First Ritual of Detestation: A light in endless darkness (Video/Voice)

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

[ This wasn't exactly the sort of mission he had imagined, when called back from the brink of madness and damnation by his brothers. No longer a superhuman, no longer even aware of where he was, he looks over the small communication device, and the simple clothes that have replaced his battle-plate, and activates the odd little cogitator. A huge, craggy face, pale and lightly freckled, stares out at the world with grey eyes that have seen far too much already ]


It would appear I am once again alone. Are there other Adeptus Astartes in this place, or have I gone beyond everything that I have known? If I have been captured, I would speak to my captor, and if I have been set adrift in the warp... I would know if there are other castaways. So, speak, and explain this strange situation to me.

Comments

[croibhristeoir]

I haven't seen much sign of any particular purpose, exactly. And the name doesn't sound familiar, I'm afraid.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

Unfortunate. Well, I am Garviel Loken. Do you happen to know the name of this place?

[croibhristeoir]

Call me Lancer. This is apparently a city called Prospero, somewhere in the United States. I'm not sure of any detailed location past that.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

Prospero... is a city? I thought it was the name of the Planet of Sorcerers.

Strange. I wonder if there is sorcery here. I hope not, I do not trust warp craft. [ what a surprise his persona is going to be.. ]

And where is the United States? What planet is this?

[croibhristeoir]

A..planet?

[This is one (1) confused Lancer. Who will just keep his mouth shut on magecraft, as he's giving the whole 'acting human' thing a shot.]

We're on Earth, last I checked. The country is itself centered between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

We're on... Terra? [ Garviel's voice goes utterly reverent. ] But... that is impossible. This looks like a paradise world! Terra has burned for thirty thousand years of war. I cannot believe a place like this could possibly be... the cradle of humanity. Not as clean as this.

[croibhristeoir]

...I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you lost me. What do you mean, thirty thousand years of war?

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

I mean what I said. The Terra I know has been devastated by the dark age of technology, and war after war which have boiled oceans, and blasted entire cities from the face of the world. I have read about it in the libraries aboard my ship, the Vengeful Spirit.

[croibhristeoir]

I've heard of no such thing taking place. When did this happen, exactly?

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

During the last thirty thousand years of the history of mankind, which started at some obscure point when ancient Roma ruled the known world. I do not know much of the details about our dating system, so much knowledge has been lost that we barely know when this count of years started.

[croibhristeoir]

...sounds like you're from unbelievably far in the future, if that's the case. Thirty thousand...that's a long time. [Even by the standards of a Servant.]

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

What.... year is it?

[croibhristeoir]

I don't know for certain. When last I was sure of the answer to that question, it was the winter of 1994.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

I wish I knew more colorful swearing to use at a time like this....

[ Garviel is quiet for a while. ] Shit.

[ And there goes his only swear. ]

[croibhristeoir]

...Is that a problem of some kind?

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

I am needed in my own time. The galaxy itself rests on the knife edge, for there is a civil war that threatens to destroy humanity.

[croibhristeoir]

My apologies, but I don't know how we got here in the first place. Much less how we could possibly return.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

I see. What is known about this place? Aside from the locale and the time, I mean. Do you have any idea of our purpose? I can only assume that anyone taking me here, and not imprisoning me has a need for warriors of some sort, as I am not much use at anything else.

[croibhristeoir]

I don't know about any real purpose, but I do know that things change rather drastically here around midnight.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

In what manner do things change?

[croibhristeoir]

The environment...changes after midnight, somehow. Colors distort, the people temporarily turn to standing coffins, and everything just seems generally wrong somehow.

And that's not mentioning the black creatures that seem to come out at that time.

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

That sounds like a warp rift all right. Except for the coffin bit. Well, it is fortunate that I have fought and slain warp-spawn before... perhaps that's why I was brought here, if there was indeed some logic behind my presence here.

[croibhristeoir]

You're using terms I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with. Mind explaining just what you mean?

[greyerrant.livejournal.com]

Certainly. The warp is... the place between spaces. Outside of human reality, more or less. Emotion is power there, and it is where all the dark old gods and evils from old night dwell.

[croibhristeoir]

...That's...quite the description.

[And slightly awkward for a demigod to hear.]

Between spaces, you mean like what could be between here and where each of us came from?