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Justicar Loire Merovech A rare view of Loire in uniform. pre:Career: Arbites->Interrogator Homeworld: Imperial World Insanity: 1 Divination: “Men must die so that Man endures.” Background: Calixian-Pattern Killings Stats: WS: 32=20+12 BS 51=20+11+20 ST 30=20+10 TO 35=20+7+3+5 AG 32=20+12 IT 61=20+16+5+20 PR 36=20+16 WP 60=20+17+3+20 FL 46=20+16+5+5 Skills: Awareness Blather Carouse Charm +20 Ciphers (Underworld) Common Lore (Adeptus Arbites) (Int) Common Lore (Imperial Creed) (Int) Common Lore (Imperium) (Int)+10 Common Lore (Underworld)+10 Common Lore (War) (Int) Concealment+10 Deceive Dodge+10 Forbidden Lore (Cults)+10 Forbidden Lore (Heresy)+10 Inquiry+10 (Fel) Interrogation +20 Intimidate +10 Literacy+20 (Int) Scholastic Lore (Occult)+10 Scholastic Lore (Philosphy) Search Shadowing Silent Move+10 Speak Language (High Gothic)+10 (Int) Speak Language (Low Gothic) (Int) Talents: Air of Authority Armour of Contempt Arms Master Basic Weapons Training (SP) Cult Briefing Decadence Die Hard Disarm Flagellant Forbidden Lore (Psykers) Lightning Reflexes Melee Weapon Training (Primitive) Peer (Nobility) Quick Draw Resistance (Fear) Resistance (Psychic Powers) StreetFighting Strongminded Takedown Talented: Inquiry Gear: Shotgun and 12 shells club brass knuckles knife mesh vest uniform (Good Quality Clothing) 3 doses of stimm injector Arbitrator ID chrono pack of lho-sticks Insanity: 1d5 1 50 XP remaining Loire Merovech had quite possibly been the shittiest trainee at the Schola. Remarkably talented, she burnt out within six months, rapidly descending into heavy drinking and unsanctioned partying. So it didn't surprise anyone that, upon graduation, she'd been shuffled off to the Divisio Immoralis. The idiot she got partnered with to investigate cult activity was more interested in investigating the local bars and brothels, and then taking out his frustrations on random locals with his baton, leaving her to accomplish the mission on her own. Ditching the uniform, she found she had much better luck obtaining information as a "civilian". Within a week she'd made contact. After three months, she walked a willing cell leader into the Arbites headquarters to turn himself in. In exchange for the lives of every other cult member he knew of, he got to live out his life in a penal legion. Quite the deal! And that first mission set the tone for the rest of her brief career with the Divisio Immoralis. Go undercover to low level cult meetings, get people to turn themselves in. It wasn't long before her the Calixis Sector's Chasteners noticed her ability to obtain confessions and dragged her out of the Divisio to serve in a more reputable part of the Arbites. And while she certainly learned and employed a great deal of "enhanced interrogation", she did break from her colleagues with the controversial belief that torture isn't necessary in every case, and merely asking nicely and smiling prettily will suffice for the average citizen. Borderline heresy! Talk about her extreme methods and beliefs must have leaked their way up the foodchain, because after a few short years an Inquisitor named Amal Xan decided to permanently borrow her for unspecified reasons. She was given quick and dirty induction into his cabal of "Cult Stalkers" who basically did what she did in the divisio, only on a much larger scale. Her missions began with infiltrating the pleasure cults of the nobility to root out the chaos cult at the top.  Getting to bash in the sniveling fops faces before dragging them to base to begin peeling off their finger nails was the icing on the cake of six months of posh living, fancy parties, and disgusting octogenarian infested orgies. A few years of that and then Inquisitor Amal decided to have her branch out. She joined up with an underhive revolution to overthrow the decadent Spires to get to the suspected war cults at the root of it. By the time they were all squashed out she was major revolutionary leader in her own right.  They built a statue of her in the capital after the revolution succeeded and swore fealty (and increased tithes!) to the Imperium. To honor her cover identity's "martyrdom". She hung a picture of it in her quarters. After that she was immediately sent off to her current mission. Apparently a cult dedicated to a supposedly living goddess named "Deva" had sprung up on a medieval world. The persistent stories of miracles lead Amal to suspect a powerful psyker or chaos sorcerer was behind it. A few weeks of training to help blend in with the locals and she was sent off to the planet Yanya to find out what and where this Deva was. It turned out to be harder than she expected. While induction into the faith happened almost immediately, as the cult was hardly a secret and extremely evangelical, it didn't get any farther than the local congregation in the planetary capital for over a year. No matter how many hours she put into soup kitchens and bandaging up filthy lepers in the name of Deva, her requests to visit the goddess' hidden palace were always denied. Finally, after eighteen months, the local priest died and a new one had to be selected from the congregation. And guess which lucky inquisitorial spy had so impressed the old dead fart that he'd recommended her as a replacement? Loire fuckin Merovech. Of course someone who had never seen the Goddess couldn't properly minister to her flock, so she was blindfolded, drugged, and carted off to the seaside palace of the Divine. What she found there was... a god. Or might as well have been. Most psykers, when they used their powers, tore at the shreds of reality, crudely shoving their power into where it didn't belong. Deva merely imposed her vision of what should be on reality and it happened. No bleeding ground. No daemons screaming in from the warp. No lightning storms. One time she plucked the moon out of the sky and it was the actual loving moon. She constantly rebuilt her palace to match her mood. She summoned a swimming pool full of wine as a joke. Loire's first "sermon" consisted of Deva sheepishly telling her prostrated worshippers to go do generically good things like feed the poor, and then thinking a two hundred foot tall tower into the middle of the ocean and retreating there. After stumbling away muttering about divine revelations like the rest of the fools on the beach, she contacted Amal to inform him of the Alpha psyker moping in a seatower and to request an evac before the inevitable exterminatus. Instead the glory seeking rear end in a top hat ordered her to stay there, and try to convince it to return it's worshippers to the Emperor and then surrender willingly. And boy howdy doesn't he just have all the faith in the world in Loire's abilities. Salty bastard. And after everything she'd done for him too? gently caress him. But the first part wasn't actually too hard. While only the most sycophantic true believers usually made it this far, Loire had an advantage. She knew that the girl wasn't a god. Godlike in power, but still a mopey psyker who wasn't too keen on being a deity. So the next day when the other disciples were asking inane questions about "the purpose of life" and "eternal happiness" Loire threw out a question she'd stolen from a lovely (and heretical) pulp romance she'd read about a Living Saint and a lowly Sergeant. "Is it lonely being Divine?" Ugh. She felt dirty. But another two days of sappy questions and comments and Deva requested her private audience, where she proceeded to break down and whine about how awful it was that nobody understood her, and that she had no friends, only worshippers. "Oh how dreadful." But from there Loire's rise in the church hierarchy, such as it existed, was meteoric. Instead of sleeping in the dirt with the rest of the grovelers she got a room in the palace with the rest of what she came to think of as Deva's "Handlers". The first thing she did was have those idiots sidelined. Then she thought of how to actually achieve the mission and, ya know, live. Deva was perfectly willing to accept the explanation that her powers came from the God-Emperor. I mean where else would it come from she said. But she'd already had that conversation and her protestations had merely been incorporated into her myth among the higher church officials. So Loire says, how about you actually play the part but slowly introduce the idea to her followers. And so that's what they did, over the course of six years. And on the last morning of those years, Deva, the innocent looking blood marked lamb she'd incorporated into her presentation in her lap, began to go through the now familiar routine of ministering outside the palace. And looking at her now, the day in one hand, and the night in another, sitting atop the universe...  Yeah, Loire could see how someone with no knowledge of psykers or associated terms like "Alpha-Plus" might come to the conclusion that she was God. But all that was coming to an end today. Which made the "Holy Handmaiden" (Something had to be done before Holy Consort made its way back to the Inquisition. They might decide she belonged on a blackship too) begin to worry as to how exactly she was going to go about bringing Deva in. A psyker of Deva's extraordinary ability was something to be handled delicately, as an indelicate handling would result in a few billion casualties and some disintegrated Titan maniples. And successfully turning her into an Imperial asset was....still hilariously unlikely. Even now. Loire wasn't delusional, if she was lucky Deva might get to live out her life in some Inquisitorial research facility with an exterminatus on standby, but she was probably gonna be fed to the Culexus whether Loire succeeded in the Inquisitors mission or not. He'd still get all the praise though. Deva, speaking with a thousand harmonious voices, was droning on: "You people honor me with your lips, but your hearts are far from me. You worship me in vain, your prayers are mere human vanity." People were sobbing and shaking their heads, crying out to her that they loved her. One brave idiot approached and asked, "What do you mean? Explain how we have failed!" Ok now comes the part about about Deva merely being a conduit of the Emperors divine power and love and oh why is the loving lamb talking-  "Dullard thou art! Don’t you see that you have offered nothing? What use are words?" Maybe Deva was doing it? She'd created a flock of songbirds and then made them tapdance across the bedroom before. But Deva looked just as dumbfounded as Loire as to why her pet lamb had decided to begin screaming abuse at her followers. Oh no  "You must offer all of yourself. Not just your soul, but your possessions, your body, your blood, your VERY LIFE!" Oh fuuuck. Loire, realizing that she was probably committing indirect suicide, brought the pistol strapped to her thigh up to bear on the castigating daemonsheep and Deva behind it, squeezing her eyes shut as she pulled the trigger. She knew that actually seeing what happened next was a terrible idea. Things not meant for mortal minds and all that. The unearthly screaming and pulsing waves of wrong that followed confirmed that intuition, as she violently puked up her breakfast. When she was finally able to stop heaving she realized it'd gone very quiet. A look up presented her a view of the planet she hadn't had since she arrived. "So. What now." There's a hole in her clothing where the bullet hit, but no wound. "Uhhh...What happened to the lamb." "It's eating them." Them is presumably the upper officials of the Church of Deva. Good riddance. They were apparently still outside the palace. Just on the moon. Huh. Well it wasn't a huge effort to convince Deva to turn herself into the Emperors protection to learn how to avoid having Greater Daemons infest her pets. Teleported them straight to Amals ship where Amal convinced her to step into a cryotube with her permission and explaining that I'd have to go away while she learned to become a proper psyker (which Loire assumed despite the Inquisitors protestations meant being ground into Emprah-chow). The planet got exterminatus'd to get rid of the whole "rampaging sheepdaemon" issue, and they all lived happily ever after. Wait no Amal whored Loire out to his desperate fuckup colleague within a month of her being back. Quite the honor he says. Proof of how highly regarded she is. gently caress. That. rear end in a top hat. Schizotek fucked around with this message at 16:28 on Sep 10, 2016 |
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Sep 10, 2016 10:59
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 09:55 |
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Sorry guys, my terrible app killed the game.
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Sep 12, 2016 16:39
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