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originally posted in: Prison of Exiles (RP - RoB)
Edited by Robot745: 9/7/2016 2:52:20 PM
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[i]The Depths of Hatred[/i] [i]Having gathered all he could from the slave's mind Nebamun rose, the chaos would allow him a quick escape. The Rubicae followed him as he willed a hole through the plasteel wall beside him. Moving through an alley he telepathically contacted his last living slave.[/i] "[i]Prepare my chamber, I must ruminate on today's events.[/i]" "[i]As you wish my lord.[/i]" [i]Nebamun continued through this district ignoring the stunned look of the dwellers. Just as it was in the Crusade, most in the galaxy knew the space marines as legends, Demi gods like those of the ancient Terran cultures. Some might not see nor hear of the space marines in their lifetimes. His appearance in this section of the district was like a divine message to these people. This was further evidence of the corruption of the corpse Emperor's decaying empire. The taint of chaos was kept secret by the High Lords and the Ecclisarchy, for they feared mere exposure to the idea could trigger insurrection. The fact these citizens began to chant hyms to the Emperor whilst touching him and his Rubicae despite their standing with the imperium only confirmed his theories. It disgusted him. Quickly back-handing a rather pious man the crowd gasped and retreated from him. He shouted at them.[/i] "You grovel before me, asking for the grace of the Emperor as if I am some divine angel of his majesty. You know nothing. You serve a rotting corpse laid low ten thousand years ago by my brothers who recognized the Imperium for what it was. We fought to bring world's to heel only to be betrayed by our own and censured whilst trying to prevent the catastrophe of a galaxy you live in now. This Imperium is but a hollow shell of its former glory, a shell I am most certainly willing to shatter beneath my armored boot and grind to dust in the name of vengeance!" [i]At this the crowd began to run and a few sobbed before him, he scowled beneath his helm and, pushing past the humans, continued forward. It was then a powerful psychic presence attracted his notice, it was coming towards him. Raising his bolt pistol he aimed where he knew the thing would appear and, much to his surprise, a small hooded creature bounded up to him. It's form was unidentifiable beneath the robes yet Nebamun noted two shapes, one most obviously a pistol, the other he knew to be a tome. The creature stopped before him and giggled slightly as it pulled from beneath its robes the lost grimoire. Nebamun in a heartbeat went to grab it but to his shock a plasma pistol was already aimed into his chest.[/i] "Ah not so fast Thousand Son, there is still work to be done." "I would tear that tome from your corpse creature, what hope do you have to hide it from my wrath?" [i]The creature cackled to itself as it put the grimoire back into its cloak.[/i] "You see, he hee, a predator stalks thee. One made of faith and duty, not of bestial cruelty... Help me in my quest, and from my possession this tome you will wrest." [i]Nebamun paused, realizing the creature was immune to his powers, and at the mercy of the pistol in his abdomen, he relented.[/i] "What would you have me do?" [i]The creature cackled again[/i]
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