Iterator Interlude 2
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- United Kingdom
Iterator Interlude 2
Behold then, the Lords-in-the-Trees, behold their mighty works!
The wonders of the Great City were limitless. Truly had never considered anything like it.
The young man liked to think of himself as a well-travelled warrior, he'd fought in raids, taken sacrifices and danced the sacred dances of his people, he'd lain with women, and travelled to the towns of other tribes in the great jungles of the Southlands.
But Pharos, the City of the Gods, was something else entirely.
Apparently this was everyone's reaction. The central spire of the Kingmaker, the mighty temple of the Mechanicus, was perhaps the most massive single building in the world, though Lukeni had heard that some elven spires were taller, though spindly and weak…
Lukeni had been recovered by the Lords-in-the-Trees, and by their chief, the Star-Lion himself. He had little memory of it, he remembered light and magnificence, shining steel and wings of gold. Then he woke in a sickbed, hundreds of miles away, having been healed by the Star-Lion's presence and then sent for recovery. He had intruded, unwillingly or not upon the domain of the Lionlords themselves but rather than striking him dead for breaching the Realm of the Gods, the Star-Lion had set him upon the True Path.
Lukeni was taken by the priests of the Lion, those men and women called Iterators. He was sent to a place of learning, the Schola Indigena, he studied there, learnt of what he'd once called magic, learnt chymistry and mathimatika, he sang in the Choir of Ten Thousand, composed entirely of the natives of Mallus, and he attended the Readings of the Dead by the Archpriest of the Lionlords.
By day he learnt, and by night he taught. The sky-people came to him for information. They asked all manner of things, from the names and qualities of plants to the history of earthquakes and the former teachings of the old religion. In each case they clarified and classified, so that the might Ironhide became the Ferructus, while the sneaking muck-stalkers of the southern gullies became the Foetedon.
Much had been revealed to him, wonders and terrors, and after a year and a day he was dispatched back to his own people to teach them. Each day he would preach the Lectitio Divinitatus, standing upon the sacred stone of sacrifice and worship, he would sit beside the Honoured Mothers (though behind a cloth screen as was proper) and advise them. Heretics were shown the error of their ways, and the Sotek worshippers were stamped out.
Once, in yet another wonderous experience, Lukeni even spied a Lionlord hunting in the forest, wrestling a mighty Ironhide and snapping it's neck, laying it out on the floor and taking it's skull for a trophy. Lukeni led his folk to the corpse after and they gave worship with the meat of the beast.
All was well in the jungles. There was a single abortive attempt by a confederation of tribes who held to the old ways to unite against the Lords-in-the-Trees but Lukeni led his people and scattered them, mounting the pyramid of Sotek and sanctifying that place with the blood of the faithless.
Life in the jungle changed relatively little though. There was no more conflict between tribes, though the rituals of war still took place under the auspices of the new priesthood. Sacrifices were still given, but no longer of death, rather the folk of the jungle gave their lives for the Emperor, heading out toward the Golden Tower where the Lionlords sent their servants to bear them away to the Emperor's wars.
Three years later, Lukeni knelt before the Iterator Prime and received his silken stole and staff. He went, commanded and ordered, certified and anointed, out into the towns of Araby as one of a new cohort of missionaries and advisors to the people of that land, his abilities recognised and rewarded.
He ruled his territory by word, delighting in the destruction of the Arabyan gods. In one case, he assured Mechanicus Enginseers that they could indeed locate their railyard over a particular spot.
"The local's don't seem best pleased." the Skitarii Ranger Alpha remarked, thumbing the activator of his arc-maul.
"I assure you, my lord," Lukeni replied easily, "This place was merely a midden heap, there is no wider significance."
The Arabyans shouted and gesticulated as the excavators unearthed the corpses of their ancestors, and Lukeni grinned. The Arabyans had tormented his people for centuries in their slave taking and raids of the coasts, and he was glad he could revenge himself upon them, even if by only destroying the graves of the already dead.
Life was good, Lukeni brought the True Faith to the region, he stamped out the unfaithful just as he had in the jungle, and after a time he was returned back to Pharos, this time to teach those who had once been like him. He stood alongside his colleagues from the Iterators, as well as those from the original Missionarus Galaxia sent alongside the Celestial Lions' fleet.
"This new cadre will do well, I think." said one Drill-Abbot to him as they ate together during a break, "They have the intellect, and the zeal I think, but I fear for their purpose."
Lukeni's confusion must have been evident.
"What I mean," the missionary continued, "Is that while the Missionaria's taught everyone well, I see fundamental flaws. It's hardly my place to say, I know Confessor Hermina has spoken to the Arch-Factor about it… There is inflexibility, a lack of proper systems. We send our students out, students like you, without a clear idea of what they're to do, other than preach."
"Is that not our purpose?" Lukeni asked.
"Yes." The missionary admitted, "But, it's been the Missionaria's perspective that preaching itself isn't enough. Did you attend the Arch-Factor's address last year? Of course you did, but you remember, he said 'In order to make them civilised, we must first make them men'? Fundamentally the Iterators are attempting to implement a dozen projects at once. There isn't enough training, enough understanding of the cultures we're sending our people out into. Why, only last week I heard about a purge of one tribe who'd taken in heretics from another tribe who'd warred with a loyalist group previously. The regional governor considered the sheltering of refugees as a prelude to an attack, so he struck first, but it wasn't, that tribe just happened to follow a culture where hospitality was sacred. As I say, inflexibility… You might also say that the Iterators have been rolled out according to an unsuited design. We in the Missionaria have taught others, but the Arch-Factor controls it all, he administrates the scheme, but he does so as a high ranking Chapter Serf and a servant of the Astartes, thus he considers all matters in relation to his position, he cannot prevent the Astartes from doing as they please, even moderating them, consider this fire cult they have going for example-"
"I would not think those words wise." Lukeni remarked, looking around. While he'd lost some of his wonder he was still a pious man. "It is not wise to even think such things." While it might be reasonable to criticise mortals, even implying that an Astartes, the Chapter Master no less, had made a bad decision was stupidity, and worse, heresy… The Elysian Pyrocult of the Lions was well known as a source of contention among the more orthodox elements of the Ecclesiarchy on Mallus, but it was rarely spoken of.
"True enough." the Drill-Abbot replied, and bent to their food.
Behold then, the Lords-in-the-Trees, behold their mighty works!
The wonders of the Great City were limitless. Truly had never considered anything like it.
The young man liked to think of himself as a well-travelled warrior, he'd fought in raids, taken sacrifices and danced the sacred dances of his people, he'd lain with women, and travelled to the towns of other tribes in the great jungles of the Southlands.
But Pharos, the City of the Gods, was something else entirely.
Apparently this was everyone's reaction. The central spire of the Kingmaker, the mighty temple of the Mechanicus, was perhaps the most massive single building in the world, though Lukeni had heard that some elven spires were taller, though spindly and weak…
Lukeni had been recovered by the Lords-in-the-Trees, and by their chief, the Star-Lion himself. He had little memory of it, he remembered light and magnificence, shining steel and wings of gold. Then he woke in a sickbed, hundreds of miles away, having been healed by the Star-Lion's presence and then sent for recovery. He had intruded, unwillingly or not upon the domain of the Lionlords themselves but rather than striking him dead for breaching the Realm of the Gods, the Star-Lion had set him upon the True Path.
Lukeni was taken by the priests of the Lion, those men and women called Iterators. He was sent to a place of learning, the Schola Indigena, he studied there, learnt of what he'd once called magic, learnt chymistry and mathimatika, he sang in the Choir of Ten Thousand, composed entirely of the natives of Mallus, and he attended the Readings of the Dead by the Archpriest of the Lionlords.
By day he learnt, and by night he taught. The sky-people came to him for information. They asked all manner of things, from the names and qualities of plants to the history of earthquakes and the former teachings of the old religion. In each case they clarified and classified, so that the might Ironhide became the Ferructus, while the sneaking muck-stalkers of the southern gullies became the Foetedon.
Much had been revealed to him, wonders and terrors, and after a year and a day he was dispatched back to his own people to teach them. Each day he would preach the Lectitio Divinitatus, standing upon the sacred stone of sacrifice and worship, he would sit beside the Honoured Mothers (though behind a cloth screen as was proper) and advise them. Heretics were shown the error of their ways, and the Sotek worshippers were stamped out.
Once, in yet another wonderous experience, Lukeni even spied a Lionlord hunting in the forest, wrestling a mighty Ironhide and snapping it's neck, laying it out on the floor and taking it's skull for a trophy. Lukeni led his folk to the corpse after and they gave worship with the meat of the beast.
All was well in the jungles. There was a single abortive attempt by a confederation of tribes who held to the old ways to unite against the Lords-in-the-Trees but Lukeni led his people and scattered them, mounting the pyramid of Sotek and sanctifying that place with the blood of the faithless.
Life in the jungle changed relatively little though. There was no more conflict between tribes, though the rituals of war still took place under the auspices of the new priesthood. Sacrifices were still given, but no longer of death, rather the folk of the jungle gave their lives for the Emperor, heading out toward the Golden Tower where the Lionlords sent their servants to bear them away to the Emperor's wars.
Three years later, Lukeni knelt before the Iterator Prime and received his silken stole and staff. He went, commanded and ordered, certified and anointed, out into the towns of Araby as one of a new cohort of missionaries and advisors to the people of that land, his abilities recognised and rewarded.
He ruled his territory by word, delighting in the destruction of the Arabyan gods. In one case, he assured Mechanicus Enginseers that they could indeed locate their railyard over a particular spot.
"The local's don't seem best pleased." the Skitarii Ranger Alpha remarked, thumbing the activator of his arc-maul.
"I assure you, my lord," Lukeni replied easily, "This place was merely a midden heap, there is no wider significance."
The Arabyans shouted and gesticulated as the excavators unearthed the corpses of their ancestors, and Lukeni grinned. The Arabyans had tormented his people for centuries in their slave taking and raids of the coasts, and he was glad he could revenge himself upon them, even if by only destroying the graves of the already dead.
Life was good, Lukeni brought the True Faith to the region, he stamped out the unfaithful just as he had in the jungle, and after a time he was returned back to Pharos, this time to teach those who had once been like him. He stood alongside his colleagues from the Iterators, as well as those from the original Missionarus Galaxia sent alongside the Celestial Lions' fleet.
"This new cadre will do well, I think." said one Drill-Abbot to him as they ate together during a break, "They have the intellect, and the zeal I think, but I fear for their purpose."
Lukeni's confusion must have been evident.
"What I mean," the missionary continued, "Is that while the Missionaria's taught everyone well, I see fundamental flaws. It's hardly my place to say, I know Confessor Hermina has spoken to the Arch-Factor about it… There is inflexibility, a lack of proper systems. We send our students out, students like you, without a clear idea of what they're to do, other than preach."
"Is that not our purpose?" Lukeni asked.
"Yes." The missionary admitted, "But, it's been the Missionaria's perspective that preaching itself isn't enough. Did you attend the Arch-Factor's address last year? Of course you did, but you remember, he said 'In order to make them civilised, we must first make them men'? Fundamentally the Iterators are attempting to implement a dozen projects at once. There isn't enough training, enough understanding of the cultures we're sending our people out into. Why, only last week I heard about a purge of one tribe who'd taken in heretics from another tribe who'd warred with a loyalist group previously. The regional governor considered the sheltering of refugees as a prelude to an attack, so he struck first, but it wasn't, that tribe just happened to follow a culture where hospitality was sacred. As I say, inflexibility… You might also say that the Iterators have been rolled out according to an unsuited design. We in the Missionaria have taught others, but the Arch-Factor controls it all, he administrates the scheme, but he does so as a high ranking Chapter Serf and a servant of the Astartes, thus he considers all matters in relation to his position, he cannot prevent the Astartes from doing as they please, even moderating them, consider this fire cult they have going for example-"
"I would not think those words wise." Lukeni remarked, looking around. While he'd lost some of his wonder he was still a pious man. "It is not wise to even think such things." While it might be reasonable to criticise mortals, even implying that an Astartes, the Chapter Master no less, had made a bad decision was stupidity, and worse, heresy… The Elysian Pyrocult of the Lions was well known as a source of contention among the more orthodox elements of the Ecclesiarchy on Mallus, but it was rarely spoken of.
"True enough." the Drill-Abbot replied, and bent to their food.
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