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Ashur of Banipal
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==Testimonies== <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> Ashur sat, quietly, and listened to his brothers speak. One by one, they all brought forth good arguments, both in favour of and against the Librarium program. Lambach’s speech made him shiver in his seat, the radiance of his psykic potential causing Ashur a migraine. Once the Primarch of the Chosen of Hecate had made room, the Lord of Bronze and Bone motioned to take the stand. Like Kinnévail, he did not wear his power armour today. He was clad in light robes of the colour of onyx and a belt fashioned from polished copper seated around his waist, with many charms hanging from it as well as from a coppery necklace, which all tingled with each of his heavy steps. He observed the room, saw curious glances as well as condescending expressions. The savage from a backwater world dared to speak on such a fateful and sophisticated topic. Ashur chuckled lightly at the irony, that the savage could probably speak the best about this matter. “On my homeworld”, he began, “there lived a man. He was an outcast. He used to be a medicine man who had learned otherworldly craft to heal, and to divine good fortune. Instead, he betrayed his kin. He broke his vows and dived deep into dark arts, and he exploited his knowledge to search and identify the evil within the hearts of men to nurture it, so that he could manipulate and abuse them. He had become a foul wytch.” He paused and surveilled the room as he let those last words hang in the air, then continued: “Mind you, he didn’t just come by these skills. He was chosen at an early age by an experienced and wise shaman. He had been guided for long years of his life, had been educated in the dangers of his craft, had been under close watch for signs of corruption or failings of character. Nobody expected him to fail the test – And yet, he did.” “He failed, and many others paid the price. He murdered his teacher and his chieftain and enslaved his tribe through fear and sorcery. He tyrannised his neighbours until they retaliated in brutal hatred. He escaped to the steppes, but his tribe had been annihilated. He roamed alone, offered his despicable craft to anybody, and sometimes threatened people with curses for food and shelter. Sometimes, he called down plagues over the great cities.” “One day, he came to my tribe, when I still lived in the plains. I could tell from far away that a darkness radiated from him, that his soul was befouled in ways I cannot fathom to this day. I remember him approaching, speaking in a voice that made my ears ache and my heart skip a beat”, he turned towards Lambach for a second, a worried expression on his face, “and children crying. He threatened us, that if we didn’t let him stay for the night he would kill our firstborn on the spot. We declined – And he held true to his word.” “He called out to the darkest corners of the Otherworld and struck down three of my tribesmen where they stood, their bodies crumbling to ash. He spoke more cursed words and a living darkness began to thrash my camp. I remember being… Paralysed, and I remember how my entire body stirred in defiance of his evil. I deeply regret every second I did not react then, but the horror I had beheld had overwhelmed me so that every feeling had seeped from my body. I struggled to regain my senses, and when I did...” Ashur paused, his eyes surveilling the room and, whether intentional or not, stopped again at Lambach. “...I killed him.” The Lord of Bronze and Bone let the words hang in the air, his eyes cast to the floor, choosing his next words. “I understand the reasoning of my brothers who speak in favour of this program, and I do see its potential. Yet, the age-old traditions of my homeworld could not prevent this one man to abuse his skills. In fact, he was not a single instance: The history of Babylon V is riddled with good men falling victim to corruption. And now, barely a few decades of research are supposed to establish a program that presumably should be able to prevent another individual to be torture upon his neighbours?” He shook his head in disbelief, then continued: ”I caution my own Stargazers daily to be diligent in their task to find those among their ranks unsuitable for the burden of just divining through their traditional means, to not ever go beyond the boundaries. This program demands we not only go beyond, no, but we should also tear the boundaries down and trample the ruins!” He motioned to retake his seat, but then paused in his step and turn towards his psychikally inclined brothers. “I have no doubt you have best intentions. I have no doubt that you believe in your willpower. I very much doubt your sons to match up to you, and I very much doubt you are aware of the consequences should one of yours fall.” With that last sentence, Ashur calmly left the middle accompanied by the tingling of his charms and retook his seat. Visible for all was his worried, almost mournful, expression. He did not like to speak about this memory, for it made him appear weak in the face of his stalwart brothers, and he knew it made him appear hostile toward his ‘gifted’ brothers although he wanted nothing more than to embrace them. Yet it was his hope to show that, if a Primarch could be so utterly shaken by a mere man falling to corruption, then it was truly a terrible enough thing to not risk an Astartes to do the same. </div> </div> <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed">
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