So, I May Be A Daemon (Warhammer High)

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Revision as of 20:44, 7 May 2018 by 1d4chan>AsterixCodix (Creation)
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At the moment, there only exists a prologue. Expect more to arrive.

Prologue

"There! Near Cadia a temporal anomaly. Unlike anything I've ever seen!” A Cadian in black armour and red fatigues pointed to an indistinct blob on the terminal monitor to his right, displaying the results of numerous scans taken in and around points of conflict for the Imperium and its enemies. “That’s just a Warp storm Jefferson. Remind me why I requisitioned you and not just your equipment?” Inquisitor Conroy van Vonvolkvan stared at his subordinate resisting the urge to put Bolter round through his skull, to see the brains of the incompetent guardsman before him splattered over is equipment. No, it’d be better to wait out the pain of his incompetence. He swiped dust off his pauldrons, unable to see what he was doing for his they created a collar around his head. A slight click, was all that would indicate a rail along the back of his cloak; it was the only thing that kept his armour together, else his pauldrons would fall to the ground, and he’d be left in bare Inquisitorial Power Armour, revealing it to be little more than the armour of a Neophyte. “Milord, you requisitioned me, because I designed this equipment.” Sergeant Jefferson of the 1st Mars, was a man in his early 20’s, with a distinct lack of a right leg. He and his men clearly hadn’t slept for days, given the Chimera’s stench of black coffee. “You requisitioned the Phobos’ Fury me, and my men because of our expertise with machines. It is honestly surprising that the Dominus allowed this, given how the 1st-" “I need someone to transmit something to any ship near the Cadian system now.” An effeminate voice reaches the Inquisitor from behind the Vox station, “What’s the message my lord?” “Send a ship to Cadia, loaded with as much recording equipment as they can fit and at least 3 Techpriests.” “Yes my lord.” Leaning towards Jeffersons station, glaring at the abnormalities upon the display, the Inquisitor slaps him on the back, “Congratulations Jefferson.”

Chapter 1