General > Graveyard
Machine Spirit PBF
Marcus Constantine:
"I must haven't been paying attention. What did you notice?"
Malek Deneith:
- Security father Constantine, security... We walked past much more security patrols than usual, they have heavy weapon emplacements set up at strategic locations and I managed even to spot a few skitarii legionaries. Either tech-priests got *reall* freaked out by those problems with their machinery, or there is something more going on here than just minor cult activity - Lazerus finished with a grim smile.
Marcus Constantine:
"I have to admit, that I have been admiring the surroundings rather then looking at it as a fortress. But indeed, it looks like they are waiting for an invasion. Never less, one has to be ready for the Chaos. It can plant it seeds of despair into the weak hearts. This is where I, a humble servant of our Emperor has to prevent the Chaos from sowing. But also, it can attack with an enormous force. This is where... raw force is the only answer."
"It looks like Khorne" - Marcus spits - "wants to pay this place a visit. Let's just hope, this whole security is just a normal precaution."
"And please do not call me a father. There is a really long way before me until I become a father."
Xander Morhaime:
"Or you could be one and not know about it yet," Halsted suggested. "Wouldn't believe how many times *that* happened when we were mustering out."
Investigating the locker by his bunk, the guardsman found a few ration bars. "Ah. Somehow I had hoped that, working for the Inquisition, the food might at least be better..." With a shrug, he set to eating one of the ration bars, tuning out the input from his tastebuds. "Best you lot get a bite as well while we've some downtime," he added. "As far as security goes... there's that whole fleet up top assembling, right? Besides, I don't make a habit of visiting forge worlds, you know? For all I know, this could be what business as usual looks down here."
Silhar:
The Eldar slowly stepped into the room. Though he noticed the cage, he threw himself on a random bunk instead. It has been a long time since he could rest on something other than bare soil or prison floor. At a first glance he seemed too absent to notice words being said. At a first glance... Yet he was listening carefully to every word spoken.
After around a quarter, he crouched next to the locker and examined it, trying to find any clothing at first, but also hoping for firearms and maybe something to feast upon. The Outcast was all silent. He pulled out a corpse-starch bar and gave it a bite, finding no other items of interest.
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