Secret War: Warhammer 40,000

Chapter 7

I paused just outside the entrance of Glaitis’ tower, my hands inside the pockets of my flak jacket, a smoking Lho stick hanging out the corner of my mouth. It was good to finally get out of my bed, out of that hospital and away from the stench of disinfectant mixed with crap. It was nice to be able to escape into the day, and as if to make it even more cliché it was raining.

While looking up at the overcast sky, my thoughts wandered. According to good medicae Feuilt I had barely been in a coma for two days, but Feuilt had said earlier that I had yet another’s month’s rest before I could be at peak performance and despite this, the medicae had given me a clean bill of health much to his evident bemusement.

Even more interesting was that barely moments after Feuilt had answered my call for aide my heart almost immediately stopped, the medical staff had worked for a good half an hour to try to revive me but to no avail. Then just after they had given up my heart seemed to mysteriously start back up again my eyes opened and then I fell into deep unconsciousness. That was the second time I had come close to dying it seemed...Cheap.

So it seemed that was what Glaitis had mentioned in my dream; the Eldar’s test having apparently “almost killed me” perhaps me managing to stop that walk through the ruins of Elbyra was signifying my escape from death’s door.

I shivered, once again recalling the images that I had seen and quickly forcing them from my mind.

That was a time of my life which I would rather forget, but now, that Xenos had dredged it up from the far recesses of my subconscious and just for what? Some test? What kind of sick creature would put someone through that?

I could still recall what the Eldar had said to Glaitis, it’s thoughts on humanity as a whole and for the first time I actually felt sorry for my mentor, to have to commune with such a creature would be beyond my comprehension and then it said that it wanted for me to follow in Glaitis’ footsteps.

My wet, long brown hair was now in my eyes, and I was forced to brush it from my face. Never would I ever ally with the Eldar, never would I willingly do something so idiotic after what it had put me through, after seeing first hand its horrific arrogance and disregard for humanity.

I lowered my head and sighed out smoke, taking the almost all the way smoked Lho with thumb and forefinger dropping it to the rockcrete then stamping it out with the tip of my shoe.

“Time to get this over and damn well done with,” I muttered as I walked through the automatic sliding doors simultaneously my hands instinctively slipping back into their respective pockets.

I rode the elevator up, spending the entire time tapping the tip of my shoe on the floor impatiently.

It was more due to the cravings, the consequence of over a month without a smoke, already I had burnt through six Lhos on my walk over here, but that didn’t seem enough, frig it.

One thing which had also taken my notice as I collected my belongings when leaving Taryst’s tower I noticed the distinct absence of Colonel Barhurst.

When I asked the colonel’s second, major Olinthre and he answered that Barhurst was sent away on recruitment duties that it was a recurring thing that the great colonel would every six months annually leave for two more to search for new members for Taryst’s private army.

When I pointed out that it seemed unorthodox for the colonel himself to act as the recruiter, Olinthre just shrugged and said; “hey it’s always been that way kid and hell you won’t hear me complaining about it.”

I nodded my thanks and left, this proved to be yet another interesting development, yes. Was it a mere coincidence that our little incursion against the Twilight Bar just happened to coincide with Barhurst’s leave of absence? But why? He wasn’t at all a threat to us, and so I was unable to fathom the reasoning behind it, but I knew with every fibre of my being that it wasn’t a coincidence, there was no such thing in this line of work.

After what seemed to be forever the Elevator finally to found the fifth floor and I stepped out the double doors.

“You’re late,” said Hayden Tresch, he was a big man, standing well over two metres and built like an Astartes. Like Torris, he was once an Arbitrator, but unlike Torris, his demeanour was one which I could imagine an Arbitrator possessing, a no-nonsense professional attitude and a ruthless one at that.

How he had left the Arbites to become an Assassin working under Glaitis, I had no idea, but I knew that he had been with Glaitis straight from the very start and was the oldest in our organisation.

From what I knew he was at least a decade older than my erstwhile mentor, and ironically for a person of such large stature he was a sniper and the best I have ever seen. I could only assume that such a stony resolve would be a great contributor to that line of work as quite a few snipers I have met, and a few I have killed seem to adhere to this temperament.

He was also a very skilled hacker but was nothing compared to Vex.

I physically winced, just remembering that I had yet to see the kid to apologise.

I liked Hayden I could not help but respect his hardline attitude, but he had a softer side which he let reign from time to time, he reminded me of Garrakson, a version of Garrakson which was a whole lot grimmer and harder anyway.

The other waiting in the hallway made me frown and furrow my brow; it was Darrance who sneered in contempt when he saw me and sometimes I could swear he looked more feminine than many actual women I knew.

“Why it’s good to see you to Hayden,” I said.

The ex Arbiter smiled ever so slightly, but Darrance sniffed loudly, then his attention snapped straight at me, his face as hard as a stone.

“You’ve been smoking,” he stated.

I sighed, Darrance must have been in love with Glaitis or something as he followed her every order to the letter and will reinforce this with an almost fanatism which is ironic as Tresch would allow for far more leeway and he was an ex Arbitrator.

“The mistress has a strict policy against the smoking of Lho for which everyone must adhere!”

Now it was Tresch’s turn to sigh, “give the kid a break Darrance after what he went through I think he is entitled to it just this once, but Attelus just make sure none of us actually catch you do it or else-”

“Or else you will have no choice but to bring it to Glaitis’ knowledge,” I finished, “fair enough and thank you for the leeway.”

Although in all likelihood Glaitis knew well of my recently resurfaced habit.

It was in that instance I could not help wonder if anyone else working for Glaitis knew of her ally, which I did indeed doubt it but out of all of us Hayden would. As I stated earlier, he was the most longest serving in our organisation. Also how long precisely has she been allied with the Xenos anyway?

I pushed away these thoughts; there would be time to dwell on them later.

“So Glaitis said for me to come here for briefing.”

“That is “mamzel” Glaitis to you, apprentice,” said Darrance, “and yes we are here to brief you. Let us get this farce over and done with, shall we? We have an interesting development from the Twilight Bar incident that the mistress thinks you may find interesting although I do not know what you could ever possibly attribute is beyond me.”

My jaw set ever so slightly, “and what is this “development” exactly?” I asked.

“That is exactly what it is, apprentice,” said Darrance, “a development. No more, no less you will see what it is soon enough.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to be briefed on what it is I am about to see before being shown it?” I pointed out.

Darrance raised his finger, about to argue but was interrupted by Tresch as he chuckled.

“Yes Glaitis mentioned that we are to “brief” you didn’t she?” he said, “let’s just say we want it to be a surprise okay?”

“Actually, she said that just you were just to brief me, without Darrance.”

Darrance sneered at the slight but did nothing more.

Tresch shook his head, “alright enough smart mouthing from you kid, I’m not sure I can stop Darrance if he decides to try slice you to ribbons, let’s move on kid.”

We walked on, through the thin, poorly lit corridors Tresch in the middle Darrance and I on his left and right flanks.

“Attelus, so how much of your one-man storm of the Twilight Bar do you remember exactly?” asked Tresch lightly.

.“I remember most of it except what happened after the Arco-flagellant charged me everything after that is a complete blank.”

“And so,” said Darrance, “then you remember that it was your own stupidity that led to your horrific injury, that mistress Glaitis’ is your master that she has far more experience and intelligence than you will ever have, do not disobey her again for she always knows what to do, she has never lead us astray.”

I sighed, as much as I hated to admit it Darrance had a point, but he had no idea just how true his words were. It was then that I couldn’t help wonder; some people worshipped the Emperor, some people worshipped the Ruinous powers, some people worshipped money, I suspected that Darrance adored Glaitis, oh if only he knew the truth if he knew what I knew.

Finally, we reached the end of the corridors; two guards stood on sentry at both ex-Imperial guard veterans, both under Glaitis employment. Our organisation may revolve around assassins, but for basic sentry work, we had a small contingent of just over five hundred mercenaries.

Both the poor bastards looked bored out of their skulls, but if anything Glaitis paid them well, and it was an easy job so they wouldn’t complain.

They nodded respectfully to Tresch, and one opened the door for us.

We walked into a small room, the walls metallic and reinforced like a holding cell and through a panel of one-sided glass I could see a slightly larger room, Castella stood with her back to us as she stared intently into the other room.

She looked over her shoulder and treated us with a smile.

“Good to see you’re up Attelus,” she said.

I nodded and smiled back about to reply but cut myself short as I saw what the other room contained; One man sat alone tied up to a chair, he was haggard, old and beaten to a bloody pulp.

I approached closer to the window, gaping shock, the wounds were brutal and would scare him for life, the torture this poor man had been through I could not imagine.

“You don’t recognise him?” asked Tresch as he stepped up beside me.

“No,” I said softly, “should I?”

“He was the one you fought in the Twilight bar,” answered Castella, “he was wearing a full faced helmet, so I don’t blame you for not knowing.”

I turned to her, my eyes wide with shock at the razor-sharp edge in her voice and almost immediately her attention went straight to the floor as though to evade my look.

“Even if he hadn’t worn a helmet I doubt that I could recognise him now. How? How did you capture him?”

“He attempted to escape through a secret passage in the bar,” said Darrance, “mistress Glaitis herself was waiting outside and accosted him there, she revealed that she knew of the exit from the schematics but chose to keep it a secret.”

Well, I knew that there could be yet another reason how she knew, but I kept such thoughts to myself.

“Its obvious now that mamzel Glaitis wasn’t intending at all for us to plant the bugs,” I said, “that it was a ploy so she could capture this man.”

But that wasn’t just it I was utterly sure, and I suspected it would in some way or another coincide with the absence of Barhurst.

“Good deduction Attelus,” said Castella, “we have made the same conclusion also.”

I smiled, savouring the compliment.

“But one thing I don’t understand is if the infiltration of this bar was extracurricular, away from Taryst’s devices why are we still under his employment?” I said, “wouldn’t he have been pissed that we went behind his back?”

Darrance shrugged, “maybe the mistress had actually informed master Taryst of it and told us otherwise, we are assassins we are only told no more than what we need to know.”

“Hmmm,” was my only reply as I placed my finger and thumb onto my chin in thought, it was a valid point and one that I have considered but somehow I doubted it, and again my thoughts reeled back to the coincidental pre-ordained absence of colonel Barhurst.

One thing that was also interesting as to why I was shown this I did not know if I still had the implant in my brain or not perhaps the psyker which Glaitis had brought in to heal me also got rid of it, but surely his psykers would have noticed that? Perhaps it was still there, and this was because of a new more open alliance between the two? Or it could be as Darrance said that Glaitis had actually informed Taryst of our espionage of the club and they were in a more open alliance than they had insinuated right from the start?

“So you want me to talk to this man?” I asked, deciding not to reveal my thoughts to my colleagues, not yet anyway.

“Yes,” said Tresch, “we’ve been talking to him over the past month but has yet to reveal any reliable information, and as you well know we are sure he is a Throne agent of some form so his mind will be blocked from any psychic intrusion. ”

“We also never revealed anything on your condition to him,” said Castella, “I bet that he will be shocked to see you up and about.”

I could not help grinning at that.

“Alright, send me in,” I said.

I stepped into the interrogation room, and as I closed the door, the man suddenly started, spluttering into consciousness so abruptly it made me flinch in fright.

His back was facing me, and he attempted to turn his head to try to see who had entered.

“What the hell is it now?” growled the man, his voice horrifically horse but whistled slightly due to a severely broken nose, “is that teal haired bitch come back to beat on me again?”

I was approaching him as he said this but the words causing me to stop in mid-stride although I couldn’t see the three assassins standing watch I turned to face the one-way glass anyway my eyes wide, my jaw hung open expressing the deep shock I felt.

Castella did all this? She was the one who had beaten this man so brutally?

That would have been something that I would expect from Darrance and even Tresch, but Castella?

Perhaps my disbelief in her claim of me saving all those people in the Twilight bar was inherently justified. Perhaps she wasn’t at all who I thought she was, I have seen some gruesome things in my very short life but what they did to this throne agent, was hard for even me to stomach.

Tearing my attention back to the brutalized man I felt something I would not have expected to feel.

I felt truly and utterly sorry for him, I had expected to be angry, to hate the person who had ruthlessly let loose the arco-flagellant to slaughter me and to cover his escape but in all honesty, I could understand it. He had a mission to complete, although one I did not know and if the stakes whereas high as he seemed to believe them to be, once again it came down to the saying “anything and everything to win.” He too was a professional like me, but there was one huge difference between us; he was doing a job which in his view was right and true. I am not and yet now here he was, trapped, beaten and unable to do what he needed to.

I could not help but wonder how he felt, it seemed that so much hung the balance for him was he not just defiant outwardly but actually genuinely? Or perhaps he was actually terrified and depressed? Scared that his capture would invariably lead to his mission to fail?

This I wondered because in all my life I had never known real conviction, I worked, and that was that, never did I ever believe in any “cause” it was the job and only the job to get it done and move on, that this throne agent’s world seemed so foreign it almost alien to me.

That was the way of the mercenary and to be honest to say that it was quite depressing really is an understatement of breathtaking scale.

“Who’s there stop hiding whoever the hell you are!” the man yelled, struggling in his bonds.

Without any word I moved into his field of vision, holding the water flask that Tresh had given me up to the man’s face and he drank from the straw greedily his eyes to black and swollen to make out who I was.

I was unsure what to say, never before had I actively taken part of any interrogation, a few I have witnessed, but that was all, taking away the flask I finally said: “I survived you know.”

The man’s attention snapped straight up at me as he obviously recognised my voice but it was impossible for me to make out any expression then he shook his head and spat blood out on the floor.

“Well goody for you,” he said bitterly.

I was not so sure if it was actually “goody for me.”

“I’m sorry for what my colleague did to you,” I said.

“Well your sorry isn’t going to affect anything kid,” replied the man, “I know that this is the how the world spins, I’m a professional, I know this is all part of the job.”

Then he wheezed out what I could only guess to be a laugh, “maybe next time I should try to negotiate my contract.”

“That would indeed be wise,” I agreed, and I could not help but feel an edge of respect for the old man. “And in all honesty, I am not sure that we will ever wean any information from you, you seem to be a man of conviction that so much so that you would rather die than give us whatever we want.”

“You’re a smart kid,” he said, “but your “colleagues” don’t seem to agree.”

I looked sidelong at the one-way glass, “no I guess they wouldn’t.”

“Or that or they know it but choose to avoid the fact,” said the man.

“Or that,” I agreed, “but can I ask a question?”

The man’s nose whistled as he attempted to sniff, “kid, do I look like I capable of keeping you from asking it? Although I do still hold the ability not to answer, so I am not going to guarantee you will get one.”

I paused not sure on how to word it at first.

“W-what is it like?” I could only stammer.

The man sighed, “what is what like kid?”

“What is it like to, I don’t know, to be a person of conviction? What is it like to be a person to believe in something so much that they would willingly die for it?”

What seemed to be incredulity crossed the man’s beaten features, “that was the very last question I guessed that you would ask.”

“Answer or don’t answer,” I said impatiently, “as you said it is still your choice.”

“It is,” said the man, “and I will answer but on one condition.”

“What is it?” I growled.

“Before you said that “whatever we want” as if you didn’t know what I was being interrogated for is that true?”

I frowned, bemused, “did I say that?” I shrugged, “well it is really “whatever we want” as I don’t know if you are actually Brutis Bones or not, I know that if you weren’t, my colleagues would be interrogating you to find out where he is.”

“And if I was Brutis Bones?” queried the man.

I smacked my lips realising that I didn’t actually know, “I could hazard a guess,” I admitted hesitantly, or thousands I thought sourly, “why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said the man lightly, “and now I will answer your question, and the answer is, I really don’t know.”


“Kid, in all truth I have always been this way. I have always believed that the God-Emperor knows what is best for humanity, that in my service to the Holy Inquisition I can truly aide in that plan, to be this person of “conviction” as you call it is as natural to me as breathing. So asking me that is like me asking you what is it like to inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide.”

“Well, that’s,” I trailed off, scratching my head, “well that’s anticlimactic, who the hell are you anyway?”

“No one of consequence.”

“I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

“Hmm, okay.”

“Actually, I lie,” said the man, “because you are a strange one I will give you information, information that I have so far kept hidden from your associates and I only give it because you might already know it.”

“What is it then?”

“Your boss Taryst holds someone captive, someone, of great influence.”

I would have asked “who?” but did not want to give away that I actually didn’t know.

The man smiled with gapped teeth and those still in where cracked and loose.

“He holds in that tower of his my superior, my Inquisitor’s Interrogator he has kept her as a hostage right from the beginning of this debacle.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral and glanced to the reflective glass then my microbead buzzed and Tresch’s voice came through.

“Attelus get out here now.”

I nodded and moved to leave then the man asked; “hey where are you going, kid?”

“Thank you for the information, No One of Consequence,” I said, “but now I have more pressing issues to attend to.”

“You really didn’t know did you?” I heard the man say just before I closed the door.

I stepped into the observation room my attention to the floor I sighed and slipped my hands into their pockets.

“Is he actually Brutis Bones?” I asked.

“No,” answered Tresch, “we don’t believe he is.”

“I thought as much,” I sighed again, “and Tresch, sir, did you look at the schematics of the Twilight bar when you took them from the local database?”

“No, when mamzel Glaitis ordered me to get them she also ordered that I could not look directly into the file.”

“Hmm right,” I looked up and saw both Tresch and Darrance where there to greet me, but Castella was strangely absent.

“Uhm where did Castella go?”

Both Darrance and Tresch briefly looked sidelong at one another; the glance seemed to be almost nervous.

“She left apprentice,” answered Darrance impatiently, “are we now finished with your line of inquiry yet?”

I looked at them both, bewildered, wondering why they had such a strange reaction about Castella’s absence “n-no, w-what the hell are we to do with this new information?”

“Why nothing apprentice,” said Darrance simply.

“What?” I snapped, “if what he says is true we could-”

“Taryst is our employer,” interrupted Darrance, “while I agree this information is valuable and I have no doubt, this “No One of Consequence” is telling the truth, you forget that we are still under Taryst’s employ, who he holds and doesn’t hold captive is his own business and what are we going to make of it? Go up to Taryst in his tower and demand that he confirms this accusation?”

“But!” I tried.

“I agree with Darrance kid,” said Tresch, “this information is something to lean on, we know it, and that is enough for now.”

With a sigh and a frown, I said, “yeah I guess you’re right.”

“Of course we are right, apprentice,” said Darrance, “you seem to forget that we have been in this game a lot longer than you have.”

Tapping my shoe against the floor, I finally asked the question I have had one hell of a time to dredge up the courage to ask them.

“Uhm, can you tell me what the hell exactly happen in the Twilight bar?”

Both Darrance and Tresch glanced at one another again and then it was Tresch turn to sigh.

“Sorry kid,” he said, ’but we’re under strict orders not to tell you.”

“Hmm, right,” I said, finding myself utterly unsurprised and more than a little bit upset.

The awkward silence must have lasted no more than ten seconds before Tresch finally broke it.

“You’re dismissed by the way Attelus,” he said, “get back to you’re hab unit, and we will contact you when we need you, is that understood?”

I nodded as that was all I could manage and turned to leave but as I did Tresch said at my back.

“By the way good work on the interrogation kid.”

I stopped in my tracks my back still facing away and felt a smile spread across my face, to be complemented by Tresch in such a way was something to be proud of.

“Th-thanks,” I said, and I walked out the door.

I didn’t go to my apartment, instead electing to go back to Taryst’s tower. There was still that specific promise I had to keep, and I had every intention to see it through, despite the nerves playing hell on my guts.

In all honesty, I understood why Tresch and Darrance would sit on this information, but neither of them seemed particularly surprised they could have known or didn’t care either one would not surprise me at all.

Sighing to myself I turned off the main street into one of the many alleyways leading to Taryst’s tower, having decided to take the long route around, but yet something didn’t feel right, ever since I had left Glaitis’ tower I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched.

I paused to look over my shoulder finding that once again no one was there, shrugging to myself I turned to continue but immediately froze in my tracks as I saw the figure appear right at the other end of the alleyway.

I flicked my wrist, ejecting a throwing knife from its sleeve into my hand. So my paranoia was justified after all, could this be one of Brutis Bones’ mooks?

There was one way to find out, and I began to walk toward the person, he was in shadow, but I could make out that he stood at just under two metres tall and built like an Astartes could it be Tresch who had tracked me here to tell me off for now following his orders.

I made a few more metres when three more figures joined the original in blocking my path, and I glanced over my shoulder to see to minimal surprise four more were beginning to approach from the other entrance. I could see now that they were all wearing expensive black suits with no gang markings or anything at all.

But they had yet to draw a weapon on me, Interesting.

Now the others at the end began to advance on me; they were all brimming with confidence so sure of themselves well that wasn’t entirely unjustified as there were eight of them.

I activated my microbead to call for backup, but my only reply was white noise.

Hissing a curse I stopped, now they were close all eight they had me surrounded, and I had no way of getting any reinforcement, but in all honesty, I relished this a test of my abilities after my recovery.

I grinned, “so, you guys come here often?”

They didn’t answer to my quip only kept on approaching all with stony expressions.

“Hmmm,” I shrugged and without hesitation threw my knife straight into one of the nearest man’s throat, and he fell to the floor gurgling, dying.

The rest didn’t seem to notice at all as they stopped their dogged advance and one by one drew their weapons, all of them wielded axes, small wood choppers which would be easy to conceal and potentially do a whole lot of harm, the smart bastards.

One attacked, with a cry he lunged sweeping out his axe at my skull.

Despite my month-long recovery, despite what I had gone through my body never forgot what to do and in the blink of an eye I drew my sword from its scabbard and stopped his attack with the raised blade, and I could glimpse an expression of incredulity spread across his face.

Three more followed their mate before I could counter, swinging at me with their respective axes.

I parried a vertical swing, ducked under another, and I sidestepped the third.

With a laugh of delight and the blood singing in my veins I ejected another throwing knife from my sleeve as another two came at me one axe slashing down at me the other following around horizontally, I parried them both with quick-fire movements with my sword.

One followed on with a front kick aimed at my chest but I countered, slipping away from the attack and by stabbing my knife straight into his thigh, the man screamed in agony but before I could do anything more the rest of his buddies were onto me.

I swayed under one swinging axe and smacked away another flurry of attacks all from individual opponents.

One assailant came at me from behind but I was running on instinct so sidestepped his attack barely, and I turned my hips, smashing my elbow into his face which impacted with a hefty crunch as I shattered his nose.

I blocked a horizontal slash by bringing my blade over my elbow and knocked down another with an overhead sweep. After Front kicking the first attacker in the guts, I back peddled from another three as they converged on my flank. I blocked the overhead slash of the first and countered by throwing my knee around into his solar plexus. The second I parried, but the third was already on me so I was forced to knock away his before I could ever hope to counter. I repelled a fourth assailant’s attack then another as he attempted to open an ugly wound in my torso. One tried for a low blow swinging his axe in an arc aimed at ripping into my thigh.

Back peddling from that attack he followed on by slashing at my skull, an attack which I ducked I was just in time to turn to face another on my flank, barely managing to block his slashing axe.

Clenching my teeth, I countered by kicking him in the knee with my boot knife. The man howled out in pain but I was not quick enough to stop another’s front kick from colliding into my torso, the blow knocked the wind out from me and sent me stumbling back. I ignored the throbbing pain to recover just in time to duck under a sweeping axe and saw much to my amusement the man had a messed up bloody nose.

With a roar, the man twice my size crouched down low and charged straight at me, in an obvious attempt to spear tackle me to the floor.

I sidestepped and front kicked the blade the at the tip of my boot into his torso, sidestepping another slash I parried a follow-on swipe then boxing swayed under a back fist and brought up my blade right into his wrist.

The next two flew straight at me I parried the first, a vertical slash then the second’s overhead attack. The first followed and to quickly for me to counter by punching me square in the face, his fist met my jaw with a crack! And sent burning waves of pain through my head, I was sent stumbling back just recovering in time to duck another axe.

Clutching my face with my free left hand I slashed out at my attackers, the attack stopped dead as one blocked, but I slipped my sword from the hilt of his axe into a vertical slice at his comrade in line who back stepped out the way, now it was my turn for the offensive.

I slashed at the third and he to block, but with all the momentum I could muster my attack caused his block to turn out allowing me to bring around my elbow into the side of his skull and to make sure I roundhouse kicked my boot knife into his armpit as he collapsed.

I grinned at the four remaining attackers raising my sword; I could feel my breaths were now coming out as ragged gasps I didn’t know if I could keep this up for much longer my fitness was not what it once was.

Then with a roar, they made to charge.

“Stop,” the deep, commanding voice echoed through the alley causing the four assailants to stop immediately, though standing with barely contained restraint and as I turned to the speaker; my jaw dropped.

The leader was wearing light blue power armour covered from head to toe and a long brown cloak hanging from his shoulders.

And emblazoned on the power armour’s chest a gigantic very unsubtle “I.”

“S-so are you Brutis Bones?” I stammered.

“No,” said the Inquisitor as he began to approach me and shaking his head, “I bear no relation to your mark.”

He pulled out his Rosette and held it out although it was somewhat unneeded.

“I am Inquisitor Nonin Edracian, and I would very much like to talk to you young Attelus Kaltos.”

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