Post by inquisitorkurlin on Oct 15, 2007 11:04:30 GMT -5
Dacius called it “the Gilded Hall.” A vast, dome shaped room of dark brown stone shot through with black veins, embellished with shining gold struts sculpted to resemble flames rising to the ceiling. Each strut was unique, its tapering edge playing against the ceiling to form a dome over the one small skylight over Dacius’ throne.
Dacius himself sat on the throne in multilayered robes of scarlet, a well-sculpted skull mask of solid gold fitted over his features. Whereas his servants wore masks of cherubic seemings complete with gold foil ringlets, his and his alone was a full helmet devoid of faux hair. His gloves were fashioned after skeletal fingers, with silvery blades curving past the fingertips.
He was surrounded by servitors and an astropath. The astropath was chained solidly to the floor, with the links surgically implanted to run through her flesh. She’d been a beautiful girl once, barely seventeen, but the warp was taking its toll on her. She was thinner than healthy for her now and her hair was starting to fade. She wore rags at best, though she was cleaned twice a day by a dedicated servitor.
Dacius’ bone and flesh throne rotated on its dais to face her. “Tell me, youngster: What news?” His baritone voice was smooth and carried the sounds of an educated man.
The girl shuddered and looked up at him, eyes glazed, lips parted. “You know,” she wheezed slowly.
Dacius’ throne turned from her. It faced the head priest in the room, kneeling ten feet from the dais in robes red edged in gold. “Her answer never changes. I like that consistency normally but I wonder that she’s not keeping something vital from me out of spite.”
“It lies in your means to force any secret from her, my lord.” The priest did not look up.
“Tempting, but I need her as intact as possible to render the service I need most. She leaves me at an impasse but only for now. Thus stated, we continue on. Report on Centaurius?”
“The Dark Angels are working with the Inquisitor Lord from Erudalis IV. They recently fought off a mass of orks in a dead city and then secured key locations for an unknown reason.”
Dacius shifted on his throne anxiously. “Are pict caps of their movements in that city available?”
“We are working on smuggling some of them offworld. We do not want to use normal communication methods as we’re afraid the Inquisitor will compromise them.”
“The Inquisitor is hardly my concern. I want that information as quickly as possible. See to it personally that it arrives safely. You have my leave to petition my audience at any hour that it arrives so I may see it personally and immediately.”
“As you wish.”
“And the book of my testmanets?”
“Centaurius had the infrastructure to support widespread publication and distribution of the texts, and discreetly. However, there is no further reason to believe that we can safely produce the Golden Truth there. We are desperately trying to move the accumulated stock off world.”
“Not all of it. Leave some to be found and destroyed by the Inquisitor. The more successful he feels, the less he will apply his full resources against our cause. We’re fortunate he’s left so much of his force spread thin on Erudalis IV as it is. Distribute texts to the imperial guard and population through the usual channels. Most importantly, I want you to plant evidence that will point back to Erudalis IV instead of our other hub world. Keep the Inquisitor running in circles.”
“As you command it, my lord.”
Dacius made a fist, then snapped his fingers open. “You are unlocked.”
The priest bowed, touching his head to the stone floor, then rose and left quietly.
Dacius sent a mental command to one of the servitors. The chamber sealed and locked. He rose and circled the imprisoned girl, rising to his imposing eight food height.
“I don’t treat torture as any form of clever suggestion. I like to think myself civil and beyond the bestial limits of such needful sadism. You are inconvenienced enough. I’d not see you suffer in my paranoia to test the limits of your hidden knowledge. Still, surgically applied agonies have been instrumental for interrogation through the span of human history. Must I see you wither so just to trust your word?”
“You….know.”
“You must forgive me if I find conversation with you an excruciating bore. Perhaps you have your own method of torture reserved simply for me.” He bent low and lifted her quivering chin in his fingertips. “Remember that you preserve yourself through your utility. When you fail to divest your learnings to me, you will be disposed of purely through practical necessity.”
She looked at him a moment. Then her face twisted. Her voice grew ten times deeper, not even human, and she seemed to speak as several voices at once. The language was incoherent, a system of growls, grunts, barked guttural sounds. It lasted only a few moments.
Dacius jumped backward and recoiled a few more steps. He studied her cautiously even as her body relaxed and she sank sobbing to the ground, the links of the chains ringing quietly against themselves.
“No,” he told her at length. “No. Not quite yet. But soon. And when it happens, it will be too late.”
Dacius himself sat on the throne in multilayered robes of scarlet, a well-sculpted skull mask of solid gold fitted over his features. Whereas his servants wore masks of cherubic seemings complete with gold foil ringlets, his and his alone was a full helmet devoid of faux hair. His gloves were fashioned after skeletal fingers, with silvery blades curving past the fingertips.
He was surrounded by servitors and an astropath. The astropath was chained solidly to the floor, with the links surgically implanted to run through her flesh. She’d been a beautiful girl once, barely seventeen, but the warp was taking its toll on her. She was thinner than healthy for her now and her hair was starting to fade. She wore rags at best, though she was cleaned twice a day by a dedicated servitor.
Dacius’ bone and flesh throne rotated on its dais to face her. “Tell me, youngster: What news?” His baritone voice was smooth and carried the sounds of an educated man.
The girl shuddered and looked up at him, eyes glazed, lips parted. “You know,” she wheezed slowly.
Dacius’ throne turned from her. It faced the head priest in the room, kneeling ten feet from the dais in robes red edged in gold. “Her answer never changes. I like that consistency normally but I wonder that she’s not keeping something vital from me out of spite.”
“It lies in your means to force any secret from her, my lord.” The priest did not look up.
“Tempting, but I need her as intact as possible to render the service I need most. She leaves me at an impasse but only for now. Thus stated, we continue on. Report on Centaurius?”
“The Dark Angels are working with the Inquisitor Lord from Erudalis IV. They recently fought off a mass of orks in a dead city and then secured key locations for an unknown reason.”
Dacius shifted on his throne anxiously. “Are pict caps of their movements in that city available?”
“We are working on smuggling some of them offworld. We do not want to use normal communication methods as we’re afraid the Inquisitor will compromise them.”
“The Inquisitor is hardly my concern. I want that information as quickly as possible. See to it personally that it arrives safely. You have my leave to petition my audience at any hour that it arrives so I may see it personally and immediately.”
“As you wish.”
“And the book of my testmanets?”
“Centaurius had the infrastructure to support widespread publication and distribution of the texts, and discreetly. However, there is no further reason to believe that we can safely produce the Golden Truth there. We are desperately trying to move the accumulated stock off world.”
“Not all of it. Leave some to be found and destroyed by the Inquisitor. The more successful he feels, the less he will apply his full resources against our cause. We’re fortunate he’s left so much of his force spread thin on Erudalis IV as it is. Distribute texts to the imperial guard and population through the usual channels. Most importantly, I want you to plant evidence that will point back to Erudalis IV instead of our other hub world. Keep the Inquisitor running in circles.”
“As you command it, my lord.”
Dacius made a fist, then snapped his fingers open. “You are unlocked.”
The priest bowed, touching his head to the stone floor, then rose and left quietly.
Dacius sent a mental command to one of the servitors. The chamber sealed and locked. He rose and circled the imprisoned girl, rising to his imposing eight food height.
“I don’t treat torture as any form of clever suggestion. I like to think myself civil and beyond the bestial limits of such needful sadism. You are inconvenienced enough. I’d not see you suffer in my paranoia to test the limits of your hidden knowledge. Still, surgically applied agonies have been instrumental for interrogation through the span of human history. Must I see you wither so just to trust your word?”
“You….know.”
“You must forgive me if I find conversation with you an excruciating bore. Perhaps you have your own method of torture reserved simply for me.” He bent low and lifted her quivering chin in his fingertips. “Remember that you preserve yourself through your utility. When you fail to divest your learnings to me, you will be disposed of purely through practical necessity.”
She looked at him a moment. Then her face twisted. Her voice grew ten times deeper, not even human, and she seemed to speak as several voices at once. The language was incoherent, a system of growls, grunts, barked guttural sounds. It lasted only a few moments.
Dacius jumped backward and recoiled a few more steps. He studied her cautiously even as her body relaxed and she sank sobbing to the ground, the links of the chains ringing quietly against themselves.
“No,” he told her at length. “No. Not quite yet. But soon. And when it happens, it will be too late.”