'And once more shall the gods of men walk among their people.' [IC]

[Morganatic]

Cadia - or what's left of it - glides majestically through space beneath you, occasionally obscured by the wreck of an Imperial or Chaos cruiser. The poor planet - so long abused by those who fought over it, raked its surface with star-killing fire, burrowed deep beneath its crust like so many weakening termites - expired early in Abaddon's Fourteenth Black Crusade, its continents shattered and its volcanic heart bared by a thousand cyclonic torpedoes. As a flaming hulk, Abaddon's flagship - Planet Killer - achieved what it could not achieve in its thousand years of service, and, having plunged down through the planet's atmosphere and into its core, detonating its complement of vortex torpedoes and shattering the planet.

Over the past six months, gravity has inexorably drawn the Cadia's fragments back into some semblance of a world, but it's a poor shadow of its former self, no more a fortress world than a dismembered body is a living, breathing person. Some particularly enthusiastic Magos Tephologis have already begun developing plans to begin dropping prefab fortresses and bastions onto the world, and rebuild from beneath the ground up, but it's empty boosterism, the sort of mindless, inane response of people who've lost hope but can't admit it yet.

As you look down on what may be the end of the Imperium, from the viewing deck of the recaptured Blackstone Fortress (one of the few clear gains of the battle), it's difficult to see where it all went wrong. The God-Emperor of All Mankind stirred from his ten thousand year slumber, tore the fabric space and warp asunder to project a message of hope and vengeance into each of your minds, speaking to you with the voice of all humanity, and bade you come to this place. To see what? The aftermath of an apocalyptic battle? The ruins of a world? Mortarion's corpse paraded by Lord Draigo in bittersweet pageantry, before what remains of the Cadian Storm Troopers? Once you boarded the Blackstone Fortress, there's been no hero's welcome for you, no grand purpose, only a lot of blank, shell-shocked looks, and suspicion. You've been herded into this waiting area by a rather incongruous group of plain-robed Administratum adepts, and then left to ponder the view below, plied with a slightly queasy selection of whatever delicacies could be evacuated from Cadia before the end. It must have been a week now, but nothing's happened, nothing's changed. Over time, a spectacularly diverse set of other Imperial servants have found their way to this antechamber, but, after the long journey, conversation has been limited, and not exactly encouraged by the Administratum adepts, who give every indication of monitoring and scanning you, making only a token effort to hide it.

Until, just like that, something does change.

A door, to be precise. A door opens in the corner of the room, releasing a noticeable puff of dust as it does so, its hinges grating. In the doorway is an armoured man. Taller than the norm, but perhaps a head shorter than an Astartes. Dark skin, darker round the eyes from weariness and exhaustion. He's clad in an eye-wateringly ornate suit of jet-black power armour, but, around elbows, knees, gauntlets, the coat of paint's worn away, revealing a deep, rich, gold. A longsword, clean of line, and unadorned save for an integrated bolter at its hilt, hangs from his shoulder. He grimly surveys the lot of you, taking in weapons, armour, clothing and symbology from a galaxy-spanning empire with a long-suffering eye, then straightens up.

'M'sires, m'dames, apologies for keeping you waiting. I assure you that I shall be with you imminently - I would be able to brief you sooner, but Castellan of what is, now, literally nothing, Ursakar E. Creed is an insistent man. A very insistent man.'

He gestures with an angrily squawking vox-piece.

'I've checked your identities enough times now to have an acceptably low doubt that you are who you claim to be, so we can dispense with all that ludicrous operational security at this point. And to be honest, I'm more than a little willing to start briefing anyone I see, at this point. If you acquaint yourselves with each other, what you bring to the table, what Him on the Throne showed you, that would be advisable. Very advisable. I'll only be a moment.'

He wheels, slams the door, and the more observant among you might even pick out the tread of power-armoured feet, and even raised voices, behind it. You're left alone with each other - plus ca change - but now, it seems like the Emperor's purpose might have found you again.

[Emperor Ing]

Amongst the assembled is the unnervingly silent form of a figure draped in a crimson cloak, the grey edges of which are stylized to resemble a cog. All of it brought together into a grey metal disc with the insignia that gave the creature wearing it away as a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

The insignia is misleading though, the relationship is love-hate at best.

From underneath the Mechanicus cloak's hood peered out four different sized, almost haphazardly arranged glowing green lenses looking out from a dark metal box where the being's head should be. The creature is haloed by a magnificent array of prehensile mechadendrite claws centered by another green lens. The massive array is only broken by four objects. One, a massive mechanical arm looming over the figure's shoulder, another is an impressive yet fearsome array of instruments. Finally, hanging on his side are two mechadendrites, each ending in strange weaponry that vaguely reminds you of melta weapons.


The Magos himself (if it can even be considered a "he" anymore) kept an eye on all his surroundings, making sure at least one optical mechadendrite was looking in one direction. It moved with an eerie unnatural silence. The only way to detect his presence is to see the figure. Other than that, nothing tracked its movements short of the billowing of the cloak through the recycled air and its physical progress.

Upon coming to meet the others, the Magos trains his head and a large number of the lens-claws on the others. Ironically, the same creature who barely made any sound upon entering the Fortress is the first to break the silence.
Blessings of the Machine God be with you. What is it that brings you to this sacred station?

[DrK]

V556

The vindicare stands silently in the corner of the room. Dressed in his sheer black scan absorbing spy suit with his face obscured by an archeotech spy mask. Two ornate belts of some sort of technology are slung around his waist with a pair of exotic looking pistols.

THe assassin looks at the others from his corner, saying nothing and not moving as he assesses the others. At the techno mages words he will nod to the others before whispering "I am Vindicare 556. I was ordered here".

[Hawkwings]

Cassandra

A haggard and exhausted-looking Cassandra was standing near the viewport, still gazing down at the planet she had been born on, had called home, and was now a ruined mess. It had been more than a week, and yet she had still not come to terms with what had happened. She doubted she ever would. There were few things more constant in this galaxy than Fortress Cadia. One of them, of course, was the God-Emperor himself, which was presumably why they had all been brought here.

Turning to see the short speech given, Cassandra felt a little spark of life, of energy, not just in herself but within the other gathered people as well. It didn't take a psyker to know that everyone was on edge, and nerves were wearing thin. Here, finally, might be something that was worth it all.

And of course, the legendary Lord Castellan himself was present. Few leaders impressed Cadians, but Creed was one of their own and certainly worthy of their respect and admiration even if he was not a son of Cadia. With him at the helm of, or involved in, whatever was going on here, the chances of success were magnified tremendously.

At the instruction for introductions and sharing of revalations, Cassandra scoffed a bit. It wasn't like there had been much else to talk about in the time they had spent here. Still, it did no harm repeating for the newcomers, and Cassandra felt like she had to remind herself as well of who she was.

"I am Inquisitor Cassandra Rae Malva, loyal daughter of Cadia," she started. "I know not the details of our purpose here, but what I do know is that we will exact vengeance most terrible on the Great Enemy for this," she said, gesturing to the viewport. "So I have seen, so it shall be done. The words and light of the God-Emperor are with us all, and we shall not fail His sacred trust in us! For He, who has spent ten thousand years silent, has spoken to us at this moment, for all humanity's sake. I do believe that the endgame now approaches, and we shall stand at the precipice between disaster and eternal victory..."

[Daisuke1133]

Drake Mithras

Against the far wall opposite the door leans a tall and well-muscled soldier dressed in combat fatigues over synskin, his arms crossed over his chest and his head leaning forward. Occasionally illumination from the lights glints off the man's dog tags. The hood of the synskin was receded, revealing his face scarred from hand-to-hand combat. At his hips, he wears a pair of laspistols; and at the small of his back is a large knife nearly a foot in length and three inches in width.

Since his departure from Karsus, Drake had spent a good deal of time inebriated. When he could be bothered to stay sober, he was in awe to be traveling to mighty Cadia. Word of the great fortress's fate had not spread far, it would seem. Seeing the devastation it had suffered left him sombre. To see its people as broken as the planet itself was one of the most disheartening things he had ever seen. Now he saw that the Emperor had sent his chosen where the Imperium was in most need of heroes to uplift it.

"Drake Mithras. Specialist in the 442nd Karsusian Fusiliers." he says, letting his arms drop back to his sides and walking away from the wall and towards the others. "I was sent here as a customarily assigned combat observer by my home regiment. We had no idea that such a fate had befallen this world, though."

[rb780nm]

Sister-Sage Marachena

The Adepta Soroita that accompanied Inquisitor Atticus into the room stands silently behind her patron. Even in her power armour, she is somehow diminutive, casting an unthreatening presence. Even in her silence, her identity is clear, she is Sister-Sage Marachena of the Ordo Dialogis - based upon the name embossed upon her armor and the various sigils about her.

She wears her helmet clipped to her belt, and her stormbolter - with a wickedly sharp sarissa blade - slung over her shoulder. The ornately gilded cables of an archaic model of MIU hang down her chest, coming from behind her head, where they are probably rooted into her skull.

[Emperor Ing]

Standing before the Greatest Machine, the beneficiary of the most reverend device did what could never be done centuries. The Tech Magos recalls.
In the presence of the...suprisingly lightly armored Adeptus Custodes and their most reverend sentinels in the God-Machines themselves standing vigilant over the One who rests upon the Golden Throne. Even from that impressive height, I knew that he was looking at me. A voice, the voice I knew to be of that One, spoke to my mind, instructing me here. There is a hint of giddyness in his voice that is most unnerving. If one is so inclined, it is not hard to figure out that this one has ulterior motives.
If you so desire to address me by name, you may know me as Levan Arkinger. Archmagos of the Lathes, and Honorary Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos.

[DrK]

V556

The assassin inclines a masked face towards the others before ghosting silently across the with almost prenatural grace and silence. Joining Cassandra by the viewing port- though still levaing plenty of space- he stares down at the ruined planet. Face a mask of emotionless immobility as he looks at the ruin of a world. "It was a cold day. High in the Northern Mountains. The rogue Commisar had fled north with a contigent of some 126 guardsmen as an escort. They hadn't helped him. The final shot had been satisfying. 2 days on the cramped cliff face before his prey had left the safety of his cave 1.45km distant. It was a good memory.

Edit: That was supposed to have been an internal thought there

V556 glanced back to the others and slowly removed the trademark spymask reveailing a grim unsmiling face and ashen grey eyes. Hair shaved short where it wasn't covered by the modified synskin stealth suit. What the magos had said had struck a chord. V556 had been in stasis, drifting through the cold void on one of the secret assinorium vessels when he'd felt a presence beside him. A being of golden light that had looked down on him and reached through the stasis pod. A word whispered in his ear that had resounded in V556's soul. "CADIA". After that he had awoken from his stasis pod and reprogrammed the drive controls directing the slight assasinorium vessel to intercept the bristling Blackstone Fortress in orbit over the ruined planet.

Now he waited patiently with the others. Curious to see what the Castellan had in the way of orders for them.

[Starbin]

Kylissa

Upon being ushered into the room, Kylissa had walked to one of the viewports, glancing out at what remained of the once mighty Gate of the Eye. After a few moments of staring, she had found a place away from the windows and door and took a seat. Crosslegged, with hands rested lightly upon her thighs, the slight figure in a shifting camo-cloak had entered a trance-like state, seeming to ignore the others. With the hood drawn low over her head, very little could be seen of her features, save that she was no taller than 1.7 meters, and perhaps weighed as much as 64 kilos.

Prior to the door opening, whatever talk the others engaged in, she appeared oblivious to. Oh, she was fully aware of what they were saying, but she chose not to speak. She waited, feeling the need to be hear as keenly as a blade across her hand, but unsure of why she felt that way.

When she had entered, she had felt a thrum within the room, a resonation she couldn't explain. Like the vibrations of an engine, the feeling had intensified when all of them had gathered. These figures who's faces she had never seen with her eyes, but were as familiar as anyone she had ever met.

The Man Machine. The Killer. The Sage. The Psycher. The Purist. The Soldier. The Blade. All gathered together here, as her dream had foretold. Brought together by He who sat on the Golden Throne. The images of that dream were as fresh as they had been prior to the destruction of Cadia.

The golden body sat slumped before the seven champions, gazing down upon them. The blazing halo behind the figure's head blurred His features, but He felt familiar ... He felt like home. Not her actual home, but the one she never knew, the one she couldn't remember.

As they knelt in awe, bathing in the glory that was the Father of Humanity, for that was who he was, threads of light appeared from the throne, reaching out to plunge into each of the seven. It hurt, hurt so bad, but in such a way that she didn't want it to stop. For an eternity, the pain kept her frozen, transfixed on her knees in front of the Golden Throne.

Then, as quickly as it started, the pain was gone and the throne exploded into a soundless flash of light. Standing in its place was a mighty warrior, bigger than the biggest Astartes, more magnificent than any icon, holding a razor sharp blade made of light. He swept the blade in an arc, motioning to the seven panting figures before Him, then pointed the blade upwards. Their eyes were drawn to the object of His focus; looking closely, their perspective suddenly zoomed in. They found themselves looking upon the Imperial wonder that was Cadia, with the Eye of Terror pulsing malevolently in the background. With a wave of dismissal, they were left with a faintly heard words echoing within their minds ...

"I am coming."

She had awoken in a sweat, the feeling of the Emperor's touch still upon her heart. Gathering her gear, she had left quickly, ending her self-imposed training exile on Iocanthos to make all haste for Cadia. The trip took a long time, too long by her reckoning, but there was little to be done. Perhaps the Eldar had ways, but the human race had not yet found those paths.

She arrived to realize her fears were correct - the planet was already dead, and control of the sector was no longer a well-founded assumption. To many, the war had just been lost, so focused on the near-term fight. Kylissa understood their despair, even if she didn't ... couldn't ... share in it. She had given up self-pity long ago, and knew that as long as the Emperor was alive, mankind would survive.

As if by chance, she saw a face that looked familiar. As she approached, she realized he was one of many that looked familiar, all gathering aboard a specific ship. Stepping forward, she moved to join them and was intercepted by a guard. With iron restraint, Kyrissa kept her hands motionless, leaving the guard's head still on his shoulders. Upon making eye contact, the others saw her for what she was and motioned to let her board.

Which, aside from a series of boring interviews, a number of pointless questions and inquiries, four broken bones and one rude (and now dead) interrogator apprentice, brought the group to the situation they found themselves in now. Waiting for something, anything.

And then the door opened.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Kylissa waited after the man had left, listening to see what the others would do. It took a few minutes, but they finally started opening up, introducing each other. Some of them were typical results of Imperial training - all bluster and polar extremes. They stood 'at the precipice between disaster and eternal victory...?' There were a myriad of opportunities and alternatives between those two book-ends. Regardless, these were the people from her dreams, the seven champions called forth by the Emperor. She did not have to like or agree with them just yet ... simply knowing they had all been summoned by the Father of Humanity was enough for now.

She took one deep, clensing breath, then stood in a single, fluid motion. Pushing the hood back, she turned to the others. Her appearance was as they had seen before, as they had already known from their own dreams. Her dark auburn hair looked blood red in the artificial light, constrasted with her deep green eyes. From what they could see of her, she was lithe and muscled, while her features seemed delicate and fragile.

She wore a black synskin similar to the Vindicare's, but without the tools woven in by the Officio Assassinorum. A simple gray bandolier with six small blades knives laid across her chest, while on her waist was a small belt with an exotic looking gemstone. A small metal disc hung on one hip, will a small pouch was on the other. Nearby, a pack and a compact weapons case were near where she originally sat down. However, there was a feeling that she was deadly in other ways than those obvious ones.

As she gazed at the others, her manner and demeanor spoke of little compassion or empathy for those around - a perfect match for many in the room. Glancing at each of the others, she spoke quietly, her low voice husky and halting, as if she was unused to speaking. "He calls, so I come. I am His blade and stand ready to slay his enemies. I was ... am ... Kylissa."

Looking around for a moment, she continued. "I know you from my dreams. Did you share that dream?"

Sorry it took a bit, but intro posts always seem to take the longest ... game on!

[bluntpencil]

A remarkably slight man stands quietly, nodding politely as the others speak. His armour and colours obviously mark him as some sort of man of the cloth, if the power-armoured Battle Sisters towering behind him don't give it away first.

His helm rests under his carapace-armoured left arm, his right hand casually resting on the hilt of a short polearm at his waist.

He raises his right hand, fiddling with the Inquisitorial rosette hanging from his neck. He looks back to his old friend, Sister-Sage Marachena, and smiles sadly, before introducing herself and himself to the others. His voice is soft, rather quiet, forcing people to listen carefully to what he has to say.

"I am not one to stand on ceremony. I assume we are all here for similar reasons."

He indicates Marachena.

"This is Sister-Sage Marachena, who, like myself, has had a vision of Our Man On Terra."

He also nods to the other sister accompanying him, as well as a small group of Naval officers, in what appears to be plain, service uniform.

"And these are my lieutenants, Canoness Victoria La Blanche, of the Order of Most Noble Service, and Commodore Sarah Finch, of the Battlefleet Koronus."

The ornately armoured Battle Sister doesn't move a muscle after being introduced, and remains entirely silent, although several Naval officers, who appear to be accompanying the stern-looking Commodore, shuffle somewhat.

"You may not know myself either, as it is a rather large galaxy. I am Inquisitor Lucien Atticus. As I mentioned, I too have seen certain things, although their source yet remains to be verified."

That was strange, surely? He, wearing the trappings of a priest, had just asked whether or not the visions were real.

He points towards the door that their host just left with an open hand,

"The visions we received, and the individual just leaving, may be a cunning ploy by the Most Vile And Inhuman."

He looks calm, however, and entirely restrained.

"We must be vigilant. I have been gifted with power anathema to untruths. We shall stay on target, my brothers and sisters."

[Morganatic]

Once the introductions are done, there is a short silence - only slightly awkward - before the Custodes opens the door, and beckons you in. His office is packed. Dataslates, sheafs of paper - the old-style, acid-white stuff, no parchment for him - and leather-bound books cover every surface, and it seems like he's chosen his furniture with the sole criterion of its data capacity - in the form of yet more stacks of reports, tomes, and information.

I'd be a good host, and offer you a seat, but it seems impossible. My apologies. My name - not my real name, I hope you'll understand, names have power - is Brother-Custodian Esdras Houstoun, and I'm pleased to meet you.

I won't bore you with a long introduction, or sermon. You all saw Him. He spoke to all of you. I've knelt by His feet for the better part of three millennia, and He never spoke to me, but I know His Will when I see it. His calling you here was a sign - a clear message that He was to return.

We've always known that it was possible for this to work - my masters and the Sigillite have known that He could be brought back since the start of M.33, or thereabouts and how to go about doing it. It's never been deemed to be the proper time, however - the translation of a spirit, of a god, back into mortal flesh is unsurprisingly, a tricky business. Prognostications have indicated - well, an unacceptable likelihood of failure and risk associated with such an endeavour, and so such plans have been put on hold. For the past few millennia.

Clearly that's changed, and clearly you have been picked to be the agents of His glorious return. Not necessarily who I would have picked, but then again, well-informed as I am, I am not privy to my master's omniscient grace, am I?

No matter. His godhead will shine upon you, and give you the strength and skill to know and to do what is necessary; and what you lack still, my Majestic masters can provide - in knowledge, support, and equipment.

To begin with, I'd ask you all a question - what do you know about the Primarch Project?'

[Emperor Ing]

As if reciting from a textbook, the Archmagos recites an abridged version of the Primarch Project.
Following the unification of Terra, plans to begin the Great Crusade to unite the lost colonies of mankind to the home world were underway. To help lead the armies of Man across the void, The Emperor hand-crafted twenty sons from his own DNA, each individual designed to be the paragons of humanity The Emperor required to lead not only the vast armies of Man, but the newly formed legions of the Adeptus Astartes created in the image of their respective primarch. I will not bore everyone reciting the events of the Horus Heresy.
Magos Arkinger cannot help but wonder if this Custodian is going to suggest restarting the Primarch Project.

[Starbin]

Kylissa

Standing back, away from the others, Kylissa listened to the Custodian speak and ask them about the Primarch Project. While she was aware of the origins of the Primarch, she was uncertain what the project had to do with their current situation. Was there another set of gene-seeds available, another group of Primarchs to rise up and lead new legions? If so, who would find them and bend them to the Emperor's will?

Or was it something different? What if it were similar to the original project, but instead of physical gene-seeds, the Emperor sent forward pieces of his own spirit, his psyche into a number of champions? The implications were staggering, given the dreams they had received. What if ...

Kylissa stood in silence, nonplussed at her own line of thinking. Mentally shaking away the train of thought, she focused on what the others were discussing, curious as to their take on the matter.

[DrK]

V556

The vindicare stands silently towards the back of the room, back to the wall and feeling slightly naked with the comfort of his long rifle slung on his back. He looked forward but kept his peripheral vision trained on the room and the people in it. The talk of the Primarch Project was beyond his know, he knew little beyond killing and the secrets of the Assinorium.

He watched the new inquisitor carefully, and the Soratias and the Battlefleet officers more so. Strange for a man to bring so many into his confidence, and even stranger that Battlefleet would lend a man 2 venerable cruisers...

Ghosting almost invisibly around the room as the others spoke he appeared alongside his fellow assassin, gauginer her carefully as one like hime he inclinded his head respectfully.

[bluntpencil]

Inquisitor Atticus glances back but once, and his lieutenants step back, allowing himself to attend the Custodian's office without them. They knew when they did not have clearance for certain matters, after all.

He smiles a little in thanks, then follows the others through. He does not answer their host's question as he assumes it to be somewhat rhetorical.

He raises an eyebrow and awaits the Custodian's exposition on the matter with some curiosity. He had his suspicions that the Primarch Project involved more than mere technology, and may have involved the use of the Emperor's prodigious psychic powers to create something akin to 'pure mutants', but that was all they were; suspicions.

[Starbin]

Kylissa felt, rather than saw, the Vindicare slide closer. Glancing over at the lean killer, she noted the details of his accoutrements and wondered what hidden weapons he carried. Perhaps in another environment, in a different situation, the two would find themselves pitted against one another; today, however, they walked on the same side of the Warp.

She was knowledgeable, of course, of the Vindicare Temple, as she was of all the unacknowledged temples contained within the Officio Assassinorum. Where she felt comfortable up close and personal, blade in hand, the Vindicares usually focused on death from a distance. Impersonal, detached, clean, they were masters of snuffing out the single required candle amidst many. Kylissa, on the other hand, would wait until the candle came to her ... or carve through all the others, if necessary.

She returned the single nod, a sign of respect from one predator to another. No words were necessary, as their shared areas of expertise spoke volumes. Interestingly enough, in the cycles to come, it might be the Vindicare that Kylissa felt the most comfortable around.

[Morganatic]

'Yes, quite right, the Primarchs were twenty war-leaders, from whom all space marines now claim descent. Nine of the the twenty turned to Chaos; many have died, or since been lost.

The thing is, the Primarchs were not entirely mortal, physical beings. The Emperor - and not just the Emperor - put rather a lot more into them than meets the eye. To be sure, they were warriors and leaders of incredible skill and fortitude, capable of walking through orbital firestorms unscathed, and slaughtering entire planets of Xenos and abhuman scum - but anyone could do that, given the numbers. No, the Primarchs were vessels, conduits, of power - who could sit the Golden Throne and master the energies of the webway, or who could break the Machine Spirits of the Men of Iron to their will; who could, by their very presence alone, set a sector alight with their flame of the Imperial Truth. Great and noble concepts need great and noble hosts, after all - and the Emperor and his Twelve Majestic Ones have always known that one day, we might need the greatest and noblest host of all. I'm sure that Atticus will know where this is going, but, ladies and gentlemen, it bears saying that we intend the creation of a daemonhost. The greatest daemonhost. Not for a daemon as such, but for a spirit that transcends daemons, that as is as far above them as the Imperium is above any one of us. Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to use the 'mortal' shell of a Primarch as the spiritual anchor for the return of the Emperor.

I have spent the past few months compiling research, information, intelligence on the remaining Primarchs that we might use for such a task, and that we might hunt out. It is not a particularly easy task, but there are certainly backchannels that might be used to find out such matters. I would be lying if I said that I was a trained manhunter, or had much experience. I'm a facilitator, not an assassin or servant of the Ordos, and so I - and clearly the Emperor - believe that the choice should ultimately be yours. Nonetheless, I am certainly capable of offering advice and a more learned perspective, should that be required or called for. Preliminary observations are …'

He looks around, initiating a minor archaeological investigation into his desk, before bringing out a sheaf of tatty printouts, which he hands out to the various gathered individuals.

'I've outlined a few possibilities, and a few suggestions. Magnus and Khan would seem to be most likely amenable to the sort of plan we have for them. Remember that all that's needed is a living Primarch. They don't necessarily need to come along willingly, so long as there's still a pulse. That said, I invite you to consider just how far in power a Primarch is above the finest Astartes, and just how far a Daemon Primarch is above them, and then just what they've largely been up to for the last ten thousand years - an indirect approach just might be advisable.

Oh, and you will try to keep these safe, won't you? It would be quite spectacularly bad - both for you, and the Imperium in general - if anyone outside this room, including Ms La Blanche and Finch - were to find out that we have this sort of information.'

{table=head]Primarch | Status | Location | Remarks
Lion'el Jonson | Alive, severely wounded | The Rock. | It's been a nightmare getting any information out of the First Legion. I doubt they'd part with him, relinquishing their Primach seems unlikely of them, to say the least.
'The Heldenhammer' | Lost | Last believed to be on the outskirts of the Eye of Terror - ten thousand years ago. | Unsuitable, and Emperor help us if he's still alive out there somewhere.
Fulgrim | Alive | Aboard the Firebird, on the outskirts of the Eye of Terror. | Pseudo-daemon, but still likely to be sufficient for our project.
Perturabo | Alive | On the Daemon World 'Medrengard'. | Pseudo-daemon, but still likely to be sufficient for our project.
Jaghatai Khan | Alive (?) | Somewhere in the Kabalite Webway. | Thought to be lost a number of times, but we've had word of him either fighting, working against, or in the company of Eldar Corsairs. A likely target, if you can track him down.
Leman Russ | Alive (?) | In the Eye of Terror. | Almost certainly dead, after ten thousand years in the warp, but a Great Company of his Legion managed it, so he might have done too. I'd worry that he divined that he'd only return at the end of time, though - it would be inadvisable to realise that prophecy.
Rogal Dorn | Dead | Relics on Terra. | Struck down eight thousand years ago. Unsuitable.
Konrad Kurze | Dead | Unknown. | Assassinated 544.M32 in an Officio Assassinorum raid. Unsuitable.
Sanguinius | Dead | Baal | Murdered by the Warmaster. Unsuitable.
Ferrus Manus | Dead | Istvaan V | Decapitated, body lost, and what relics remain subject to unknown genetic corruption. Unsuitable.
Rubinek | Lost | Unknown | All records destroyed. Believed to have fallen into Xenos hands. Unsuitable.
Angron | Alive | Commanding World Eater warbands in the Scarus sector. | Pseudodaemon, missing physical body following Banishment during the First War for Armageddon. Unsuitable.
Roboute Guilliman | Near-death | In stasis on Macragge. | Readily available, still alive, and I have a favour to call in from Chapter Master Calgar. The main worry is that he'd expire the instant he was removed from his stasis tomb - if there's some way of getting round that, though …
Mortarion | Dead | Hanging in the 666th chapter's trophy room. | Dead, despite my express instructions, at the hand of Lord Draigo. Unsuitable.
Magnus the Red | Alive | The Planet of Sorcerers, in the Eye of Terror. | An interesting choice - might well be willing to assist the project, despite his Daemonhood, and we certainly have his specifications from the Throne. Long-harboured resentment makes him a definite risk, though - there's no telling what he thinks of his Father after all this time.
Horus | Dead | - | Ha. Ha. Ha.
Lorgar | Alive (?). | Sicarus | Still alive, and extremely fickle in his beliefs. Meditating for the last eight thousand years, though, and no-one's seen him - could be far, far gone.
Vulkan | ? | Unknown. | Another Primarch prophesied to return at the End Times, but the conditions have yet to be realised, and we have no idea if he's even alive. Unsuitable.
Corax | Alive (?). | The Eye of Terror (?) | Fled in search of absolution in the Eye of Terror. Possibly still alive, but it may have been an elaborate form of self-sacrifice
Alpharius Omegon | Dead (?) | Unknown. | Despite reports of Alpharius' death at the hands of Roboute Guilliman, it is very difficult to say anything for certain about the Sons of the Hydra, who have been operation a millennia-long misdirection plot against the Imperium and their own allies. Alpharius Omegon may still be at large.
[/table]

[bluntpencil]

"Interesting. Interesting indeed."

Inquisitor Atticus paces the room, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

"You, effectively, wish to sacrifice one of the Emperor's sons to him, in order to give him new life."

He screws his face up a little, however, continuing on in his disturbingly gentle voice.

"That is, of course, assuming you speak the truth. My position requires some degree of suspicion, paranoia even."

He folds the paper after carefully re-reading it several times, the information provided being somewhat familiar to him already. He then turns away from the others and uses the pilot light on his hand-flamer to ignite the sheet of paper, to destroy any evidence of it.

Inquisitor Atticus, after sheathing his flame pistol, then clasps his hands behind his back as he continues pacing and speaking.

"My general suspicions, of course, tend towards the possibility that you are not a Custodian at all..."

He obviously unclasps his hands, moving his right to a vox button at his neck, quite blatantly there to call upon his bodyguards should he require it.

"I doubt that is the case, but, still, you could very easily be an agent of the enemy attempting to have us damn one of the Emperor's sons, or allow a cursed Daemon Prince access to His Throne room.

The fact that the Emperor himself apparently contacted us... mere mortals... as opposed to, say, Marneus Calgar himself, only adds to my scepticism here. Surely he could send a vision to Chapter Master Calgar, or Azrael, or even to Lion'El Jonson himself..."

Neither Atticus' voice nor his face betray any sign of paranoia or fear, but his words seem to indicate otherwise. He speaks slowly and meticulously, as if every eventuality must be prepared for.

[Morganatic]

Houstoun paces up and down through the office, picking power-armoured feet carefully between stacks of reports. He follows a route that he seems to have picked out many, many times before, while thinking.

'Would the Emperor choose someone so deeply involved in the politics of their own chapter to render their progenitor up? If you were Azrael, say, and you had a vision from someone claiming to be the Emperor that he wanted you to give up a being who's essentially your god, would your judgement and vision be trustworthy? It's interesting that you mention both Calgar and the head of the Dark Angel Inner Circle; they're not exactly the most trustworthy of Imperial servants, in my estimation.

Far better to look for neutral observers, people who possess knowledge and interests aligned with He-Who-Sits-The-Throne's project, but who do not possess the individual power, alone, to be corrupted or led astray so easily. Experts in esoteric alien technology from the War in Heaven, Thorians, soul-bound psykers, leaders of humanity, and killers, who, between them, might be able to play the role of quasi-neutral incorruptible arbitrators and questants. Oh! People like you.

With that last word, he wheels, and points at the assembled Throne Agents.

'But you're quite right. I've verified that you all are probably all who you say you are, and that one of your probably isn't Omegon, but you haven't seen any papers from me, save for the fact that I'm in this office, wielding a Custodian gladius, and clad in Custodian artificer armour. Chaos is the father of lies, after all, and I believe that I won't be able to assure you with a 100% reliability that I am who I say I am. So, what sort of identification would you want? I believe that I can provide anything up to my full name as a Custodes, although, of course, that would then have to be wiped from your mind, to prevent you or anyone you might blurt it to from having power over me. Thoughts?'

Scholastic lore (legend) at -30 to remember things about Custodes and their weird thing about names.

[Emperor Ing]

Do not mistake the Abomidable Intelligence of the Men of Iron for machine spirits. Their existence represents the rebellion of Circuit and Cilicon without the guiding light of the Machine God. Magos Arkinger's thoughts turn over to the Primarchs.

An optical mechadendrite scans over the list of the primarchs. With a single thought, he downloads the image of the writing on the paper. Separating the impurities of the image. Wrinkles, typos, color variations due to light, and extracting and backing up the list into the cogitor-memory banks throughout his body. All this happens in an instant as the list zips through his mind as if he has read it. To keep with the confidentiality trust that has been placed on him, the Magos readies a subroutine to delete all evidence of this information from his memory.

Almost to distract from the current situation at hand, three things stick out to the Magos.
You have recovered records that The Emperor ordered stricken from the memory of Mankind. Records of the 2nd and 11th Primarch. I would ask how even a Custodian could access this information, but I also notice that the 3rd Primarch, the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim appears to be missing from this list.

Though I must know: What do you know that makes you assume that Magnus would possibly cooperate?

[bluntpencil]

Lucien Atticus nods slowly as the Magos questions the Custodian. He smiles a little when Houstoun asks what sort of proof he can offer. He knows just what sort of proof is needed.

A faint halo of light appears to form behind the Inquisitor's head, although Arkinger's optical arrays does not pick up any real change in the room's luminescence. He clutches his Icon of the Just loosely, somewhat absent-mindedly, as he starts to speak.

His gentle voice begins to rise slightly, as if it were a chorus spoken by multiple individuals (again, any recordings taken by Arkinger show him to have spoken normally), with more voices joining in as he continues. The light in the room shifts, the corners becoming darker, the light appearing to focus on the Inquisitor and the Custodian.

"I would not dare to accuse you of lying to us, Brother-Custodian, but in the name of His Most Imperial Majesty of Mankind, you will speak the truth unto us."

[Morganatic]

'And yet, Arkinger, the Gorgon could pacify the storms of errant machinery with but a touch; Vulkan too, in his own way. The Men of Iron, together with the Man of Iron who could have redeemed them, are lost, but I'd hazard that the Omnissiah had a plan to scourge the impurities of their souls just as effectively as his more human half sought to do with flesh and blood.'


Upon hearing about Fulgrim, Houstoun frowns, walks over to the data slate, adds a few lines, then looks up, verifying that the message has changed.

'Fulgrim - ah, that would be just a typing error, probably introduced by some idiot intern who worked out the table encoding for me. It's fixed now. As to Magnus, his actions towards the Sons of Russ during the Burning of Prospero, and indeed the catastrophe that necessitated the early activation of the Golden Throne, suggest that he thought he was doing the Emperor's work to the last. Or perhaps not. Perhaps what he saw as a betrayal by the Imperium has twisted him beyond recognition, made him a bitter foe of the Imperium and all it stands for. Nonetheless, the continued factionalism and splits within his Legion reveal that all is not well among the Thousand Sons. Something to exploit? Results unclear; please check again later.

Oh, and the Second and Eleventh legions? Their files were sealed and stricken from the record, yes, but, we're the Custodians. It is our job to maintain custody of such resources, files, and information, and, in the event that it might be useful, my superiors at Majestic are rather good an unsealing things, and unstriking them from the record, if only for a time. Malcador really did have a contingency for everything.

My name, Inquisitor Lucien Atticus, is Brother-Custodian Esdras Houstoun, and I affirm this to be the truth upon the Emperor's Golden Throne. Is that sufficient? You asked so nicely.'

The last few words seem to take rather a bit more effort than the others, and his breathing is a little laboured. Come to think of it, Lucien's looking just a little ashen, too.

Hellish (-60) psyniscience if anyone wants in on the cool Act-of-Faith-on-Custodian action.

[bluntpencil]

After demanding truth from the Custodian, the Inquisitor's face seems slightly drawn and tired, although the strength and resolve remains in his eyes. For some reason his hair looks to have greyed a little around his temples, and he seems slightly more wrinkled. Wasn't his hair like that before? Hard to tell.

Atticus still stands up straight, but he looks somewhat worn somehow, as he stares down the Emperor's emissary.

"That will do for now, creature of the Emperor."

His choice of words seems somewhat odd, and his eyes still betray a mistrust of Houstoun. Something isn't quite right.

[Emperor Ing]

I do not deny the blessings of iron bestowed upon the late Lord Manus or the mastery of Artifice bestowed upon Lord Vulkan. But I am detecting hidden data regarding the Omnissiah in your words.
The Magos ran the list through his mind again, striking out those listed as dead.
The Lion would be very troublesome to recover.
The Heldenhammer would be an interesting prospect if he can be found at all. This is also true for Rubinek: An entire exerpt of history stricken from the archives of the Great Crusade. Surely an interesting conduit of information as well as a possible prospect. But the dossier regarding his location is 10,000 years old. Magos Arkinger could be speaking to any one of the two for all he knows.
Fulgrim and Pertaburo deliberately acted in rebellion against The Emperor. Unless it is in a cage, bringing them to The Emperor would be challenging.
Jaghatai would possibly prove to be a good prospect, though difficult to locate.
Leman Russ and Vulkan are non-options unless the "end of times" is within days.
Angron is a non-option for more reasons than just his current status of non-existance.
Guilliman is the easiest to locate and the safest to acquire. His guardians will likely prove cooperative considering the circumstances. Further inquiry required.
Though I must make an inquiry. Considering your favor with Chapter Master Calgar, there is probable wisdom to enlightening him as to our plans in hopes to secure further cooperation regarding his Primarch.
Magnus should not be discounted, but he will have to be contacted indirectly considering his current residence. Such an undertaking would be supremely risky.
Lorgar would be difficult to secure.
Corax would likely prove the most cooperative, albeit one of the more difficult Primarchs to locate.
Alpharius Omegon? The Custodian referred to the Omegon as if he were a separate being. Are they two different individuals? Regardless, their non-daemonhood could prove securing them simpler than Fulgrim or Pertaburo, however locating either of them would be more difficult, even if they both survived.
Furthermore, cooperation with the more cooperative primarchs may require their enlightenment to our plans as well. I require your data input before a conclusion can be reached.

[Hawkwings]

Cassandra had been watching the proceedings, and followed along with the Primarch project discussion well enough. But the others seemed just a bit too willing to accept this plan, one which was outlandish in the extreme, if even theoretically possible. That was one sticking point. The other, the matter of this person's identity, was thankfully easier to resolve.

"Inquisitor Atticus may be satisfied, but I am not. If you would permit, Brother Custodian, then I would peer into your soul to discover if you are what you say you are."

This would be a use of the psychic power Soul Sight

[DrK]

V556

The Vindicare looks dispassionately at the discussion between the Inquisitors, Magi and the Custodes. To him it was simple. There was no room for ethics, no room for moral choice, no room for questions. The Custode had possessed the correct codes and ciphers, that was all that was needed to command the Officio Assassinorium. The Temple did not have the luxury of asking for proof or the right of instructions...

He glanced down the list staring at the names and commiting them to memory. The hunter's instinct within him was excited, never had there been a bigger or more dangerous prey. He glanced at the Moritat beside him and wondered if she felt a similar obsession

[Starbin]

Kylissa
What started as a briefing quickly turned into a heated debate that seemed to reach a culimination as accusations were flung forth at the Custodian. The fact that there was still doubt concerning this man's identity was odd. The idea that a person who stood guard over the Emperor, had access to the Golden Throne, would work to such elaborate lengths seemed at odds with the first rule of planning - keep it simple, slag.

Looking around at the others, she wondered about her own evaluation of this situation. Had she been too gullible? Had she believed because she wanted to? Was this a simple temptation, preying on long supressed dreams of glory?

No. She had long ago given up such faerie tales and wishful thinking. The dream, nay the vision, had been too strong, too ... right. Too late to think she had been duped ... best to press forward and keep the Emperor in her heart.

Looking down at the list, she wondered at the probability of success in such an endeavor. Slaying a Primarch would be an easier task, and that would be herculean in itself. Capturing one of the Emperor's sons and dragging him back to face possession? If the Primarch didn't think it the correct path, there might be no other option than to slay him.

Fortunately, that was something she could do.

[Daisuke1133]

Everything about the situation he found himself in and the man in front of him was making drake uneasy. Normally standard operating procedure in the Guard is to shoot the source of unease. However he knew that taking such action at this juncture would be ill-advised at best.

For now all he could do is trust the vision sent by Him on Terra and those fellow chosen at his side. And worse come to worst, he was ready to drain a charge pack shooting lasbolts into this custodian's face.

[Morganatic]

'I certainly shall inform the Ultramarine Chapter Master, although I believe that he may be on campaign in the Tau Fourth Sphere worlds, on the other side of the galaxy. I'm a little hesitant to contact his regent on such matters; that might be construed as going behind his back when such an important matter is concerned. As to the more cooperative Primarchs, what sort of advice would you seek? Little is known about their current dispositions, but they were - are - His children, and owe everything to Him. Provided they have not fallen to the worship of the Ruinous powers over the past millennia - which is unlikely, as I believe that they would have rubbed our collective nose in the fact. For all else they may be, they are but men, and eminently can be won over by cunning or impassioned arguments, more's the pity.'

His eyes flick over at the other Inquisitor as she prepares to test him in her own way, but there's no anger or frustration in them, just an unreadable glance.

'What about you two, assassins? Even if we're not looking for, say, Lorgar's head on a platter - although, if you could bring that to us in addition to completing your mission, that would be helpful - you certainly have your own unique perspectives on the issue of a manhunt like this. Members of the Assassinorum have brought down Primarchs before, Agent V-556.

And Ms Kylissa - I cannot help but noticing your rather ... distinctive equipment, and believe that you didn't just strip them off the corpse of some dead Eldar. I'm not a gambling man, but if I were, I might wager that they'd know something as to the disposition of the Primarchs, especially those in the webway - if you can get in contact with them, of course, but for someone of your talents, how much of a problem is that?'

Cassandra
Cassandra's psychic sense reveal several interesting things about Brother Houstoun.


He is not a psyker, but he does have a fairly strong psychic presence.
He is a physically healthy (25 wounds) post-human, though he doesn't seem to have the distinctive stamp of an Astartes - perhaps a little closer to V-556, if anything. He's a little bit staggered, however, presumably by the encounter with Atticus earlier (1 level of fatigue).
Psychologically, he's a wreck - or he should be (Insanity Points 57). His psyche seems shattered, but then painstakingly reassembled, with the edges smoothed over by tiny streams and rivulets of liquid gold. This doesn't appear to have resulted in any sort of disorders, though, nor in any marks of the Ruinous Powers, which seem entirely absent.


Overall, under your soul-sight, Esdras looks much as he does normally, just a a lot brighter, clad in the glow of firelight. There's something brittle and hard-edged to him, but if he does seem a little untrustworthy, it's not in an ostensibly Chaos-influenced way.

Magos Arkinger
Custodes rack up names like storm-troopers rack up combat honours, each one reflecting a facet of their devotion, or a service to the Emperor. These aren't just names, though - they've got a definite warp presence, and a tangible power.

[Emperor Ing]

What are the odds Calgar could smuggle back an intact Battlesuit?
I believe it would be wise to contact him. I do not expect him to assist at the cost of his campaign, but I would prefer some form of communication to be established between us when it is convenient.

I do not doubt that convincing the more loyal Primarchs will be simpler than convincing Lorgar or Fulgrim. But I do believe you are trusting my judgement enough to determine who is worth letting in on our plot. Certainly Guilliman or Corax are worthy enough to know their destinies. But I digress: these were never in doubt.

The 14th Black Crusade. The loss of a critical strategic world leaves the Imperium in a state of vulnerability almost never before seen. While the losses Chaos suffered must be large, the recapturing of a Blackstone Fortress, the annihilation of Planet Killer, and the destruction of a Daemon Primarch will do much to slow them down, Omnissiah willing, how long, in your opinion, does the Imperium have until the Warmaster launches his 15th Black Crusade?

[DrK]

V556

The assassin stares at the custode blankly, surprised to be addressed. He nodded in ascent though, he knew well that his kin had killed one before. It wasn't common knowledge the how an assassin was trained.

It may be easier to head into the Eye. It has the highest target density.

.

[bluntpencil]

Atticus raises his palms, indicating that Arkinger should slow down somewhat.

"Please, let us not get ahead of ourselves, esteemed Magos."

He continues slowly and deliberately, once he has the Tech Priest's attention.

"We are assuming that we are in possession of all the facts regarding the psyche of the Primarchs."

He draws in a deep breath, then exhales in a resigned fashion.

"For one, we cannot place our full trust into any of the Primarchs, save one."

He explains his reasoning carefully.

"Roboute Guilliman, as some of you may know, arrived after the Emperor defeated Horus and crushed the Heresy. Can we be so sure that he simply did not pick the winning side?"

He seems to be detailing the potentially living Primarchs, detailing their imperfections,


"Lion'el Jonson, well... he is far too secretive to be trusted at all. Both Jaghatai Khan and Leman Russ, although loyal unto death, are known in legend for being brash and headstrong, which could likely lead us to catastrophe. Corax also had his quirks, as did Vulkan."

He stops, as if preparing his thoughts, and clears his throat.

"The others are either compromised or deceased... with perhaps one exception..."

With this, a blade extends from his forearm, a power field being generated from this forearm blade with a bright flash, which then subsides as it is deactivated, although the blade remains extended. The Inquisitor then cuts a shallow wound in the palm of his right hand, and holds it out in front of him, dripping several drops of blood onto the floor before himself.

"...the blood and spirit of Sanguinius of the Blood Angels."

He closes his bleeding hand into a fist and continues.

"The traditions of the Blood Angels, and their successors, involves infusing their Sanguinary Priests with the living blood and soul of Sanguinius himself.

Add to that the rumours, myths and legends of actual angelic figures appearing to aid them in times of crisis, we may have another avenue of investigation, and hopefully a fruitful one, as Sanguinius was the most righteous and noble of all the Primarchs."

In truth, it was something of a mere passing thought of the Inquisitor's, but, considering how things were playing out, a vast multitude of alternatives had to be looked at before committing to anything. In his mind, Lucien Atticus had already come to the conclusion that it would need to be thePrimarch of the Dark Angels, Jonson, that needed to be contacted, if indirectly...

[Starbin]

Kylissa

At her name, Kylissa simply stared at the Custodian for a moment. She didn't need to glance down at the Eldar gem upon her waist, nor at the weapon's case nearby that contained a mighty prize from a battle long ago. The man was observant and well-informed, to say the least; no need to insult such effort with mock surpise or false denials. Inclining her head slightly, she let the Vindicare respond before adding her own perspective.

"Making contact with a Troupe is easy. Breaking contact alive is not. Their council on such matters may deny Chaos and benefit the Eldar, but destroy humanity."

Leaning back, she thought on the last time she saw the Eldar, and wondered how many would die should she see them again.

[Emperor Ing]

Add to that the rumours, myths and legends of actual angelic figures appearing to aid them in times of crisis, we may have another avenue of investigation, and hopefully a fruitful one, as Sanguinius was the most righteous and noble of all the Primarchs.

I do not need to remind you: *click* Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to use the 'mortal' shell of a Primarch as the spiritual anchor for the return of the Emperor.
Unless you have data suggesting the possibility for the resurrection of Sanguinius I will have to rule out the possibility for his hosting the Emperor.

What you suggest is not invalid. Data on the personalities of the Primarchs would be helpful, though it would be an inquiry for a later however imminent point in time.

[bluntpencil]

"You are not incorrect, my learned comrade," agrees Atticus with Arkinger, "but my point was that, for the purposes which we need, Sanguinius may in fact be considered alive, but, like a pane of glass, shattered into thousands of tiny pieces."

He raises a finger,

"I am but brainstorming, of course, but my idea is that we may be able to host thousands of aspects of the Emperor in smaller vessels, such as the heirs of Sanguinius..."

He freezes at this point, looking Kylissa up and down, his eyes focusing on her Xenos trophies.

"Aspects of the Emperor..."

He remains frozen still, his pacing stopped, and looks to his fellow Inquisitor, Cassandra, as well as his trusted advisor and friend, Marachena, asking them the following,

"Perhaps treating Primarchs as Daemonhosts would be incorrect. The eldritch Xenos of the Webways, the so-called Eldar, seem able to temporarily house their pathetic Gods in shells of iron. I have heard the term 'Avatar' being used by some of my educated colleagues... could we do the same, and allow the Emperor temporary abode in the bodies of lesser mortals?

Surely they would be destroyed by the end of the process, but this might offer less risk... providing, of course, we can gain access to the Black Library..."

[DrK]

V556

The assassin looks to the inquisitor and magos before asking his question in his low gravelly voice, vindicare assassins not being known for conversation.
Why discuss the unlikely when we can travel straight to one of several known targets. To the assassin the solution seems simple. Assuming your ship will agree to carry us? The question tinged with sceptiscm for the navy born of dozens of missions and a handful of ships that were mysteriously lost with all hands after a visit from the assassin.




I know influence can buy a ride on a cruiser but how long will the cruiser be on the team?

[bluntpencil]

"Said targets may be non-compliant, brother. In addition to this, their imperfections or flaws may have unforeseen consequences. I would not wish to take any undue risks with such an operation.

I do not wish for us to rush in blindly at this point, especially when we have possible alternatives. Our Imperial Majesty has been sat upon his Throne for ten millenia... I would assume that being as cautious as possible seems best... another year or two should be nothing to our Lord Terra."

After patiently explaining the situation, Inquisitor Atticus straightens up and informs the Vindicare about the ships under his command.

"Both the Sirius and Gethsemane are sworn to my service for life. They go where I go, should it be necessary. I served on both of these vessels before my ascension to my current position of privilege. They're fine craft, but may not be suited to certain tasks.

Should we require a different class of ship, I will be able to pull strings with the Battlefleet Koronus, but this will, of course, take time."

[Morganatic]

'We can hold the Cadian system, at least for a time. The forces of the Warmaster are puissant indeed, but their strength is in land warfare - while we can keep pouring more soldiers, Astartes, and ships into the region, we can certainly keep them at bay, if at an ultimately unsustainable expense. I would give us three years, if nothing changes - it's almost inevitable that the 14th Crusade has fight in it yet.

As to Sanguinius - that … that is a conclusion I had not considered, Inquisitor Atticus. The blood of a Primach - still living, as you say - might certainly have a powerful effect. I would worry that, as your Magos says, it would not suffice to give the Emperor a new body, but it might certainly help to expedite the process, provided you can secure a sufficient sample.

The Avatar idea is interesting - a Machine-God, perhaps? Or merely the Thorian notion of finding another Sebastian Thor - but as Kylissa alludes, the Eldar of the Black Library are historically averse to giving up their secrets. That's not to say you couldn't force your way in - I am acquainted with a certain Inquisitor who's been there once - but that would be another difficult task. Possible, though.'

He balances his hands, weighing them, as if with a scales.

'In all, I would suggest that this represents a trade-off between two approaches. On the one hand, you could be crusaders, taking the Emperor's sword to valiantly cut down all challengers between you and the Primarch of your choice. The Emperor desire a crusade, does He not? I believe that you could certainly strike the first blow, between your skill, cunning and martial expertise. Alternatively, you could be tricksters, seeking to bring the Emperor's light to the esoteric of this galaxy, and tearing asunder the works of Man, Daemon, and Alien to reach your prize - which would certainly be following in His footsteps in another way.

The former is more certain, but a direr task; the latter is uncertain, but may yield unexpectedly proximate results. Which do you feel more suits you all, and your capabilities?'


I think that, via your Commodore, you already own a cruiser, to be honest. Plus, using your Influence score of rather high, you can probably secure one for as long as you like. You've also got an elite military unit of Sororitas, advised by a rather proficient Stormtrooper, to put on board it.

[DrK]

V556

The assassin looks non-plussed by the Sharp reply. All the primarchs were flawed. None will do this willingly. All man is flawed, there are no pure in the Empire of Man. Better to use a broken reed than waste a good one.

He looks around the room for opinions before returning his gaze to his fellow assassin seeking her opinion. Most others in the room matter less, the Temple is all.

[Emperor Ing]

The God-Machines of the Legio Ignatum have stood forever vigilant at the Eternity Gate for millenia. If The Emperor could inhabit the body of one of the avatars of the Machine God, he would have done so. The Magos remarks bluntly. Though the Inquisitor indeed brings up a point about Sanguinius. Prehaps cloning the body of the Primarch could be possible? Certainly the clones of Macharius have been total failures, but the Lord Solar is not a Primarch. This presents new opportunities along with new challenges.

He pauses, running data through his head.

I prefer to follow definite leads. Guilliman is the easiest to locate, and the technology to bypass a stasis field to implant a bionic neck may be within reach. I will search for 'The Heidenhammer' on my own time.

[bluntpencil]

"Personally, I would suggest we follow the Lionel'El Jonson lead first, although not directly via the Dark Angels.

I would suggest contacting Fallen Angels, who have been scattered across time and space, meaning that we can get in touch with potential loyalists from the time of the Heresy itself. The Emperor's grace will prevent any subterfuge and lies on their part.

One so-called Fallen Angel is of particular interest, and has so far continued to evade my own investigations as well as those of the Dark Angels themselves, is one known as 'Cypher'. He appears to have motivations involving the redemption of his chapter...

...of course, this would not be seen as a positive development from the Dark Angels and the Unforgiven, but, personally, I couldn't care less. They aren't known for playing well with the Emperor's other children anyway. Their long-time rivals, the Space Wolves, will be more inclined to offer honest help."

Atticus is obviously displeased about having to involve the Astartes at all, really. He would probably rather just hit the books and try to come up with an alternative, which is the impression that his serene, gentle voice gives.

Ahem. I have two cruisers permanently under Atticus' command, not just one! :P

[Starbin]

Kylissa

Listening to the discussions, Kylissa wondered about her own role in the plot ... for wasn't that what this had become? These seven people, sharers of a common dream, were trying to figure out out how to bend not just the Adeptus Astartes in useable tools, but which Primarch they wished to target as a vessel for the return of the Emperor ... with or with their permission.

It wasn't the enormity of what they suggested that surprised her. Nor was it the targets they considered. It was the idea of pitting themselves against one of the universe's deadliest killers on little more than a hunch, and feeling completely sanctioned.

Oh, the Chapter who's Primarch they targeted might not see it as sanctioned ... hell, this might be the reason they need to take by force what they had sworn to defend. If handled poorly, this gambit could send humanity back into a civil war - this time over variances in a common ideology.

She noticed the Vindicare looking at her and she shrugged slightly, uncertain of how this would turn out. All she knew was that she would be there, where the fighting was the thickest, her blade the altar and her adversaries blood the offering ... all in the name of the Emperor.

Clearing her throat slightly, she spoke softly, her words not directed at anyone in particular. "My blade will be where the Emperor needs it most; shadows or light, we won't balk at hard tasks - only ill-conceived plans."

"You seek Primarchs, but rumor has it the Emperor is a Primarch of sorts. What of the Grey Knights? Are any of them sufficient to His needs?"

[Morganatic]

'My suspicion is that we're beyond the level of needing particularly well-conceived plans. Action without thought may reduce the likelihood of success, possibly beyond acceptable parameters, but even if you can bring back the shattered, barely-living wreck of one of the Twenty, nothing else matters. Nothing else would matter, could matter - for we would have Him back. The Grey Knights are one of a number of back-up plans, should the Primarch acquisition fail - there are several candidates of sufficient physical and psychic fortitude, but they are, in the end, only human. Only posthuman.

As to Guilliman, he certainly is a possibility - it would simply be a matter of turning off the stasis field, as you say, to gain access to him. The issue would come when you needed to keep him alive, since he's an instant from brain-death from Fulgrim's poison. I suspect that this is your domain, rather than mine - is there any effective means of interacting with objects inside a stasis field, without shutting it off.

I'm warming to the idea of the Dark Angels, I must say. The Sons of Russ might take a little persuading to quit the defence of the Eye and resume their old role as executioners and retrievers, but it's certainly possible. A full-scale assault might be inadvisable, though, since it would risk destroying the prize - Caliban is hardly stable. If you can find some way of gaining access to the Rock - hardly an easy feat - then I'd say you have a chance, especially if the Wolves are waiting in reserve, waiting on your word to move into position. And The Cypher remains a rather puissant ace up your sleeve, if you are right about him, and he should choose to smile on your venture.

Should you wish to enlist their help, I believe I could secure an audience with Lord Grimnar - as well as any other groups you might be wish to meet regarding this matter. As long as the information remains on a relatively need-to-know basis, that is.'

Sorry this has all been very talky so far! It's giving me a lot of opportunities to work out some delirious ultraviolencenasty scenes later for y'all, though - I'm just trying to get a handle on what sort of horrifying slaughter and slaughter-filled horror you're particularly interested in.

[Emperor Ing]

A concern with using the Grey Knights is that they are to The Emperor what the Blood Angels are to Sanguinius. If my knowledge is accurate, the process in the creation of a Custodian is similar to that of a Primarch.

I do not think the Scions of Fenris would move against the Angels of the Lion without severe skepticism. I am inclined against active hostilities of an entire Adeptus Astartes chapter. The Wolf may be more easily recovered if leads can be divined from the Chapter Master. It is questionable whether Arkinger doesn't know whether the term is Great Wolf, or whether or not he simply refused to use it.

Cypher is certainly an interesting lead, but he is continually hunted down by multiple chapters of Adeptus Astartes, and has been for thousands of years. Our efforts respecting him would be in vain, unless he can be attracted to us.
All of this is being said while data from the Magos' considerable memory stores respecting the function of stasis fields of all patterns and models flow through his mind.
Even if I were able to revive Guilliman from stasis successfully, I have no doubt the Warp will make our endeavors simple.

[DrK]

V566
The lion you say? It may not be my first encounter with the so called Angels of Death, infiltrating their chapter fortress will tax even Kaylissa and myself.

While the words show doubt they do exude quiet confidence.
It would still be prudent to use a heretic for this. Better to Target a known enemy than an ally. Particularly while we are so close.

The last words punctuated by the Vista of the eye outside the view port. If we challenge the first legion it will be gruelling and bloody with many loyal astartes dying without true cause. A sorry fate for any of the astartes

[rb780nm]

Marachena leans over to Atticus' side and whispers into his ear.


In the Throne-agent tongue of of Atticus' cadre
"Lord, when you invoked your prayer to scour away the shadows of deceit with the Emperor's white-hot scrutiny. For an instant, the room seemed much better lit than it was, and where the Inquisitor and the Custodian were standing a pair of blazing pillars of light illuminated the room. The vision passed, but both figures seem a little winded, and less imposing, now."

[Starbin]

Kylissa

Kylissa nodded slightly at the Vindicare's assessment. "Targeting minions of Chaos holds us as true blades of the Emperor ... attacking loyalists will damage that image. I care not what others think, but such perceptions will make our work ... complicated."

However, journeying into the Eye shouldn't be done on a whim. We will be in their world, fighting on their terms. Not impossible, but by no means quick ... or guaranteed.

As for the Lion, you just need the right carrot. Hunting Cypher may work for three reasons - if his body is sufficient, he can be the vessel; if not, he makes for an excellent bargaining chit; and either way, you have the infamous Cypher for interrogation.

Regardless, if word reaches the Lion that three Inquisitor's of your stature are hunting Cypher, or that you have a good lead on his whereabouts ... you may discover the Lion will come to you."

Kylissa never changed her posture or demeanor, leaning rock steady agains the walls with her arms crossed over her chest. If it were not for her lips moving in time to the words, one would wonder if she had indeed spoken. However, if you could see her eyes, you would note them glance over at the Sister-Sage.

[bluntpencil]

Atticus nods as the power-armoured woman whispers in his ear, smiling slightly to quietly thank her.

He quietly mutters to her, using the code-speak, 'Koronus Passage Cipher', that the pair had diligently developed over the past few years.

"Good eye, Sister. I noticed the Custodian, but not the other, although I cannot say I am unsurprised."

The code-speak itself makes them sound like they are discussing starships, provided anyone is able to listen in.

He then speaks to the others, more clearly, of course.

"I am strongly in favour of finding Cypher first. I believe that although this will be exceptionally difficult, it will be less dangerous, and easier to manage than the alternatives. It will not accomplish our final goal, but will allow us to gather additional information, or could provide us with additional resources.

The fact that I've been searching for him previously may, of course, leave me somewhat biased, but it also means that we have a starting point, too. The fact that I was already looking for him may be a reason why I was contacted, but that is, of course, pure supposition.

I believe that avoiding the Dark Angels entirely, and picking up Cypher, preferably not on hostile terms, appears to be a positive way to get started.

I will also have words with various sources, starting with the Ecclesiarchy but, more importantly, with Inquisitorial experts on the Return of Our Liege-Lord, regarding prophecies and theories surrounding his leaving his Golden Throne. There is a vast wealth of knowledge which must be tapped before we spring into action."

[Hawkwings]

"I am uneasy at the prospect of coming into conflict with some of the most esteemed of the Astartes chapters," Cassandra said. "While loyal, they are prideful and answer to none but themselves, and may misunderstand our project as a threat, especially chapters known for keeping secrets."

"But what about another option? What if we simply create a host from scratch, as opposed to finding one? I will admit I am not as knowledgeable about the original Primarch project as others, so perhaps this line of investigation is misguided, but is there any information on how the primarchs were originally created? If so, could we replicate such a feat? It would be far more controllable and less risky than traipsing about the galaxy looking for that which has been lost for millenia."

She paused for a moment, as if considering something of great importance. Then she said, carefully picking her words, "Though if we wanted to find a loyal primarch suitable for the task, it would appear that we would have to head into the Eye. That is, of course, if we could even track down any clues of their whereabouts."

[bluntpencil]

"My assumption has always been that immense psychic power was used to create the Primarchs, likely in conjunction with technical expertise far beyond us.

The technology we could reclaim, of course. However, if it were mere technological and biological expertise alone, and, please Magos Arkinger, do not take this as an insult, we would be able to make thousands of Primarchs.

My assumption, therefore, is that it required something of the Emperor himself, relating to his prodigious psychic powers. He was only able to create twenty, and could not perform it again after initially having his children swept away from him."

For some reason, Atticus is obviously troubled by the assumptions he is making here. Of course, his problems with the Primarch Project remain unspoken. His unspoken worries largely circle around the fact that the Emperor may have done something excessively Radical in order to create his sons.

He sighs, then continues to answer his fellow Inquisitor.

"As you well know, there are many problems with navigating the Eye. There is no true where. There is no true when. Logic is thrown out of reality and warped into something unrecognisable to all reasonable beings.

Finding a Primarch in the Eye of Terror would be like finding a needle in a haystack, with the added complications of having your eyes burned out and your hands cut off."

[Hawkwings]

Cassandra nods, agreeing. "It is not my preferred plan, that much is certain. But it is possible, as the Space Wolves have shown. Their forays into the Eye to search for their primarch and retrieve relics are not wholly unsuccessful. And of course, their Thirteenth Company emerged relatively unscathed during the last Black Crusade. Even short raids and pursuits by the Imperial Navy through the Cadian Gate have been done, and they are protected by nothing other than faith and Gellar fields. If not the Eye or coming into conflict with loyal space marines though, then what?"

[Starbin]

Kylissa

As the others continued to speak, Kylissa quickly realized the Inquisitors had returned to form, talking amongst themselves while the others simply sat by and waited. There was something about Atticus she did not care for. Perhaps it was his look; perhaps his outlook. Maybe it was the way he sounded ... unconvince ... about the nature of their 'summons.' Most likely, it was her disdain for most people of a certain station, a feeling that took her back to her childhood on Dusk. No, not childhood, since she didn't have one of those. Nay, better to call it her forging ...

Back to the room, the arguements were revolving around who to target ... for all the attempts to simplify their focus, additional ideas and issues kept rising to the surface. If the choice was between Cypher and the Eye, you might as well ask would you rather hunt smoke or beard a daemon in it's own demense?

Glancing around the room, she studied the others, eyes lighting on the Soldier for a moment, since he had been silent since the discussions had started.

[bluntpencil]

"The idea of hunting Cypher, and very quietly making non-hostile contact might serve to save us from denouncing any so-called loyalists. Asking a few pointed questions of himself, and of Grand Master Azrael, might save us a lot of effort and risk; risks which I am not keen to take, with billions of lives likely depending on us."

With that, he turns to his confidante, Marachena, and specifically asks for her input.

"Sister, you have been somewhat quiet; I do believe that you would have valuable input here. This all seems too close to the ideals of Moriana, and the later Horusians for myself, I must admit."

[Daisuke1133]

"What manner of resistance would we run up against if we were to pursue this 'Cypher'? Would we face one or many?" Drake asks, his own mind piqued at the thought of only facing a single Astartes rather than a large group of them, or worse a Daemon-Primarch surrounded by Chaos Space Marines in the middle of the Eye of Terror.

"If he is but a single Astartes, then subduing and capturing him for use in our ends seems simple enough in theory, if not in practice. Though I would daresay that our chances of success in this endevour are far greater than they would be in doing the same to one of the traitor Primarchs or coming into conflict with any of the Loyalist Chapters."

[bluntpencil]

"Good points, soldier.

As far as I'm aware, Cypher has been captured before. Something, likely relating to the Warp... or maybe the Emperor, always ensures his escape from his parent Chapter, the Dark Angels, or whosoever else might capture him.

Interestingly, should the Dark Angels hear of even rumours of him, they often end up in hot pursuit, attempting to retake him with extreme violence, in order to protect their secrets. For that reason we will have to be very careful, and very subtle.

Failing that, and they find out, I may have some contingencies available. The threat of Excommunicate Traitoris may be enough to stall them, especially if we have the backing of other groups... which we shall.

I am of the suspicion that finding him won't prove terribly difficult... he seems to appear where the Imperium needs him to be, after all... even if this is never immediately apparent. His appearances may actually be able to be predicted, too..."

[Emperor Ing]

If you can get a solid lead on the location, or soon to be location of Cypher, I would encourage you to pursue it. Tread carefully though, he is one of the most wanted individuals in the Imperium. There is a probability of attempting to bargain with the Grand Master using Cypher as leverage will result in the bargaining being undergone at the barrel of a holy bolter that you would be well-advised to take note of. The Adeptus Astartes are fickle, and the Dark Angels even more so if their secrets are in danger. You should set up contigencies should the Dark Angels, or any other Adeptus Astartes chapter dismiss your claims as heretical machinations. The threat of Exocommunicate Traitoris is not to be taken lightly.

[DrK]

V566
You speak of this Cypher Inquisitor. Yet he is neither a Target of has acess to one. Mission focus and Target priority are the keys to a hunt. No matter the target.

We should choose a primarch and set off. One lies near death and in stasis. One hides in a fortress of the Dark Angels and they will not yield him easily and I think it will be beyond any single man's power to declare them traitor and the 1st legion are beloved of the imperium. They have allies of their own. One lies in the webway. The rest are lost in the Eye.


At mention of the Eye he will gesture out of the view port beyond the wreckage of Cadia. His voice firms slightly, throat dry and scratchy from having spoke so much. A rare occurrence for the normally solitary assassin.

We have targets we can see and what you see you can kill. He looks at the mechanicus and Atticus. We were summoned to retrieve a primarch. Not pursue a personal quest against some astartes that has remained lost and hidden for millenia. Personal goals do not find happy purchase in the imperium when greater goals are desired. The last is said with a grim countenance of one who has seen what befalls those who place their interest before that of the Lords of Terra.

[bluntpencil]

Atticus resists the urge to grin at the mention of Cypher being amongst the Imperium's Most Wanted. He responds in a flat tone.

"Finding wanted individuals is something the Inquisition is known for. And, rather fortunately, I've had a keen interest in this individual for some time."

With that, he hands a datapad to Arkinger, after deleting a large chunk of data from it, so that it contains only relevant information.

"This contains a map and timeline with reported sightings of Cypher, along with analyses of their reliability. Perhaps with the use of Adeptus Mechanicus cogitators, combined with, perhaps, use of the Emperor's Tarot, we could divine his next location."

Responding to the Assassin, he explains his position,

"We aren't here to kill anyone, if at all possible. Zero kills would be ideal, although this is highly unlikely. Untimely deaths attract attention.

We don't know what we are even doing. All of the valid targets in the Eye of Terror will be harder to pick up than a Primarch whom we have been told is alive and well on the Rock, apparently.

Cypher, however, appears to be strongly connected to the redemption of the Lion. By contacting him, we could contact the Lion...

...or...

The good Custodian could arrange for a semi-public meeting between myself and Grand Master Azrael of the Dark Angels. I will ask of him several questions, with several powerful, loyal individuals in sight, such as Logan Grimnar of the Space Wolves.

He will find it impossible to lie or withhold the truth from the loyal servants of the Emperor, and with that, we'll have access to the Lion. Either that or he'll condemn the Dark Angels as traitors.

This plan, I dislike. It could get violent, and there is the potential that the Chapter Master of the Dark Angels will be ignorant, and therefore dangerous."

After explaining for some time, he pauses, and raises an eyebrow at the Vindicare, showing no sign of offence, strangely enough for one of his station...

"My personal goal, much like the personal goals of many other Inquisitors whom I associate with, is finding methods of resurrecting the Emperor... and it has been my personal goal for my whole career. It is not arrogance speaking when I say that I have at least some knowledge of our goals and how to go about achieving them, and whether doing so is in fact safe for the Imperium and Its Lord."

[Hawkwings]

"I must agree with the Vindicare, I believe that hunting this Cypher will prove fruitless and ultimately, useless. First, I find it exceedingly unlikely that this individual even exists, or if he does, as a loyal Astartes and not some daemon plaything. Given that he supposedly has been around since the time of the Heresy leads me to believe the latter. Next, you wish to confront the Chapter Master of the Dark Angels? And entrap him into deceit or heresy? Or have him give up perhaps their chapter's largest secret, one which I myself was not aware of until ten minutes ago. I can tell you exactly what would happen if you were to proceed along that plan. First point of failure, you would be refused an audience. Second, you would fail to get all these people together. Third, the Grand Master would laugh in your face and tell you to not ask so many questions. If you're lucky, you might leave that room alive."

Cassandra took a moment to let that settle in. She was rather put off by this other inquisitor, who seemed to have great resources and experience, and was understandably proud of his accomplishments and abilities. But not even an inquisitor lord would dare try some of the things he was proposing.

"And finally, do you think that the threat of declaring the Dark Angels Grand Master is going to be taken seriously by anyone? Declaring a single Astartes battle-brother heretic is bold enough, and requires backup in the form of other space marines. But a Chapter Master? Of a First Founding chapter? Unless he has engaged in outright heresy in front of witnesses then it would be impossible. It is obvious that you have put a lot of thought and research into this, but I do not think it is the solution to the problem we have been faced with."

Dredging up an old bit of memory, Cassandra continues "I have heard a legend about the Salamanders Primarch, Vulkan, that may prove useful though. Vulkan hid powerful artifacts around the galaxy for his legion to find, saying that he would return when they proved their worthiness by finding them all. To date, they have found some, but others remain missing. Perhaps if we were to assist them in their endeavor, it may lead us to him, or at least clues to his wherabouts."

[Emperor Ing]

The Magos recieves the datapad, copying and downloading relevant information with nothing more than a thought.
You are mistaken Inquisitor Atticus, I am a cogitator. The inquisitor is also foolish to think the machine spirit so easily forgets knowledge, and this error cannot be easily recovered by an Adeptus Mechanicus Magos. A folly Arkinger plans to exploit at some point in the future as he reverses the Inquisitor's deletions and downloads the forbidden information. Knowledge is power.
Other possibilities cannot be ruled out. If there is a way to contact Magnus the Red we take advantage of it. Prehaps the same may be possible for Lorgar. Traversing the Webway may bring The Khan to us, and there is great value in restoring a Lost Primarch to the Imperium. So much lost lore could be divined from inquiry.
There is no doubt the forces of Chaos will do what they can to undermine such an endeavor. They would even decieve us with a daemon to impersonate someone such as Magnus or Lorgar. What can be done to ensure that if we were to bring a "primarch" into custody that he is truly one of The Emperor's sons?

[Starbin]

Kylissa

Listening to this discussion, Kylissa realized that she was far removed from many of these inter-Imperial politics. Oh, she had her fair share of impact on these exact kinds of discussions, but rarely did she care about the content leading up to a decision that required her level of expertise - just the details of the target and desired endstate.

That being said, it provided a certain amount of insight that was both intriguing and telling. Each passionate discourse, or contrarian comment, or terse acknowledgement spoke volumes about the speaker. And sometimes more about the listeners.

It made her wonder what the others had learned of her during her 'speech.'

[bluntpencil]

Atticus is strangely humble when he responds to Cassandra's disparaging comments,

"I find, through a certain determination, my lady, that both myself and my adviser, Sister Marachena, receive truthful answers should the Imperium truly require them. We rarely receive silence, and never receive untruth, for untruth is anathema to humanity and its Emperor...

... Regardless I believe you misheard me. I did not intend to suggest that I would condemn any supposedly loyal Astartes... I intended to suggest that I could make him condemn himself by his own admission, should he be guilty. Truth finds truth."

His voice is quiet at present, the light and the choir-like backing having disappeared now.

"We have our strengths, and I think we can play to them. Adeptus Astartes may be superhuman, but we have the Emperor on our side. A few simple questions, properly asked, and properly backed, and we can be on our way to a Second Great Crusade."

He goes on, explaining further,

"I am sure that you, yourself, have many contacts within the Imperium. One likely has cells of agents, or contacts throughout the Adepta. These are strengths which the Inquisition has. Those strengths are limited in the Webway, or in the Eye of Terror. They are not the home territories of the Inquisition."

The small Inquisitor, likely the smallest person in the room, nods towards Drake, attempting to encourage the Storm Trooper to take part,

"Likewise, I do not believe the Storm Trooper Regiment have many listening posts, supply depots or staging points within either...

The same, I would assume, would go for the Officio Assassinorum and the Adeptus Mechanicus, although I am not privy to many of their secrets."

He pauses a little,

"I, of course, am going to say that our strengths lie within the Imperium itself. Here, we have better lines of supply, better knowledge, better intelligence and better resources in general. Here, we are at our strongest. Therefore, I would say that we should focus our efforts on things we can achieve within the Imperium itself. We already have a living Primarch within the Imperium, according to our Custodian ally, here.

I am intrigued as to why investigating a Space Marine chapter is considered more dangerous than a voyage into the Eye or the Webway, to be honest. Investigation and subtlety should be our strong suits, should we play it that way... and even should we be more blatant, dealing with suspected rogue Astartes chapters has been done before by the Inquisition, and on a grander scale than the Dark Angels and the Unforgiven.

Might I remind you of the Badab War, and that the forces of Lufgt Huron were much grander than those of Grand Master Azrael's? Might I remind you that Chapter Master Huron was far more popular than Azrael amongst the Astartes as a whole?

Now, I am not suggesting another Badab War, the opposite in fact, but I am showing that they are not an insurmountable force.

In fact, I am of the position that, being loyal servants of the Emperor, simply asking to see the Lion should be enough. With enough Inquisitors asking, and believe me, the Thorians will be asking, with the support of the Adeptus Custodes themselves... well, they'll be more than pleased to share an audience with the Lion, surely?"

Interestingly, he hasn't mentioned Cypher again. It's not like he doesn't already have folk keeping an eye out already.

[DrK]

V556

Listening to the Inquisitors debate the assassin rapidly gains an insight into the confusion that surrounds many missions submitted to the Temple.
Very well master Inquisitor. Let us see you bring these truths to light. I am certain the Lady Kylissa and myself can remain unseen watchers and protectors if you should he choose silence or outrage over self condemnation.
.

Glancing at the custode he will ask Let us hope Azrael himself answers this call of custodes and Holy Ordos and dies.not honour us with a contingent company Captains.
In case this grand denouncement does not go to plan would you have access to any plans or information on the Dark Angels fortress?

[Emperor Ing]

Inquisitor Atticus, may I inquire as to what contigencies you have established should the Grand Master decide that the secrets of his chapter are worth more than your life?

[bluntpencil]

"Again, I do not plan on denouncement. I plan on making a simple request. My contingencies are as follows:

We rely on the fact that the Dark Angels are less popular than other non-Codex chapters. We rely on our strengths, our alliances and our reputations, to have more allies than they... making any such attack too dangerous to make.

Befriending, for instance, Logan Grimnar of the Space Wolves, could help. Gathering fellow Inquisitors, as well as Chapters known for punishing the unorthodox in the Badab War, such as, for instance the Carcharadons, or more importantly, the Red Scorpions, could also help.

Furthermore, if the meeting is not conducted in the shadows of the Rock itself, but in a semi-public forum, such as a council of war, with representatives from various Adepta, various Chapter Masters, various Inquisitors et cetera, Azrael may prove disinclined to draw steel, at least immediately. Should he wish to kill me later, I couldn't care less, to be honest... the Emperor Protects, after all, does he not?

Effectively, we arrange a meeting in a location where it would be a major faux-pas for him to attack us. I must admit, there is little love lost between myself and the Unforgiven Chapters, but I believe them to be the key here, unfortunately.

Regardless, getting the other Astartes on side shouldn't prove exceptionally difficult if we offer a little bit of knowledge, if not every detail. If the Space Marines believe that we can offer any sort of help recovering their missing Primarchs, they may be inclined to assist.

If, for example, the Space Wolves, Salamanders or White Scars believe that their Primarch can be found, surely they will believe that the Lion, reborn as the Emperor, will be able to help find them, no?"

Atticus speaks relatively quickly, trying to finish up so that the others can speak, looking around reasonably quickly to look for alternative opinions.