This is not so much of a report,so much as it is a record and reflection for meself. I shall explain that later. Since the last time I wrote one of these, much has happened, and much has changed.
It began when we took a lander down to a planet being taken over by heretics. There was a small resistance group we were supposed to be meeting up with to support, and after taking precaution to divert attention away from our landing zone, we made for cover at what apeered to be a chicken farm. There were a few heretics in the area that we quickly got rid of, and after making sure we were alone, we got to work hiding the lander in one of the barns.
We were approached a few days later by resistance members Captain Whitfield, and his mate Andy. Although they were initially upset at how few we were in number, it wasn’t too hard to convince them they needed our help. They were utterly skin and bones, starved from a total lack of support over the last wile. They offered us a monetary incentive for helping them, but seeing the state themselves were in, it was silly to want to take any more from them, and instead, we offered them a share of our wares.
We needed to collect a man named Nihilan, located in the Bastion of Woe. The Captain suggested we travel through to Deepwood Motte, and from there, sail our way up the coast line in order to reach the Bastion from the safest angle. I found this plan quite fitting to my tastes, and convinced the lot it was a good idea. However, our cross country trek was not the most pleasant. In order to supply the resistance members with food, we could only afford to eat every other day, and were pretty hungry.
We finally made our way to a small fishery so that we could find ourselves a ship. The locals there had sadly been taught to fear the Light of the Emperor’s grace, but with some kind words and convincing, they quickly remembered freedom from heresy, and were plenty eager to join us in The Fight. From the fishery, we sailed our way up the coastline, and spent time observing the Bastion to find the best angle of approach. Getting our hands on some messenger uniforms, we managed to infiltrate our way past the outer wall, and plant explosives away from our point of escape.
Under the blanket of darkness that came in the night we scaled the tower of the Bastion of Woe. We entered at the balcony of a bedroom, which, as luck would have it, turned out to be the bedroom of Nihilan himself. He wasn’t in the room when we entered, so expecting his return; we hid in the room and waited.
It wasn’t at all difficult to get him out, and we were actually quite surprised at how willing he was to leave with us. Rappelling down the tower, we detonated the charges, leaving panic and pandemonium in our wake. We made our way back to the ports, but as our getaway ship had no time to stop, we had to jump to catch it. Fortunately we got away safely, and returned to the Wrath of Drusus. *
*It is hard to understand exactly what happened aboard the Wrath of Drusus. They tell me now that the ship was heretical, but I don’t understand how I couldn’t see it then. I suspect something is wrong here.
Two months later, we were returned to Iocanthos, another war already raging at the surface. This time we were tasked with regaining control of a particular tower. As we climbed it, it became increasingly clear that this tower was not untouched by dark forces, and we could sense daemons everywhere. Once we finally reached the top of the tower, our co-worker Lucas apeered to be absolutely destroyed across the floor, and we arrived just in time to see Von Haffen being cut in have by a chaotic looking space marine. Somehow managing to stay alive, as we tried to fight the marine, he crawled his way over to a glowing dark orb that was behind him, and touched it.
The next thing we know, we’ve woken up in a jail cell, accused heresy and sentenced to execution the next day. I wanted to see it through, I really did, knowing that with The Emperor to protect me, I hadn’t anything to fear. But Six convinced me that so long as there was breath in my lungs, there was His work to be done, which I could not do from inside a jail cell, or hanging by my neck. So when the opportunity to escape presented itself in the form of an evil man, I took it, knowing that I would right things in other ways. What we thought to be our friend Doctor Jones was really just another heretic. He showed us the gates to freedom, and I no longer feel shame at having taken them.
It is presently that I am reminded of a prayer, one I find meself repeting frequently these days.
Those who follow false Gods
And work to deceive others, know this:
There is but one Truth.
All things are known to our Emperor
And He shall judge our lies.