Sunday, 26 May 2013

Inq28: The Chronicles of Bastian Vandemar - Episode III

In which we conclude Vandemar's introductions with the outer circle of his operational unit. As before, links under the pictures lead to painting articles. Follow these links for Episodes one and two.

While my Inner Circle are the solid foundations that prop up The Firm there is more to my operational unit than my close colleagues. The operational unit requires skilled individuals to perform its role. However these people may not display the deeper talents or easy group cohesion that will grant them a place in the Inner Circle. It may be as simple as being a poor fit for the rest of the team. Some, I will confess, I deliberately hold at arm’s length. I feel I should start by introducing those who are close to being part of my closest colleagues.

Enforcer Callaghan
I do believe that what the Emperor takes with one hand he may return with the other. I mentioned the Affair of the Corvid Maze earlier in this chronicle. That unhappy affair cost me a long term ally in my poor Amenemhat but granted me a new cohort in the form of Enforcer Calleghan. The Corvid Maze was the name given to the tangle of slum dwellings and abandoned industry at the heart of the capital of Centuarii. New dwellings had been built on top of each other, covering alleyways and making them into tunnels. Hatches cut vertically through floors and ceilings and occasional collapses made the area a treacherous warren of tangled pathways, blind tunnels, festering squats and vicious gang strongpoints. I was tracking a known recidivist – Keiden the Reviled – on Centuarii and it was only when he disappeared into the Corvid Maze that I knew his intent. An estimated third of a million people dwelt within, cults germinated in such fertile soil would have roots that would be almost impossible to eradicate. Sadly, I know that many of my Ordos would have ordered the Maze to be levelled by orbital fire rather than take any chances. I, once more, let my weakness for seeing innocence within the most festering sinks of humanity get in the way. I would try to flush my quarry before he had a chance to seed heresy.

To aid me I was assigned a full regiment of enforcers. These would start a crime sweep from the eastern edge of the Corvid Maze while my band entered from the west and tried to capture Keiden as he fled ahead of the advancing enforcers. I had samples of Keiden’s blood from previous engagements and I had requested a tracking detail from amongst the enforcer regiment. Calleghan was the result. His faithful cyborg-mastiff – Atemis – was equipped with astonishing bio-spoor sensors and could follow the scent trace of a suspect across a hundred thousand crisscrossing trails. Calleghan loosed Artemis into the maze and we followed eagerly. Several skirmishes against the scum that claimed the various territories within rather announced our presence though. By the time we caught up with Keiden he was ready for us. The ambush was savage, the surprise, total. Not one of us escaped without grievous injury of some form. Through it all Calleghan was like a force of nature. This was his natural battleground, close quarters, righteousness and a shotgun his allies, criminal scum his opponents. What really sold me was that wherever possible throughout the operation he sought to take his foes alive to face the Emperor’s justice. That sort of tenacity and honest adherence to the law appealed to me greatly.

I’m still not sure whether or not I retained him to fill a tactical or emotional hole at Amenemhat’s passing. Regardless, I made him the offer to perform the Emperor’s work on a grander scale and he accepted. I think he felt that he had risen as far as he was able within the Magistratum and seeing the sort of villain that we pursue gave him hope for greater exploits. He is increasingly valuable and on the verge of being accepted into the Inner Circle. His hound is capable of tracking in a bewildering variety of environments and has been more than useful on countless occasions. Calleghan himself throws himself into the work with a glee and enthusiasm that is most gratifying. He works well with Herodotus in interrogation, the two forming a double act. One, the erudite, eloquent web of logic, the other playing to the stereotype of the callous, brutal enforcer. Truthfully though, he is of most use to me as a bridge between the Inquisition and the local Magistratum. He speaks their language and opens many doors of cooperation that they might try to conceal from me. As I say, a valuable man and well on his way to Inner Circle status.

And then there is Mung. Mung will never be a part of the Inner Circle I am afraid, although I am extremely fond of him. He simply lacks the cognitive functions to appreciate anything but the simplest concepts. Mung’s early life is very much an enigma. He certainly is not from one of the Ogryn homeworlds, he lacks any Imperial Guard markings or implants so could not have travelled offworld. I am inclined to believe that he was the child of serving Ogryns left behind when the regiment moved on. Who can tell? However he came to be, I found him on Enix Major. Enix is a cancerous lump of a world, run down and forgotten, hopeless and heartless. There really is no functioning government to speak of, a local lord serves as governor but he is little better than a mob boss. It is my intention one day to return to Enix and carry out a thorough purge of the so called leadership. Try to install some genuine Imperial order there. Regardless, I am sending myself on a tangent.

Mung was working as a bouncer in a low-sink dive that had become the focus of my investigations on Enix. I was following the trail of warp-polluted erotica that was being exported from Enix. The pages contained hidden details in the background of the images, sigils and circles of power for the conjuration and communication with daemons. Ritual incantations, symbols of the dark powers, you name it. Wenchang Mimir had tracked the supply lines back to an establishment called The Decadence Lounge. Mung was its fearsome guard dog, growling at those who entered and beating senseless any who contravened the fairly lax rules. During our reconnaissance I had tricked my way past Mung with the simplest of telepathic illusions. Touching his mind, I detected no genuine malice, he was a gentle, innocent soul who had been trained to look ferocious. The presence of a genuinely civilian Ogryn piqued my curiosity and when the time came to raid the Decadence Lounge I ensured that Mung was non-lethally neutralised.

After I had dealt with the cultist owners of the club – a tale for another time – I questioned Mung. He was adamant that we were the bad guys, that we had attacked a legitimate business, he’d seen papers that proved it. It turned out that his simple brain had been fooled into believing that this den of filth was a typical Imperial business, taxes paid, permissions granted and all above board. When I finally finished explaining his error, this huge creature crumpled. Mung wept for a day and a half, gasping for forgiveness between sobs. Have you ever seen an Ogryn cry? It torments the soul. I fully believe that without the brutal indoctrination of his own people he represents the true state of the Ogryn soul. Gentle innocence in a murderously powerful frame.

Eventually I had to concoct a means by which he could pay penance to the Emperor and earn his forgiveness. He had to serve me as faithfully and completely as he had his false masters. From that moment on – the sight of hope re-entering his eyes has stayed with me – he has served me utterly. He remembers his training to be ferocious well and makes an excellent intimidation tool. Combine that with his ability to haul a full-size multilaser – he calls it Princess – we liberated from a wrecked sentinel on Casterus and you have a formidable presence on the field of battle. Between investigations he spends most of his time either obsessively cleaning – he sees it as part of his penance – or listening to the dreadful Pound music that the club used to play all the time. He’ll never be Inner Circle material, but I wouldn’t be without the big guy these days.

Friar Dominic Augustine
Now we move into slightly more uncomfortable territory for me. I have mentioned before that I am a strict Amalathean and dislike and mistrust factionalism within the Imperium. Sadly, the Imperium is riven by factions far more divisive and powerful than those within my own order. I truly believe that the Imperium will never be saved until it is whole, one people, one purpose. This will never happen as long as potent factions such as the Ecclesiarchy continue to meddle with government. They should concern themselves purely with the promulgation of the Imperial faith and with the worship of His Divine Majesty, all other activities should be forbidden and curtailed. With this in mind it may be surprising to see a member of the Ecclesiarcy within my operational band, Friar Dominic Augustine.

Frankly, with my experience identifying heretics and deviants I know better than to shun the Ecclesiarchy. To shut them out would invite undue attention to my views on their practices. Instead, I prefer to play the role of the dutiful servant and hide my opinions under cover of acceptance. Indeed, Friar Augustine is not so bad. He is not so hidebound as many of his ilk and was a private in his world’s PDF before taking holy orders so has some of that practicality, he even keeps his issued chainsword as a keepsake. He was little more than a scribe in his abbey and jumped at the chance to serve the Emperor as part of my band. He rarely sees combat unless we are facing foes who are vulnerable to faith. Instead, I use him much as I do Calleghan to be a bridge between my band and the Ecclesiarchy. Having an ambassador of the cloth opens doors for me and prevents irksome suspicion.

Enginseer Hephaistos
Then we come to the Mechanicum. I fear I will have to redact these comments if I ever publish them for in the eyes of most of my peers I would be a heretic for my views. My job is to hunt deviant cults, including heretical Imperial cults. What, might I ask, is the most deviant of all of the Imperial cults? That of the Machine God. For Throne’s sake they even schism over whether or not the Emperor IS the Omnisiah. They are the ultimate expression of deviant worship. Why did we ever tolerate them? Nothing more than political expediency. It was easier to swallow their perversion – indeed I believe pretence – of worship than to challenge them and bring them to heel. Sadly though, I need enginseers to keep my machines and tech working. I have made it my policy only ever to recruit relatively junior ranks within the Mechanicum and to keep them at arm’s reach.

Hephaistos is the latest in a string of Mechanicum servants. He joined us shortly after Herodotus was elevated to Interrogator. He’s a tolerable example of their kind. Mercifully obsessed with the machines he serves and forever tinkering with that oversized gravitron rifle of his. He seemed enthusiastic to be our enginseer at first but – as always – he is starting to grow dissatisfied. You can’t blame them, they join an Inquisitor’s retinue, excited at the thought of making a substantive contribution and are reduced to mechanics and occasional translators. I fear Hephaistos will soon reach the point where boredom and dissatisfaction will overwhelm duty and he’ll make his excuses. It will be a shame, it is hard to look for the right combination of duty and lack of ambition in their kind.

Captain Aleksandr Pokryshkin
And finally we come to Captain Aleksandr Pokryshkin. He is the first member of the Operational band that I have not chosen personally. I gave Herodotus the task of choosing a new pilot when our previous incumbent – a woman called Graia who had been with me for half a decade – was killed by explosive decompression in a fire fight at low orbit. I wanted to test his judgement in assessing people. Frankly, I think he needs work in this area. There is no doubt that Pokryshkin is a superb pilot, I’ve seen him do things in bulk transporters that I would have blanched at the thought of in a void fighter. Unfortunately he is a terrible fit for the team. He is brash, blunt to the point of rudeness, boastful and has developed a rather dangerous – for him – obsession with Dolus Andraste that I foresee ending with blood. Only Bard can tolerate him for lengthy periods and that is only because he sees making up stories to outdo Pokryshkin’s as a source of endless entertainment. I only hope that whatever well hidden depths there are to his personality come to the surface before I am forced to dismiss him.

So we come to the end of our introductions. These are the people with me aboard the trader vessel Horizon Yearning as we enter Cetus. Whether they all leave with me will depend on the danger of this scrutiny. Time will tell…

Friday, 17 May 2013

Inq28: The Chronicles of Bastian Vandemar - Episode II

In which we meet the treasured inner circle of the Inquisitor. Read episode I here. Follow the links beneath the pictures for the painting articles that accompany the models.

In common with almost all of my colleagues, I maintain an organisation of hired followers, informants and various professionals; it is referred to as The Firm amongst my followers. Within this organisation exists an operations team which follows me from case to case. Furthermore, within this operational team there are people who are beyond followers, beyond employees. They are comrades in arms. Some are even friends. This may seem cold to be surprised that some have become my friends, but Inquisitors are lonely by calling and nature. Our work and necessary suspicion keeps people at arm’s reach. I tend to refer to this small group as my Inner Circle. They are confidants, sounding boards and trusted right arms in combat. They are essential. In order to prevent arguments I will introduce them in the order that they joined my service.

Dolus Andraste
Dolus Andraste has been with me since before I earned my rosette. She had been in the service of my master for three years when he took me on. No-one but my master knows what she did before she joined his service but her skill with a blade is terrifying to behold and she possesses a fierce, single-minded devotion. Over the course of my training we formed an excellent team. I discovered and encouraged a talent for acting and impersonation and encouraged her to develop it. Before long her ability to mimic others became uncanny. Realising that her talents would never be fully utilised under Inquisitor Valens, Andraste requested permission to be released to my service. Valens agreed and she has been under my supervision ever since.

Today she serves as an infiltration and assassination specialist. Frequently she spends months in the field in deep cover to gather the initial evidence required to begin my investigation. She can be anything from the lowest gang fighter to a noble lady with nothing more than a costume and a few minutes listening to the local accent. To protect her identity she wears a mask or full helm wherever possible. Prevents problems of recognition spoiling a covert investigation. In combat she is a demon with the blade and a shield given to her by Valens as a leaving present. She also rides outrider for us when we travel, her keen eyes detecting potential problems long before they happen. If she has a problem, then it is her devotion. This may seem strange to complain about but in all the decades she has served me, she has never once questioned an order or request. She has never hesitated to carry out any command I might issue. I genuinely believe she would take her own life if I asked it. This means that I cannot rely on her to check my actions, to spot a problem in my own methods. She seems genuinely to be an amoral creature, her morality defined by whom she serves. Mercifully, as long as I remain a moral servant of the Emperor. So shall she.

Wenchang Mimir
 Next to join my Inner Circle was a man cruelly used by the Imperium that I adore and serve. I found Wenchang Mimir working as a lowly scribe within the administratum of Darsalom. It was during one of my master’s investigations. By this point I was a senior Interrogator and was on the verge of receiving my rosette. I had been tasked with the job of following one heretical family tree wherever its branches lay. Immediately upon starting my quest I was struck by the astonishing precision, ease of use and efficiency of the record keeping. Intrigued, and frankly in need of diversion while the data sniffers did their work, I enquired and was told that some three hundred years previously a young, devoted scribe had presented to his masters a proposed brand new system architecture to reform and improve the archaic systems in place. He had worked on it for years on his own time. His masters were delighted, awarded him a medal for exemplary service and charged him with implementing the system planet-wide. Thus did he spend the next seventy years of his life. Single handily implementing the fruits of his organisational genius.

Finally, old and tired beyond all endurance he was once more approached by his masters. They wished to reward him and extend his lifespan. As a loyal servant he agreed, unaware of the horror that was to befall him. Hundreds of bionic modifications replaced all organic components but his mind and his face. Cogitator arrays supplemented his memory and allowed him to make computations far beyond his previous capacity. Then they implanted him in a socket. Gave him a terminal and ignored him once more. For two hundred years he has maintained the system architecture having never received or asked for any reward. I decided that it was time that this dedicated servant saw more of the world than a scrivener’s cell and drafted him into my service. I had my master’s techpriest fit him with legs and brought him into my confidence and service. Since then he has been invaluable. His ability to sort and sift data, craft magnificent database architecture and follow trails of information whosesoever it leads has been central to breaking dozens of my cases and I dare say he is even happy.

Wenchang does not join us “in the field” very often. His frame is not built for the rigours of combat and his disposition is not suited to the rage and fury of open warfare. When he does it is usually to get past a particularly tricky encryption system or to help us cripple an enemy’s system architecture. He has a malevolent glee for exploiting flaws left by lesser programmers. However such instances are rare and necessitate a tactical plan where some of my forces have to be left to defend him. Wenchang’s value is far and away the knowledge he can gift me. The irrefutable evidence trails. I consider him indispensable. Just as his former masters did. I only hope I can always act more honourably toward him.

Bard Nobel
Shortly after I was elevated to full Inquisitorial rank, I was despatched to oversee the purification operations in place on Hellmawe Tertius. There I met one Corporal Bard Nobel. Cpl Nobel just loves it when things explode. He trained as a bombardier in the Divine Emperor’s Imperial Guard and served well with a specialisation in setting and disarming set-piece explosives. Sadly for him he got caught up in a wave of puritanical fervour when a new commissar general took power over his regiment. Anyone associated with those under accusation of heresy were suspect and Cpl Nobel’s sergeant was tried and convicted of unsanctioned medalling with sacrosanct technologies and his entire unit were tarred with the same brush. 

Bard was fortunate that I was charged with reviewing and advising the new security and purity arrangements. Though it was one of the most frustrating assignments of my career I did manage to save some of the truly innocent. Some of my colleagues reading this will be sighing heavily at my weakness and naivety but I believe that true Imperial souls are far too valuable to sacrifice on the altar of conspicuous zeal. Wenchang Mimir’s data mining turned up several exemplary soldiers convicted and held for execution on no charge other than association. The only way I could save them without causing a major incident was to trump up charges of my own and have them transferred temporarily to an inquisitional holding facility. Bard and his kin endured weeks of incarceration amongst the true scum of the galaxy in the harshest possible regime while I worked to clear them of my own false charges. 

Once cleared I arranged for them to find appropriate employ within the warbands of fellow inquisitors, other imperial agencies and the like. Bard was one of the few who seemed to bear me no ill will for my part in his suffering and indeed had weathered the conditions better than most. I took him into my employ and granted him a place in my operational warband primarily to keep an eye on him. I was concerned that his time amongst the heretics might have damaged or corrupted him. I need not have been concerned. He served ably as a breaching and booby-trap removal specialist. His grim, graveyard humour has fitted in well with my core band and indeed his remembrances of conversations in Inquisitorial holding have proved very useful in identifying cult members or likely targets.

Herodotus Lothston
Finally, from the Inner Circle, we have Herodotus Lothston. Mr Lothston serves as my Interrogator and I am grooming him for eventual acceptance within the Ordos. I encountered Lothston during the Kvarium Alpha campaign against the Tau. I had noted a tendency for “progressive” movements to arise ahead of Tau campaigns and was determined to root out the corruption within the military so as to avoid tactical problems. While the Space Wolves battled in the cold depths of the sea, I was moving through the various regiments deployed there. Lothston was serving as a young lieutenant in the PDF and was assigned as my ADC through the campaign. He had been horribly wounded early on in the conflict, a rail rifle round had torn his arm off and he was awaiting the stump healing to be fitted with a bionic. His regiment – the Serpentis 35th– were an insufferably stuffy bunch and relied heavily on aristocratic officers. I had inwardly winced when General Maygyr assigned one of them too me. I was mercifully surprised. Here was a young man of dedication and drive, rapidly adjusting to a heinous injury with every wish to return to the fight as fast as possible.

I made some discrete enquiries and discovered that he was the second son of one of the most powerful mercantile families. He could have bought a senior commission but elected to earn it through merit and effort under a pseudonym (His real surname is Trakaris). Over the course of our time together on Kvarium, he demonstrated a knack for the kind of patient questioning and unravelling of lies that I believe to be the mark of a true interrogator. Anyone can sear flesh and break bones to extract information. It requires an artist to dissect a mind and sift loose the truth using speech alone. I saw extraordinary potential in the young officer, so at the conflicts end and with his surgeries complete. I offered him a chance to serve the Emperor beyond the narrow confines of his world. He has served as my interrogator for six years now and is gradually making progress. He still has too much of the stiff, courteous nobleman about him but those smooth edges are gradually being worn rough. I only wish he would lose the ridiculous wig. When he joined my team he took to wearing the formal magistrate’s robes that denote an agent of the Throne on his Serpentis. Mercifully he gradually realised that the robes were impractical and shed them until only the ceremonial headdress is left. He is only 31 for goodness sake. That thing makes him look ancient.

Truthfully, I think he has many years of effort ahead of him before he can become an Inquisitor but his work ethic is commendable. He is eager to learn everything. He spends time with all of my team, learning their crafts and fighting techniques. He carries Talon, a relic weapon of Naucratis, which once belonged to a close ally of mine. The sadly deceased Amenemhat had taken it upon himself to teach Lothston a faster, more brawling style of close combat than the fencing he had studied in his youth. The two became fast friends until the Affair of the Corvid Maze cost Amenemhat his life. The ambush that took his friend hardened Lothston and I honestly believe that I may have been aided more by the loss of Amenemhat than I would have been by his continued service. I do miss his ready smile and feral glee for the fray though.

So there you have it. The small group who make up my trusted advisors, confidents and student. All that remains is to mention the rest of the operational warband to prevent confusion later on and we can start to record the actual events of the Cetus Scrutiny.

The introduction to the warband will conclude in Episode III.

Friday, 10 May 2013

Inq28: The Chronicles of Bastian Vandemar - Episode I

Greetings bunker dwellers! Carrying on with the Inq28 excitement I've started writing the back story for my merry warband. Before long, I realised that what I really wanted was to pull an Abnett and write all of the back stories from the first-person perspective of Inquisitor Vandemar. So here I present episode I of the Chronicles of Bastian Vandemar where we meet our (well my) titular hero and see some of what makes him the man he is today. I'm keeping these to roughly a thousand words an episode so hopefully they shouldn't be too heavy a read! I'm also illustrating the stories with pictures of the models that represent the characters. Would love to know what people think so without any further ado, here we go:

My name is Inquisitor Bastian Sergeiovich Vandemar of the Ordos Hereticus. As I write this I am transferring my seal and oversight from Hydraphur and am moving into the Cetus subsector to aid in the Inquisitorial Scrutiny of that region. Until now I have not been concerned with making any chronological written record of my investigations and examinations. However, as I enter my 93rd year – though I look no older than my late forties – I find more and more that I mistrust the once inviolate fortress of my memory. Thus I begin this chronicle.

Some background perhaps. I do not recall the planet or even the sector of my birth. My earliest memory is of the crushing blankness of the Black Ships. I had been identified as a telepath long before I could walk. To my fortune I was appraised as of sufficient power to be considered for more interesting service than to be burned out as a member of the psychic choir of the astronomicon or worse, to be sacrificed to the Golden Throne. I was not powerful enough for the Adeptus Astra Telepathica so I was spared the soul binding and a congenital allergy to artificial gonadatrophic growth hormone made me unsuitable for being selected as an Astartes Librarian despite my desirable age. Instead I found myself on the path to being sanctioned and of use to the Imperial Guard. As such I was inducted into a secure facility of the Scholasta Progenum and trained to hone my body as well as my mind. I never took well to the military life. Too wilful. Too curious. I was ever under sanction and in fact labouring beneath almost constant threat of expulsion.

It was then, as I entered my seventeenth year, that Inquisitor Valens came to the institute. He was seeking young graduate soldiers to join his extensive organisation before a crusade against the Demiurg. While there he heard the masters tearing strips off me once again and turned a bored mind toward me. Valens was a potent psychic talent, still far outstripping my abilities and my adolescent brain presented no challenge whatsoever to his mind. He saw me completely, every strength, every weakness, my whole potential. Clearly he liked what he saw as he requested I be added to the levy. Truly, I think my masters were glad to be rid of me. I served first as his batman and scribe and rose to the level of interrogator under his tutelage. I laugh now to think of what he must think of his student today. Valens is a straight arrow monodominant Ordo Xenos, an ancient bear of a man in wheezing tarnished power armour that contains the life support that keeps him going. He knows, passionately, the truth of the Imperium and its manifest destiny in the galaxy. The alien has no place in his Imperium – or anywhere bordering it for that matter – and he has dedicated his life to studying, tracking and dispatching the Xenos filth.

I earned my rosette comparatively early, a mere stripling at 43. Valens had always despaired of my subtler style of Inquisition but acknowledged that it had its place. Just nowhere near him! Fortunately, I knew where my talents lay. We had been cult hunting for the decade leading up to my advancement. Mostly misguided admirers of the devil breed Eldar raiders that plagued the area but two genuine genestealer cults. I saw these as far, far more dangerous than any xenos race. I recognise that mankind owns the stars and has a right to whatever world we wish to take but frankly, half of the foes we challenged had next to no interest in humanity and we had no interest in their worlds. I prioritise immediate threats to the glorious Imperium of mankind and see heretical cults and splinter organisations as being the cancer that eats at the heart of His blessed majesties greatest work. I elected to join the Ordo Hereticus and spend my career there. My master grumbled and sneered but eventually congratulated me and immediately departed on a fifty year crusade against the Hrud. As far as I know, he is still there.

I mentioned a subtler style of Inquisition. I am what most would call an Amalathean. I value the stability and surety of the Emperor’s plan as we understand it and will destroy anything that threatens that stability. We despise factionalism – the terrible irony that we are a faction ourselves is not lost – and seek to maintain the Imperium as it is. We are not so arrogant as to assume that we know better than the Emperor the direction humanity should take. For my part I take this seriously. I will not ride roughshod over local authorities. I request, I do not demand. I inform of my actions and include them where possible. I do not go in for flashy ornamentation or lavish standards of living. My appearance is crafted to be the popular image of the Inquisitor. Having said all of this I do recognise the need for caution and stealth. My first few weeks in a new situation will normally be covert as my followers work up the intelligence needed to assess the situation. Only when I am certain of my position and ready to act will I approach local law enforcement and request their aid in my work. If they are part of my work, only then do I disturb the Arbites.

Other Inquisitors will roll their eyes at this. We have the authority to command the highest echelons of society, why I bother with the ordinary constabulary is a source of mystery to them. Indeed, my master would come upon a world like a hurricane. I watched him almost paralyse whole cities as he seconded huge numbers of personelle to his mission. The results were always fast but the fallout often caused more misery than the heresy we were there to eliminate. He was effective but rarely engendered enthusiastic co-operation. I can argue my case and methods but frankly they are my own and it is how I prefer to operate and I care little for the opinions of my bolder peers. I do have one hangover from my mentor, a fondness for a fairly large permanent support organisation. Before we dive into the affairs of the Cetus Scrutiny I feel I should introduce at least the inner circle as they will be constantly referenced...
There we leave it for the time being, next time, I will start to introduce the warband that supports the Inquisitor, starting with his treasured inner circle of friends and advisers. You can read about painting and converting Vandemar over on Pirate Viking Painting. Hope all this prose is of interest to people other than me! Until next time...