[@Dead Cruiser]


Lartius watched the Priest examine the casket with a professional eye, although a Flesh Tearer he was nonetheless a member of the Sanguinary Priests brotherhood and represented their caste of Chaplain-Apothecaries across the successors of the Legion. As the retainer of a sarcophagus himself, he knew that it would work, but humoured the Tearer as a good mentor should.

When asked to regale Sirren with exploits he was momentarily stumped, thinking through a dozen and more actions of the past before he finally settled on a select few, remaining where he stood nearby the door and running a gauntleted hand over his marble-like chin.

“You may run your tests, Brother-Priest,” he boomed, his voice larger in the confined walls of the chamber than they had been within the hangar, “but we have others of your ilk that have done so already.”

Looking up to the ceiling for a moment, thoughts swimming behind his perfectly blue eyes, he then looked back at Sirren with something similar to a smile on his lips.

“I have nearly a century with the Deathwatch, a long vigil by any standards, and thus far I have seen things that I never even believed existed...” his mouth tightened as he remembered things still fresh in his mind, as all thoughts would be, “I have fought against things made more of mist than of flesh, slain creatures – parasites is a better word – that burrow into the mind and can take control even of an Astartes, having to slay my own brothers.” The expression on his face relaxed a little again, his inner turmoil churning within him, “most of the new recruits will believe they have fought the worst that the galaxy has to offer, that there cannot be anything to stand before the might of the Emperor's Angels, and that they are warriors without a match even beyond the edges of our galaxy; this is all a lie, and they shall find this out before the end of their own vigil.”

The Blood Angel lapped into silence, gazing out into the corridor and watching shadowy forms of initiates and their mentors moving here and there, speaking again without looking back at the Sanguinary Priest.

“Once we reach the armoury, you will have only days before you see what I mean,” replacing his helmet upon his head with a small [i]hiss[/i] he took one last look at Sirren, “I shall be back within the hour to take you there, until then I suggest you purify yourself after your long journey.”



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[@Wraithblade6]


The Consecrator said nothing as events were explained to him, barely even moving until Aldaric ceased talking, before asking that the Angel of Absolution walk with him toward the armoury; talk of Planet Killers, Black Crusades and Abaddon the Heretic drove the Astartes internally into a rage.

“What would you wish to know, Brother?” Came the half-whispered voice from the black-armoured Marine, “there is much to tell...” For a moment he said nothing more, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the high ceilings of the labyrinth of corridors, “steel yourself,” he said after an instant, “against the foul xenos there can be no better defence than to keep oneself hardened to all else, allow yourself to hate them with every fibre of your being, and you shall do the Emperor's work.”

He had slain the xenos for nearly two-hundred years, had worn the black both before and after joining the Deathwatch, and was generally silent on issues of the Deathwatch in general. Asked the right questions though, knowing he was now a mentor to this younger Marine, the Consecrator would answer.



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[@DracoLunaris]


Brother Berumedes listened intently to his gene-brother, nodding at the correct time and giving his own quick sallies when necessary, and would have smiled – had he even been able to any more – at the opinions of the Son of Medusa on his comrades-in-arms.

“You allude to their weaknesses as a true son of Ferrus,” came the robotic tone once more, “for we both know that there is only the strength of metal, the flesh is weak.”

Pausing to regard his next words, the Techmarine pointed toward the hangar doors and gently guided Draksal by his shoulder toward it.

“I know you wish to see the armoury, and your appreciation of the items within shall do you great honour, just recall that these things are to go unrecorded and unknown outside of the Deathwatch.”