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This is written as a intro for the Cardinal Rosh Elu, False Messiah of the Legiul system. He and Oculis are obviously in league with each other, and world after world comes under the destructive taint of Tzeentch's unfathomable master plan.
"You have yet to explain to me the benefits of your plan, Cardinal," growled the grizzled veteran across the table. "So far, it's been nothing but talk, talk, talk about what you think you can do, but nothing concrete about whether it will truly work or not." Pulling out a slobbery cigar and tapping it roughly against the arm of his chair, his only working eye slipped to the side to appraise the young female attendant refilling his wine-glass. Stony-faced, she retreated, and he had no other choice but to return Cardinal Rosh Elu to his field of vision. "For all I know, you've gone stark-raving bonkers and should be put down."
The scarlet-clad religious leader smiled enigmatically behind clasped hands, his steely-blue eyes looking over every feature on the Guardsman's face, as he took a deep breath in and raised himself up in his seat. His thick, hite beard bobbled as he spoke in a tone so hushed that the Planetary Defense Force's commander was forced to lean forward to hear him. "The Emperor spoke to me in a vision last night, Josiah."
The commander blinked incredulously, "You are bonkers. I can't believe that."
The cardinal's smile widened, as he nodded for his attendants to leave the room. "Like you couldn't believe that news of that one desperate sacrifice in the safety of your own home, to a power of Chaos..." The guardsman stiffened visibly and instinctively reached for his pistol. "...would ever come out of this cardinal's mouth?" The commander sank in his seat, white with fear, as he realized he had given his pistol to the young female servant requesting weapons at the door. "I know you slaughtered your firstborn, Josiah," the cardinal nodded slowly, his smile fading. "I know you sought the blessings of the God of Plagues." His eyes hardened as he glared at Josiah from across the long mahogany table, furnished with a whole field of plates and candles, stretching for miles between the two diners.
Josiah's heart froze as he began blubbering and wringing his hands. "How? I never told a soul. No one knew, no one!" He was shaking, terrified. Cardinal Elu untangled his fingers from other and set his palms down as Josiah continued, "How could you know? I know you have power, but that doesn't mean you're psychic, does it? Does it?" He blinked. "By the Golden Throne..."
The Cardinal erupted into a wild fit of laughter, raising his hands straight into the air, "Exactly! Exactly, by the Holy Throne of Terra did I hear of your minor divergence from our creed." The commander sat, dumbfounded and not certain he could believe exactly what just happened. Rosh Elu finally calmed himself down, slicked back his greasy, grey-streaked scalp of snow, and returned his small cap from the floor to its rightful place upon his head.
He glanced across the table, and could tell Josiah was still nervous and looking for a way out. Standing up, the Cardinal walked slowly towards the opposite end of the dinner, spreading his arms apart in a warm, welcoming way. "Josiah... Josiah, oh, Josiah..." Josiah jumped up from the table, scattering plates and other dishes across the floor as his chair landed with a crash. "Don't be afraid, Josiah." The commander grabbed a steak knife from the table and flung it at the Cardinal, missing by inches as he grabbed another and backed away.
Cardinal Elu frowned, speaking more forcefully, "Josiah, stop acting foolish. Now."
Backed into the corner by the ever-advancing member of the Ecclesiarchy, Josiah Fichter, ever a weak man, was babbling and sputtering, waving his weapon ineffectually at the priest, begging through broken sobs for his life to be spared. Gently, Elu's hand closed about the guardsman's own. He slowly lowered the knife as his body felt a slow, strange calm begin to course from the Cardinal's hand. His snivelling reduced gradually, second by second, as the cardinal spoke softly and soothingly at his frightened friend. "Josiah... don't be afraid. Your intentions were right." The guardsman whimpered. "You've been forgiven by the Emperor. You won't die today, not by my hand." The Commander kept his eye screwed shut, his faced turned to the wall as Elu brought his hand to his shoulder.
They didn't move for a while, and slowly Josiah's eye opened. His tears had made dark streaks down his ruddy, leathered cheeks as he looked into Elu's own. The priest seemed bathed in an ethereal light, radiating warmth and compassion that strengthened the young general. Elu smiled to him in grandfatherly affection.
Slowly, unsteadily, Josiah smiled back.
"The Emperor has plans for me, my son. I will save you, as I will save us all."
Josiah couldn't contain himself. After all his years of fighting, of watching his men die and his allies crumble, of aliens overwhelming his defenses and cities, and of Legiul falling away to the tide of green ravaging its continents; he could finally feel that it was all worth it. He could finally feel that all his efforts were not in vain. He weeped into the shoulder of his Messiah as they embraced, and Elu held him for a long, long time, soothing him as a mother would soothe a hurt child.
In the corner, hidden in the veil of darkness, another man watched the scene unfold. The sorceror smiled to himself, knowing now that he had his prey fully within his clutches. "That's a good boy, Cardinal," Rashael breathed silently as the two men embraced. Soon, the men of Kasr Legiul, and with them the rest of the survivors the Ork rampage, would all soon play right into his Father's hands. The Orks had served their purpose.
The darkness filled the empty eyes, and Rashael the Fork-Tongued was gone.
sweet fluff, man. you should write some more explaining whut happens next.
I'd discuss it more, and I really really want to, but I'm currently suffering from chronic fatigue, a hangover and sunburn all down my legs. Excuse me.
The above poster = Totally a member of the Fluff Masters Clan. Click here for fluff pwnage.
Come, sons of LO! Kneel before Poodle!
Mr_Wayne: "Some people believe that the World Eaters do not field any ranged weaponry. Those people often die at a distance."