad in her full suit of power armor-speaking with Ilana. You continue on down the hall, passing other Sisters praying in the pews or in the shadow of the aisles, the flickering lumen-torches giving light to the altar of the God-Emperor and the statues that line the hall. Thor (Who takes central stage), Ollanius, Dominica, and others beside. Above, though dark, you can still make out the artistry of the stained glass windows, which depict Thor's life. His early preachings, the storm of the Emperor's wrath, Adeptus Astartes and God-Engines alike kneeling to receive his blessing, Dominica cutting down Vandire.

You kneel in prayer for some time, the chants and whispers of your fellow Battle-Sisters echoing through the mostly empty hall, dancing like beautiful music in your ears. Your breathing begins to steady, some calm coming over you, when you hear the soft rustle of robes behind you. A hand gently falls upon your shoulder.

"Sister Maria?" Palais' whispers. "If I'm not intruding, may I speak to you in private?"

Zeitgeist Blue said:
Dinner, because of course even with her head pounding Eriko must see to take care of her body as well. And at the moment her body is telling her to eat.

She stands in line and soon enough carries her meal, a hearty if simple fare, on a metal tray. With Sisters from both the Mission and Cannoness Jessiera's Commandery space is at a premium. The temple was simply not tasked with housing their number, but the Sisters of the Adepta Sororitas are spartan when need be and can drop unnecessary gear. This practice does not do them much good in the face of communal dinner. The Sisters carry nothing else but their evening fare and the clothes on their backs, yet the hall is bustling with women eating and positioning for seating, which is now at a premium.

Eriko is subject to the same, and she walks around the hall, looking for a place to sit and ready to take it as a hawk its unwitting prey.

The Sanctum Imperialis played host to administrative offices, sub-chapels, room quarters and other rooms beyond the central hall of worship. It is to the refectory that you yourself head, a small dining hall that may have once been used for ceremonial meals or, perhaps, lunch by the deacons who worked here. The room was clearly never meant to staff as many Sisters as are now filling the bloodoak tables, dozens of Sisters in the red robes of the Order, some stripped down to their black bodysuits, or even a few still in their warplate standing whilst they eat.

You dish yourself up a plate of steaming grox meat stew with local vegetables, fluffy padonus rice that reminds you pleasantly of home, a warm loaf of bread and a bowl of tea. It was food that a nobleman may look down upon in its simplicity, but the hearty food looks like the grandest of feasts to you at that moment. It takes about a good minute before a Sister who'd finished eating grants you her spot, and you squeeze in along with a number of your fellow Sisters. Sisters of the Burning Rose. Sisters all too unfamiliar to you, who had served so long in the Order of Pure Water.

The Sister in front of you, a broad shouldered woman of black skin and black hair, gives you a quizzical smile as she nods at you. "Evening, Sister..." She hesitates, finger twitching. "Squad Palais, right? Your name's right at the tip of my tongue."

Another, very muscular Sister nods as she mixes her rice into her stew. You think you recall her from Derosa's squad. "She's Eriko-Right? She was with Squad Palais at that fountain."

"You helped cast out those Daemons?" The woman across from you asks. "By the Throne, surely you're blessed. I'm Sister Gwynais. Dominion Squad. What are you-?"

"She's the Hospitaller," A heavily scarred woman says, absently, her focus taken up by dipping her bread in the remnants of her stew.

Gwynais' brow furrows. "But she's wearing our robes, how can she be from the...Oh. You're the transfer, then," She pauses at that. She shakes her head, reaching for a bowl of tea. "You poor soul."

There's a clatter of dishes as a fourth Sister rests her augmetic hands on the table, the ivory skinned woman looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Our new transfer got stuck in against possessed?" She gives a small laugh, not unkind. "Leanna must be looking over you to have kept someone as inexperienced as you alive through that."

"The Saint must be guarding her," Greiland nods in between bites of stew. "She'd gotten split off from the rest of us, trying to take this fleeing apostate when two of them jumped her. I saw her go down, and I couldn't get a shot. I thought her dead for a moment, but then this civilian beats down a cultist for his heavy stubber. Lights the wretched things up, driving them back! Eriko picks herself up, cuts one of them down with her chainsword. Cleaves straight through its claws, ripping the abomination in twain."

Gwynais about spits out her tea. "A civilian had to save a Battle-Sister? In full war-plate? A civilian?" She looks at you, horror clear in her eyes. "A Sister of the Burning Rose needing to be saved by a civilian-"

The scarred woman snorts quietly. "I doubt Leanna will feel much shame over a transfer, Sister," She says, waving it off. "What about the other creature? How'd Sister Eriko handle that one?"

Greiland hesitates at that. "Uhm..." She looks at you, with something like pity in her eyes as you hear other Sisters beginning to whisper.

"As though we weren't disgraced enough at Almium Magna, now the Hospitaller is embarrassing us? By Terra, have we done something to offend the Emperor? "

"Maybe we should light some additional candles of incense in penance?"

Zeitgeist Blue · Jun 14, 2019

Shephard said:
The Sanctum Imperialis played host to administrative offices, sub-chapels, room quarters and other rooms beyond the central hall of worship. It is to the refectory that you yourself head, a small dining hall that may have once been used for ceremonial meals or, perhaps, lunch by the deacons who worked here. The room was clearly never meant to staff as many Sisters as are now filling the bloodoak tables, dozens of Sisters in the red robes of the Order, some stripped down to their black bodysuits, or even a few still in their warplate standing whilst they eat.

You dish yourself up a plate of steaming grox meat stew with local vegetables, fluffy padonus rice that reminds you pleasantly of home, a warm loaf of bread and a bowl of tea. It was food that a nobleman may look down upon in its simplicity, but the hearty food looks like the grandest of feasts to you at that moment. It takes about a good minute before a Sister who'd finished eating grants you her spot, and you squeeze in along with a number of your fellow Sisters. Sisters of the Burning Rose. Sisters all too unfamiliar to you, who had served so long in the Order of Pure Water.

The Sister in front of you, a broad shouldered woman of black skin and black hair, gives you a quizzical smile as she nods at you. "Evening, Sister..." She hesitates, finger twitching. "Squad Palais, right? Your name's right at the tip of my tongue."

Another, very muscular Sister nods as she mixes her rice into her stew. You think you recall her from Derosa's squad. "She's Eriko-Right? She was with Squad Palais at that fountain."

"You helped cast out those Daemons?" The woman across from you asks. "By the Throne, surely you're blessed. I'm Sister Gwynais. Dominion Squad. What are you-?"

"She's the Hospitaller," A heavily scarred woman says, absently, her focus taken up by dipping her bread in the remnants of her stew.

Gwynais' brow furrows. "But she's wearing our robes, how can she be from the...Oh. You're the transfer, then," She pauses at that. She shakes her head, reaching for a bowl of tea. "You poor soul."

She had found herself a seat among Sisters that whose names and faces were as of yet unfamiliar to her, and though the dish set upon her tray made her mouth water her table manners were still impeccable. She ate slowly, poise absent the weariness she felt, cutting and scooping small portions with her utensils as she sated her Sisters' curiosity. Yes, she was Sister Eriko from Squad Palais. Yes, she was at the fountain when the Daemons had come. Yes, she was a transferer from the Order of Pure Water.

"Yet I believe I am at a disadvantage," she said during one of the lulls. An eyebrow raised in polite question, she looked at each of the women around her in turn. "My name, my squad, and my previous occupation, but unfortunately none of yours save Sister Greiland. It would be my pleasure to know."

Shephard said:
There's a clatter of dishes as a fourth Sister rests her augmetic hands on the table, the ivory skinned woman looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Our new transfer got stuck in against possessed?" She gives a small laugh, not unkind. "Leanna must be looking over you to have kept someone as inexperienced as you alive through that."

"The Saint must be guarding her," Greiland nods in between bites of stew. "She'd gotten split off from the rest of us, trying to take this fleeing apostate when two of them jumped her. I saw her go down, and I couldn't get a shot. I thought her dead for a moment, but then this civilian beats down a cultist for his heavy stubber. Lights the wretched things up, driving them back! Eriko picks herself up, cuts one of them down with her chainsword. Cleaves straight through its claws, ripping the abomination in twain."

Gwynais about spits out her tea. "A civilian had to save a Battle-Sister? In full war-plate? A civilian?" She looks at you, horror clear in her eyes. "A Sister of the Burning Rose needing to be saved by a civilian-"

The scarred woman snorts quietly. "I doubt Leanna will feel much shame over a transfer, Sister," She says, waving it off. "What about the other creature? How'd Sister Eriko handle that one?"

Greiland hesitates at that. "Uhm..." She looks at you, with something like pity in her eyes as you hear other Sisters beginning to whisper.

"As though we weren't disgraced enough at Almium Magna, now the Hospitaller is embarrassing us? By Terra, have we done something to offend the Emperor? "

"Maybe we should light some additional candles of incense in penance?"

Then the dinner conversation had turned for the worse, whispering around the table, beyond the initial group she had come to know. She barely heard what they said but she needn't to, not when their stares were pointed at her.

She ground her teeth in frustration. So it had come round right back to that, always her failures thrown back at her face. She wasn't good enough as a Hospitaller and so she became a Battle-Sister and now neither was she even good enough as that if what she heard now was the truth. It would follow her, mocking her in black tones, and though she had avoided its poison something in the collective mutters made her stop to stare at it head on. Come what may.

Reckless, but she had had a long day.

Calmly, she placed her utensils down and exhaled softly, slightly pushing the half-finished meal away. She looked at the scarred woman who had asked the question.

"We were locked in struggle, neither one able to gain the upperhand, when a soldier from the force accompanying us put an end to the wretched thing. Does that answer your questions? The kill goes to the man who shot it with plasma. I care little for notches on my sword." She hesitated, eyes flickering from face to face. "Perhaps it is true that I am weak in the warrior's spirit because of that. As you imply a healer has no business as a warrior. Perhaps that is why I need be saved by mere civilians and planetary troops, and they invite glory instead."

"But I am here now, somehow, by Grace and the acceptance of our superiors. I have no pretensions about my need for assistance nor the imperfections I bear. But if any of one does, please, I hear Palatine Rathitta has been spotted near the Chapel." She pulled back her meal and raised a cup of tea, a taut smile on her lips.

"Perhaps one may light her candle then."

Mina · Jun 14, 2019

Shephard said:
Above, though dark, you can still make out the artistry of the stained glass windows, which depict Thor's life. His early preachings, the storm of the Emperor's wrath, Adeptus Astartes and God-Engines alike kneeling to receive his blessing, Dominica cutting down Vandire.

You kneel in prayer for some time, the chants and whispers of your fellow Battle-Sisters echoing through the mostly empty hall, dancing like beautiful music in your ears. Your breathing begins to steady, some calm coming over you, when you hear the soft rustle of robes behind you. A hand gently falls upon your shoulder.

"Sister Maria?" Palais' whispers. "If I'm not intruding, may I speak to you in private?"

Shivered a little, feeling those angry, angelic eyes on her from above. She didn't look up, no sense inviting more misfortune with a glimpse of those dark figures.

"You may, of course Sister Superior." She made a somber aquila before rising, a promise to return to this with proper penance after all her sins were tallied and weighed. Head bowed, the candle light flickered off her pallid skin and scarred features. The nicest compliment she'd ever gotten on looks was from her first superior, exclaiming that she looked 'alright for a cutdown marble bust someone used for stubber practice'. Why was she thinking that now? Priming herself for what came next probably.

"Your decision to divide the squad was wise. But--privacy. yes."

greendoor · Jun 19, 2019

Shephard said:
Prayer may cleanse the soul, but pain cleanses the body. So it was said by Confessor Ganinimus in his writings, and so it is you bring a freshly cleaned scoriada against your back, each leather lashes delivering a painful shock across your back. You remember the all too human faces of those grotesque mockeries of men and women you fought in the courtyard.

*Crack*

You remember the sound of a bolt deflecting off pale, naked flesh, a discordant sound that reminds you of nothing so much as nails on chalkboard.

*Crack*
A man's voice, clear and normal as all could be. The words, "You can't go outside, Davian, it's not safe out. I'll take you to the park another day.", all too normal from the sight of that peeled flesh, the white, exposed bone.
*Crack*

Your heart is pounding, the blood rushing in your ears. Your mouth dry, and you can't breathe. You can't breath, your heart ready to burst-

*Crack*

A woman's face, curled up in horror, as her head flops upon a broken neck. Her eyes are still on you, though. Shifting to follow you, pleadingly. The fractured spinal bones grind and snap and
*Crack*

Palais. Derosa. Chainswords in hand, meeting the foe.

*Crack*

The bodies of horrors burning upon the pyre. The psalms of your Sisters, ringing into the heavens.

*Crack*

The sights of your boltgun, trained over the thing charging toward you. The tension of your finger on the trigger, the resistance as you pull your finger back, and then the boltgun fires with a

*CRACK*

And you let the scorianda fall, gasping deeply of the chill air. You rest your hands on your legs, sodden with sweat, a familiar and unpleasant ache on your back. You kneel there for some moments, looking up at the statue of the God-Emperor staring down at you with his stern eyes. Faintly you can make out the pounding of rain outside, the creaking of metal piping, and the shrieking of the wind. It sounds almost like a wounded animal, but it is a comforting sound compared to the sounds those possessed wretches made.

The God-Emperor tested you this day. But for all the horror you witnessed, all the fear in your heart...You did not flee. Was it not said that knowing fear is human, but denying it divine? You didn't run away. You didn't cower. You fought. You killed them. You killed them all.

As she fixed the bandages to her bleeding back, despite the pain, Caelia felt somewhat better.

She had done her duty, and seen off the foe. She had passed the test the God Emperor had set out for her, though she knew not how narrowly. That was all that mattered-and the promise that next time would be different. She would stand taller, her hands would not shake so much.

The first time she had fought in the regular, weekly, bolter drills of the Schola, she had yelped with fright when a training round had painfully struck her in the arm and left a bruise. She had dropped her Bolter-a heavy thing for she had been so young. She had been sentenced to three days on bread and water for that-it had hurt at the time, but next time she did not drop her boltrifle, though she still lost. The third time, she had scored well for a Novice-striking one of the harsh drill abbots with a simulated headshot. Much the same had happened with hand to hand combat training-though there she knew she still had much to learn after the duel with Sister Eriko.

She had fought Daemons for the first time today, and she had not failed. That was in itself a triumph. She knew then, that next time she would fighter harder, do more ignore the fear. This she swore silently as she stepped out of the Chapel.

Next, a quite bite to eat, then rest, she promised herself. Then, tomorrow.

SirLagginton · Jun 21, 2019

Shephard said:
You come to the main hall, walking along the long nave leading to the sanctuary and altar to the Throne. Fellow Sisters are here, tucked in among the pews, or in the shadows along the pillars in the outer aisles, praying aloud to the Throne. If this part of the Cathedral was ever touched by fire or war, you would not know. The paint of the walls is untouched by dust or grime, the mosiac floor bearing not a single blemish. Lumen-torches light the architecture of the main hall, Great banners line the pillars, bearing the symbols of Dreverarch, the city of Port Baptismus, and Church and Imperium, beneath them statues of Saints and heroes (Most prominently, Sebastien Thor). Above that you see the stained glass. It is dark beyond them, the rain rattling against the glass, but they are gorgeous to look upon nonetheless.

They depict Sebastian Thor, you see, clad in the robes of an Ecclesiarch. Images of his life and times. You see him preaching at distant Dimmamar. You see the God-Emperor bringing down his hand, sweeping aside Vandire's fleets in the Storm of the Emperor's Wrath. You see rows of the Adeptus Astartes, those Angels of Death, the ranks of the highest Magi of the Adeptus Mechanicus, even towering Titans, God -Machines, kneeling before Sebastian Thor. Not in fealty, as though to a liege lord, but to receive his benediction as Terra shines in the distance. You name the Chapters: Ultramarines, Dark Angels, Imperial Fists, all of them First Founding but one. The Ironbreakers in grey and bone white. On it goes, until you see Alicia Dominca, the founder of the Adepta Sororitas, cut down Goge Vandire at the God-Emperor's command.

"We remember you, Alicia Dominica. You who received the word of our Father and cast down the apostate. You who returned us to our true path of vigilance and devotion. We remember you and honour you with our words, actions, bodies, and souls." The harsh voice of Palatine Rathitta rings out behind you. She is still clad in her warplate you see, faint scratches visible upon its carmine surface and droplets of water running down its slick surface. She gives you a single, firm nod. "Good evening, Sister Ilana Laetifica."

The older woman's eyes flick down for a moment, then she meets your gaze directly. "Your hands are trembling, Sister. But I know you didn't face the possessed like some of your squadmates. What is troubling you?"

"Palatine Rathitta!" Ilana gasped and only her awareness of the prayers of the other sisters in the hall prevented her from scrambling up to greet her superior. "I..." Distractedly, she glanced down at her hands, seeing to her shame that the Palatine spoke true. Shame and rage rode rife through her soul, that her faith would be found so brittle even after-

-e saw to her horror that the Angel's wings were clipped and defaced by sorcerous markings, the wretched etchings carving themselves deep into her brain, her very soul. His noble attendants lay broken and shattered upon their supplicant knees, blood and tar proclaiming the fate that awaited those ancient heroes. What remained of her shattered heart crumbled even further, and it was only the dull horror of what lay behind her to drive forward like a puppet on strings, her mind's eye breaking and recrystallizing into the form of that hollow helm and burning ey-

She couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe-

Choking a bit, she unsteadily leaned to the side, a hand anchoring itself to a pew as she tried to formulate words. Shame. Hatred. And most of all, a soul-deep exhaustion. She was so tired feeling like she was being hunted.

"An... Old memory Palatine." Ilana murmured at last, a tidal swirl of entwined bitterness and mourning. She shifted, clawing back some of her old composure in an effort of will. "A Nightmare even, whose spectre still haunts that little girl twice dead. I humbly beg your pardon for the interference on your time on my account."

Shephard · Jun 23, 2019

Zeitgeist Blue said:
She had found herself a seat among Sisters that whose names and faces were as of yet unfamiliar to her, and though the dish set upon her tray made her mouth water her table manners were still impeccable. She ate slowly, poise absent the weariness she felt, cutting and scooping small portions with her utensils as she sated her Sisters' curiosity. Yes, she was Sister Eriko from Squad Palais. Yes, she was at the fountain when the Daemons had come. Yes, she was a transferer from the Order of Pure Water.

"Yet I believe I am at a disadvantage," she said during one of the lulls. An eyebrow raised in polite question, she looked at each of the women around her in turn. "My name, my squad, and my previous occupation, but unfortunately none of yours save Sister Greiland. It would be my pleasure to know."

The ivory skinned woman grins at that, gold flecked eyes bright. "I'm Sister Katia Salvus. Battle-Sister under Sister-Superior Ophania's command, same as Gwynais here." She is a tall woman and lean of build, blonde hair short cut like a Guardman's, and the ivory cast of her features reminds you of Sister Palais. Though unlike your superior, her face is seemingly untouched by war. Her hands clearly were however, each a sleek and gleaming work of brass with backs etched with the fleur-de-lys.

"Not quite. I'm a Dominion you know," Gwynais mutters, still glaring daggers at you with her cool green eyes. She is in many ways the opposite of her companion. Her skin is near dark as the void itself, her black hair in a traditional bob cut. Where Katia is lean she is broad, though as she drinks quickly from a cup of tea to contain her anger she does not look terribly imposing.

"Best one in this Mission I'd have you know," Katia slaps her affectionately on the shoulder, her hand clicking and whining at the movement.

Gwynais cheers slightly at that. "You flatterer,"

Katia smirks. "I believe you've met our superior. Real strong, silent type. The chatter the rest of us make more than makes up for her though!"

The last woman shrugs her shoulders, taking a bite of her stew soaked bread. Her heavily muscled frame is scarred in numerous places-Some old and nearly faded, others comparatively recent, and you see evidence of a fading tan suggesting an unusual amount of time outside of armor. To your medicae trained eyes, you see some evidence of scar removal and flesh regeneration techniques, including several fingers off her left hand that you suspect were cloned replacements. Her nails, curiously, are painted scarlet-a very unusual practice among the Orders-Militant, though popular on Velorum-the same shade as her bowl cut.

"Sister Macharius, with Retributor-Squad Morane," She says. "A pleasure."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
Then the dinner conversation had turned for the worse, whispering around the table, beyond the initial group she had come to know. She barely heard what they said but she needn't to, not when their stares were pointed at her.

She ground her teeth in frustration. So it had come round right back to that, always her failures thrown back at her face. She wasn't good enough as a Hospitaller and so she became a Battle-Sister and now neither was she even good enough as that if what she heard now was the truth. It would follow her, mocking her in black tones, and though she had avoided its poison something in the collective mutters made her stop to stare at it head on. Come what may.

Reckless, but she had had a long day.

Calmly, she placed her utensils down and exhaled softly, slightly pushing the half-finished meal away. She looked at the scarred woman who had asked the question.

"We were locked in struggle, neither one able to gain the upperhand, when a soldier from the force accompanying us put an end to the wretched thing. Does that answer your questions? The kill goes to the man who shot it with plasma. I care little for notches on my sword." She hesitated, eyes flickering from face to face. "Perhaps it is true that I am weak in the warrior's spirit because of that. As you imply a healer has no business as a warrior. Perhaps that is why I need be saved by mere civilians and planetary troops, and they invite glory instead."

"But I am here now, somehow, by Grace and the acceptance of our superiors. I have no pretensions about my need for assistance nor the imperfections I bear. But if any of one does, please, I hear Palatine Rathitta has been spotted near the Chapel." She pulled back her meal and raised a cup of tea, a taut smile on her lips.

"Perhaps one may light her candle then."

Katia's smile fades as you speak, her hand tightening on Gwynais' shoulder as you speak.

Gwynais leans forward, teeth gritted. "Truly? That's what you have to say for yourself? 'I got accepted into this Order' is your ex-"

"Gwyn. Take a breath and drink some tea," Katia whispers. "She messed up, but let's not strangle her, alright?"

Gwynais glowers, and seems ready to speak up when Macharius raises her hand. She turns toward you, a lumen-tat of the fleur-de-lys flickering on her left cheek, cold blue eyes like the depths of the deeps meeting your gaze. She rests her chin in her hand, a sly smile crossing her lips.

"Oh, you are rich. Of all the things I expected from a Hospitaller coming in, acting all prideful of your failings wasn't it. Calling it notches on a chainsword? Hilarious." She shakes her head, seemingly amused. "It's about the honor of the Mission and the Order. We are the Emperor's Daughters, the defenders of His Imperium. For a Sister in warplate to fail to defend the Imperium's citizens, for a Daughter of the Emperor to need to be saved by a commoner is a dishonor not just to her, but to the Order. To Leanna, who suffered on the behalf of those commoners. That you don't realize this means you are no Sister of the Rose."

"She wears our colors into battle, Sister," Katia says.

"Which is the problem-" Gwynais growls, before taking a breath and sipping at her tea.

"Warplate does not make one a Battle-Sister." Macharius waves a dismissive hand, turning back to her dish. "We all got here by the Emperor's grace and the acceptance of our superiors. Even the most disgraced Repentia was once. But unlike you, Eriko-We were trained specifically for this. We all had to earn our place. You haven't," She pauses for a moment, taking a final bite from her plate before rising up. "If you would excuse me a moment. I feel the need for seconds."

As she leaves, the other Sisters look at you. Gwynais seems to have emptied her bowl of tea calming herself. Greiland scratches the back of her neck. Katia shrugs and takes a seat, beginning to pour her rice into her stew and mix them together.

"Mistakes were made, but they don't need to last forever. I'd suggest lighting that candle yourself, Sister," Katia says, nodding her head at you. "It'd show some understanding and contrition. Hey, would you pass the pepper, Gwyn?"

Gwynais nods, handing over the pepper. "Of course," She says, turning her attention back toward you. "If you won't, I'd be happy to do so. I'm thinking I'll take up your advice and speak with the Palatine. And-" She pauses, bringing her bowl to her lips and finding it empty. "...I'm out already? Wow, that bowl didn't last long."

Greiland gives a quiet snort, though any amusement quickly fades. "Apologies, Sister Eriko. I shouldn't have shared the story," She sighs.

[Charm test critical fail]

Mina said:
Shivered a little, feeling those angry, angelic eyes on her from above. She didn't look up, no sense inviting more misfortune with a glimpse of those dark figures.

"You may, of course Sister Superior." She made a somber aquila before rising, a promise to return to this with proper penance after all her sins were tallied and weighed. Head bowed, the candle light flickered off her pallid skin and scarred features. The nicest compliment she'd ever gotten on looks was from her first superior, exclaiming that she looked 'alright for a cutdown marble bust someone used for stubber practice'. Why was she thinking that now? Priming herself for what came next probably.

"Your decision to divide the squad was wise. But--privacy. yes."

"There's a private booth around the corner," Palais says, leading you to a small enclosed space you expect may have been used for private confession or ceremony, but it is difficult to tell. The room has clearly not been a priority for repairs. The careful designs and symbology that were once painted upon the walls are mostly gone, scorched away to blackened rockcrete, and ornamental wall mounts are largely disintegrated, only warped metal and nail marks an indication of where they once stood.. The smell of burned wood still lingers, and something else-mildew perhaps.

Palais motions you toward the only remaining seat, whilst she leans against the wall. She folds her arms across her chest.

"It was wise, yes. And I hate that it was a wise choice. Even given the circumstances, do you know how much it goes against doctrine to split a squad like that?" She asks, shaking her head. "Maria, I know that Eriko isn't the easiest person to get along with. I know she didn't come to the Order by typical means. The God-Emperor knows I've wanted to strangle her once or twice today!" She takes a breath. "But this sort of anger between members of my squad is toxic. I can't keep splitting up our squad because you two are at each other's throats. They might as well dissolve this squad."

"More than that, we're Sisters in Leanna and the Emperor. We hail from across the breadth of Araxes, from Deathworlders to Voidborn to everything in between. We come from different families, different cultures. But we share our love for the Emperor and Saint Leanna, and we must share a love of this Sisterhood and each other. We have to trust each other as Sisters if we are to be effective warriors," She sighs, running a hand over her burn-kissed face. "I've already spoken with Eriko, and I expect I'll speak with her more. I know it's difficult, but I need to ask you to forgive Eriko, or at least accept her. I need you two to be able to work as a team,"

She looks at you. "Do you understand, Maria?"

SirLagginton said:
"Palatine Rathitta!" Ilana gasped and only her awareness of the prayers of the other sisters in the hall prevented her from scrambling up to greet her superior. "I..." Distractedly, she glanced down at her hands, seeing to her shame that the Palatine spoke true. Shame and rage rode rife through her soul, that her faith would be found so brittle even after-

-e saw to her horror that the Angel's wings were clipped and defaced by sorcerous markings, the wretched etchings carving themselves deep into her brain, her very soul. His noble attendants lay broken and shattered upon their supplicant knees, blood and tar proclaiming the fate that awaited those ancient heroes. What remained of her shattered heart crumbled even further, and it was only the dull horror of what lay behind her to drive forward like a puppet on strings, her mind's eye breaking and recrystallizing into the form of that hollow helm and burning ey-

She couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe-

Choking a bit, she unsteadily leaned to the side, a hand anchoring itself to a pew as she tried to formulate words. Shame. Hatred. And most of all, a soul-deep exhaustion. She was so tired feeling like she was being hunted.

"An... Old memory Palatine." Ilana murmured at last, a tidal swirl of entwined bitterness and mourning. She shifted, clawing back some of her old composure in an effort of will. "A Nightmare even, whose spectre still haunts that little girl twice dead. I humbly beg your pardon for the interference on your time on my account."

The Palatine's eyes meet your gaze coldly, her jaw set as her scrutinizing look scours your face, leaving nothing untouched.

"You are having unpleasant flashbacks, likely to the time you were orphaned. Very unpleasant, given you just about fell over there," She says, blunt as a mace to the face. "Please, leave the poetry for holy books and speeches, Sister. I am too tired for euphemisms at this hour. Ill memories follow many of the Sisterhood, and many more who go through the Schola. It is why some Schola practice the use of mindscaping, to remove traumatising memories," She says. This close you can hear the low growl of her armor's reactor, the whistle of pistons and whine of joints. "I chose to speak with you, Sister Ilana. To apologize is to suggest fault. Unless you wish to imply I was mistaken to speak with you, I see nothing worth pardoning you over."

There is the clack of ceramite against ceramite as she rests a hand on her hip. "I am the commander of this Mission, and the lives and livelihoods of its Sisters are my concern. You look fit to collapse-almost did. I'm willing to attribute some of that to exhaustion, but it is my duty to know if you'll be alright regardless." She shifts slightly, reaching out a hand. "Did this...'nightmare' come up after defeating the psyker you faced on the highway? Do you need any help, Sister?"

greendoor said:
As she fixed the bandages to her bleeding back, despite the pain, Caelia felt somewhat better.

She had done her duty, and seen off the foe. She had passed the test the God Emperor had set out for her, though she knew not how narrowly. That was all that mattered-and the promise that next time would be different. She would stand taller, her hands would not shake so much.

The first time she had fought in the regular, weekly, bolter drills of the Schola, she had yelped with fright when a training round had painfully struck her in the arm and left a bruise. She had dropped her Bolter-a heavy thing for she had been so young. She had been sentenced to three days on bread and water for that-it had hurt at the time, but next time she did not drop her boltrifle, though she still lost. The third time, she had scored well for a Novice-striking one of the harsh drill abbots with a simulated headshot. Much the same had happened with hand to hand combat training-though there she knew she still had much to learn after the duel with Sister Eriko.

She had fought Daemons for the first time today, and she had not failed. That was in itself a triumph. She knew then, that next time she would fighter harder, do more ignore the fear. This she swore silently as she stepped out of the Chapel.

Next, a quite bite to eat, then rest, she promised herself. Then, tomorrow.

OOC: Your back isn't bleeding. Welts and bruises. There's different forms of scourging.

IC: You trudge through the corridors of the temple, passing by Battle-Sisters on patrol, old administrative offices and abandoned construction equipment. Eventually you follow the sweet, sweet smell of food to a refectory. It may have once been used for ceremonial meals, or perhaps luncheon by the bureaucratic deacons that managed the Church's affairs, but now has been turned over to your Order. The room was clearly never meant to staff as many Sisters as are now filling the bloodoak tables, dozens of Sisters in the red robes of the Order, some stripped down to their black bodysuits, or even a few still in their warplate standing whilst they eat. There are spots open, blessedly, as it seems Sisters are beginning to leave from their meals, and it doesn't take you long at all to help yourself to the food being served.

A thick and richly spiced grox stew mixed with local vegetables calls your attention, as does fluffy padonus rice with a healthy helping of butter, salt and pepper to go with it. Warm bread rolls are sat inside a covered basket, and your choice of bowls of tea, recaf or a light evening amasec. It was hardly food worthy of the grand feasts of the nobility of home, but it was a hearty meal that calls to you after the long day you've had.

As you're serving yourself, another Sister steps in beside you. A heavily muscled woman with a fading tan and myriad scars, she purses her lips as the two of you make eye contact.

"Good evening, Sister..." She pauses, hand on her skin. You-to your surprise-see a red painted nail tapping at her cheek beneath her fleur-de-lys tattoo. You've rarely seen such among the Sisters-Militant, though it was popular among men and women back home. "...Caelia, I believe? Squad Palais, if I am not mistaken. I just met one of your squadmates, the Ex-Hospitaller. A...Very funny woman."

She turns back, dishing herself herself up a healthy helping of the steaming stew. "Sister Macharius, Squad Morane. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." A Retributor Squad, you recall as she puts several rolls on her plate. "I'd recommend dipping the bread in the stew. The tastes complement each other quite well."

Mina · Jun 23, 2019

Shephard said:
"More than that, we're Sisters in Leanna and the Emperor. We hail from across the breadth of Araxes, from Deathworlders to Voidborn to everything in between. We come from different families, different cultures. But we share our love for the Emperor and Saint Leanna, and we must share a love of this Sisterhood and each other. We have to trust each other as Sisters if we are to be effective warriors," She sighs, running a hand over her burn-kissed face. "I've already spoken with Eriko, and I expect I'll speak with her more. I know it's difficult, but I need to ask you to forgive Eriko, or at least accept her. I need you two to be able to work as a team,"

She looks at you. "Do you understand, Maria?"

She sat quietly, trying to analyze the smell. Was it just mildew, or a proper mold? It wasn't that she didn't listen or internalize every word Palais spoke, far from it. They cut far, far too deep for her to even think of being wholly present in the moment. It was...humiliating.

"Do you have any particular concerns about my behavior or performance in the field Sister-Superior? I have done my best to ignore our new sister's arrogance, but she seems to delight in pretending she is you to me."

Maria kept her eyes downcast, directing the pink blaze at a blackish patch of stone. She could taste her teeth with every word.

"I have forgiven her time and time again. Every condescension. Every ill advised order. Every snide barb sent my way. I have tried to respond with piety and humility, but it has persisted. It is my shame that I did not approach you about this. It is our shame that she...she...she does not want to fit in. She makes no effort to. She tries to rise above but to do so...I have not been treated this way even when I was a novitiate."

Her throat felt tight, hoarse. Was she still talking? To Palais? This way?

"It would be hard to be at her throat when she is ceaselessly on my back. I love the Emperor. I love his children. I love my sisters, and I love and forgive Eriko as I would any in the flock. I will continue to forgive her, but I cannot accept her as she is. I cannot love her as I do you, or Caelia, or Illana. It would cheapen that love. It would be false. You are my sisters, beyond...beyond what our sisterhood might call it. I understand your position Sister-Superior, I truly do, but I can only do so much."

"I swear I will never bring dishonor upon the squad, the mission, our Sisterhood, and would sooner die than be the reason our squad was dissolved. I do not think I have anything more to say."

She wouldn't cry. She was strong. She was stone. Stone didn't cry. Quickly she brushed a thumb against the corner of her eye.

Damn it.

Zeitgeist Blue · Jun 24, 2019

Shephard said:
Katia's smile fades as you speak, her hand tightening on Gwynais' shoulder as you speak.

Gwynais leans forward, teeth gritted. "Truly? That's what you have to say for yourself? 'I got accepted into this Order' is your ex-"

"Gwyn. Take a breath and drink some tea," Katia whispers. "She messed up, but let's not strangle her, alright?"

Gwynais glowers, and seems ready to speak up when Macharius raises her hand. She turns toward you, a lumen-tat of the fleur-de-lys flickering on her left cheek, cold blue eyes like the depths of the deeps meeting your gaze. She rests her chin in her hand, a sly smile crossing her lips.

"Oh, you are rich. Of all the things I expected from a Hospitaller coming in, acting all prideful of your failings wasn't it. Calling it notches on a chainsword? Hilarious." She shakes her head, seemingly amused. "It's about the honor of the Mission and the Order. We are the Emperor's Daughters, the defenders of His Imperium. For a Sister in warplate to fail to defend the Imperium's citizens, for a Daughter of the Emperor to need to be saved by a commoner is a dishonor not just to her, but to the Order. To Leanna, who suffered on the behalf of those commoners. That you don't realize this means you are no Sister of the Rose."

"She wears our colors into battle, Sister," Katia says.

"Which is the problem-" Gwynais growls, before taking a breath and sipping at her tea.

"Warplate does not make one a Battle-Sister." Macharius waves a dismissive hand, turning back to her dish. "We all got here by the Emperor's grace and the acceptance of our superiors. Even the most disgraced Repentia was once. But unlike you, Eriko-We were trained specifically for this. We all had to earn our place. You haven't," She pauses for a moment, taking a final bite from her plate before rising up. "If you would excuse me a moment. I feel the need for seconds."

As she leaves, the other Sisters look at you. Gwynais seems to have emptied her bowl of tea calming herself. Greiland scratches the back of her neck. Katia shrugs and takes a seat, beginning to pour her rice into her stew and mix them together.

"Mistakes were made, but they don't need to last forever. I'd suggest lighting that candle yourself, Sister," Katia says, nodding her head at you. "It'd show some understanding and contrition. Hey, would you pass the pepper, Gwyn?"

Gwynais nods, handing over the pepper. "Of course," She says, turning her attention back toward you. "If you won't, I'd be happy to do so. I'm thinking I'll take up your advice and speak with the Palatine. And-" She pauses, bringing her bowl to her lips and finding it empty. "...I'm out already? Wow, that bowl didn't last long."

Greiland gives a quiet snort, though any amusement quickly fades. "Apologies, Sister Eriko. I shouldn't have shared the story," She sighs.

[Charm test critical fail]

"No, please there is little need to," Eriko says, the fingers around her cup tightening as she stared at the spot where Sister Macharius had disappeared among the crowd. "Perhaps instead I should thank you. Better to face such accusations head-on than to find them cutting behind your back for the longest of times, though I fear that would happen soon enough."

She looks down into her cup then, the cacophony of the dining hall fades. Chairs scrape. Utensils clink. Bodies jostle. But all that fades for the tea of her cup, the bitter taste on her tongue. The liquid ripples in response to the world outside the cup but still it retains its shape. Neither should she be so rigid as to ripple when tapped. She held back a grimace for she knew it would be a bruise to her ego, but she had been dealt many bruises before.

"And my apologies." Eriko starts, raising her eyes to meet the remaining Sisters on the table. "For needlessly antagonizing Sister Macharius and fouling the mood, when you had received me warmly. That was unbecoming of me. In the heat of the moment, I was not entirely sincere and so I shall light two candles for my failings."

She places her cup down and bows sitting down, low enough to hide the grimace on her face. She had her pride, her name and dignity. And she would have challenged Sister Macharius to answer for the slurs thrown, but the Mission did not allow such duels to take place and even if it did, there were a long line of offenders before Macharius. Perhaps she would have died long ago, and that would have been a better state of affairs than this never-ending parade.

Death. The great equalizer. It knows neither civilian or soldier, commoner or noble for those who face death bravely do so with arms interlocked. She envied all of them.

"I apologize for the melancholic mood." She raises her head and sculpts a smile onto her lips, inviting the attention towards the others. "All seem to know of my transfer from the Order of Pure Water, but I have yet to hear of your lives before this Mission was raised."

greendoor · Jun 28, 2019

Shephard said:
"Good evening, Sister..." She pauses, hand on her skin. You-to your surprise-see a red painted nail tapping at her cheek beneath her fleur-de-lys tattoo. You've rarely seen such among the Sisters-Militant, though it was popular among men and women back home. "...Caelia, I believe? Squad Palais, if I am not mistaken. I just met one of your squadmates, the Ex-Hospitaller. A...Very funny woman."

"Sister Caelia Valeriania, Squad Palais." Caelia confirms, nodding. She hoped it was did not come out terse or aggravated. She tapered down on a frown at Eriko's mention, trying to think of how to speak tactfully...

"Sister Eriko is...certainly a very unorthodox Sister." She considers, and allows herself to speak a little more clearly. Eriko's own reputation was hers to protect. "A good Sister at Arms and excellent medicae, but...arrogant. I hope she has not insulted you in some way, Sister?"

Shephard said:
She turns back, dishing herself herself up a healthy helping of the steaming stew. "Sister Macharius, Squad Morane. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." A Retributor Squad, you recall as she puts several rolls on her plate. "I'd recommend dipping the bread in the stew. The tastes complement each other quite well."

"A pleasure." Caelia repeats back at her, turning back to get her own food. "Excellent tactical suggestion sister-I will vanquish this stew all the faster." she says lightly at the suggestion, piling a few rolls on her own plate.

At a time like this, the food smelled like the finest in all the Imperium, fit for the tables at the Emperor's side. She knew back home nobles ate richer fare, exotic meats and plant matter imported from death and agriworlds the sector and beyond over, drowned by rivers of centuries aged alcohol. She had dim memories of such feasts and luxury, but she had spent almost half her life in the Schola, where the food wasn't even this good much of the time (At least they'd gotten feasts on Sanguinala and Emperor's Ascension). Thus, she could not bring herself to think of a single complaint for the simple stew and bread rolls on her plate.

Food in hand, and a small glass of amasec balanced in the other, she felt slightly less exhausted, and followed Macharius back to a seat. She supposed she could indulge in some small talk. "I hope i'm not mistaken in asking if you are from Velorum? It'd be good to have another of the homeworld's blood in the mission." She coughed slightly. "Err, no slight intended if you are not. We are all sisters here, and you and your squad likely more veteran than me and mine."

She digs into her food, hoping to avoid the possible awkward moment if she turned out to be wrong.

SirLagginton · Jun 30, 2019

Shephard said:
The Palatine's eyes meet your gaze coldly, her jaw set as her scrutinizing look scours your face, leaving nothing untouched.

"You are having unpleasant flashbacks, likely to the time you were orphaned. Very unpleasant, given you just about fell over there," She says, blunt as a mace to the face. "Please, leave the poetry for holy books and speeches, Sister. I am too tired for euphemisms at this hour. Ill memories follow many of the Sisterhood, and many more who go through the Schola. It is why some Schola practice the use of mindscaping, to remove traumatising memories," She says. This close you can hear the low growl of her armor's reactor, the whistle of pistons and whine of joints. "I chose to speak with you, Sister Ilana. To apologize is to suggest fault. Unless you wish to imply I was mistaken to speak with you, I see nothing worth pardoning you over."

There is the clack of ceramite against ceramite as she rests a hand on her hip. "I am the commander of this Mission, and the lives and livelihoods of its Sisters are my concern. You look fit to collapse-almost did. I'm willing to attribute some of that to exhaustion, but it is my duty to know if you'll be alright regardless." She shifts slightly, reaching out a hand. "Did this...'nightmare' come up after defeating the psyker you faced on the highway? Do you need any help, Sister?"

"N-no, I-" Embarassed, Ilana winced as if burned as she stood up a little stiffer, wringing her mind on how to reply to the Palatine. Finally, she sighed, "Forgive me Palatine, the use of metaphor and euphemism had become a habit of mine. After my ordeal, to speak in such terms helped me contextualize what I had suffered. To help me come to terms with it. However, as you can see, the issue is still... chronic."

She rubbed her face, trying to calm herself in the face of those hardened, judging eyes, even though she knew that the Palatine hardly meant anything malicious. The weight of authority gazing down upon her pressed insistently on her head, making a struggle to meet the Palatine's gaze without shame nor fear, however unworthy she knew those thoughts to be. Those old fears surged briefly in her chest before she corralled them once more. She was a Daughter of the Emperor, chosen of the Emperor as a defender of the faith. She could hold herself against this spiral of collapse, she could do that much in light of providence.

"...I saw an apparition on the highway, as soon as the psyker's unholy touch attempted to taint mine spirit." Ilana continued, resisting that same urge, to curl fingers into fists and shake in rage and fear. She didn't know how much of her state leaked through her posture, but she was thankful at least that her voice came out level. "No, I speak true, but not with the full context. In the psyker's attempts to intimidate me he dredged up an old memory, in that time when I feared that Savine's Hope would face its last Night, when the Fallen butchered friends, family, and flock. That apparition has lingered in my mind's eye ever since, to the point where I have been driven to the Emperor's abode." She bowed her head. "That I have allowed this spectre to hold such sway over me is an inexcusable lapse, and I seek the God-Emperor's guidance to overcome my flaws."

She wondered if the Palatine could see it even now, that doubt writhing like maggots within her breast, chewing through sense of self to leave nothing behind but the rags of desperation. Desperation that the Emperor would in time provide, that her secret suspicion that she was too broken to truly heal was utterly, mercifully, wrong. She was so tired, so tired of living in fear of a shadow she knew not to exist but felt the certainty of her instincts when she was surrounded by that horrendous silence, unable to tell whether it stalked her still save the lengthening shadows.

Ilana feared it still, and in time that fear would bleed her dry.

Shephard · Jul 2, 2019

Mina said:
She sat quietly, trying to analyze the smell. Was it just mildew, or a proper mold? It wasn't that she didn't listen or internalize every word Palais spoke, far from it. They cut far, far too deep for her to even think of being wholly present in the moment. It was...humiliating.

"Do you have any particular concerns about my behavior or performance in the field Sister-Superior? I have done my best to ignore our new sister's arrogance, but she seems to delight in pretending she is you to me."

Maria kept her eyes downcast, directing the pink blaze at a blackish patch of stone. She could taste her teeth with every word.

"I have forgiven her time and time again. Every condescension. Every ill advised order. Every snide barb sent my way. I have tried to respond with piety and humility, but it has persisted. It is my shame that I did not approach you about this. It is our shame that she...she...she does not want to fit in. She makes no effort to. She tries to rise above but to do so...I have not been treated this way even when I was a novitiate."

Her throat felt tight, hoarse. Was she still talking? To Palais? This way?

"It would be hard to be at her throat when she is ceaselessly on my back. I love the Emperor. I love his children. I love my sisters, and I love and forgive Eriko as I would any in the flock. I will continue to forgive her, but I cannot accept her as she is. I cannot love her as I do you, or Caelia, or Illana. It would cheapen that love. It would be false. You are my sisters, beyond...beyond what our sisterhood might call it. I understand your position Sister-Superior, I truly do, but I can only do so much."

"I swear I will never bring dishonor upon the squad, the mission, our Sisterhood, and would sooner die than be the reason our squad was dissolved. I do not think I have anything more to say."

She wouldn't cry. She was strong. She was stone. Stone didn't cry. Quickly she brushed a thumb against the corner of her eye.

Damn it.

Palais runs a hand across her face, her quiet sigh like the boom of an earthshaker in the small space. The only sound for some moments is the heavy pounding of the rain outside, and the howling of the wind.

"Sister, Maria. I can understand your frustration, but it hasn't been that long she's been with us, and I am not asking you to accept her as she is. Eriko has made mistakes, and she'll be chastised for them. Further disrespect won't be tolerated. You have my oath on that, Sister," She says, taking in a breath. She leans back against the wall. "And that is why I'm asking to forgive her. Eriko just needs a chance to learn, to adjust. She used to be an officer in the Order of Pure Water. She's used to obedience. She..."

Palais grimaces. "She survived when no one else did. She was Carilus Prime, on the Frontier. It was an ambush for our comrades-our brothers in the Ironbreakers Chapter, set by the traitorous dogs of Xethos."

You know of the false (And dead) Messiah, a foreign Astartes who aligned himself to the Malefactor Houses and brought war upon the Sector. You know of his Disciples, Traitor Marines and mortal legions who worshipped him. You know of how the Ironbreakers slew him, and know how furious the hatred of his disciples for them must be. [Bare Lore Failure]

"I don't know all the details. But I know she was a sole survivor, and she spent months in a forsaken warzone surviving by herself, everyone she used to rely on dead. Some of our superiors think Leanna must have saved her for a reason-But all I know is that she's having trouble adjusting to being in a chain of command again, to relying on others again. She lost everyone she cared about. It's no surprise she's cold toward others. But believe me, the excuse has run its course."

"Honestly, I commend you on holding your tongue, Sister. And I'm not here to punish you-believe me, Eriko's getting all of that. But I've got an eye for fires, and I could see the fire burning within you," She smiles sadly at that. "I feared-Truly feared-that if I left you two together, it may come to blows. And I shouldn't need to. All I'm asking is that you give her some more to adjust." She leans her head back, closing her eyes. Then they open at you, twinkling with amusement. "And if she continues to be a stubborn pain in my arse, that you restrain me from strangling her. If you'll pardon my Clanner."

SirLagginton said:
"N-no, I-" Embarassed, Ilana winced as if burned as she stood up a little stiffer, wringing her mind on how to reply to the Palatine. Finally, she sighed, "Forgive me Palatine, the use of metaphor and euphemism had become a habit of mine. After my ordeal, to speak in such terms helped me contextualize what I had suffered. To help me come to terms with it. However, as you can see, the issue is still... chronic."

She rubbed her face, trying to calm herself in the face of those hardened, judging eyes, even though she knew that the Palatine hardly meant anything malicious. The weight of authority gazing down upon her pressed insistently on her head, making a struggle to meet the Palatine's gaze without shame nor fear, however unworthy she knew those thoughts to be. Those old fears surged briefly in her chest before she corralled them once more. She was a Daughter of the Emperor, chosen of the Emperor as a defender of the faith. She could hold herself against this spiral of collapse, she could do that much in light of providence.

"...I saw an apparition on the highway, as soon as the psyker's unholy touch attempted to taint mine spirit." Ilana continued, resisting that same urge, to curl fingers into fists and shake in rage and fear. She didn't know how much of her state leaked through her posture, but she was thankful at least that her voice came out level. "No, I speak true, but not with the full context. In the psyker's attempts to intimidate me he dredged up an old memory, in that time when I feared that Savine's Hope would face its last Night, when the Fallen butchered friends, family, and flock. That apparition has lingered in my mind's eye ever since, to the point where I have been driven to the Emperor's abode." She bowed her head. "That I have allowed this spectre to hold such sway over me is an inexcusable lapse, and I seek the God-Emperor's guidance to overcome my flaws."

She wondered if the Palatine could see it even now, that doubt writhing like maggots within her breast, chewing through sense of self to leave nothing behind but the rags of desperation. Desperation that the Emperor would in time provide, that her secret suspicion that she was too broken to truly heal was utterly, mercifully, wrong. She was so tired, so tired of living in fear of a shadow she knew not to exist but felt the certainty of her instincts when she was surrounded by that horrendous silence, unable to tell whether it stalked her still save the lengthening shadows.

Ilana feared it still, and in time that fear would bleed her dry.

"Quite," The woman says, eyes hard. She listens to your story in silence, motioning to you to continue at points but saying nothing. Then, she shakes her head. "It is a classic ploy of the Archenemy and others who call upon the dread powers of the Warp. They awaken old pains and old fears, seeking weakness in the hearts of otherwise staunch Imperials."

"Often, they succeed," She says, eyes staring cooly down at you. "Leanna knew pain, Sister, as none of us ever will. The Nightmare Given Form tortured her, before the end. Not just her flesh, but it roused her greatest fears and oldest failings against her and made her relive it a thousand times. It demanded she deny her faith, demanded she give in. She did not." She regards you, pursing her lips. "A weaker woman would not be here seeking solace. A weaker woman would have fired upon her Sisters, seeing nightmares. A weaker woman would have curled up into a ball, broken by memories. A weaker woman would have put her boltgun to her head and pulled the trigger or forced her Sisters to do it for her. Clearly, you are still here. There is nothing flawed in your pain: You are not lost, Sister. Leanna taught us that pain is not weakness. Weakness is letting pain rule you. Strength is in overcoming it."

"Go and pray to the God-Emperor, Sister. Speak with your Sisters. Do whatever you need to overcome your trial, and let your pain become the strength needed to follow in Leanna's footsteps. Do not allow it to rule you, for only then will you truly have...Inexcusably lapsed."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"No, please there is little need to," Eriko says, the fingers around her cup tightening as she stared at the spot where Sister Macharius had disappeared among the crowd. "Perhaps instead I should thank you. Better to face such accusations head-on than to find them cutting behind your back for the longest of times, though I fear that would happen soon enough."

She looks down into her cup then, the cacophony of the dining hall fades. Chairs scrape. Utensils clink. Bodies jostle. But all that fades for the tea of her cup, the bitter taste on her tongue. The liquid ripples in response to the world outside the cup but still it retains its shape. Neither should she be so rigid as to ripple when tapped. She held back a grimace for she knew it would be a bruise to her ego, but she had been dealt many bruises before.

"And my apologies." Eriko starts, raising her eyes to meet the remaining Sisters on the table. "For needlessly antagonizing Sister Macharius and fouling the mood, when you had received me warmly. That was unbecoming of me. In the heat of the moment, I was not entirely sincere and so I shall light two candles for my failings."

She places her cup down and bows sitting down, low enough to hide the grimace on her face. She had her pride, her name and dignity. And she would have challenged Sister Macharius to answer for the slurs thrown, but the Mission did not allow such duels to take place and even if it did, there were a long line of offenders before Macharius. Perhaps she would have died long ago, and that would have been a better state of affairs than this never-ending parade.

Death. The great equalizer. It knows neither civilian or soldier, commoner or noble for those who face death bravely do so with arms interlocked. She envied all of them.

"I apologize for the melancholic mood." She raises her head and sculpts a smile onto her lips, inviting the attention towards the others. "All seem to know of my transfer from the Order of Pure Water, but I have yet to hear of your lives before this Mission was raised."

Sister Greiland flushes a bit at that. "I suppose you're welcome, though I'm not sure I'd put it that way..."

Katia nods her head, swallowing down a bite of rice. "We're the Sisters of Battle. We're not much for gossiping behind peoples' backs. We tend to be much more confrontational about that," Katia notes. "Unless you count making fun of civilians while sitting around on garrison duty to pass the time, I suppose." She shrugs, playfull.

Gwynais frowns. "Gossipmongering? Maybe when we were still schola brats and hadn't yet grown out of it. Unless we've got some Sisters Famulous running around I haven't seen. Gossiping is literally part of their job," She says, giving a little shrug. Then, she jabs a finger at you. "You didn't antagonize her. Macharius doesn't care, even though she should. You should be lighting a candle for your disrespect, not..." She rolls her jaw. "...But an apology is an apology. Alright, I'll take it."

Greiland coughs. "How much do you know of me? I know I spoke to your Sisters some, but I'm not sure...How close they are to you."

Katia shakes Gwynais by the shoulder in a show of comradery you've seen among the soldiers of the Astra Militarum and other warriors before. "Gwyn and I were serving together before the Mission formed for about two years. We served a bit up in the Veraul Reaches against the pagans and Greenskins, then ended up on Leanna's Rest for a few months before the Mission was founded. Saved my life, and I owe her a debt for that."

"Bah, that was Leanna, not me. I was just trying to roast some Orks and you happened to be in the middle of them!" Gwynais laughs. "Didn't even see you before you popped out from under the pile of roasted Greenskins! Now those were some real enemies, not like these cultists. I wish...Oh, Macharius is back."

"Who's that with Macha?" Katia asks, squinting her eyes.

You recognize the other figure well-Caelia, one of your Battle-Sisters. She and Macharius arrive, taking a seat beside you at the emptying table. Macharius gives you a little nod, before turning to a conversation between her and Caelia.

greendoor said:
"Sister Caelia Valeriania, Squad Palais." Caelia confirms, nodding. She hoped it was did not come out terse or aggravated. She tapered down on a frown at Eriko's mention, trying to think of how to speak tactfully...

"Sister Eriko is...certainly a very unorthodox Sister." She considers, and allows herself to speak a little more clearly. Eriko's own reputation was hers to protect. "A good Sister at Arms and excellent medicae, but...arrogant. I hope she has not insulted you in some way, Sister?"

The woman shrugs. "Me? No. Others, yes. It's to be expected, she wasn't raised to the Order's precepts like the rest of us. I'd have expected a little more humility, perhaps, but I suppose bullheadedness can be a virtue."

greendoor said:
"A pleasure." Caelia repeats back at her, turning back to get her own food. "Excellent tactical suggestion sister-I will vanquish this stew all the faster." she says lightly at the suggestion, piling a few rolls on her own plate.

At a time like this, the food smelled like the finest in all the Imperium, fit for the tables at the Emperor's side. She knew back home nobles ate richer fare, exotic meats and plant matter imported from death and agriworlds the sector and beyond over, drowned by rivers of centuries aged alcohol. She had dim memories of such feasts and luxury, but she had spent almost half her life in the Schola, where the food wasn't even this good much of the time (At least they'd gotten feasts on Sanguinala and Emperor's Ascension). Thus, she could not bring herself to think of a single complaint for the simple stew and bread rolls on her plate.

Food in hand, and a small glass of amasec balanced in the other, she felt slightly less exhausted, and followed Macharius back to a seat. She supposed she could indulge in some small talk. "I hope I'm not mistaken in asking if you are from Velorum? It'd be good to have another of the homeworld's blood in the mission." She coughed slightly. "Err, no slight intended if you are not. We are all sisters here, and you and your squad likely more veteran than me and mine."

She digs into her food, hoping to avoid the possible awkward moment if she turned out to be wrong.

"No slight was taken, though I'm curious what would bring that up. My grandfather was of Velorum birth, and I do hail from a minor branch of the House Dominus, but I do not hail from the 'Lost Jewel'. Technically speaking, I was born at a lovely summer resort on Antellios, though I spent most of my childhood growing up on Leanna's Rest. Lovely worlds."

As she digs into her stew, she motions her head toward a tall, Ivory skinned woman who's golden eyes are bright with mirth. "Katia, you were raised on Velorum, no?"

"That I was Sister. I mean, my parents were Voidborn, but the heart of the Dragon's Teeth is a place near and deep to my heart. If you're Velorum too, that probably gives us more combat experience than half the people here!" Katia says with a playful wink at you.

"And yet my killcount remains higher. But then, a few extra years with a heavy bolter will do that," Macharius replies, drily "It's the experience in Warplate that counts in the end."

@Zeitgeist_Blue

As Caelia, Katia and Macharius speak, and Gwynais listens in, Greiland leans in toward you. "Sister Eriko," She whispers. "I know Macharius and Gwynais' words must have stung and I'm sorry for that. But I needed to tell you something else. After Palais took you two on that expedition, I saw Sister-Superior Derosa speaking with the Legatine. I didn't hear much, but I did hear your name, and the Sister-Superior and Lethicia seemed concerned. Maybe I'm wrong, but I thought you should know."

Zeitgeist Blue · Jul 3, 2019

Shephard said:
Sister Greiland flushes a bit at that. "I suppose you're welcome, though I'm not sure I'd put it that way..."

Katia nods her head, swallowing down a bite of rice. "We're the Sisters of Battle. We're not much for gossiping behind peoples' backs. We tend to be much more confrontational about that," Katia notes. "Unless you count making fun of civilians while sitting around on garrison duty to pass the time, I suppose." She shrugs, playfull.

Gwynais frowns. "Gossipmongering? Maybe when we were still schola brats and hadn't yet grown out of it. Unless we've got some Sisters Famulous running around I haven't seen. Gossiping is literally part of their job," She says, giving a little shrug. Then, she jabs a finger at you. "You didn't antagonize her. Macharius doesn't care, even though she should. You should be lighting a candle for your disrespect, not..." She rolls her jaw. "...But an apology is an apology. Alright, I'll take it."

Eriko's shoulders almost sagged with relief before she reasserted control over her body. As much as she wanted to, she should not lose her composure again, not after having just apologized for doing so. And so Gwynais' bait went unanswered and Eriko slid everything out of mind but the acceptance of her olive branch.

It was good enough, and sometimes one could only settle for good enough.

"Thank you, Sister." Eriko dabs at her mouth with a napkin. She puts the napkin down, revealing a small smile to acknowledge Katia's words.

"I'll keep that in mind, though direct confrontation isn't what I'm inclined to when subtler ways are available."

Shephard said:
Greiland coughs. "How much do you know of me? I know I spoke to your Sisters some, but I'm not sure...How close they are to you."

"Ah," Eriko says, momentarily at a loss for words. Absently, she brushes away strands of loose red hair before she speaks again. "I have overheard a few things. How Sister Ilana had taken a small role in your last play where she had performed admirably. And that you are from Vreln Ranth, but aside from those I do not know much more." She offered her palms to serve as apology.

"What else is there to tell?"

Shephard said:
Katia shakes Gwynais by the shoulder in a show of comradery you've seen among the soldiers of the Astra Militarum and other warriors before. "Gwyn and I were serving together before the Mission formed for about two years. We served a bit up in the Veraul Reaches against the pagans and Greenskins, then ended up on Leanna's Rest for a few months before the Mission was founded. Saved my life, and I owe her a debt for that."

"Bah, that was Leanna, not me. I was just trying to roast some Orks and you happened to be in the middle of them!" Gwynais laughs. "Didn't even see you before you popped out from under the pile of roasted Greenskins! Now those were some real enemies, not like these cultists. I wish...Oh, Macharius is back."

"Who's that with Macha?" Katia asks, squinting her eyes.

You recognize the other figure well-Caelia, one of your Battle-Sisters. She and Macharius arrive, taking a seat beside you at the emptying table. Macharius gives you a little nod, before turning to a conversation between her and Caelia.

"Sister Caelia." Eriko notes before returning her attention to the table. "Then your squad's cohesion must be better than usual with your existing partnership. The Mission took two birds with one stone when they took the both of you in. Now if only my own squad were as fortunate." Eriko holds a hand up to count with her fingers. "Since Almium Magna we've two fresh Battle-Sisters, a transferee," she places a hand on her chest, "And merely one wholly veteran Battle-Sister, and even she does not--."

@greendoor
She sighs, stopping herself as Macharius and Caelia arrive. "But with time and proper guidance I have faith Squad Palais will be forged into something whole."

"Sisters." Eriko nods in greeting as Macharius and Caelia sit down. "We've been discussing our time before the Mission. I've no doubt both of you can shed some light."

She turns to the rest of the table, and leans forward, her palm upturned, as if ready to tell a riveting tale. "I've called Vera Fortis my home for four decades and my battlefield for half that time. There was much work there for healers. I've dealt with wounds inflicted by any manner of the Emperor's enemies countless times and at a point they would all blur together. A soldier either lived or died and we, my Mission, healed them so they may fight again and at times we even fought with them when the lines all ahead were overrun."

As if to emphasize her point, she clenched her palm into a fist.

"We fought but only so that we may continue to heal, so that others may fight and eventually die. The Imperium has a place for everyone and works greatest if all its peoples understood that. I've become a soldier but still," and her eyes flit to Macharius, as if to ask for an impasse" I have yet to shed the heart of a healer. Perhaps in time, just like the rest of my squad."

Shephard said:
As Caelia, Katia and Macharius speak, and Gwynais listens in, Greiland leans in toward you. "Sister Eriko," She whispers. "I know Macharius and Gwynais' words must have stung and I'm sorry for that. But I needed to tell you something else. After Palais took you two on that expedition, I saw Sister-Superior Derosa speaking with the Legatine. I didn't hear much, but I did hear your name, and the Sister-Superior and Lethicia seemed concerned. Maybe I'm wrong, but I thought you should know."

Eriko's lips tightened visibly at Greiland's words, before she leaned in as well.

"Then I shall face whatever comes with my head raised high. At least I will not be caught off-guard because of you. Thank you."

Mina · Jul 8, 2019

Shephard said:
"Honestly, I commend you on holding your tongue, Sister. And I'm not here to punish you-believe me, Eriko's getting all of that. But I've got an eye for fires, and I could see the fire burning within you," She smiles sadly at that. "I feared-Truly feared-that if I left you two together, it may come to blows. And I shouldn't need to. All I'm asking is that you give her some more to adjust." She leans her head back, closing her eyes. Then they open at you, twinkling with amusement. "And if she continues to be a stubborn pain in my arse, that you restrain me from strangling her. If you'll pardon my Clanner."

"You will have to get through my arm, mine own throat to reach hers Sister-superior." Maria rose stiffly, muscles turned to jelly by the release of tension. A quick sniff and she was back to full readiness. "Thank you. I will do my best to be more understanding of her and the trials she presents us with."

Her feet shuffled on the gritty stone as she took a hesitant step forward. Maria's hands clenched at her sides, reflexively, then relaxed as she lunged forward the rest of the way in a jerking, coltish motion. She hugged Palais hard and tight, face turned away with a brilliant blush to her pale skin.

"Thank you."

greendoor · Jul 9, 2019

Shephard said:
"No slight was taken, though I'm curious what would bring that up. My grandfather was of Velorum birth, and I do hail from a minor branch of the House Dominus, but I do not hail from the 'Lost Jewel'. Technically speaking, I was born at a lovely summer resort on Antellios, though I spent most of my childhood growing up on Leanna's Rest. Lovely worlds."

As she digs into her stew, she motions her head toward a tall, Ivory skinned woman who's golden eyes are bright with mirth. "Katia, you were raised on Velorum, no?"

"That I was Sister. I mean, my parents were Voidborn, but the heart of the Dragon's Teeth is a place near and deep to my heart. If you're Velorum too, that probably gives us more combat experience than half the people here!" Katia says with a playful wink at you.

"I am just happy to know there are others of Velorum in the mission. It's a comfort-an irrational one I know, but a comfort. A touch of familiarity." Caelia says, picking at her food. "There was Sister Pia, but she is a quiet one."

Caelia laughs lightly at Katia's claim. "I've been trained with the sword since I was eight, and some with the lasrifle since I was ten. Trained with Houseguard trainers and tutors both. The stereotypes are partially true. Nothing that could actually be called combat though, until the Schola."

Shephard said:
"And yet my killcount remains higher. But then, a few extra years with a heavy bolter will do that," Macharius replies, drily "It's the experience in Warplate that counts in the end."

"Ah, true." Caelia says, nodding. "A fact I will not dispute." She grins thinly. "I will also of course, try to outpace you, as hard as I can in the future, Sister."

SirLagginton · Jul 10, 2019

Shephard said:
"Quite," The woman says, eyes hard. She listens to your story in silence, motioning to you to continue at points but saying nothing. Then, she shakes her head. "It is a classic ploy of the Archenemy and others who call upon the dread powers of the Warp. They awaken old pains and old fears, seeking weakness in the hearts of otherwise staunch Imperials."

"Often, they succeed," She says, eyes staring cooly down at you. "Leanna knew pain, Sister, as none of us ever will. The Nightmare Given Form tortured her, before the end. Not just her flesh, but it roused her greatest fears and oldest failings against her and made her relive it a thousand times. It demanded she deny her faith, demanded she give in. She did not." She regards you, pursing her lips. "A weaker woman would not be here seeking solace. A weaker woman would have fired upon her Sisters, seeing nightmares. A weaker woman would have curled up into a ball, broken by memories. A weaker woman would have put her boltgun to her head and pulled the trigger or forced her Sisters to do it for her. Clearly, you are still here. There is nothing flawed in your pain: You are not lost, Sister. Leanna taught us that pain is not weakness. Weakness is letting pain rule you. Strength is in overcoming it."

"Go and pray to the God-Emperor, Sister. Speak with your Sisters. Do whatever you need to overcome your trial, and let your pain become the strength needed to follow in Leanna's footsteps. Do not allow it to rule you, for only then will you truly have...Inexcusably lapsed."

Ilana bit her lip as she digested the words, processing them as she reflected upon her experiences through the context of Saint Leanna, trying to connect herself with the legendary saint through the texts she knew by heart from the schola. That mocking shadow had receded for now, but she knew from long bitter experience that it was a temporary reprieve. That wraith would be back, it would always be back. All she had in her was the capacity to endure.

At last she bowed her head, "My sincere gratitude for your shared wisdom Palatine. I will take them to heart, and seek the path that Leanna paved for us all when she overcame her own Nightmares. She had not given herself for anything less."

Shephard · Jul 12, 2019

Mina said:
"You will have to get through my arm, mine own throat to reach hers Sister-superior." Maria rose stiffly, muscles turned to jelly by the release of tension. A quick sniff and she was back to full readiness. "Thank you. I will do my best to be more understanding of her and the trials she presents us with."

Her feet shuffled on the gritty stone as she took a hesitant step forward. Maria's hands clenched at her sides, reflexively, then relaxed as she lunged forward the rest of the way in a jerking, coltish motion. She hugged Palais hard and tight, face turned away with a brilliant blush to her pale skin.

"Thank you."

There's not even a moment of hesitation before Palais' strong arms wrap around you in a single smooth motion and hug you tight.

"Consider it nothing," She says, the two of you embracing. There is a moment of silence as you take comfort in each others' presence, the sound of the pounding rain and the rattling of a window only adding to the sense of calm that runs through you. Finally, you pull free of each other, Palais leaning against the wall.

"Well, I can't say I expected that. Haven't had a hug like that since my old squad. And back then, it was me doing the hugging," She giggles, clasping you on the shoulder. "I'm here for you, Maria. You and the rest of the squad."

She tilts her head back, toward the door. "Now let's get out of this room before we catch a chill. Can't be that long until evening prayers."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
Eriko's shoulders almost sagged with relief before she reasserted control over her body. As much as she wanted to, she should not lose her composure again, not after having just apologized for doing so. And so Gwynais' bait went unanswered and Eriko slid everything out of mind but the acceptance of her olive branch.

It was good enough, and sometimes one could only settle for good enough.

"Thank you, Sister." Eriko dabs at her mouth with a napkin. She puts the napkin down, revealing a small smile to acknowledge Katia's words.

"I'll keep that in mind, though direct confrontation isn't what I'm inclined to when subtler ways are available."

"You are, or rather were Hospitaller," Katia says, stifling a cough into a bionic hand. "Whereas we are Battle-Sisters by training and experience. A direct approach is...Well, in the name. A difference in perspective is unsurprising."

Gwynais nods. "Not much need for subtlety when you have power armor and a flamer. And Katia, you know what they say about Battle-Sister stealth!"

She leans in next to Katia, and the two sing-song together. "The enemy can't raise the alarm if there's no enemy left alive to raise it!"

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Ah," Eriko says, momentarily at a loss for words. Absently, she brushes away strands of loose red hair before she speaks again. "I have overheard a few things. How Sister Ilana had taken a small role in your last play where she had performed admirably. And that you are from Vreln Ranth, but aside from those I do not know much more." She offered her palms to serve as apology.

"What else is there to tell?"

The other woman waves it off. "I wasn't sure if you knew that much. Or even if Sister Caelia told you I was from Vreln Relk-She got the worlds mixed up earlier," She chuckles, shaking her head. "I could share a fair amount. How I was originally assigned to Stormtrooper training in the Schola, before finding a different path, or how I spent a few years escorting pilgrims across the sector's paths, but right before the Mission formed I was just on a shrine guard duty in the Crown. Boring work, aside from the assassination attempt and the riot."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Sister Caelia." Eriko notes before returning her attention to the table. "Then your squad's cohesion must be better than usual with your existing partnership. The Mission took two birds with one stone when they took the both of you in. Now if only my own squad were as fortunate." Eriko holds a hand up to count with her fingers. "Since Almium Magna we've two fresh Battle-Sisters, a transferee," she places a hand on her chest, "And merely one wholly veteran Battle-Sister, and even she does not--."

@greendoor
She sighs, stopping herself as Macharius and Caelia arrive. "But with time and proper guidance I have faith Squad Palais will be forged into something whole."

greendoor said:
"I am just happy to know there are others of Velorum in the mission. It's a comfort-an irrational one I know, but a comfort. A touch of familiarity." Caelia says, picking at her food. "There was Sister Pia, but she is a quiet one."

Caelia laughs lightly at Katia's claim. "I've been trained with the sword since I was eight, and some with the lasrifle since I was ten. Trained with Houseguard trainers and tutors both. The stereotypes are partially true. Nothing that could actually be called combat though, until the Schola."

The Sisters nod at Sister Eriko as Macharius and Caelia sit down, then turn their attention to the new conversation.

"It's a fortress world," Macharius notes, eyes on her food. "No more a stereotype than Ice-Worlders being used to cold."

Katia snorts. "You're not wrong. If I recall correctly, law requires being able to use sword, pistol and rifle by fourteen, at least for the Highborn. I think the baseborn only need to learn the rifle and bayonet by ten or so?"

Gywnais leans in. "Sister Pia? Is she one of the new inductees? I've heard your squad has had some ill fortune with transfers thus far."

greendoor said:
"Ah, true." Caelia says, nodding. "A fact I will not dispute." She grins thinly. "I will also of course, try to outpace you, as hard as I can in the future, Sister."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Sisters." Eriko nods in greeting as Macharius and Caelia sit down. "We've been discussing our time before the Mission. I've no doubt both of you can shed some light."

She turns to the rest of the table, and leans forward, her palm upturned, as if ready to tell a riveting tale. "I've called Vera Fortis my home for four decades and my battlefield for half that time. There was much work there for healers. I've dealt with wounds inflicted by any manner of the Emperor's enemies countless times and at a point they would all blur together. A soldier either lived or died and we, my Mission, healed them so they may fight again and at times we even fought with them when the lines all ahead were overrun."

As if to emphasize her point, she clenched her palm into a fist.

"We fought but only so that we may continue to heal, so that others may fight and eventually die. The Imperium has a place for everyone and works greatest if all its peoples understood that. I've become a soldier but still," and her eyes flit to Macharius, as if to ask for an impasse, " I have yet to shed the heart of a healer. Perhaps in time, just like the rest of my squad."

Macharius doesn't see Eriko's look, busy dipping a roll of bead in her stew. Still, she seems to be mulling the words of both Sisters of Squad Palais.

Tearing a chunk from her roll and swallowing it down, Macharius shakes her head. "I wish you the best of luck outpacing me, Sister Caelia, but I have a great deal more experience than you. Or Eriko here," She says, her scarred face a placid mask. Beneath the sleeves of her robes, yet more scars. Many do not look like battle-wounds. Indeed, to Eriko's eyes, some look purposefully inflicted, perhaps by torture, perhaps by religious mortification.

"Before I was assigned to the Mission, my Commandery was hunting down Ivory Traders in the Oasis. Smugglers of alien technology, black marketers, and slavers," The woman says the last word like a curse. "We faced pagan mercenaries and sorcerers, as well as alien sellswords, and met them with faith and fire. In the aftermath, my commandery came to Leanna's Rest on pilgrimage, and I was chosen to join the newly found Mission," She shrugs her shoulders. "And so I'm here, having sworn my oaths before the Wreath of Casita."

"As have we all," Katia notes. "Though, of course, the Emperor judges us for more than words."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
Eriko's lips tightened visibly at Greiland's words, before she leaned in as well.

"Then I shall face whatever comes with my head raised high. At least I will not be caught off-guard because of you. Thank you."

"Happy to be of aid, Sister," Greiland says, though her voice is taut.

SirLagginton said:
Ilana bit her lip as she digested the words, processing them as she reflected upon her experiences through the context of Saint Leanna, trying to connect herself with the legendary saint through the texts she knew by heart from the schola. That mocking shadow had receded for now, but she knew from long bitter experience that it was a temporary reprieve. That wraith would be back, it would always be back. All she had in her was the capacity to endure.

At last she bowed her head, "My sincere gratitude for your shared wisdom Palatine. I will take them to heart, and seek the path that Leanna paved for us all when she overcame her own Nightmares. She had not given herself for anything less."

The Palatine nods her head, solemnly. "Leanna confronted her fears because she knew the God-Emperor would be with her. She died, so that others may live," She says, making a half-aquila symbol toward you. "Emperor bless you, Sister. I'll leave you to your prayers."

Palatine Rathitta turns from you. As you turn to the solace of prayer, you hear her soft whispering over the humm of her armor's reactor, and then, after some minutes, the crash of her sabatons upon the stone floor as she departs. You remain in prayer for some time, apart from the other Sisters praying within the chapel and yet intrinsically linked. Though you all pray for your own reasons, you draw some level of solace from the presence of your fellow Sisters, their quiet whispers overlapping with your own. Calm washes over you as you pray under the watchful gaze of the God-Emperor of Mankind and His Saints.

And so you remain for some time.

You are called to evening prayer by a crackle in your micro-beads. Sisters, their bodies aching and eyes drooping with exhaustion, pour into the primary chapel of the Sanctum without complaint or hesitation. As the Palatine-Now free of her armor-Leads the chapel in prayer, you do not allow the fog in your mind to draw you away. You are the Sisters of Battle, and mere fatigue will not keep you from raising your voices in solemn song to the Lord of All Mankind. You do not waver now, just as you did not on the battlefield, and just as you did not in the Schola-When they shot and drowned and brought you beyond exhaustion into what can only be described as pure hell, you did not waver in your devotion then and certainly not now. Your voices fill the room, the fire and passion of your combined souls echoing off the walls and for that briefest of moments, you forget the ache in your muscles.

You forget everything but your love for the Emperor.

"Love the Emperor, for He is the salvation of Mankind.
Obey His words, for He will lead you into the light of the future.
Heed His wisdom, for He will protect you from evil.
Whisper His prayers with devotion, for they will save your soul.
Honour His servants, for they speak in His voice.
Tremble before His majesty, for we all walk in His immortal shadow!"

You bow your heads as the last words of the Lobesang spring from your lips. The Palatine raises a hand for quiet.

"Sisters. Today we have faced tests. Witchcraft, Daemons, and the madness of insurrection. Tomorrow, He will test us again. Rest well, Sisters, and be ready for what comes next. This world will not surrender easily. Night watch assignments will be given out by your Sisters-Superiors. Goodnight."

Palais turns to the lot of you, passing around a disposable dataslate with your night watch times, and who you will be turning off with. "Eriko, you will be sharing our first watch with me in an hour," She says. "I'll meet back with you after you give your Hail Leannas for today's events."

Zeitgeist Blue · Jul 16, 2019

Shephard said:
"You are, or rather were Hospitaller," Katia says, stifling a cough into a bionic hand. "Whereas we are Battle-Sisters by training and experience. A direct approach is...Well, in the name. A difference in perspective is unsurprising."

Gwynais nods. "Not much need for subtlety when you have power armor and a flamer. And Katia, you know what they say about Battle-Sister stealth!"

She leans in next to Katia, and the two sing-song together. "The enemy can't raise the alarm if there's no enemy left alive to raise it!"

The sudden singing caught Eriko off-guard at first, but after a moment she allowed herself to smile. She couldn't help it when presented with this odd couple's easy back-and-forth. The Mission needed more of that in between the fighting and toil.

"Indeed," Eriko said, shaking her head though a smile still graced her lips. "The two of you will have to teach me how to apply sneaking like this. It seems very effective."

Shephard said:
The other woman waves it off. "I wasn't sure if you knew that much. Or even if Sister Caelia told you I was from Vreln Relk-She got the worlds mixed up earlier," She chuckles, shaking her head. "I could share a fair amount. How I was originally assigned to Stormtrooper training in the Schola, before finding a different path, or how I spent a few years escorting pilgrims across the sector's paths, but right before the Mission formed I was just on a shrine guard duty in the Crown. Boring work, aside from the assassination attempt and the riot."

"Then you will have to tell me about them," Eriko offered. "One day, or even now if you please."

She cocked her head in thought before continuing. "By them I mean the assassination attempt or the riot. Or perhaps your conversion from the Tempestus Scion to the Sororitas, pilgrim escorting or even the shrine guard duty. War tears at a person, no matter how strong, and I found the few years of peace assigned back in my homeworld to refresh the soul, mind, and body."

Shephard said:
You are called to evening prayer by a crackle in your micro-beads. Sisters, their bodies aching and eyes drooping with exhaustion, pour into the primary chapel of the Sanctum without complaint or hesitation. As the Palatine-Now free of her armor-Leads the chapel in prayer, you do not allow the fog in your mind to draw you away. You are the Sisters of Battle, and mere fatigue will not keep you from raising your voices in solemn song to the Lord of All Mankind. You do not waver now, just as you did not on the battlefield, and just as you did not in the Schola-When they shot and drowned and brought you beyond exhaustion into what can only be described as pure hell, you did not waver in your devotion then and certainly not now. Your voices fill the room, the fire and passion of your combined souls echoing off the walls and for that briefest of moments, you forget the ache in your muscles.

You forget everything but your love for the Emperor.

"Love the Emperor, for He is the salvation of Mankind.
Obey His words, for He will lead you into the light of the future.
Heed His wisdom, for He will protect you from evil.
Whisper His prayers with devotion, for they will save your soul.
Honour His servants, for they speak in His voice.
Tremble before His majesty, for we all walk in His immortal shadow!"

You bow your heads as the last words of the Lobesang spring from your lips. The Palatine raises a hand for quiet.

"Sisters. Today we have faced tests. Witchcraft, Daemons, and the madness of insurrection. Tomorrow, He will test us again. Rest well, Sisters, and be ready for what comes next. This world will not surrender easily. Night watch assignments will be given out by your Sisters-Superiors. Goodnight."

She loved it, the order and harmony the dozens of voices formed as they sang His praises. For her, this expression of faith was a rock she had set her life upon. From her time in the Schola to the battlefield and her homeworld and back, confined to the monastery in self-hate and returned once more a Battle-Sister in this Order's Mission, the spirit of worship did not change.

It was familiar and comforting, and for the longest time was the only thing to shine light into her personal darkness.

And so she lost herself in the singing and the hymns, the candles that lit the room only dimly and the statues of Saints that watched this humble liturgy from their alcoves.

Shephard said:
Palais turns to the lot of you, passing around a disposable dataslate with your night watch times, and who you will be turning off with. "Eriko, you will be sharing our first watch with me in an hour," She says. "I'll meet back with you after you give your Hail Leannas for today's events."

Her forearm bled as Eriko pushed the cilice down upon flesh. Superficial, all told, but that did not stop the piercing from hurting. The pain helped her focus instead of nodding off. She shed comfort for hooks weighted down by heavy chains so that she may face fully what she should have instead of retreating into the false ease of human arrogance. Tucked in a niche on the side of the room, Eriko turned to face a small shrine of Saint Leanna.

Then she knelt and raised her arms to the shrine, and she let the chains fall freely, hooks digging deeper into her skin. Though once she had found the Order of the Burning Rose's devotion to mortification excessive, she had grown to understand it. Now, sharing in the burden and pain that Leanna had herself once gone through, the Sister of Battle felt closer than ever to the Saint.

"Hail Leanna..." Her voice began, quiet yet unwavering in this simple yet holy prayer.

Through prayer she affirmed her person. Her purpose.

A soldier of faith and of Man. A Keontamo.

***
"Sister-Superior," Eriko said, an hour later. She dipped her head in greeting. "I have performed the Hail Leannas and reflected upon today's events. Where will we be keeping watch?"

greendoor · Jul 18, 2019

Shephard said:
"It's a fortress world," Macharius notes, eyes on her food. "No more a stereotype than Ice-Worlders being used to cold."

Katia snorts. "You're not wrong. If I recall correctly, law requires being able to use sword, pistol and rifle by fourteen, at least for the Highborn. I think the baseborn only need to learn the rifle and bayonet by ten or so?"

"The Baseborn have it so much easier. They only have to learn to clean and fire one weapon by the time they're ten. Child's play." Caelia says, only half seriously.

Shephard said:
Gywnais leans in. "Sister Pia? Is she one of the new inductees? I've heard your squad has had some ill fortune with transfers thus far."

"Yes. She joined Squad Palais at the start of this operation. Dominion-very good with a flamer." Caelia says, spooning some stew with the corner of a roll. "She doesn't talk much though. And she's been detained by the Hospitalers-probably caught something nasty." Caelia shakes her head.

"I hope she sticks around-Sister Ana and Sister Jeanne didn't, whatever their reasons."

Shephard said:
Macharius doesn't see Eriko's look, busy dipping a roll of bead in her stew. Still, she seems to be mulling the words of both Sisters of Squad Palais.

Tearing a chunk from her roll and swallowing it down, Macharius shakes her head. "I wish you the best of luck outpacing me, Sister Caelia, but I have a great deal more experience than you. Or Eriko here," She says, her scarred face a placid mask. Beneath the sleeves of her robes, yet more scars. Many do not look like battle-wounds. Indeed, to Eriko's eyes, some look purposefully inflicted, perhaps by torture, perhaps by religious mortification.

"Before I was assigned to the Mission, my Commandery was hunting down Ivory Traders in the Oasis. Smugglers of alien technology, black marketers, and slavers," The woman says the last word like a curse. "We faced pagan mercenaries and sorcerers, as well as alien sellswords, and met them with faith and fire. In the aftermath, my commandery came to Leanna's Rest on pilgrimage, and I was chosen to join the newly found Mission," She shrugs her shoulders. "And so I'm here, having sworn my oaths before the Wreath of Casita."

"As have we all," Katia notes. "Though, of course, the Emperor judges us for more than words."

Caelia reluctantly sighs, and says "The Mission is my first outside of the Schola." She shrugs. "I wish it were otherwise, but I have no great deeds to offer. Doesn't mean I'm not going to try my best to earn those kills though."

+++++++++++

Shephard said:
You are called to evening prayer by a crackle in your micro-beads. Sisters, their bodies aching and eyes drooping with exhaustion, pour into the primary chapel of the Sanctum without complaint or hesitation. As the Palatine-Now free of her armor-Leads the chapel in prayer, you do not allow the fog in your mind to draw you away. You are the Sisters of Battle, and mere fatigue will not keep you from raising your voices in solemn song to the Lord of All Mankind. You do not waver now, just as you did not on the battlefield, and just as you did not in the Schola-When they shot and drowned and brought you beyond exhaustion into what can only be described as pure hell, you did not waver in your devotion then and certainly not now. Your voices fill the room, the fire and passion of your combined souls echoing off the walls and for that briefest of moments, you forget the ache in your muscles.

You forget everything but your love for the Emperor.

"Love the Emperor, for He is the salvation of Mankind.
Obey His words, for He will lead you into the light of the future.
Heed His wisdom, for He will protect you from evil.
Whisper His prayers with devotion, for they will save your soul.
Honour His servants, for they speak in His voice.
Tremble before His majesty, for we all walk in His immortal shadow!"

You bow your heads as the last words of the Lobesang spring from your lips. The Palatine raises a hand for quiet.

"Sisters. Today we have faced tests. Witchcraft, Daemons, and the madness of insurrection. Tomorrow, He will test us again. Rest well, Sisters, and be ready for what comes next. This world will not surrender easily. Night watch assignments will be given out by your Sisters-Superiors. Goodnight."

Caelia sung as well as any other, joining her voice to the choir. She would not let fatigue and mental exhaustion effect her here.

As soon as the song finished, Caelia practical slumped, though she half heartedly tried to hide it. She was looking forward to her few hours of rack time-though perhaps not as much to what dreams may come in that time.

Shephard · Jul 24, 2019

Zeitgeist Blue said:
The sudden singing caught Eriko off-guard at first, but after a moment she allowed herself to smile. She couldn't help it when presented with this odd couple's easy back-and-forth. The Mission needed more of that in between the fighting and toil.

"Indeed," Eriko said, shaking her head though a smile still graced her lips. "The two of you will have to teach me how to apply sneaking like this. It seems very effective."

"Dominion squad secret, I'm afraid. We'd have to kill you," Katia says, her face suddenly stone cold.

"Indubitably," Gwynais agrees, nodding her head. "Not even a dirty traitor to the Dominion cause like your Sister-Superior would dare sell-out our techniques!"

Greiland raises an eyebrow. "Allow me to guess: It comes down to 'set everyone on fire'?"

Katia gives a big, slow blink, then leans in next to Gwynais. "Damn it, how'd they figure it out, Gwyn?" She whispers. Then, the both break down snorting and giggling. Greiland gives a slow shake of her head that can't hide her low chuckle. Macharius giving a dry snort.

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Then you will have to tell me about them," Eriko offered. "One day, or even now if you please."

She cocked her head in thought before continuing. "By them I mean the assassination attempt or the riot. Or perhaps your conversion from the Tempestus Scion to the Sororitas, pilgrim escorting or even the shrine guard duty. War tears at a person, no matter how strong, and I found the few years of peace assigned back in my homeworld to refresh the soul, mind, and body."

Greiland wrinkles her brow at your words. "If you say so, Sister," She says, diplomatically. "Personally, I found the old adage to hold true, that "it is not the Horror of War that troubles me but the Unseen Horrors of Peace". But duty called, and so I answered," She says, with a shrug. "Another day, I promise. I've a bit of a heart for storytelling, and I'd like more time than we have to tell them."

greendoor said:
"The Baseborn have it so much easier. They only have to learn to clean and fire one weapon by the time they're ten. Child's play." Caelia says, only half seriously.

"To be honest, some days, I envy the baseborn," Katia says. "I know we have many privileges over them. The chance to serve as Sisters of Battle, foremost, and yet...their lives are so much simpler than ours. Less to learn, less to worry about each day. No having to learn the dialects of High Gothic, memorize star-charts and dynastic lines, proper etiquette, singing, commanding...Just so much more time to focus their minds on the day to day and the Emperor. And they go so much sooner to the God-Emperor's side than most of we. It must be something else, to be so unburdened,"

"Blessed is the mind too small for doubt," Gwynais intones.

Macharius, mid tea-sip, raises an eyebrow. Putting the bowl back then, she speaks. "I doubt many share your envy, Sister...But then, I suppose there are always those ne'er do well scions who go gallivanting off into the underhive to drink, sex and chem the days away. Who knows what goes through their heads," She shrugs.

greendoor said:
"Yes. She joined Squad Palais at the start of this operation. Dominion-very good with a flamer." Caelia says, spooning some stew with the corner of a roll. "She doesn't talk much though. And she's been detained by the Hospitalers-probably caught something nasty." Caelia shakes her head.

"I hope she sticks around-Sister Ana and Sister Jeanne didn't, whatever their reasons."

"I'll pray for her health, then. Emperor protect her," Gwynais replies. "I'm surprised to hear you've had so many Sisters depart in such short a time. Perhaps they were called to pilgrimage? My last unit had departures for that reason."

"Or maybe they were called to serve the Inquisition," Katia suggests. Gwynais frowns, but doesn't disagree. It is far from unknown for members of your Order to be called, as you are twice-fold Chamber Militant.

greendoor said:
Caelia reluctantly sighs, and says "The Mission is my first outside of the Schola." She shrugs. "I wish it were otherwise, but I have no great deeds to offer. Doesn't mean I'm not going to try my best to earn those kills though."

"You went through the same training as the rest of us, excluding our Hospitaller," Macharius says, waving a hand in dismissal. "Things such as learning the Canticle of Tranquility have already proven you. Deeds will come in time," She says, casually sipping some broth. You recall learning the Canticle of Tranquility well. It is hard not to remember the immersion trials: water filling the tank they put you in, rising up above your head as you were forced to focus on the hymns.

She cocks her head, then shrugs. "Probably. The Emperor takes us all when He alone deems fit. My namesake, for all his glories, died of a jungle sickness after all. Which isn't too unlikely to happen again here."

Gwynais grimaces, making the sign of the Aquila. "Give me an honest battle any day. Not skulking through swamp and sewage. We'll probably take more casualties from this miserable world than the enemy!"

"Ah, I don't think it's that bad," Katia says. "Kinda reminds me of the swamps back home! I mean, sure, the infrastructure's shoddy, and the humidity is a bit higher, but there's a reason Velorum is a Jewel World!"

"I think it's more due to its economic powerbase and serving as the sector's Cadia than the sights," Macharius notes, dryly.

@SirLagginton @Mina @greendoor

Guided by a dataslate in her hand, Palais leads you up the winding stairs to a third floor level to a row of dormitories that seem to have been spared the fire that ravaged so much of the sanctum Imperialis (Or, at least, have already had their repairs completely). Each room is sparse, consisting of several synth-wood beds flush against the rockcrete walls, a desk which Palais quickly claims for a small stack of dataslates, and a small closet for storing your miscellaneous items. The only decoration in the otherwise barren room is a picture above the doorway of the God-Emperor of Mankind in His aspect as the Emperor-In-Service: A grimacing corpse bound in eternal duty to His people upon the Golden Throne. Opposite it is, by comparison, an elegant glass window, the metal supports woven through it making the symbol of a flame. Hard rain pounds against the thick glass pane, lightly rattling it, water pouring down through the open maws of the gargoyles you see knelt upon the ledge outside.

"Hygiene chamber's to the left around the corner," Palais says, checking the lock on the window. "Bulletproof, so hopefully we can sleep tight. Still, make sure to lock the door behind you if you leave. We don't have everything secured quite yet."

"Sleep well, Sisters!" She calls out as she leaves.

And indeed, you do sleep well. Your dreams are more lively than typical, but free of the nightmares so common this close to the Dragon's Teeth. Pleasant memories and images run together. Visions of Holy Saints and vistas of distant worlds, and more personal recollections all run together through through the strange logic of your dreaming states.

A distant explosion and the double-boom of boltguns rouses you from deep dreams to a groggy half sleep. After a few moments of listening, you hear the crackle of your voxes, a splitting noise that does more to rouse you than the gunfire and explosions.

"This is Squad Morena, all clear. Emperor be praised, for we have uncovered multiple heretics attempting to infiltrate the perimeter. Two targets purged, and a third put to flight. Damage negligible, and no further contact, but advise all patrols remain alert for further attempts. Out."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Sister-Superior," Eriko said, an hour later. She dipped her head in greeting. "I have performed the Hail Leannas and reflected upon today's events. Where will we be keeping watch?"

Palais motions you to follow her. "Same floor we're sleeping. Patrolling in case anyone tries to break in. But first, to retrieve our equipment at the armory," She says, setting a brisk pace.

The armory is largely empty this time of night, save for a few other Sisters getting kitted out in patrol and a group of enginseers helping with preparations or providing maintenance to the racks of munitions and suits of power armor in the back. All of your Sisters are simply wearing their shield robes, and are mostly arming themselves with a mixture of autoguns, shotguns, and a smattering of boltpistols and guns.

You turn at the sound of metal clacking against the rockcrete to find yourself face to face with a hooded tech-priest, her dark features and the cables that curl across the metal plating along the left side of her face lit crimson by a bionic eye. Mechadendrites coil out from beneath her robes, twisting and uncoiling. One lowers down, something steaming clutched in its metallic grip. A cup, you realize after a moment, the smell of recaf fresh in the air as it dips the hot drink to her smiling mouth. She takes a sip.

"Salutations! Good evening, Sister-Superior Palais Kavarea! And of course, you too, Sister Eriko Keontamo." She asks as a sensor coil winds past you, her too perfect smile leaving you uncomfortable. "Enginseer Alicia, at your service. I ah, don't suppose Sister Maria mentioned me?"

"No, but Sister Maria isn't always the most talkative," Palais says.

The woman nods, a tad too quickly. "Ah well. Well, I'm in charge for this shift, as Maloc is busy repairing a Rhino. Since you're on interior patrol, power armor is locked, but you're welcome to any weapons you deem fit. I would personally recommend the autoguns with either man-stopper or dum-dum rounds for you, Sister Eriko. Your muscle mass index is insufficient for a boltgun. Perhaps if you braced with both hands a bolt pistol may be usable?" She suggests, taking another sip of recaf. "Also, we have a tea and recaf station set up in the back corner if you need a pick me up. The machine marked holy red is only for those of the priesthood, however."

"Why?" Palais asks.

"Enough stimulant to make your heart explode." She says, matter of factly.

Palais shakes her head and, after collecting a bolt pistol and cup of tea, meets you at the exit to the armory.

Holding back a yawn, she nods at you. "Sister Eriko. Earlier you mentioned you reflected on today's events. I wanted to patrol with you because I needed to speak to you about whether you understood why I asked you to give those Hail Leannas," Now, she walks at an almost languid pace, tracing through the dark halls.

"I know you're a veteran of the Hospitaller. You're used to having authority, and you're experienced. You've seen a great deal of war, Sister. It's only natural for you to gravitate toward commanding, and to trying to guide Sisters your younger. That's the role you're used to," Palais says. "I don't blame you for that. I really don't. I know adjusting is hard, but this behavior needs to stop."

She stops for a moment as you reach the stairway. "When you start trying to give orders to the other sisters, it undercuts my authority as Sister-Superior. I had the Legatine speak to me about this, you know? Lethicia herself," Palais sighs, making her way back up the steps. As she does though, you see a soft flush to her cheeks. "How you speak to the other Sisters...I mentioned earlier today how I had to split you from Maria, because of how furious she was with you. And Caelia and Ilana aren't taking it well either. You may be experienced Sister, but you have spent less time immersed in the teachings of the Order of the Burning Rose than even Caelia. In their eyes, you haven't gone through the same training and indoctrination. You haven't earned your place yet. And so when you try instructing them, it's not as a veteran Sister. It's as a foreign intruder trying to lecture them."

There is a silence as you reach your floor. "You had Maria crying, you know? Maria, ever stoic Maria crying. I could hardly believe it." She motions with a hand down which corridor you'll take. " I don't want it to be like this. I think you have a place in this Order, Sister. I think Leanna has sent you to us for a reason. I believe, wholeheartedly, that you are worthy of being a Sister of the Burning Rose. But you need to take a step back and reconsider how you're acting. You need to learn your place, and earn the respect of your Sisters. You need to treat them as the equals they are. More than that, you need to treat them as your Sisters."

The hallway echoes with your footsteps as you proceed between the old dormitories. "I have asked for Maria to open her heart to you and likewise, I will ask Caelia and Illana to do the same." She smiles. "Look, Eriko, all I'm asking is that you make your best effort to make this squad a Sisterhood. At the moment, it's starting to feel more like a dueling ring."

She chuckles, resting a hand on your shoulder. "What do you-"

Whatever Palais was going to say next is cut off by the distant thunder of an explosion. You strain for a moment, making out the muffled double-booms of boltgun fire, and then silence. Palais stiffens, bringing her pistol to a ready position. A few moment later, your vox crackles.

"This is Squad Morena, all clear. Emperor be praised, for we have uncovered multiple heretics attempting to infiltrate the perimeter. Two targets purged, and a third put to flight. Damage negligible, and no further contact, but advise all patrols remain alert for further attempts. Out."

Mina · Jul 24, 2019

Shephard said:
And indeed, you do sleep well. Your dreams are more lively than typical, but free of the nightmares so common this close to the Dragon's Teeth. Pleasant memories and images run together. Visions of Holy Saints and vistas of distant worlds, and more personal recollections all run together through through the strange logic of your dreaming states.

Maria leaned against the balcony of the Great Hive of Ternopol, not a sign of the nuclear fires that had brought low its spires as tomb to both Geldovans and green plague. The sweet wind blew through her hair, the impossibly long, white banner stretching away to the horizon. She smiled at the sight of the distant road where the vagaries of dreamscapes let her see so clearly her cousin's bareheaded approach down the wide and unmarred boulevard lined with crucified bodies, each decked out in the mask and sigils of rival clans and blood-feuding lines. The thump of her heart echoed across the sun drenched stones as she turned, feeling fingers against her scalp.

The Legatine kept stroking her hair, as just behind her Enginseer Alicia danced with Indomitable--the happiest Maria had ever seen the holy plate. Lethicia's lips moved, but it was like speech underwater, and Maria's tongue was no more nimble. She smiled, laughed, and was falling--flying over green fields and warm sands and--

Shephard said:
A distant explosion and the double-boom of boltguns rouses you from deep dreams to a groggy half sleep. After a few moments of listening, you hear the crackle of your voxes, a splitting noise that does more to rouse you than the gunfire and explosions.

"This is Squad Morena, all clear. Emperor be praised, for we have uncovered multiple heretics attempting to infiltrate the perimeter. Two targets purged, and a third put to flight. Damage negligible, and no further contact, but advise all patrols remain alert for further attempts. Out."

@SirLagginton @greendoor

The retributor rolled out of bed in her boots--and gas mask, gladius at the ready. Her muscles sang with tension, combat experience, Schola training, and tunnel life all crashing together to drive off the vestiges of sleep and replace it with the fight.

And of course it was all for naught.

She fell back on the bed and tugged her mask off, tossing it on to the pillow. "Angels take those poxy mongrels--if there's justice on this dank world the watch turns soon."

greendoor · Jul 26, 2019

Shephard said:
"To be honest, some days, I envy the baseborn," Katia says. "I know we have many privileges over them. The chance to serve as Sisters of Battle, foremost, and yet...their lives are so much simpler than ours. Less to learn, less to worry about each day. No having to learn the dialects of High Gothic, memorize star-charts and dynastic lines, proper etiquette, singing, commanding...Just so much more time to focus their minds on the day to day and the Emperor. And they go so much sooner to the God-Emperor's side than most of we. It must be something else, to be so unburdened,"

"Blessed is the mind too small for doubt," Gwynais intones.

Macharius, mid tea-sip, raises an eyebrow. Putting the bowl back then, she speaks. "I doubt many share your envy, Sister...But then, I suppose there are always those ne'er do well scions who go gallivanting off into the underhive to drink, sex and chem the days away. Who knows what goes through their heads," She shrugs.

"I wouldn't go quite that far, but I admit, It would be a simpler life. Perhaps easier." Caelia says, shrugging.

Shephard said:
"I'll pray for her health, then. Emperor protect her," Gwynais replies. "I'm surprised to hear you've had so many Sisters depart in such short a time. Perhaps they were called to pilgrimage? My last unit had departures for that reason."

"Or maybe they were called to serve the Inquisition," Katia suggests. Gwynais frowns, but doesn't disagree. It is far from unknown for members of your Order to be called, as you are twice-fold Chamber Militant.

"Perhaps, but it seems strange to see a third of a squad leave at once." Caelia says, spooning the last of her stew up. "We could've used Sister Ana here." She adds darkly. "She was an artist with the Stormbolter. If the Inquisition has taken her, I hope they are making good use of her skills. Jeanne too."

Shephard said:
"You went through the same training as the rest of us, excluding our Hospitaller," Macharius says, waving a hand in dismissal. "Things such as learning the Canticle of Tranquility have already proven you. Deeds will come in time," She says, casually sipping some broth. You recall learning the Canticle of Tranquility well. It is hard not to remember the immersion trials: water filling the tank they put you in, rising up above your head as you were forced to focus on the hymns.

She cocks her head, then shrugs. "Probably. The Emperor takes us all when He alone deems fit. My namesake, for all his glories, died of a jungle sickness after all. Which isn't too unlikely to happen again here."

Gwynais grimaces, making the sign of the Aquila. "Give me an honest battle any day. Not skulking through swamp and sewage. We'll probably take more casualties from this miserable world than the enemy!"

"Ah, I don't think it's that bad," Katia says. "Kinda reminds me of the swamps back home! I mean, sure, the infrastructure's shoddy, and the humidity is a bit higher, but there's a reason Velorum is a Jewel World!"

"I think it's more due to its economic powerbase and serving as the sector's Cadia than the sights," Macharius notes, dryly.

"I don't just wear my warhelm at all times outside for show." Caelia says dryly. "If I'm dying here It'll be to some heretic's RPG or IED, not disease."

She shakes her head at Katia's comparison. "Too humid, everything stinks of Promethium, and have you seen the insects?"

She got up to dispose of her now empty tray, and caught Macharius' remark. "Aye, that's true enough, but It's a starkly beautiful world nonetheless sister. Maybe we'll fight there someday, and we can show you?"

Shephard said:
Guided by a dataslate in her hand, Palais leads you up the winding stairs to a third floor level to a row of dormitories that seem to have been spared the fire that ravaged so much of the sanctum Imperialis (Or, at least, have already had their repairs completely). Each room is sparse, consisting of several synth-wood beds flush against the rockcrete walls, a desk which Palais quickly claims for a small stack of dataslates, and a small closet for storing your miscellaneous items. The only decoration in the otherwise barren room is a picture above the doorway of the God-Emperor of Mankind in His aspect as the Emperor-In-Service: A grimacing corpse bound in eternal duty to His people upon the Golden Throne. Opposite it is, by comparison, an elegant glass window, the metal supports woven through it making the symbol of a flame. Hard rain pounds against the thick glass pane, lightly rattling it, water pouring down through the open maws of the gargoyles you see knelt upon the ledge outside.

"Hygiene chamber's to the left around the corner," Palais says, checking the lock on the window. "Bulletproof, so hopefully we can sleep tight. Still, make sure to lock the door behind you if you leave. We don't have everything secured quite yet."

"Sleep well, Sisters!" She calls out as she leaves.

And indeed, you do sleep well. Your dreams are more lively than typical, but free of the nightmares so common this close to the Dragon's Teeth. Pleasant memories and images run together. Visions of Holy Saints and vistas of distant worlds, and more personal recollections all run together through through the strange logic of your dreaming states.

A distant explosion and the double-boom of boltguns rouses you from deep dreams to a groggy half sleep. After a few moments of listening, you hear the crackle of your voxes, a splitting noise that does more to rouse you than the gunfire and explosions.

"This is Squad Morena, all clear. Emperor be praised, for we have uncovered multiple heretics attempting to infiltrate the perimeter. Two targets purged, and a third put to flight. Damage negligible, and no further contact, but advise all patrols remain alert for further attempts. Out."

Caelia, uncharacteristically quick, rolls out of the small bed. One hand slides her gladius from It's sheaf beside her bed, the second groping for her laspistol from the holster mounted on the bedpost. She rises at a crouch, wielding both weapons in a classic fighting stance. The Gladius' grip in her hands is at once familiar and distant-it has been some time since she has used a sword such as this, but it is an old friend from years of training. The pistol is even less familiar-but a daughter of Velorum adapts, or she dies. She crouches between the beds, and looks out for assailants.

@Mina

"Sister"

She nodded to the taciturn Geldovan's intimidating painted gasmask-she'd need to ask why she even wore that for it was an intriguing tradition-then covered the door with her pistol.

Only for the voxes to sound the all clear.

She waited a moment, then two, before safetieing the Laspistol, and set it down on her bed. Her trusted Gladius returned to it's sheath. She returned to her bed, though only to sit.

Mina said:
"Angels take those poxy mongrels--if there's justice on this dank world the watch turns soon."

"They were foolhardy to try this-I am glad we can trust our sisters to protect us." Caelia says.

Still, there was no harm in being safe. She patted her sword.

"But I'm glad to see we were ready at the very least."

SirLagginton · Jul 27, 2019

"Hhhhh-HWAH!" Ilana flailed frantically as the thunder of bolter detonations intruded in her room, as the comfort of sleep was suddenly and violently replaced with an acute sense of danger. Half-remembered instinct led an arm to unholster the laspistol beside her, dragging it down with her as she landed in a sloppily executed crouch before she finally came up with a snarl.

Shephard said:
"This is Squad Morena, all clear. Emperor be praised, for we have uncovered multiple heretics attempting to infiltrate the perimeter. Two targets purged, and a third put to flight. Damage negligible, and no further contact, but advise all patrols remain alert for further attempts. Out."

"I- Throne on Terra." Ilana said irritably as Morena's call signaled the all clear, heart pounding as half-formed memories of another deathly night bleeding away into the aether. "One would've hope that these heretics would've at least had the courtesy not to interrupt our sleep." She rubbed her forehead and then blinked as the details of Maria's painted gas mask came into focus. Some sort of tribal markings? She dug around in her memories for any mention of Maria's homeworld, but she came up blank. A topic for another day then. "Remind me to congratulate Squad Morena on their kills when we next see them."

greendoor said:
"But I'm glad to see we were ready at the very least."

Ilana coughed awkwardly as she bent over to examine the lock, grateful that her sisters weren't able to see the blush of embarrassment at being caught so badly off guard by the bolt fire. She stood back up, "Well as much as I enjoy hearing of the lamentation of the traitor, I'm returning to bed. Fatigue can be just as much an opponent as any cultist. Goodnight."

Zeitgeist Blue · Jul 27, 2019

Shephard said:
Palais motions you to follow her. "Same floor we're sleeping. Patrolling in case anyone tries to break in. But first, to retrieve our equipment at the armory," She says, setting a brisk pace.

The armory is largely empty this time of night, save for a few other Sisters getting kitted out in patrol and a group of enginseers helping with preparations or providing maintenance to the racks of munitions and suits of power armor in the back. All of your Sisters are simply wearing their shield robes, and are mostly arming themselves with a mixture of autoguns, shotguns, and a smattering of boltpistols and guns.

You turn at the sound of metal clacking against the rockcrete to find yourself face to face with a hooded tech-priest, her dark features and the cables that curl across the metal plating along the left side of her face lit crimson by a bionic eye. Mechadendrites coil out from beneath her robes, twisting and uncoiling. One lowers down, something steaming clutched in its metallic grip. A cup, you realize after a moment, the smell of recaf fresh in the air as it dips the hot drink to her smiling mouth. She takes a sip.

"Salutations! Good evening, Sister-Superior Palais Kavarea! And of course, you too, Sister Eriko Keontamo." She asks as a sensor coil winds past you, her too perfect smile leaving you uncomfortable. "Enginseer Alicia, at your service. I ah, don't suppose Sister Maria mentioned me?"

"No, but Sister Maria isn't always the most talkative," Palais says.

The woman nods, a tad too quickly. "Ah well. Well, I'm in charge for this shift, as Maloc is busy repairing a Rhino. Since you're on interior patrol, power armor is locked, but you're welcome to any weapons you deem fit. I would personally recommend the autoguns with either man-stopper or dum-dum rounds for you, Sister Eriko. Your muscle mass index is insufficient for a boltgun. Perhaps if you braced with both hands a bolt pistol may be usable?"

"Thank you for your insight, Enginseer," Eriko says as she steps towards the gun rack. Her fingers run through the available weapons to find one suitable for her "muscle mass" as the techpriest put it. "I would think a night patrol would require ease of use over power. "

She grabs an autogun and several magazines filled with man-stopper rounds from a nearby workbench.

"Though with how much time Sister Maria spends in the armory I take it you both know each other well?" She glances at the techpriest before she snapped a magazine into her gun and clipped the rest of the magazines onto her belt.

Shephard said:
She suggests, taking another sip of recaf. "Also, we have a tea and recaf station set up in the back corner if you need a pick me up. The machine marked holy red is only for those of the priesthood, however."

"Why?" Palais asks.

"Enough stimulant to make your heart explode." She says, matter of factly.

Palais shakes her head and, after collecting a bolt pistol and cup of tea, meets you at the exit to the armory.

"Yes," Eriko drawls not unkindly. "We wouldn't want that. It might lead to your recaf being banned as a lethal weapon."

Then as they leave, she grabs a cup of tea, following Sister Palais to their route.

Shephard said:
Holding back a yawn, she nods at you. "Sister Eriko. Earlier you mentioned you reflected on today's events. I wanted to patrol with you because I needed to speak to you about whether you understood why I asked you to give those Hail Leannas," Now, she walks at an almost languid pace, tracing through the dark halls.

"I know you're a veteran of the Hospitaller. You're used to having authority, and you're experienced. You've seen a great deal of war, Sister. It's only natural for you to gravitate toward commanding, and to trying to guide Sisters your younger. That's the role you're used to," Palais says. "I don't blame you for that. I really don't. I know adjusting is hard, but this behavior needs to stop."

She stops for a moment as you reach the stairway. "When you start trying to give orders to the other sisters, it undercuts my authority as Sister-Superior. I had the Legatine speak to me about this, you know? Lethicia herself," Palais sighs, making her way back up the steps. As she does though, you see a soft flush to her cheeks. "How you speak to the other Sisters...I mentioned earlier today how I had to split you from Maria, because of how furious she was with you. And Caelia and Ilana aren't taking it well either. You may be experienced Sister, but you have spent less time immersed in the teachings of the Order of the Burning Rose than even Caelia. In their eyes, you haven't gone through the same training and indoctrination. You haven't earned your place yet. And so when you try instructing them, it's not as a veteran Sister. It's as a foreign intruder trying to lecture them."

There is a silence as you reach your floor. "You had Maria crying, you know? Maria, ever stoic Maria crying. I could hardly believe it." She motions with a hand down which corridor you'll take. " I don't want it to be like this. I think you have a place in this Order, Sister. I think Leanna has sent you to us for a reason. I believe, wholeheartedly, that you are worthy of being a Sister of the Burning Rose. But you need to take a step back and reconsider how you're acting. You need to learn your place, and earn the respect of your Sisters. You need to treat them as the equals they are. More than that, you need to treat them as your Sisters."

She knew it was coming, ever since Sister Greiland had warned her of the Legatine speaking to the Sister-Superior, and though she had braced herself for this exact talk it did not make it any easier to listen to the Sister-Superior's words. So Eriko stayed quiet as Palais spoke, digesting the meaning behind each word and explanation. And when they exited one dormitory Eriko stayed silent a little bit more.

"Agreed, Sister-Superior," Eriko finally says, slowly as if measuring out what she said.

"I had hoped to help the younger Sisters, impart them the wisdom of age." Their steps echo along the hallway as Eriko speaks, her eyes searching beyond the windows to find signs of intruders as much as to avoid Palais' gaze. "Maria and I, after you, were the most experienced in matters of Sisterhood but she did not seem to take an interest in taking them under our wings... so I did. I took that responsibility for the both of us."

She closes her eyes, forcing herself to imagine the past missions, and sighed before she shakes her head. Red hair whips across her face, obscuring her vision, but she brushes them aside. "I make no excuse. That was a mistake, one I pay and so does Maria and our squad. There could be a saying to what is happening but I will be frank: my actions reflect poorly on the Palatine who had chosen to take me in. On my name, the squad, and the Mission as well. But most of all--"

She hesitates, a shadow falling across her face, but she glances sidelong at Palais. There is another moment of silence before she takes a deep breathe then stops sharply in her tracks to look the Sister-Superior in the eyes. "But most of all, I had been given a second chance by the Saint Leanna after my shameful display on Carilus Prime. I would have killed myself after, eventually, but I am still alive because of her. I do not intend to squander the new life she had offered, spit at her feet, but to reflect on my past actions is to see that I have arrived halfway there."

Finally, her head bows with the weight of confession, low enough that her torso bends from the waist. "And for that I am deeply sorry."

Shephard said:
The hallway echoes with your footsteps as you proceed between the old dormitories. "I have asked for Maria to open her heart to you and likewise, I will ask Caelia and Illana to do the same." She smiles. "Look, Eriko, all I'm asking is that you make your best effort to make this squad a Sisterhood. At the moment, it's starting to feel more like a dueling ring."

She chuckles, resting a hand on your shoulder. "What do you-"

Whatever Palais was going to say next is cut off by the distant thunder of an explosion. You strain for a moment, making out the muffled double-booms of boltgun fire, and then silence. Palais stiffens, bringing her pistol to a ready position. A few moment later, your vox crackles.

"This is Squad Morena, all clear. Emperor be praised, for we have uncovered multiple heretics attempting to infiltrate the perimeter. Two targets purged, and a third put to flight. Damage negligible, and no further contact, but advise all patrols remain alert for further attempts. Out."

The alarm brought Eriko back to the world beyond the two Sisters patrolling in the hallway and for a few seconds Eriko takes the role of a soldier, her autogun ready while she braces herself against cover. But the alarm passes shortly with the green signal given by Squad Morena, and Eriko relaxes, bringing her weapon down.

She doesn't hesitate to continue, smiling a little to take the sting out of her next words. "Caelia is too eager to prove her fighting form and spirit and Ilana holds a spirit that can be at times as strong when she needs it be but is oftentimes fragile from her past tragedies. I can relate to both and if Maria has said yes to you then I shall say, 'Yes, I can.'"

Shephard · Jul 31, 2019

greendoor said:
"I don't just wear my warhelm at all times outside for show." Caelia says dryly. "If I'm dying here It'll be to some heretic's RPG or IED, not disease."

She shakes her head at Katia's comparison. "Too humid, everything stinks of Promethium, and have you seen the insects?"

She got up to dispose of her now empty tray, and caught Macharius' remark. "Aye, that's true enough, but It's a starkly beautiful world nonetheless sister. Maybe we'll fight there someday, and we can show you?"

"What's wrong with the smell of promethium in the morning?" Katia asks. "Smells like victory."

Macharius shrugs, taking up her empty tray. "I have fought there before," She says, blankly, and strides off.

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Thank you for your insight, Enginseer," Eriko says as she steps towards the gun rack. Her fingers run through the available weapons to find one suitable for her "muscle mass" as the techpriest put it. "I would think a night patrol would require ease of use over power. "

She grabs an autogun and several magazines filled with man-stopper rounds from a nearby workbench.

"Though with how much time Sister Maria spends in the armory I take it you both know each other well?" She glances at the techpriest before she snapped a magazine into her gun and clipped the rest of the magazines onto her belt.

"Well, I estimate that to be unlikely. We've only briefly spoken on a few occasions," She replies. Something crosses her face, but it's rendered inscrutable by her augmentations. "And she shared little of herself, so...'No' would seem the expected calculation."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
"Yes," Eriko drawls not unkindly. "We wouldn't want that. It might lead to your recaf being banned as a lethal weapon."

Then as they leave, she grabs a cup of tea, following Sister Palais to their route.

The flesh half of the tech-priest's face twitches. "This is the armoury, Sister. More likely, they'd try to put it right next to the flamers."

One enginseer gives a metallic chirp from behind a heavy bolter he's working on, before blurting out a stream of machine tongue. Another enginseer half turns from the bolt rounds she is blessing and replies with an equally mysterious burst of the lingua technis. Alicia rolls her one flesh eye.

"Don't mind them, the only way they'd understand humor is if a team of the most pious Magi installed it into them," She says. "Anyway, have a safe night, Sisters!"

"Back when I served with the Militarum, the Guardsmen would jest that the flame troopers would mix recaf into their promethium and drink it,"

"That seems most improbable?" A third enginseer comments."Unless it was only once. Then perhaps. Imperial Guard intelligence quotas are...Low."

Zeitgeist Blue said:
She knew it was coming, ever since Sister Greiland had warned her of the Legatine speaking to the Sister-Superior, and though she had braced herself for this exact talk it did not make it any easier to listen to the Sister-Superior's words. So Eriko stayed quiet as Palais spoke, digesting the meaning behind each word and explanation. And when they exited one dormitory Eriko stayed silent a little bit more.

"Agreed, Sister-Superior," Eriko finally says, slowly as if measuring out what she said.

"I had hoped to help the younger Sisters, impart them the wisdom of age." Their steps echo along the hallway as Eriko speaks, her eyes searching beyond the windows to find signs of intruders as much as to avoid Palais' gaze. "Maria and I, after you, were the most experienced in matters of Sisterhood but she did not seem to take an interest in taking them under our wings... so I did. I took that responsibility for the both of us."

She closes her eyes, forcing herself to imagine the past missions, and sighed before she shakes her head. Red hair whips across her face, obscuring her vision, but she brushes them aside. "I make no excuse. That was a mistake, one I pay and so does Maria and our squad. There could be a saying to what is happening but I will be frank: my actions reflect poorly on the Palatine who had chosen to take me in. On my name, the squad, and the Mission as well. But most of all--"

She hesitates, a shadow falling across her face, but she glances sidelong at Palais. There is another moment of silence before she takes a deep breathe then stops sharply in her tracks to look the Sister-Superior in the eyes. "But most of all, I had been given a second chance by the Saint Leanna after my shameful display on Carilus Prime. I would have killed myself after, eventually, but I am still alive because of her. I do not intend to squander the new life she had offered, spit at her feet, but to reflect on my past actions is to see that I have arrived halfway there."

Finally, her head bows with the weight of confession, low enough that her torso bends from the waist. "And for that I am deeply sorry."

The alarm brought Eriko back to the world beyond the two Sisters patrolling in the hallway and for a few seconds Eriko takes the role of a soldier, her autogun ready while she braces herself against cover. But the alarm passes shortly with the green signal given by Squad Morena, and Eriko relaxes, bringing her weapon down.

She doesn't hesitate to continue, smiling a little to take the sting out of her next words. "Caelia is too eager to prove her fighting form and spirit and Ilana holds a spirit that can be at times as strong when she needs it be but is oftentimes fragile from her past tragedies. I can relate to both and if Maria has said yes to you then I shall say, 'Yes, I can.'"

A moment after Squad Morena's report, Palais allows her bolt pistol to fall, turning away from her kneeling position at a corner of the hallway. She strides back to you, giving a helpless shrug. "An awkward interruption...But I am gladdened you see your fault, Sister."

Palais comes to a halt, meeting your gaze firmly but warmly "Do you remember the Saint's Lament, Sister? 'Weep for the Emperor, for He gives Himself for us all. Weep for the heretic, who turned her back on the Emperor's grace. Weep for myself, for, in my frailty, I still fall short of the Emperor's will.' We all fall short. We're mortals, striving to follow the example of divinity. It's recognizing those mistakes and turning away from the dark paths they risk leading us down that we draw closer to the Emperor's Light. It's through owning up to how we've failed, and paying penance for it."

She places a hand, comfortingly, on your shoulder. "I believe you are sorry, sister, and I am grateful for it. I forgive you. But redemption is earned not through words alone, but deeds. So...Go forth, and sin no more."

She turns away, glancing down the hallway. "Let's get back to patrol."

@SirLagginton @Mina
The night is restful, despite the interruption and brief spates of wakefulness for your time at watch. The comfort of a soft bed, the steady rhymn of the storm and your own exhaustion manage to lull you to sleep with ease.

The morning is dark. Literally. A glance out the window shows black skies overhead, a pouring rain so thick and heavy it almost feels like a physical presence. Yet, the Dreverarch PDF troops that patrol the perimeter seem at utter ease despite the downpour, and the scant civilians you can see through the storm seem to be going on with their day as readily as yesterday.

The interior of the sanctum-Imperialis is much less peaceful as Sisters and the Ministorum staff assigned to your Mission and the Commandery rush to and fro. As you make your way down to the ground floor for morning prayer, you spot a group of heavily armored PDF troops in segmented suits of ochre armaplas plates stomping their way past some of the Ministorum support staff, headed by what seems to be an officer of some rank judging by his cap, practically chasing the Palatine to the doors of the chapel. When prayers are ended, they scramble after the Palatine. Some Sisters passing by you in the halls are at a near-run, and as you sit down for bowls of steaming oats prepared by the Mission's cooks, a squad of Sisters in full plate scramble in to snap up supplies of ration bars.

It's after breakfast the first mortar shells hit the courtyard of the sanctum. You feel a soft rumble as you set your dishes in place, the quiet rumble of the explosions a moment later. A few moments pass, filled with the clatter of dishes before the next round of detonations shakes violently through the building, flakes of dust kicked from the ceiling landing across the shoulders of your robes.

"That last one must have struck the roof," A Sister from Jessira's commandery comments with a yawn.

The armory is a bit of controlled chaos, enginseers and Battle-Sisters cracking open whole crates of munitions, others performing the arduous task of mounting Sisters in power armor. As you are wrapped in ceramite and servo muscle, the psalms of awakening are sung, the reactor and servos stoked to life, and the Machine-Spirit comes haltingly to life, bits of dust rain down at you from the ineffectual mortar shells that strike the Sanctum Imperialis.

When at last you pull free from your moorings, you make your way down the halls to the room your superiors have taken as their command center, to find the carapace clad PDFers attempting a staring contest with some of the Celestians (And losingly, badly), their officer visible speaking to Palatine Rathitta and Cannoness Jessira inside. From inside you can raise out raised voices and the crackle of comms Though you struggle to hear much over the background noise, you do make out a few snippets (Greendoor perception check success).

"...ord about the cause of the explosion in the temple dis..." Jessira you think, though the reply seems uncertain.

"...eavily entrenched at the Candleweiss river. Mines are..." A servant, you think.

"...Fire in the twists' ghetto when attacks against the perimeter are..." Male this one-The PDF officer, perhaps? It's hard to tell, as a shell shakes the building as he speaks.

"...expects better! Get me eyes on that mortar position, now!" Definitely Rathitta, that one.

One Celestian motions you to a with a tilt of her helmet, toward a nearby room set aside for briefings.

Whatever the room may have once been used for, it would have been spacious, not the back half dominated by a small, portable hololith projector. Legatine Lethicia greets you with a warm smile that brightens up her pallid features, and proffered recaf, tea and dataslates. She is wearing her full honor covered armor save for the helm, and her refractor field, both of which sit on the lip of the flickering projector. The youthful women taps at the brass augmetic in her throat. A cough to clear it leaves a curiously metallic twang in the air.

Another figure are also there to greet you, clad in a fine grey coat and wide brimmed hat covered in religious symbols that mark him as a witch-hunter. A lanky figure, with an angular face like a hunting bird. He tips his hat at Sister Ilana.

"Good morning, Sisters. I hope you slept well, despite the ruckus the locals are making?" The Legatine asks. "No? Good, good. Anyway, for those of you who haven't met him in person, this is Vahn Zayneth, an experienced witch-finder whom some of you have already had the opportunity of meeting. He'll be accompanying you for today's operation, alongside a group of the local...What do the call the guilder sellswords? It was something catchy like Brassnecks?"

Vahn nods, content to remain quiet.

"Good, got it in one,"Lethicia continues. "He knows the local area and people well, including Eneresh. Given your quarry today, you'll likely make some good use of him. You'll be going after that wayward witch, Eneresh."

Palais blinks at that. "She's been upgraded to priority tasking?"

Lethicia nods her head. "Indeed, we're sending you right after her, but I'll get to that in a minute. First, based off gathered information-Some by those here among us-" She says, motioning a hand toward Zayneth and Ilana. "We believe she is currently holed up along one of the major leaders of the riots, Vennedes, in a tenement referred to as the 'Carmine Tower'. It's some sort of fortified housing block. Based off a Velorum pattern. Hardened structure, easily defensible, internal command post for a unit of enforcers or PDF. Not actually red, despite the name and the color on the projector. I believe it's more that a lot of people have killed each other over it, which is a good deal less cheery."

Vahn leans forward, motioning at the imposing structure visible on the flickering hololith. "That's correct. It was part of some abortive fortification plan before the Choir War. What's important is that the enforcers that were meant to keep control of the place are long gone. These days, it's basically prime bragging rights for whatever scum gang or militia group hold it. It's been a sight of some savage sieges over the years-including two enforcer raids, which went badly-Though it's rarely fallen to external force. Of course, they weren't the Emperor's Daughters."

As you examine the picture, you realize the tower is surrounded by a low wall that would make vehicle access difficult. The surrounding area leading to it is marked by a number of small engagement marks, indicating substantial combat.

Lethicia nods. "An overflight of our thunderhawks has confirmed the cult has the tower under siege. Based on that, unless there's some truly convoluted plot going on, we can confirm Eneresh and the cult aren't exactly on speaking terms," She says, waving at icons of enemy forces assailing the tower on all sides. "Though the cult's made little headway so far, given what occured at the fountain yesterday, we can't risk the enemy getting their hands on a powerful psyker. Emperor only knows what horrors they could perform with a witch like Eneresh in their care," The Legatine says, making the sign of the aquila. "I pray that given the Archenemy's assault on Eneresh and her allies, that they may yet be redeemed and brought back into the Emperor's fold. I would ask you take Eneresh alive, if at all possible. It's uncertain of how Vennedes and her people will react to you: For all they have strayed against the rule of law, they may yet hold a fear of the Emperor in their hearts. Perhaps they may be convinced to stand down. If not, this city ill has need of rabble rousers like her at this juncture. Do what you can, but remember Eneresh is your foremost priority."

The Legatine pauses a moment, a brief flicker of a grimace appearing across her pale features before disappearing just as quickly. "Given the fortifications of the Carmine Tower, breaching the tower may be difficult, even with the poor equipment of Vennedes' people. If necessary, the Thunderhawk 'Angel's Penance' is on station for a strike. Don't hesitate to call for reinforcements if you need them either-If anything like the courtyard happens again, pull back and call for reinforcements. Am I clear?"

Palais puts her hand over her heart. "No charging into a horde of Daemons for glory and honor? Just stab me in the heart, Legatine."

Lethicia chuckles. "You can charge in with the reinforcements. Young firebrands like you are always trying to hog all the glory for themselves!" Lethicia jokes. "Beside that, Palatine Rathitta wishes for you transport supplies to a forward operating base in the area. She also wishes you investigate into some friendly units in the area and ascertain their condition, as well. Some local enforcers and a Hospitaller unit that's fallen out of vox contact. The enforcers have been out of contact for weeks at this point, but with the Emperor's grace they may yet live. The Hospitaller were last seen just last night-I expect it's just comm problems. If you could help them get back into contact, I would be grateful."

"A final warning...Keep an eye out for any cult elites in the vicinity of the Carmine Tower, Sisters," She says, sliding a dataslate over. On it is a set of pictures: A heavily muscled heretic covered in strange tattoos, a military grade autogun with suppressor and red-dot sight, a set of high explosive tube-charges and a breaching charge, a half visible cameleoline cloak that blends in with the wall behind, a set of curious contacts that you realize are photocontacts after a moment, a light flak vest, and climbing gear. "These are pictures of the intact heretic corpse recovered from the attack last night. The team was professional, and managed to evade both the PDF patrols and infiltrate the exterior fence and barbed wire. Squad Morena only uncovered them because they'd been issued an auspex, Emperor be thanked. We believe them to have been experienced guerillas from some the indigenous anti-Imperial tribes that come from the deep swamp. Outpost Vigilance reports sightings of similar individuals around their perimeter, so I ask you remain alert."

From:Legatine Lethicia Gereth dal Emedius
After the unleashing of the horrors of the warp within the Little Cog district yesterday, the cult is making a concerted effort to seize the fortified tenement that houses the rogue psyker Eneresh and her allies, though they appear to be holding their ground at this time. Nonetheless, the risk of her capture and use by the heretics cannot be allowed. Prevent her capture at all costs. If possible, bring an end to Vennedes activities-it matters not how. Be warned, the building is heavily fortified, though information suggests the lowest floors are partially flooded. Be warned: A low wall designed to halt vehicle traffic rings the structure, and the surrounding area is suffering from notable road collapses and poor maintenance. Vehicle usage will be difficult: Proceeding on foot is suggested.

A forward outpost 'Vigilance' which overlooks the tower has been under heavy siege by cult elements and requires resupply. As you are heading into the area, the Palatine has tasked you with transporting some supplies to your Sisters there. How many you take will be discretionary, but they've requested three munitions lockers so that can support an assault on Carmine Tower.

There are two friendly units in the are of uncertain providence. An enforcer post in the area has been out of contact for some time-With the Emperor's protection, perhaps they yet remain. A local Hospitaller group providing civilian aid has missed a few check ins as well. Hopefully it'll just be vox trouble.

Friendly Forces in AO:
Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth and one squad of the Swords of Faith mercenaries (Plus attached Taurox transport)
Elements of the Order of the Pure Water
Possible Enforcer Presence
Elements of the Mission of the Wreath of Casita
Elements of the Commandery of Dalia's Oath
1 Thunderhawk available for tasking (1 free usage)
Local Militia(?)
Local Enforcers(?)

Primary Objective: Prevent the Cult of Old Night from capturing Eneresh.

Secondary Objective 1: Take Eneresh alive.

Secondary Objective 2: Eliminate the threat offered by Vennedes and her supporters.

Secondary Objective 3: Resupply forward operating chapel 'Vigilance'.

Tertiary Objective 1: Preserve the Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth

Tertiary Objective 2: Investigate Enforcer Post

Tertiary Objective 3: Investigate Hospitaller Post

Expected Opposition:
-Cult of Old Night: Poorly equipped and poorly armed. Little if any body armor should be expected, and armament beyond improvised explosives or heavy stubbers are likely to be rare. They have confirmed support from mutants, and an elite unit has been seen assisting in the assault of the Carmine Keep. Mortars and RPGs have been reported by outpost Vigilance.
-Vennedes Supporters: A mish-mash of gangers, militiamen, and common civilians expected to be poorly equipped and armed, but may have looted some armaments and equipment from local enforcer stations and are expected to be well entrenched. May not offer coordinated resistance against Adepta Sororitas, and poorly organized. Even compared to the cultists, this is a fractious organization of different rival factions banded together solely by Vennedes' charisma and a shared goal.
-Bandits and looters: Poorly equipped and armed. Anything larger than a heavy stubber is unlikely. They are unlikely to attempt to contest with Adepta Sororitas.

Requisition: 91 points each
May take one free Rhino Transport: May choose the Transporter (Viatorem) or a Razorback variant. Note: Viatorem stormbolter system has been relinked to pilot. Alternatively, may be transported to operation zone.

Zeitgeist Blue · Aug 2, 2019

Shephard said:
A moment after Squad Morena's report, Palais allows her bolt pistol to fall, turning away from her kneeling position at a corner of the hallway. She strides back to you, giving a helpless shrug. "An awkward interruption...But I am gladdened you see your fault, Sister."

Palais comes to a halt, meeting your gaze firmly but warmly "Do you remember the Saint's Lament, Sister? 'Weep for the Emperor, for He gives Himself for us all. Weep for the heretic, who turned her back on the Emperor's grace. Weep for myself, for, in my frailty, I still fall short of the Emperor's will.' We all fall short. We're mortals, striving to follow the example of divinity. It's recognizing those mistakes and turning away from the dark paths they risk leading us down that we draw closer to the Emperor's Light. It's through owning up to how we've failed, and paying penance for it."

She places a hand, comfortingly, on your shoulder. "I believe you are sorry, sister, and I am grateful for it. I forgive you. But redemption is earned not through words alone, but deeds. So...Go forth, and sin no more."

She turns away, glancing down the hallway. "Let's get back to patrol."

The end of Eriko's impromptu confession and the attack foiled by Squad Morena marked the beginning of a quiet night, uninterrupted by nothing more than the occasional Sister awake at night and in the halls. Either they were patrolling like Eriko and Palais, or they were on some other errand like a late prayer or meal. In any case, this left the two mostly alone and Eriko found herself with an opportunity to speak with her Sister-Superior.

"I was able to eat evening supper wih a few of ours Sisters.We spoke of who we were before the Mission, among other subjects." Eriko says as they walk through a suspended walkway between two towers. She glances outward, to the walls of the sanctum-Imperialis and beyond, the world's moon hanging heavy with fog.

"Yet it occured to me that I still yet do not know as much about the Sisters of my own squad. Caelia is eager to tell anyone about her Velorumite heritage to anyone who would lend her their ear, but neither Ilana or Maria are so ready to do so."

When the pair reach the end of the walkway, Eriko pushes on the door and holds it open.

"Each for different reasons," she continues once Palais steps inside. "While Maria is charasterictically tight-lipped, Ilana is--," and she hesitates clearly, searching for a diplomatic enoigh word before shaking her head. "Not as well as she should be. Of course, I doubt any of the three would care to speak with me outside of missions."

She turns to look at her Sister-Superior and her eyes linger on Palais' burn scars. "But they are not here while you are. How about you, Sister-Superior? What is a daughter of the Kavarea Void Lords doing with the Adepta Sororitas? What is a former Dominion leading a squad of the 6th Mission?"

Shephard said:
@SirLagginton @Mina
The night is restful, despite the interruption and brief spates of wakefulness for your time at watch. The comfort of a soft bed, the steady rhymn of the storm and your own exhaustion manage to lull you to sleep with ease.

The morning is dark. Literally. A glance out the window shows black skies overhead, a pouring rain so thick and heavy it almost feels like a physical presence. Yet, the Dreverarch PDF troops that patrol the perimeter seem at utter ease despite the downpour, and the scant civilians you can see through the storm seem to be going on with their day as readily as yesterday.

The interior of the sanctum-Imperialis is much less peaceful as Sisters and the Ministorum staff assigned to your Mission and the Commandery rush to and fro. As you make your way down to the ground floor for morning prayer, you spot a group of heavily armored PDF troops in segmented suits of ochre armaplas plates stomping their way past some of the Ministorum support staff, headed by what seems to be an officer of some rank judging by his cap, practically chasing the Palatine to the doors of the chapel. When prayers are ended, they scramble after the Palatine. Some Sisters passing by you in the halls are at a near-run, and as you sit down for bowls of steaming oats prepared by the Mission's cooks, a squad of Sisters in full plate scramble in to snap up supplies of ration bars.

It's after breakfast the first mortar shells hit the courtyard of the sanctum. You feel a soft rumble as you set your dishes in place, the quiet rumble of the explosions a moment later. A few moments pass, filled with the clatter of dishes before the next round of detonations shakes violently through the building, flakes of dust kicked from the ceiling landing across the shoulders of your robes.

"That last one must have struck the roof," A Sister from Jessira's commandery comments with a yawn.

The armory is a bit of controlled chaos, enginseers and Battle-Sisters cracking open whole crates of munitions, others performing the arduous task of mounting Sisters in power armor. As you are wrapped in ceramite and servo muscle, the psalms of awakening are sung, the reactor and servos stoked to life, and the Machine-Spirit comes haltingly to life, bits of dust rain down at you from the ineffectual mortar shells that strike the Sanctum Imperialis.

Another rattle of the building sends a cloud of dust drifting downward into the mass of Sisters, and Eriko does her best to cover her own food from the chalky substance.

"Annoying little heretics," Eriko says to herself, her words dripping with disgust and loud enough for those around her to hear. "If they mean to ruin breakfast then they are doing a good job of it."

The last dust settles and she quickly resumes eating her meal, finishing it just in time for the next roof-shaking, dust-filled mortar strike. Then she deposits her tray and strides purposefully for outfitting.

The process takea its usual time and Eriko intones her prayers and psalms as initiates of the Adeptus Mechanicus flow around her, setting muscle and plate as she moves through motions practiced and trained into her. Chants of binary harmonize with her Imperial hymns, tools spark in tandem with the beating of her heart. A human body performs a slow dance with the Storm of Summer, holy flesh and blessed ceramite.

For her no time passes.

Then as all participants in the dance finish she steps forward, legs supported by powerful servo-joints.

"And we, man and machine, shall be the Emperor's vengeance." She reaches for her helm and fastens it to her side, mag-locks grabbing it securely.

She is ready and soon her Sisters of Squad Palais are too and as one they emerge from the armoury.

Shephard said:
When at last you pull free from your moorings, you make your way down the halls to the room your superiors have taken as their command center, to find the carapace clad PDFers attempting a staring contest with some of the Celestians (And losingly, badly), their officer visible speaking to Palatine Rathitta and Cannoness Jessira inside. From inside you can raise out raised voices and the crackle of comms Though you struggle to hear much over the background noise, you do make out a few snippets (Greendoor perception check success).

"...ord about the cause of the explosion in the temple dis..." Jessira you think, though the reply seems uncertain.

"...eavily entrenched at the Candleweiss river. Mines are..." A servant, you think.

"...Fire in the twists' ghetto when attacks against the perimeter are..." Male this one-The PDF officer, perhaps? It's hard to tell, as a shell shakes the building as he speaks.

"...expects better! Get me eyes on that mortar position, now!" Definitely Rathitta, that one.

One Celestian motions you to a with a tilt of her helmet, toward a nearby room set aside for briefings.

Whatever the room may have once been used for, it would have been spacious, not the back half dominated by a small, portable hololith projector. Legatine Lethicia greets you with a warm smile that brightens up her pallid features, and proffered recaf, tea and dataslates. She is wearing her full honor covered armor save for the helm, and her refractor field, both of which sit on the lip of the flickering projector. The youthful women taps at the brass augmetic in her throat. A cough to clear it leaves a curiously metallic twang in the air.

Another figure are also there to greet you, clad in a fine grey coat and wide brimmed hat covered in religious symbols that mark him as a witch-hunter. A lanky figure, with an angular face like a hunting bird. He tips his hat at Sister Ilana.

"Good morning, Sisters. I hope you slept well, despite the ruckus the locals are making?" The Legatine asks. "No? Good, good. Anyway, for those of you who haven't met him in person, this is Vahn Zayneth, an experienced witch-finder whom some of you have already had the opportunity of meeting. He'll be accompanying you for today's operation, alongside a group of the local...What do the call the guilder sellswords? It was something catchy like Brassnecks?"

Vahn nods, content to remain quiet.

"Good, got it in one,"Lethicia continues. "He knows the local area and people well, including Eneresh. Given your quarry today, you'll likely make some good use of him. You'll be going after that wayward witch, Eneresh."

Palais blinks at that. "She's been upgraded to priority tasking?"

Lethicia nods her head. "Indeed, we're sending you right after her, but I'll get to that in a minute. First, based off gathered information-Some by those here among us-" She says, motioning a hand toward Zayneth and Ilana. "We believe she is currently holed up along one of the major leaders of the riots, Vennedes, in a tenement referred to as the 'Carmine Tower'. It's some sort of fortified housing block. Based off a Velorum pattern. Hardened structure, easily defensible, internal command post for a unit of enforcers or PDF. Not actually red, despite the name and the color on the projector. I believe it's more that a lot of people have killed each other over it, which is a good deal less cheery."

Vahn leans forward, motioning at the imposing structure visible on the flickering hololith. "That's correct. It was part of some abortive fortification plan before the Choir War. What's important is that the enforcers that were meant to keep control of the place are long gone. These days, it's basically prime bragging rights for whatever scum gang or militia group hold it. It's been a sight of some savage sieges over the years-including two enforcer raids, which went badly-Though it's rarely fallen to external force. Of course, they weren't the Emperor's Daughters."

As you examine the picture, you realize the tower is surrounded by a low wall that would make vehicle access difficult. The surrounding area leading to it is marked by a number of small engagement marks, indicating substantial combat.

Lethicia nods. "An overflight of our thunderhawks has confirmed the cult has the tower under siege. Based on that, unless there's some truly convoluted plot going on, we can confirm Eneresh and the cult aren't exactly on speaking terms," She says, waving at icons of enemy forces assailing the tower on all sides. "Though the cult's made little headway so far, given what occured at the fountain yesterday, we can't risk the enemy getting their hands on a powerful psyker. Emperor only knows what horrors they could perform with a witch like Eneresh in their care," The Legatine says, making the sign of the aquila. "I pray that given the Archenemy's assault on Eneresh and her allies, that they may yet be redeemed and brought back into the Emperor's fold. I would ask you take Eneresh alive, if at all possible. It's uncertain of how Vennedes and her people will react to you: For all they have strayed against the rule of law, they may yet hold a fear of the Emperor in their hearts. Perhaps they may be convinced to stand down. If not, this city ill has need of rabble rousers like her at this juncture. Do what you can, but remember Eneresh is your foremost priority."

The Legatine pauses a moment, a brief flicker of a grimace appearing across her pale features before disappearing just as quickly. "Given the fortifications of the Carmine Tower, breaching the tower may be difficult, even with the poor equipment of Vennedes' people. If necessary, the Thunderhawk 'Angel's Penance' is on station for a strike. Don't hesitate to call for reinforcements if you need them either-If anything like the courtyard happens again, pull back and call for reinforcements. Am I clear?"

Palais puts her hand over her heart. "No charging into a horde of Daemons for glory and honor? Just stab me in the heart, Legatine."

Lethicia chuckles. "You can charge in with the reinforcements. Young firebrands like you are always trying to hog all the glory for themselves!" Lethicia jokes. "Beside that, Palatine Rathitta wishes for you transport supplies to a forward operating base in the area. She also wishes you investigate into some friendly units in the area and ascertain their condition, as well. Some local enforcers and a Hospitaller unit that's fallen out of vox contact. The enforcers have been out of contact for weeks at this point, but with the Emperor's grace they may yet live. The Hospitaller were last seen just last night-I expect it's just comm problems. If you could help them get back into contact, I would be grateful."

"A final warning...Keep an eye out for any cult elites in the vicinity of the Carmine Tower, Sisters," She says, sliding a dataslate over. On it is a set of pictures: A heavily muscled heretic covered in strange tattoos, a military grade autogun with suppressor and red-dot sight, a set of high explosive tube-charges and a breaching charge, a half visible cameleoline cloak that blends in with the wall behind, a set of curious contacts that you realize are photocontacts after a moment, a light flak vest, and climbing gear. "These are pictures of the intact heretic corpse recovered from the attack last night. The team was professional, and managed to evade both the PDF patrols and infiltrate the exterior fence and barbed wire. Squad Morena only uncovered them because they'd been issued an auspex, Emperor be thanked. We believe them to have been experienced guerillas from some the indigenous anti-Imperial tribes that come from the deep swamp. Outpost Vigilance reports sightings of similar individuals around their perimeter, so I ask you remain alert."

Eriko nodded her head at Zayneth in greeting. She had read the report, about how he and his men had held against the Apostate and his heretics before the Adepta Sororitas reinforcements could arrive. She could respect such competence and adherence to duty.

Then the briefing begun and she listened.

"These guerillas," Eriko says, shaking her head lightly. "They pose no threat to us in direct combat but their explosives would make short work if we are not careful. And there is also the matter of when we are extracting Eneresh. Between letting her live or killing her, the heretics might choose to deny us their prize if they see us taking off with her, and these guerillas seem the most adept at such a task." Her hand sweeps across hololith, towards Outpost Vigilance. "It would be best to eliminate them before approaching Carmine Tower. Yet we would need to find them first when we arrive at Outpost Vigilance with the supplies."

From:Legatine Lethicia Gereth dal Emedius
After the unleashing of the horrors of the warp within the Little Cog district yesterday, the cult is making a concerted effort to seize the fortified tenement that houses the rogue psyker Eneresh and her allies, though they appear to be holding their ground at this time. Nonetheless, the risk of her capture and use by the heretics cannot be allowed. Prevent her capture at all costs. If possible, bring an end to Vennedes activities-it matters not how. Be warned, the building is heavily fortified, though information suggests the lowest floors are partially flooded. Be warned: A low wall designed to halt vehicle traffic rings the structure, and the surrounding area is suffering from notable road collapses and poor maintenance. Vehicle usage will be difficult: Proceeding on foot is suggested.

A forward outpost 'Vigilance' which overlooks the tower has been under heavy siege by cult elements and requires resupply. As you are heading into the area, the Palatine has tasked you with transporting some supplies to your Sisters there. How many you take will be discretionary, but they've requested three munitions lockers so that can support an assault on Carmine Tower.

There are two friendly units in the are of uncertain providence. An enforcer post in the area has been out of contact for some time-With the Emperor's protection, perhaps they yet remain. A local Hospitaller group providing civilian aid has missed a few check ins as well. Hopefully it'll just be vox trouble.

Friendly Forces in AO:
Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth and one squad of the Swords of Faith mercenaries (Plus attached Taurox transport)
Elements of the Order of the Pure Water
Possible Enforcer Presence
Elements of the Mission of the Wreath of Casita
Elements of the Commandery of Dalia's Oath
1 Thunderhawk available for tasking (1 free usage)
Local Militia(?)
Local Enforcers(?)

Primary Objective: Prevent the Cult of Old Night from capturing Eneresh.

Secondary Objective 1: Take Eneresh alive.

Secondary Objective 2: Eliminate the threat offered by Vennedes and her supporters.

Secondary Objective 3: Resupply forward operating chapel 'Vigilance'.

Tertiary Objective 1: Preserve the Witch-Finder Vahn Zayneth

Tertiary Objective 2: Investigate Enforcer Post

Tertiary Objective 3: Investigate Hospitaller Post

Expected Opposition:
-Cult of Old Night: Poorly equipped and poorly armed. Little if any body armor should be expected, and armament beyond improvised explosives or heavy stubbers are likely to be rare. They have confirmed support from mutants, and an elite unit has been seen assisting in the assault of the Carmine Keep. Mortars and RPGs have been reported by outpost Vigilance.
-Vennedes Supporters: A mish-mash of gangers, militiamen, and common civilians expected to be poorly equipped and armed, but may have looted some armaments and equipment from local enforcer stations and are expected to be well entrenched. May not offer coordinated resistance against Adepta Sororitas, and poorly organized. Even compared to the cultists, this is a fractious organization of different rival factions banded together solely by Vennedes' charisma and a shared goal.
-Bandits and looters: Poorly equipped and armed. Anything larger than a heavy stubber is unlikely. They are unlikely to attempt to contest with Adepta Sororitas.

Requisition: 91 points each
May take one free Rhino Transport: May choose the Transporter (Viatorem) or a Razorback variant. Note: Viatorem stormbolter system has been relinked to pilot. Alternatively, may be transported to operation zone.

Eriko tapped the dataslate in her hand.

"We could use some orbital surveillance, whatever Dreverarch's military could provide." Then she reaches out with a hand and zooms out, showing both the Carmine Tower fortifications and the 'Vigilance' forward outpost. "It would be useful to have real-time intelligence on the area of operations. If the surveillance could create tags for us and identify the worse fighting then it may be possible to evade wastes of our time and energy."

She looks down at her handheld dataslate then pauses in thought before speaking up. "While we are in transit to Vigilance it would also be a good idea to use the orbital surveillance to obtain intelligence on the Enforcer and Hospitaller posts both. Hopefully, vox troubles indeed."

Then she returned her attention to the flickering hololith, leaning forward as if she could gleam some secret from the projection.

"Do we have an internal blueprint of the Carmine Tower, Legatine?" Her eyes flick towards Lethicia then back down. "If we could determine where Vennedes' command center is, assuming Eneresh shall be by her side and a way through without fuss, then we could assault the command center unopposed. Grapnels would be sufficient. Maybe jump packs like Sister Ilana is fond of using."

"Psycrystals and psyocculums to determine Eneresh's location." She pushes a finger into the tower, causing the hololith to flicker violently, yet she continues her musings undeterred. "Demo charges or melta to breach the walls. Assault from an unexpected angle. Eliminate and subdue all opposition then extract using the breach we created. Vennedes' forces will soon crumble and disperse without a central figure to lead them, especially when rumors begin to circulate of what had happened to her."

She stands up straight, a small smile on her lips. "Yet no one shall be the wiser but us."

(OOC: Study the the Carmine Tower hologram. Try to identify if there are areas where Squad Palais could take to breach the tower that would lead to less resistance, like a backdoor. Also find where the command center of the tower is, if it is in one of the higher floors or in the basement. See if a grapnel and line ascender would be useful in either breaching the walls or climbing the tower to the command center.)

Faith and Fire

Still in Statis

Currently Made of Metal

(Verified Door)

Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun

Still in Statis

Currently Made of Metal

(Verified Door)

Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun

Still in Statis

Currently Made of Metal

(Verified Door)

Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun

Still in Statis

Currently Made of Metal

(Verified Door)

Still in Statis

(Verified Door)

Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun

Currently Made of Metal

Still in Statis

Currently Made of Metal