Candy Cane Elf
AdvancedJ3lly@StoneWolf@agentmanatee@Sarpedon
Brother-Chaplain Canus listened to each of the newest batch of Astartes assigned to the Deathwatch, ignoring for the moment the questions that each seemed to have - every one except for the enigmatic 'Brother Lakon', and his thousand-yard stare. Some might have seen this as a sign of disrespect, averting your eyes when speaking to both a superior and a Chaplain was usually grounds for some form of punishment. Canus on the other hand had seen such looks before, although usually in the eyes of one of the more demented Battle-Brothers of his Chapter, those gripped by the rage or the thirst that dwelt within every child of Sanguinius, himself included. No, he would let such a blatantly ignorant reaction slide...this time.
"Well met then, Brothers," he said with a grim smile, his eyes looking deep into each one of them as he paced back and forth along the line. Silently he judged them, weighing them, testing them and coming to the conclusion that each was clearly a capable warrior, and yet there was more to fighting than feats of arms alone.
A sharp halt and perfect snap-turn bought him about to face the Space Wolf, the smile quickly leaving his expression once more.
"Brother Hagni, bearded and blooded you may be, but you will address me as sir or Chaplain; I am not a 'lad' and, in spite of much familiarity among the Sons of Russ, I do not appreciate being addressed as such. I am also older than you might believe, hardly the age for such a title."
As he was about to turn away he remembered the second question, half-looking back into those yellow eyes, "your armour shall be awaiting you all in your chambers...the stains of honour upon it intact."
His next steps took him past the impassive loner, only the merest of glances even signalling that he realised Lakon was there, instead pressing swiftly on to stand before Haakon.
Without pause of ceremony he stepped toward the Malevolent warrior, stopping only when their faces were nearly touching, his own glacial blue eyes looking unblinkingly toward the 'man', taking in at close range the half-shaven head, tattoos and burnt flesh.
"Brother Haakon," came the words through his perfect teeth, like a small hiss of air from a gas canister, Canus standing even straighter than usual, "your service does you credit, Champion, of that you can be sure! Here in the Deathwatch, though rank remains to divide us, we are nevertheless equal in most respects. Brother Lakon has come to the Watch-Commander and asked for his assistance in his own personal matters - the Commander has accepted, and only he, I and the Battle-Brother here need know his reasons and his origin. That is all, and I hope it shall suffice for now."
Backing away from the Marine Malevolent, sweeping his gaze across the trio, he stopped and arms length away and raised his voice so they all could hear; he was not in the habit of repeating himself twice.
"As I said, you may think you have fought and slain everything there is to slay, defeated all that the universe can throw at you, and that you are truly worthy of the Emperor's blessing," something akin to a flash of humour appeared momentarily in his eyes and then was gone just as suddenly, "I shall tell you now, Brothers, that none of you - no matter what your Chapter or station within it outside of this fortress - are fully prepared." He began to pace once more, looking to each of them in turn and back again, "there are nightmarish horrors beyond the fringe of the Imperium, Chaotic spawns of gibbering flesh that can madden the mind of even an Astartes, Xenos creatures that can burrow through power armour and gut you from the inside out, and worse still. If you honestly believe that you are ready for such things, I tell you now that you are not."
From the shadows behind shuffled a hunched Servitor, its blank face raising itself to look at the Chaplain, "all is prepared, Lord."
"Welcome to Watch Fortress Erioch, Brothers. Please, follow me."
Through winding passages and past a hundred differing rooms and chambers they went, their bootfalls echoing in unusually still he air of those ceramite-walled corridors, a heavy veil of calm and mystery sitting on the outer passages of the fortress. Here and there they might spot a figure or two, usually a Serf or another of the more human inhabitants of the genuinely labyrinthine construct, but sometimes a silent Space Marine clad in the sombre black of the Watch; nobody asked where they were going, and they would not tell, but each seemed to treat Canus with deference due to his role within their fraternity of warriors.
On both sides of the small group were chambers, chapels and other rooms, some with simple wooden doorways and arches, and some hidden away and protected by Adamantine portals; war-tattered banners of glories past fluttered overhead, cells, practice ranges, armouries and briefing theatres, until they finally made their way to a room large enough for a dozen Astartes.
Through a single door they came walking single-file, before them a refectory; four walls of cold and solid rock illuminated by the dim flickering light of a hundred devotional candles and furnished with four large tables - each topped with iron - and eight long benches, all carved from stone.
"Make yourselves comfortable," stated the Chaplain, two baleful lights shining from the sockets of the skull-shaped helmet he had placed back over his head, "if you wish for any sustenance then Torik here will be only too happy to bring it to you."
A smaller figure at least two feet shorter than the superhuman Astartes, but well-built, muscled and with a look of determination on his chiselled face and in his brown eyes, moved past Canus and the others to take his place to the right of the empty arch which acted as the doorway into the eating and feasting area.
"Once I have made ready your cells, you shall be informed and taken to them. Until then, you are here."
Even as he moved away down the corridor, his footsteps getting fainter and fainter to the hearing of his Brothers, Chaplain Canus had no fear of them leaving. If they were to leave the hall then they would soon find themselves lost, or at worst dead, so it was in their own interest to remain where they were. For now they had some time on their hands, and it would be educational for all to see how they used it.
Brother-Chaplain Canus listened to each of the newest batch of Astartes assigned to the Deathwatch, ignoring for the moment the questions that each seemed to have - every one except for the enigmatic 'Brother Lakon', and his thousand-yard stare. Some might have seen this as a sign of disrespect, averting your eyes when speaking to both a superior and a Chaplain was usually grounds for some form of punishment. Canus on the other hand had seen such looks before, although usually in the eyes of one of the more demented Battle-Brothers of his Chapter, those gripped by the rage or the thirst that dwelt within every child of Sanguinius, himself included. No, he would let such a blatantly ignorant reaction slide...this time.
"Well met then, Brothers," he said with a grim smile, his eyes looking deep into each one of them as he paced back and forth along the line. Silently he judged them, weighing them, testing them and coming to the conclusion that each was clearly a capable warrior, and yet there was more to fighting than feats of arms alone.
A sharp halt and perfect snap-turn bought him about to face the Space Wolf, the smile quickly leaving his expression once more.
"Brother Hagni, bearded and blooded you may be, but you will address me as sir or Chaplain; I am not a 'lad' and, in spite of much familiarity among the Sons of Russ, I do not appreciate being addressed as such. I am also older than you might believe, hardly the age for such a title."
As he was about to turn away he remembered the second question, half-looking back into those yellow eyes, "your armour shall be awaiting you all in your chambers...the stains of honour upon it intact."
His next steps took him past the impassive loner, only the merest of glances even signalling that he realised Lakon was there, instead pressing swiftly on to stand before Haakon.
Without pause of ceremony he stepped toward the Malevolent warrior, stopping only when their faces were nearly touching, his own glacial blue eyes looking unblinkingly toward the 'man', taking in at close range the half-shaven head, tattoos and burnt flesh.
"Brother Haakon," came the words through his perfect teeth, like a small hiss of air from a gas canister, Canus standing even straighter than usual, "your service does you credit, Champion, of that you can be sure! Here in the Deathwatch, though rank remains to divide us, we are nevertheless equal in most respects. Brother Lakon has come to the Watch-Commander and asked for his assistance in his own personal matters - the Commander has accepted, and only he, I and the Battle-Brother here need know his reasons and his origin. That is all, and I hope it shall suffice for now."
Backing away from the Marine Malevolent, sweeping his gaze across the trio, he stopped and arms length away and raised his voice so they all could hear; he was not in the habit of repeating himself twice.
"As I said, you may think you have fought and slain everything there is to slay, defeated all that the universe can throw at you, and that you are truly worthy of the Emperor's blessing," something akin to a flash of humour appeared momentarily in his eyes and then was gone just as suddenly, "I shall tell you now, Brothers, that none of you - no matter what your Chapter or station within it outside of this fortress - are fully prepared." He began to pace once more, looking to each of them in turn and back again, "there are nightmarish horrors beyond the fringe of the Imperium, Chaotic spawns of gibbering flesh that can madden the mind of even an Astartes, Xenos creatures that can burrow through power armour and gut you from the inside out, and worse still. If you honestly believe that you are ready for such things, I tell you now that you are not."
From the shadows behind shuffled a hunched Servitor, its blank face raising itself to look at the Chaplain, "all is prepared, Lord."
"Welcome to Watch Fortress Erioch, Brothers. Please, follow me."
************
Through winding passages and past a hundred differing rooms and chambers they went, their bootfalls echoing in unusually still he air of those ceramite-walled corridors, a heavy veil of calm and mystery sitting on the outer passages of the fortress. Here and there they might spot a figure or two, usually a Serf or another of the more human inhabitants of the genuinely labyrinthine construct, but sometimes a silent Space Marine clad in the sombre black of the Watch; nobody asked where they were going, and they would not tell, but each seemed to treat Canus with deference due to his role within their fraternity of warriors.
On both sides of the small group were chambers, chapels and other rooms, some with simple wooden doorways and arches, and some hidden away and protected by Adamantine portals; war-tattered banners of glories past fluttered overhead, cells, practice ranges, armouries and briefing theatres, until they finally made their way to a room large enough for a dozen Astartes.
Through a single door they came walking single-file, before them a refectory; four walls of cold and solid rock illuminated by the dim flickering light of a hundred devotional candles and furnished with four large tables - each topped with iron - and eight long benches, all carved from stone.
"Make yourselves comfortable," stated the Chaplain, two baleful lights shining from the sockets of the skull-shaped helmet he had placed back over his head, "if you wish for any sustenance then Torik here will be only too happy to bring it to you."
A smaller figure at least two feet shorter than the superhuman Astartes, but well-built, muscled and with a look of determination on his chiselled face and in his brown eyes, moved past Canus and the others to take his place to the right of the empty arch which acted as the doorway into the eating and feasting area.
"Once I have made ready your cells, you shall be informed and taken to them. Until then, you are here."
Even as he moved away down the corridor, his footsteps getting fainter and fainter to the hearing of his Brothers, Chaplain Canus had no fear of them leaving. If they were to leave the hall then they would soon find themselves lost, or at worst dead, so it was in their own interest to remain where they were. For now they had some time on their hands, and it would be educational for all to see how they used it.