. It is the 41st millennium

for a hundred centuries... The false God of mankind has sat, rotting in

his own filth, atop a golden lavatory. The blind call him the master of mankind, we call him the

imperator of idiots. And it is by the will of the chaos Gods do the peoples of mankind live, for now.

The truth is that the emperor is already half dead! and a thousand witches are needlessly

slaughtered each day to some arcane throw back to the dark age of technology ; the so called

golden throne.

Across the the realm of man, battlefleets traverse the immaterium, guided by the phantasmagoric

light of the astronomicon, a deceptive beacon-like symbol that the weak willed and hopeless cling

to as evidence of their absent father; the so called emperor of mankind.

Mankinds only hope lies with the chaos marines, who first saw the truth of the emperors lies, It

lies with abhumans ; the next step in mankinds evolution, it lies with the dissenters of orthodoxy

whom the blind call heretics, and mankinds future lies with the powers and denizens of the warp

for whom nothing is impossible...

Prologue ;

District immoral eight

His foot steps beat the cobbled sediment stone with increasingly laboured force. Mani tumgyz was

slowing down.

“just,60 metres...58,56...almost there” he gasped.

He knew he couldn’t keep up this speedy flight from his pursuer for much longer. If he could just

reach the OUT-HOUSE INN!

“ 48,47- cough-cough 44-metres to go !”

“Tumgyz !!! g’back’ere you grox-scite i’m gonna tear you a new crappa hole !”

Tumgyz chanced a glance over his shoulder. All he could see through the near toxic smog was a dark

shadow rapidly coming closer.

“29, 28 ,27 oupfh !”

Tumgyz tripped but instinctively twisted in mid air to land right-shoulder side on to the ground trying

desperately to negate the full force of the fall .

“cough-cough warp damn this fog!”

Tumgyz tried to stand but felt dizzy. He reached for his head and felt a wetness-

“blood? I didn’t land that hard did I ?”

“TUMGYZ!! I SEE YOU, YOU FEEVING WHORE-SON !”

A pallid, bald be-muscled brute, materialised out of the fog, he was literally foaming at the mouth.

Now Mai-Tumgyz was close enough to make out the black knife tattoo on right shoulder and tan

waist coat adorning his pursuers rippling chest; this was the tale-tale ‘uniform’ of one of

Sodom-Hive’s two most feared paramilitary gangs; The Black knifes.

The black-knives foot soldier was also brandishing in his right hand the signature weapon of a Black

knifer, a twelve inch serrated blackened long knife. The black-knife foot soldier was no more than

five metres a way from Mai-tumgyz now . To his eyes mai-tumgyz looked like easy prey, no more

than a skinny youth wrapped up in grey overalls who stole from the wrong people. He approached

Tumgyz slowy savouring the moment before he would make this latest kill. This shouldn’t take long,

the black knife foot soldier thought.

“Tumgyz, i’m gonna give you two choices; give back whats not yours and i’ll Gut ya fast, don’t give

back whats not yours and i’ll gut ya slowly and i’ll still get back whats mine! Understand?!”

...Mai-tumgyz tilted his head to his left straining to see through the smog filled ocre-red sky as if

considering the foot soldiers ‘offer.’ In fact He first decided against a sardonic response. (pointing

out the black knifes eccentric syntax would only anger the man , then he’d really be in trouble!)

secondly, Tumgyz decided to listen to the way the ambient sound was ricocheting off of the

nearby smog blackened tenement blocks. Tumgyz was also guest-ta-mating the pitch and volume

needed for sound to reach the OUTHOUSE-INN from his position. Tumgyz inhaled and hoped that

this would be one of those times his near-preternatural skill at oration would be of benefit.

“Black knife I name you sclavus and fol !”

Mai-tumgyz whispered almost spat the words at the bemused looking blacknife footsoldier. The

foot soldier suddenly staggered back as if he’d been slapped, this sediment stone is bloody chippey,

the soldier thought to himself. A brief smile on Tumgyz’s face faded as he saw The soldier wafting

real or imaginary whisps of smog away from his face and again affixing his now angry looking glare

on Tumgyz.

This momentary distraction, was all Tumgyz had to work with and Tumgyz started bellowing at the

top of his voice-

“BLACK KNIFE! BLACK KNIFER!! BLACK KNIFE FOOTSOLDIER !!! I DON’T CARE MUCH FOR YOU

MASTER BLACK KNIFER!

OR YOUR PRETENTIONS ON MY LIFE SIR!,

BUT IF YOU COULD SEE IT IN YOUR BLACK HEART SIR ,

TO RETURN TO ME AN ANSWER,

MOST POSTIVE THAT I will REMAIN ALIVE SIR,

NOT TOO LONG AFTER THIS ENCOUNTER,

THEN I SWEAR BY SAINT SEBASTER,

AND BY your HOLY THRONE OF TERROR

that I MIGHT return your treasure.

WHAT SAY YOU INFRONT OF MY,

PEOPLE OF THE D.I.E.

TO YOU AND I,

THATS; DISTRICT. IMMORAL. EIGHT hmm, what say you ?”

The black knife foot soldier was now only a few feet away from Tumgyz. He chuckled to himself.

“ you must’ve fecking hit your head on the ground harder than I thought ya gob-scite”

Tumgyz’s loud rant had brought a small crowd of people out onto the street. The pair were now

being surrounded by passers by including some drunks of the OUTHOUSE-INN three of whom had a

history with the Black knifes...

Tumgyz was stepping back now holding his hands up as if to surrender.

“master black knifer there are times when even i must admit that we can’t have it all and there are

some abstract things, like that sign over there-the OUTHOUSE-INN for example, that even I, nor

THE BLACK KNIFES CANNOT HAVE ...” the black knife foot soldier thought this odd but still pointed

in the direction of the OUTHOUSE-INN without taking his eyes off of Tumgyz

“ i can take that when ever i want Tumgyz”

you are a slave to your ego and now i have you fool,

Tumgyz thought and smiled outwardly to the black knifer while spinning to look at the three men

who in turn were closing in on the black knifer. The blood suddenly drained from the black knifer’s

face as his eyes meet those of the three rapidly sobering men. If only the black knifer had known

that the OUTHOUSE-INN was one of the favourite drinking dens of these three lower tier white

knives’, the black knives principle rivals. The rivalry between the two KNIFE paramilitary groups was

almost as old as Sodom Hive itself. The three white knives moved silently and slowly walked and

encircled the black knifer, unsheathing their trade mark white knives. The black knifer was an

experienced street fighter with the knife scars, bullet holes, and coliflower ears to prove it.

Outnumbered, He was too tired after his chase of mai-tumgyz to flee. No. He would take his

chances with these half drunk men. For good or ill this was where he would stand. Or die, Tumgyz

had hoped and half planned....Tumgyz backed off, slipping down a smog blackened side street to

savour his stolen prize. If only the white knives had abated their blood lust for a moment to see why

the Black knifer had blindly chased someone into white knife territory.

...The Administratum sanctioned, thrice blessed universal void pass, it’s golden silica coated border

glintining in the dull light of an over hanging gas street light rested in Tumgyz’ hands. He’d stolen the

pass from some Black knife major who considered it almost a holy relic. The pass was worth a million

times it’s weight in gold coin and granted it’s bearer unfetted passage via any chartist or naval

merchantmen to any planet in the emperium. The pass was supposedly over 900 years old. Tumgyz

would now defile this near holy relic. He dabbed the still wet blood on his forehead, he still couldn’t

tell where the blood was coming from. He painted in the bottom left hand corner an almost

imperseptably small SIGN OF KNHORNE! He looked up to the now scarlet sky and craned his head so

that he could hear the cacophonous sound of a Black/White knife street battle. It was beautifully

brutal; he could hear the ‘smack’ of a black-knife fist hitting a white-knife face. He savoured the

‘schlouch’ sound of a white-knife blade entering black-knife flesh... he waited and was rewarded

with the gurgling gasping sound as a white-knife blade (he prayed) must have entered a black-knife

throat. Mai Tumgyz left and made his way to the lower DISTRICT. IMMORAL. EIGHT.void port.

Historians would later say that the events in DISTRICT. IMMORAL. EIGHT. Was the spark that

started of one of the worst periods of intergang violence to ever hit sodom hive.

...Tumgyz brandished his universal pass like some talisman warding off the port securitas enforcers.

As he was about to board a civilian shuttle that would take him forever away from Sodom hive, the

hive that he was born in, he looked up to the now crimson sky imagining the black-knifers near de-

capitaion at the hands of the white-knives and whispered to himself;

‘blood for the blood God my first offering to my first God...may you not be my last’

The Puiblic motto of the schola; recognise the truth of the imperial creed, acknowledge

the power of the Imperator in all things, and His enlightenment bettering humanity..

The secret Didactica Magna/motto of the secret schola; recognising the lie of reality,

acknowledging the truth of the hidden gods and through their enlightenment bettering

humanity.

Chapter one: warp bound

A thrice sanctioned universal void pass may guarantee passage to the stars but it does not decide

the manner of ones passage.

Mai Tumgyz tried to rub the feeling back into his numbed legs and spine. Being wedged between

three, hundred gallon drums of chilled promethium wasn’t doing his back any good. It wasn’t

improving his mood either. The storage vault that Tumgyz had been assigned as his ‘quaters’, since

leaving scarus sector, was on a lower deck in a thermally cooled section of the merchant ship;

Good-Hope.

Tumgyz had spent the best part of four weeks cursing the cramped, near freezing conditions, and

counted the days until the ship reached its destination .

...Over the ships loud hailer system the captain of the Good-Hope spoke to the crew.

“Is this thing on?..oh, to the passengers and crew of the Good-Hope, ahem, This is captain Boutros

Blythe the 67th , my navigator informs me that we will be translating back into real space, emperor

wiling, in 48 hours hence. Terran time approximate. If you haven’t already taken the opportunity to

steal a look out of the lower deck view ports, then for thrones sake don’t try to now! This is the last

time that I will remind you all not to! And that anything untoward experienced is on your head! My

tech adepts inform me that the mechanisms and machine spirits will be ‘appeased’, eventually. So,

until such time avoid the view ports on deck three forward section. And be watchful of any yawning

void gates in deck three aft section...and any coolant viens in deck three mid section. That is all.”

...the Merchant vessel Good-hope was a civilian refitted, ex-navy cobra destroyer. now classed as a

light courier vessel. under her original navy designation as C.D.3366 she suffered a calamitous

event and was practically gutted. Renovated, and given over to the Blythe family as recompense for

a heroic action, the ship was almost totally demilitarised. Gone were her forward torpedo bays and

90% of her port and starboard ballista cannons. In their place were enlarged storage vaults.

Often pushed to her limit, the Good-hope was time and again expected to traverse, through the

warp, distances spanning entire sectors; always on the verge of exhausting her reserves of fuel and

consumables.

Unlike the normal hierarchical separation of the captains dining area and crew mess, onboard the

Good-Hope, there was a central mess hall where all the crew ate; better to control the eating habits

of the crew and make sure nobody wasted any food. The captain often ate with those of lesser

responsibility, and this afternoon was no exception.

“..Then, Tell me young man, master malthaite, how should my vessel be run?”

“forgive me, captain i mean’t no offence. I did not mean to over step my place. I was merely passing

comment on the longevity of this distinguished and seasoned vessel.” Still in grey overalls, Tumgyz

loathed being called malthaite, but the name was already inscribed on the universal pass. The silver

haired clean cut captain, dressed in his synth-silk azure blue waist coat, cream shirt, khaki

pantaloons and grox hide boots, had stopped eating.

“my ship may still have some damned rats in her-”

“- 13 years after her refit-”

“-thank you! mister Blewitt, my first mate does love so reminding me, but by the light of the

astromonicon we will make calixis!”

“with or without those deck-three view-port shutters closed” mr Blewitt mumbled.

The captain and his first mate were a double act providing Tumgyz with the only vague

entertainment throughout the entire voyage. The only other person on the round table with

Tumgyz, the captain and his first mate, was Ferrane the one-armed ships medic. Compared with

the bald, diminutive and wiry first mate, Ferrane was truly corpulent. Whereas Blewitts black one

piece ship uniform looked oversized, but well kept, Ferranes identical black one piece uniform

looked like it was about to burst at the seams. The collar of ferranes one-piece was always dappled

with unkown green stains. Ferrane wore a mane of shaggy black hair and his beard was similarly

shaggy black, to the extent that it almost looked like part of his uniform. Ferrane lost his left arm

whilst he was in the imperial Guard and was currently using his remaining right arm to attack a

knobbly brown ration bar on a plasticard plate with a two pronged fork.

“i have you now!”

Ferrane exclaimed as he hefted the ration bar whole into his mouth.

Tumgyz didn’t like watching Ferrane eat, it reminded him of seeing a mega-rat rooting around the

ancient detritus mountains back in Sodom Hive.

Ferrane stopped momentarily masticating his food to have a look into the far corner of the mess

hall. “...I see her royal snooty-noseness hasn’t deemed to speak to anyone today”

ferrane said food still dripping from his mouth.

Past the other tables of black uniformed mostly men sat a solitary woman. Above her, a flickering

lantern, her only companion, cast strange shadows below her table. The sight of Her flame coloured

ringlets, blood red lips and ashen skin captivated and intrigued Tumgyz

how could somebody so corpse white still be breathing? Tumgyz thought.

“for Shame, master malthaite, go over there and offer young mistress lilli some grogg-amasec .

atleast remind her that the mess hall is for eating and not brooding.” Captain Blythe chided.

“perhaps a little amasec, or a ration biscuit might put some colour back into her cheeks. But i doubt it.”

mr Blewitt remarked.

“clearly mistress lilli is found of her own company, and i would not want to intrude on one so lost in thought”

Said Tumgyz. And besides, Tumgyz was looking forward to a more ‘private’ meeting later on.

“tell me, ferrane medic, how are your patients doing?”

“oh, they seem to be suffering from a little warp fever Mr Malthaite. A day or so away from those

deck-three viewports should fix them right up....”

...A few hours later mani tumgyz made his way silently past dozing crewmen sentries on deck two,

and crept down a winding emergency staircase. Tumgyz had searched almost the entire ship from

stem to stern looking for Lilli, everywhere that is, except for deck three...he saw her gazing out

through a view port, out across the miasma of the warp. The clashing radiance of the warp threw an

indescribable incandesce on to her face. Lilli was being bathed in the raw light of the warp....

....Meanwhile, in the ships infirmary.....

The Good-Hopes pastor, lying strapped down to an infirmary gurney, fights for his life.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!! It burns Emperor help me!! My stomach !! i can’t take it !!!for Thrones sake

Ferrane give me something for the pain, morphia ! i beg you give me morphia AAARRGGHH !!!”

“i’m sorry my friend, you know we’re rationing it, and you’ve already enough morphia in your veins

to knock out an alpha-Grox, i really can’t explain it.”

“PPLLEEAASSEE! it hurts!” the pastor screamed, sweat glistening on his forehead, his greying brown

hair slicking to his scalp. A single round yellowing lantern above the pastors gurney provided the

only light that ferrane was working with.

“BBUURRPP! pphhuurrt” the pastor started uncontrollably breaking-wind and belching .

The medic Ferrane looked at an antiquated monitoring device hooked up to the pastor.

“my friend you must try to calm yourself. You’ll wake the other patients”

On the monitoring devices screen, it’s green, red, and gently undulating blue lines suddenly became

erratic peaks.

“pastor, listen to me, it is important you try to remain calm” said Ferrane, vainly trying to hold the

pastors head from knocking back on to the gurney.

“AAArrrgghhh!!! - I see...I see him he has- Blurrrgh ” the pastor projectile vomited into the air. The

pastor stoped squirming and lay prone, staring blank eyed straight up. His face was deathly pale.

“... I see him, atop a pile of filth...he is not divine! AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!”

the pastor started convulsing and frothing about the mouth. Ferrane stayed silent and just kept

starring at the monitoring device. The pastor suddenly stopped, sighed, then closed his eyes, breath

not stirring from his body. The monitoring device ferrane was starring at now showed two perfectly

horizontal green and red lines.

Then, emerging out of a darkened corner like some deathly reaper come to harvest, captain Blythe

put a hand on Ferranes shoulder.

“he has given up the ghost Ferrane ?”

“captain! I didn’t see you back there”

“well, is he dead ?”.

“ ... ‘fraid so sir”

“Are you certain? what of that blue line on that device of yours?” the captain pointed toward the

screen that registered only the blue line barely rising and falling.

“oh, that line measures no more than brain activity in the ‘medulla oblongata’, er-the part of the body that

doesn’t require him to be alive to operate. I assure you that body can no longer hold a soul...”

ferrane said coldly.

“Then put his body out of it’s misery, deliver unto him the Emperors mercy”

Ferrane turned back to a dusty grey cabinet, opened a draw and started rummaging around. When

he turned back to the prone body of the pastor he held in his hand an odd looking contraption that

looked like a cross between an ice pick and a revolver. Ferrane held the contraption at the crown of

the pastors head and pulled the trigger. The spike at the end of the contraption shot out of it’s barrel

with a psst-stoom! sound and impacted on the pastors head with a dull schloocth sounding thud.

Little streaks of blood and brain matter spurted out around the edges of the spike where it sealed

with the pastors skull. The spike was still imbedded in the pastors skull when Ferrane looked at the

still bobbing blue line of the monitoring device.

“oh, silly me, forgot for amoment where the medulla-oblongata was”

said Ferrane, half smirking at the captain. The captain stared back, stony faced. Ferrane tried to

prise the contraption’s spike from the pastors skull like he was removing a stubborn cork out of a

bottle of red wine. The spike finally left the pastors crown with a pop sprayng more jets of blood on

to the floor. Ferrane carefully placed the contraption on the gurney next to the pastor while he

turned the pastors head to face left. Ferrane again picked up the contraption and aimed it at the

nape of the pastors skull and pulled the trigger.... this time the blue undulating lines of the

monitoring device finally went flat...

“may your soul find it’s way to the emperor” said captain blythe “Ferrane, tell me, what sort of

illness kills a man like this?”

“well, at first i thought he was suffering from a little warp fever, but now -”

“ –I’ve never heard of a little warp fever killing a man like this before” cut in the captain.

“ The thing is, there are other crewman with similar symptons in the infirmary...” added ferrane.

ferrane starred at the captain with a worried look.

“ferrane, keep this to yourself, if any one asks to manner of the pastors death, say that he gave

himself too much morphia-”

“-but captain if others start dying the same way-”

“-then we will have proof-”

“proof sir ?”

“i suspect you know of what i fear, ferrane”

“..... plague , sir ?...”

“plague... Ferrane i want you to burn the body as discreetly as you can. If you cannot identify some

alternate cause of the pastors death by the time we reach port, i will have no choice but to declare

us to Port-Authority as Blight Risk-”

“-But captain, once port authority announces us unclean, they will quarantine us, i’ve heard tales

of entire ships crew being allowed to die while planetary governers sit on their arses-too afraid to

even send in apothecaries to find out one way another if a plague is on a ship.-”

“-you have less than twelve hours ferrane, till we translate back into real space, i will not disgrace

the good name of Blythe by brining some contagion to blight a world of the emperor .... 12 hours

ferrane”

...Meanwhile, back on deck three...

Tumgyz was close enough to Lilly to see that she was wearing a purple blouse and long black skirt.

He admired the curve of her lower back. Her flame coloured hair strangely complimented the

almost garish purple top. The corridor strip-lanterns on the ceiling that the pair were standing

under were all off. The only faint light was coming from the warp. The light made her blood red lips

so much brighter. Tumgyz was starring at lily’s chest, looking for the almost imperceptible rise and

fall that told a person was breathing. It did not rise nor fall as he expected instead it stayed level

and constant. Tumgyz thought this very strange. He was standing no more than four feet away from

lilly now, just out of the light of the warp.

“you really shouldn’t be starring out there you wouldn’t want something untoward to happen.”

Said Tumgyz.

“like what ?” answered lilly, her gaze never turning from the faint incandescence of the warp-light.

“i’m not sure, but the captain seems to think-”

“-have you ever seen anything as vivid before? ” cut in lily, still looking through the port hole.

“i’m sorry ?”

“the warp, have you ever seen anything as dazzling?” lilly pressed.

“no, but i’ve been told that if seen, but for an instant, a white sun can blind, for much longer it can

even combust soiled undergarments.” Tumgyz smiled lasciviously.

“you jest now, sir, but in truth i’ve never seen a sunrise let alone witnessed a sun in system,.”

Sniggered lilly, STILL staring through the porthole.

“ but you travel in a merchantman, surely you have at least seen a red dwarf, ah, we past a brown

dwarf just before we translated into the warp if memory serves.” Tumgyz moved around the edges

of the fall of the warp-light.

“i’m afraid I didn’t see the brown dwarf”

“Hm, that’s a bit odd if you don’t mind me saying” Tumgyz couldn’t quite place why this was feeling

so peculiar. Lilli finally broke her gaze from the warp for a moment to briefly look in Tumgyz’ direction.

“you see I come from a feudal world, where one side never sees our sun. On my home world we

believe it is a sin to witness our sun and a very bad portent to witness any star while in system.”

With her brief explanation over lilliy turned back to the warp. But the small clues were enough for

a mind like Tumgyz’s. Tumgyz’ mind was almost instantaneously rifling through hundreds of

possible planets and sifting through them with the brief detail lilliy had given him; Witling and cross

referencing, and deducing lilly’s homeworld with near preternatural accuracy. Tumgyz finally

announced his success

“the people of Strigoi , if memory serves me, have an odd custom, of burying a bottle of amasec

with their dead, and if a criminal has been particularily nasty they execute him and bury him or her

at a cross road.” Tumgyz flashed a knowing grin at lilly. Lilliy slowly turned her gaze from the warp-

light that had so captivated her and turnend to stare at Tumgyz. Tumgyz was at once filled with an

indescribable sense of dread. He for the first time had a good look into her eyes. Never before had

he seen such dark irises. Her eyes were both so cold, so warm and yet so inviting. He felt as though

he could disappear into the nothingness of her eyes and surrender all that was his knowing that he

would be filled with utter joy. The Intensity of her eyes was enough to distract Tumgyz from Lilliys

red hair that, in the faint glow of the warp-light, was truly radiant.

Lilly finally spoke

“malthwaite, isn’t it?...my, What strange eyes You have, they seem to be of a different colour to

each other... You do seem to be quite knowledgeable about my homeworld, few people are even

aware of it’s existence, where did you learn of it ?”

Tumgyz was immediately filled with the most intense feeling of pleasure that he had ever

experienced in his entire life. It was pure bliss. He could think of almost nothing but wanting lilly.

“....i was taught it at a Schola, Madame lily”

“it must have been an extraordinary Schola master maltwaite”

“the Schola that I attended was quite exclusive, it only tutored those of an aptitude and potential

that was above and beyond the very best. only one child of every generation was apprenticed to a

master...”

“How mysterious, tell me more...”

In his very first year of attending the ‘schola’ he was taught how to erect psycho-resistant anti-

interrogation mind mazes and methods had been imbedded within his subconscious to give false

positives when being hypno-probed. This in theory, was supposed to provide him with an ability to

resist very potent interrogators of a standard that even those servants of the holy ordos could

muster. Tumgyz was something of a prodigy even amongst his peers at the ‘schola’ but still his

various levels of mental barriers were being broken apart like they weren’t even there.

‘...the schola was very exclusive, you didn’t pick the ‘schola’ the ‘schola’ picked you. The schola had

many names, shadow names; EATOG CIN academy , institute de CO.T.I.A.N.E to name a few. You

were taught all sorts of Common Lore, Scholastic Lore, even Forbidden Lore. If you failed to surpass

the head mistresses expectations on a regular basis you were...’

Tumgyz tried desperately to stay silent, but the words seemed to leave his mouth of their own

accord.

‘-you wound up dead before the end of the day and every trace of your existence was erased’

tumgyz was perspiring with the shock of divulging one of his biggest secrets.

‘and what happens to you if you graduate this schola?’ lilly asked coyly

Tumgyz was screaming internally to stay silent, desperately, madly trying to will his mouth shut but

to no avail. He tried to will his legs to work so he might at least run away but they would not move.

“yyyooouou graduate knowing that the skills that have been learnt at the ‘schola’ will help you to

intsert yourself within the upper echelons of imperial society, to if need be, surplant legitamite

members of ruling councils; members of the administratum. Imperial guard if need be, all in aid of

destroying the established order to bring down imperial society to please the ppaatttrroonnss...”

Tumgyz suspected strongly that he must be being bewitched. In his mind’s eye he scrolled through

almost every counter-acting spell and incantation, pictured every warding rune he could think of to

ward of pyskers and psychic attacks, but to no avail; what was lilly?!

“Tell me malthwaite, who were these patrons?”

Tumgyz tried one last time and put all his faith in his true masters, his true patrons and he hoped

they were listening

“I name them; khorne! Tzeench!! Slannesh!!! Nurgle!!!!

As if in reponse Tumgyz felt an unbelievable surge of adrenalin, the light of warp up until then,

falling almost meekly, now shone an almost blinding light bathing both Tumgyz and lilly. Both

Tumgyz and lilliy had to shield their eyes from the warp-light. Tumgyz felt transformed by the light

and no longer thought of only desiring lilly, he now thought of only desiring himself and the pure

pleasure of how magnificent mai Tumgyz was. Tumgyz looked over at lilly but the warp-lights

intensity had transformed her too. Where once before there was a young eye-catching woman.

There now stood a grotesque cadaver-like whispy haired crone with fangs where there once were

teeth. Tumgyz was horrified and barley noticed that he was able to back away. Lilly spoke as

though her words were being scratched out on a chalk board

“ i know the powers of Darkness and Chaos Maltwaite, as they know my kind. At first i thought

there was just one of you, but now i know there are two!...” lilly started moving towards an

increasingly alarmed Tumgyz, who saw that lillys fingers now had six inch talon-like nails curling out

of her finger tips.

Tumgyz started hearing faint scratching, as if something was skittering around across the deck

plating. Lilly heard it too and looked down into the gloom of an adjoining corridor. Tumgyz heard a

dialogue of squeaking, then a trio of squeaking turned into a mini chorus. The scratching sound

intensified becoming a shower noise. Then an avalanche. The they appeared. Row after row, after

row of rats. Red eyed, grey haired, mangy rats. The rats were coming close enough now for Tumgyz

to see their yellowing teeth.

Tumgyz suddenly heard a click and looked over to Lilly. In her hands was held a .45silver clad

revolver. Tumgyz didn’t see lilly produce the weapon and wondered where it came from. Lilly

pointed the gun at the mounting horde and pulled the trigger. Tumgyz was amazed at the speed her

digits moved at operating the weapon. Her fingers were a blur depressing both the hammer and

trigger. The quick fire click-bang, click-bang sound echoed off the bulkheads of the corridor. Lilly

was ripping and blowing bits of rat aprt with each bullet. Lilly replaced spent cartridges with fresh

bullets so fast with such a blur of speed, Tumgyz wondered if she also had the power to speed up

time!

Dozens upon dozens of rats lay in pieces, blood dripping from the deck plating, pink mini intestines

and other bits of organs sloshing around the floor but still hundreds of the rats came on, they

seemed to be drawn to lily. Lilly was finally distracted enough for tumgyz to flee and he ran for the

nearest emergency staircase and didn’t look back. As he ran up emergency stair-case B, Tumgyz

could still hear the faint click-bang click-bang sound of lillys gun echoing off the bulk heads...

“... to the passengers and crew of the Good-hope. This is captain blyth the the 67th speaking. Until

further notice any nonessential fraternising is banned, I am confining all non essential crew to

quarters, this ship is operating under lockdown protocols until further notice that is all...”

Tumgyz was back on deck two and still trying to get his breath back after his escape dash from lilly

when first mate blewitt apperead just around the corner.

“mr malwtaite ? shouldn’t you be back in your quarters by now?”

Tumgyz’ head was spinning, either from the bizarre encounter with lilly, or the forced flight from lilly

he couldn’t be sure. Tumgyz willed his body to slow down. He plucked from his memory a deep

breathing catechism that he’d learn’t from the Schola. He had just started to apply the technique

when he heard the tell-tale regimented staccato beat of steel soled boot on deck plating. Tumgyz

had commited to memory the distinctive way all the senior crewman walked, Each distinctive gait,

each exaggerated stride. The way concern often made a person increase ones’ pace, or worry

decreased ones stride. Tumgyz could even make out a lowering of the tone of one’s usual walk,

indicating if somebody was carrying something. Tumgyz’ ear was telling him that the ships first mate

Mr Blewitt was coming around the corner carrying something. Mr blewitt “sounded” like he was

distressed, no, concerned about something. But concerned about what?

Tumgyz’ insatiable curiosity and lust for knowledge made him take a chance. Tumgyz whispered to

the air;

“ i name you loquax”

As sure as night follows day, Mr blewitt rounded the corner, he was carrying a battered open top

plas-steel crate. As Blewitt saw Tumgyz he tried in vain to shield the crates contence from Tumgyz’

eyes.

“oh, good evening, or is it good moro now mister malthwaite? I know that The time of day looses

some meaning when your onboard ship, and some say time in general looses It’s meaning when

your in the warp but, even though, it IS quite early on in the morning, what are you still doing up,

eh, shouldn’t you be in your compartment by now, eh, didn’t you hear the captain over the loud

hailer system ?”

mr Blewitt had stopped in his tracks the look of guilt etched on his brow. Tumgyz took a few steps

closer to blewitt so that he was within peering distance of the open topped plas-steel crate.

“yes, i was just on my way to my compartment now, but i thought i might take a more circuitous

route. Me being a naturally curios person, and lover of knowledge and your vessel being simply

fascinating to me-”

Tumgyz peered into the plas-steel crate

“-and being curious I’m simply awestruck at thought of the sheer strength of character that one

must possess to tame, operate, and master a void vessel of this magnitude. For example, what

purpose does that box play in this ships running.”

“what, this ?”

Blewitt shoved the box in front of himself a little confused.

“without these uglies chewing on the power cables and logic engines the ship would run alot

smoothly I tell ya’. I found this rat brood dead though. Had to scoop up all their nasty little in’ards. I

shouldn’t really be telling you this, but, The fing is, the captain ordered me to do a bit of last minute

rat extermination, not that the GOOD-HOPE usually has a real rat problem mind you! But The

captain looked really worried when he gave me the order, i guess he doesn’t want local customs

authority slapping him with any undeclared-pests fine. we really couldn’t afford that. ”

“-you didn’t find those rats any where near deck three did you ?”

“how’d you guess that mr malwaite? I did so find them near an emergency stair well at the end of a

trail of blood leading away from deck three...”

“you have to somethimes wonder if that deck is cursed”

“-let’s hope not. well i hope i haven’t taken up too much of your time mr malwaite... I don’t know

what came over me telling you all the ships troubles and problems en’all”

“nonsense, you know what they say, a problem shared is a problem DEDNE”

“ ’beg yer pardon ?”

“-ended”

“eh, quite, good moro mr maltawaite”

with that, mr Blewitt briskly walked off.

As tumgyz strolled off toward the general direction of his compartment, he ruminated on the

conversation he had just had with Blewitt, and in particular the only truth he had spoken. Tumgyz

was indeed a lover of knowledge, practically any type of knowledge, being in a state of ignorance

gnawed at his mind. He hated not knowing . Tumgyz’ natural curiosity made him wonder about the

last minute rat extermination order given by the captain. It wasn’t unusual for a ship’s captain to

cull rats; but why wasn’t the task given to a lowly rating instead of being given to the ships second in

command ? was the task that important? And the confining of passengers to quarters was unusual

so close to the end of a ships voyage, were the two orders linked in some way? Tumgyz wondered;

he had to know for sure. Void vampyr be damned he needed to know the truth of it.

With most of the ships non essesential crew safely in quarters it wasn’t difficult to snake around

around the ship unnoticed. The captain was a person of habit and would often inspect vital areas of

the ship at the start of or at the end of each ships’ watch. It was less than 15 hours till the GOOD-

HOPES estimated translation back into realspace and tumgyz hadn’t slept for almost 24 hours but

the thrill of uncovering a new mystery drove him on. If the captain kept to habit then he would be in

the ships infirmary ‘bolstering’ the moral of his ill crewman..

...a few hours later Tumgyz came upon the doors of the infirmary and found the double pig iron

doors locked. Tumgyz though this unusal. In theory The lock on the doors could easily be picked

using nothing more than a bristle thin strip of metal or a particularly rigid toenail. He was about to

put the latter theory to the test when he heard muffled shouts coming from the doors. Tumgyz

pressed his ears to the seam the the cold rusting metal doors made, closed his eyes and listened...

‘...All dead ! men and woman who were loyal to me, who looked to me more like a father than a

captain, Throne! why didn’t the grim finger of death touch me!?’

‘-crewman Rossi makes 30 and counting captain. It’s definitely spreading to the rest of the crew

despite their confinement. Rossi, He died the same way all the rest did; spasms, massive intestinal

inflammation, foaming about the mouth and mad ramblings. Damed if i know what it is.’

‘-and you have tested the rations and the ships bowel-cyclers ?’

‘aye sire, the tests are negative’

“ I’ve sent Blewitt out to cull the rats, just to be sure, but I fear it may be too late”

‘well it was a forlorn hope anyway... the rest of the crew will eventually learn the truth of it sire.’

‘...ferrane, we’ve less than 12 hours till we translate back into realspace. I thought that culling the

rats would at least slow it down but that doesn’t seem to have happened...innocents must suffer so

that the imperium survives...’

‘ captain..?’

‘...An hour before we are due to pass the threshold of the warp gate back into realspace , i’ll

personally overload the plasma furnaces and cold-drives, I may not know how to nurse my ship fully

back to health, but i do know how to kill it. If the pastor were still alive i’d ask him to give the ships

living crew last rites. As it is, we must make peace with the emperor and prepare for death. i will not

contaminate a throne world with this blight- are you with me ferrane ?’

‘...i-i-i am with you my captain’

Well im bloody well not!

Thought Tumgyz,

A contagion, no a disease, more like a plague has blighted the ship and the honour-bound fool of a

captain would rather destroy the ship with all souls aboard than chance spreading it on some throne

world. The captain may be prepared for death but i’m not! The captain may have given up hope but I

have not!

The schola had infused within Tumgyz a lust for life’s mysteries that had not yet been satiated. If

the captain and medic could not find the cause of this malady, then Tumgyz would.

But where to begin?

Tumgyz’ schola had taught him many, many things. And from what little he could discern from

ferranes description, of the diseases symptons, he quickly narrowed down the possible pathogen to

three most likely culprits, of this he was sure. Odd that Ferrane seemed so bewildered? But perhaps

Ferrane was simply incompetent.

Yes, A life times worth of stitching battlefield sutures made Ferrane woefully underprepared for the

rigors of void faring-medicine...

Tumgyz needed to reduce the list of culprits from three to one. He decided to personally test all the

possible carriers of the disease; the rats, the food supplies and the latrine-cyclers. The thought

occurred to him that this would not only increase the likely hood himself of catching the disease,

but also increase the likely hood of running into lilly but if he did nothing he would be dead

anyway... the likely hood of him running into the haemovore would decrease if he took a more

circuitous route to choeck all the possible sources, but that would also quicken the time of the

captain dooming the ship..no pressure then...

Tumgyz had finished checking what little rations were left in the mess halls kitchen. On the way out

he happened upon a dead rat. It was little more than five hours till the appointed warp translation

time and he’d still to test the ships bowel-cycler latrines. The method Tumgyz was using to test the

rat and food source was primitive and not the most reliable. It involved exposing massive amounts

of a possible contagion source to a test subject and waiting for the result. Tumgyz stole an entire

ration pack meant to last a single person four days and persuaded a hungry crewman to gorge

himself, after all they were so close to the end of their voyage, Tumgyz wouldn’t betray the

crewman to the captain, it would be their little secret...tumgyz didn’t need to pursued one of the

ship’s Ratings to down several pints of highly watered down amasec-grogg laced with rat blood. He

made sure to sabotage the heating units of his respective test subjects quarters to speed the

progress of the any infection. On his out of the crewmans quarters, he diverted slightly to the ships

small armoury compartment and pocketed a small stub-pistol. If his Wyrd way with words could not

get him out of any compromising situations ( and his wyrd words did often fail him) then his stub

pistol would.

Tumgyz finally made his way to the ships bowel-recyclers. The ships cyclers were located on deck 4

just forward of the main plasma drive control compartment. The cyclers were basically a very large

distillery separating out solids on the bottom level viscous semi-liquids in the middle compartment

and pure liquids recycled in the top compartment. The doors separating the solid waste cycler

compartment was made from a solid looking metal door of unknown quality. Yet Tumgyz, no more

than a dozen metres away could still smell the cloying, rotting stench of bile, faeces and urine and

something else indescribable.

Tumgyz came across the door almost without fear of discovery, of all the places onboard the vessel,

this was least likely to attract attention or loiters. As Tumgyz was about to turn the locking wheel to

open the door when he noticed that it was already slightly ajar. Turning his head so that his ear was

facing the ever so slight opening, Tumgyz thought he heard a voice inside the compartment.

Muffled grunts? Shouting and arguments? Crunching and slashing sounds of a fight. But who?

Tumgyz chanced opening the Gap in the door a bit more.

Ferrane?! Was thrown back into a mound of grey/green sludge by something unseen. Ferranes only

remaining left arm was frantically searching for something where he landed, he was still searching in

the muck, when from above a thing, a wraith-like shadow, black spectre glided just above ferrane. It

was draped in lily’s billowing skirt and lily’s blouse. But it’s clothes were being blown aloft by an

unseen force and the spectre was wearing lillys human face.

At last ferrane found what he was looking for. He dredged from the greenish human detritus a very

corroded rod he frantically waved it back and forth like some ward, to no avail. Lilly slowly hovered

toward ferrane. Tumgyz swung the door open, both Ferrane and lilly stared back at Tumgyz.

‘please don’t stop on my account....’

Tumgyz’ keen mind tried to figure out how these two individuals happened across each other, what

scenario could possibly bring them together. And then his mind finally put the snippets of clues

together that he’d dismissed or overlooked; the encounter with lilly on deck three, and her words

“At first I thought there was just one of you,...”

-the captains failed attempt at stemming the spread of the mystery blight and ferranes absolute

bafflement at even positing a guess at a possible cause; it could mean only one thing...

...Tumgyz whispered under his breath into the air directed at the two figures and to no one

‘I demand of you treowth’

Tumgyz drew the stub-pistol from his trous pocket and cocked it, but pointed it’ shining black barrel

downward.

‘lilly if you attempt to bewitch you again, your prey ferrane will surely escape you and almost

certainly return with a small group of armed crewman and even your wyrd sight cannot bewitch

them all at once.’

Lilly still hovering, growled

‘ferrane, if you attempt to flee here, now, i will shoot you dead. I promise you both this, both of you

will divulge to me the truth. He or she whom i find untrustworthy will draw the ire of this weapon.’

Lilly was first to cut in

‘ he is an agent of the great corrupter and would see your flesh sicken and putrefy, he is the plague

bearer that blights this vessel.’ Lilly screeched

‘malthwaite look at it, she is a thing clothed in the flesh stolen from the innocent, it is a thing of

nightmares and fears to unfathomable to mention. That thing couldn’t speak the truth if the

emperor himself compelled it of her!’

Tumgyz held the pistol more firmly in his hands his index finger over the trigger, lightly touching it.

‘i said those I found untrustworthy would draw the ire of this gun, so ferrane I ask you again, put

your faith into the true master of your destiny, for whom all of mankind should pray to, for rightful

health and longevity, i beseech you ferrane, have faith.’

Ferrane slouched relaxed his bowels. Taking on an almost dejected posture. He inhaled deeplyand

coughed almost retching. Ferrane smelled the unrecycled waste of the ship allaround him. He

imagined that the ships waste recyclers were like the sphincter of some huge mechanical beast and

he was like some parasitic worm stuck in the digestive track of that same mechanical beast. Ferrane

smiled, he would no longer hide his faith.

‘......i first heard it’s gurgling , wheezing voice just after they told me the shrapnel wound caused

gangrene to take my arm, but i was not delirious, i also smelled it’s putrid breath as it spoke to me,

believe in me it said, and you will live, so i did, and i lived. later it spoke to me again and said it

would cure the infections in my other limbs if I worshipped him. And so i did, and proof is before

you now. All it asked was a small offering in return; allow a little sepsis here or a death from a cough

there... But once you start, you become addicted to the power of dispensing disease and curing, you

admire how so little a thing as a scratch can develope into a thing that transforms the living into the

dead.’

Lilly was hovering no more than a few feet away from Ferrane now, her talon-like fingers open but

ferrane continued his confession.

‘ -through those little acts, you experience a sliver of what it must be like for the divine’

Tumgyz brought his snub-pistol up to firing position

‘there! Malthwaite, Ferranes guilt is spoken from his own mouth’

lily screamed

‘ i need to be sure , Ferrane, what was the name of this divine?’

‘ ...he did not tell me his name maltwaite’

‘I believe I know his name and it is-

NURGLE’

At once geysers of green and brown mist shot up from the surrounding pills of waste, each

geyser disgorging scents of shit, bile, and other internal body stenches. The geysers engulfed lily. she

fell from the air spluttering, trailing wisps of putrescence. Tumgyz aimed the barrel of the gun at

lily’s head. She just had time to utter the words-

‘shot me and be damned’

before Tumgyz turned Lilly’s head into a bloody stump loosing off all the bullets in the guns

magazine. Lilly’s body fell limply.

‘ ...I was damned the moment I was born... quickly ferrane, stab the body through it’s heart!’

shouted Tumgyz .

Ferrane was close enough for lily’s brain matter and bone fragments to be sprayed all over one side

of his face. He looked almost orgasmic.

‘Ferrane, snap out of it man, drive something through it’s heart, quickly!’

‘B-but she’s dead’

lily’s prone form twitched , and then slowly sat up. Ferrane, shocked, took a step back but then

dived at the body aiming the rusty pole he held in his hand just under lily’s rib cage. He drove the

pole under the bodies ribcage, it went in surprisingly easily. The bodies hands clasped shut around

ferranes neck, the bodies neck stump spurting blood. Ferrane could feel his windpipe closing, with

the last of his strength he drove the rod deep up into the chest cavity of the body. the body fell back

lifeless ...

‘...ferrane my friend we have much to discuss...’

+++This is acting ship’s captain Petraeus ferrane of the merchantman Good Hope to navy vessel 100

klicks off port bough, please identify+++

+++this is the frigate merciless; battlefleet calixis, patrol squadron Josian Reach, heave to and

prepare for manifest inspection. What is your cargo and destination...and did you say acting

captain?+++

+++Frigate merciless, the late captain Boutros Blyth and his first mate were killed in an accident

during maintenance inspections of void gates on our Third deck. As the most senior officer on this

vessel I am now master of this vessel until an heir can be contacted and the warrant of trade

passed. Our cargo includes spices, grox hides, all fine and certified. Our destination is canopus and

only one passenger will be going ashore.+++

+++commiserations and welcome to josian reach calixis sector, Good Hope +++

...Tumgyz shared in prasing of Nurgle with ferrane, only two more crewman died, this time of

explainable causes. when he told ferrane of the captains plans to destroy the ship, both knew that

the captain and his loyal first mate had to go...ferrane had promised to allow Tumgyz to depart,

disease free thankful for telling him the true name of his saviour. Both decided not to divulge to any

other souls about their encounter with the haemovore, instead deciding to keep an eye looking

over their shoulders incase any more of Lilly’s wyrd kin came looking for Chaos worshippers.

Tumgyz toyed with the idea of killing ferrane, But decided against it, ferrane could always be useful

at the very least as a pawn or scapegoat . No, his journey exploring the Chaos Gods was just

beginning, and he didn’t need to be distracted. Tumgyz stepped foot on canopus a world of the false

emperor, ordered, cowed. This world didn’t know chaos...he would soon change that...

E.A.T.O.G. C.I.N academy secret corporal punishment for failing to corrupt one of the ecclesiarchy’s

Altered-boys

being thrown into a cage of four half starved mega rats. With nothing more than one inch

metal needle for defence.

Institute de C.O.T.I.A.N.E secrect corporal punishment for being caught by local magistratum

stealing.

Being locked in a room for 7 days with only three meals and no fluids. One of the meals will

have a poison in it that kills within one day the effects are immediately felt. A second of these

meals will have a poison in it that kills within three days. The third of these meals will

contain a cure that only cures the poison in the second meal, But is neutralised if ingested

with the first poison.

Secret G.O.N.I.T.A. school READING LIST

Veritas monarchia daemonum ; true hierarchy of deamons, with accompanying names.

Collected catechisms of lorgar versus 1:25 to 2:25 only.

Fashionista whims of fulgrim; collected illustrated prints 1-9 colour coded. Indexed red to

violet

Ork weird boy observances: an ordo xenos classified study.

The power of true names, musing by pysker Scholar Empyrean Blane.

Rambures guide to radical inquisitional philosophies.

Codex Hereticus

Psykana Occultis

Space Lanes of The Imperium and the Perils of the Galaxy

Fabius biles recorded annotations on astartes anatomies; pre-heresy.

League of black ship/ Adeptus Tele-pathica vessel sightings and methodology; by pysker

Scholar Empyrean blane.

Demagoguery for begininers; essential reading for first year students.

Chapter two; the dark city Mani tumgyz had ‘acquired’ much coinage from simple pick-pocketing around the void docks planet-side. Various crewman of innumerable merchant ships were often flush with money, eager to spend the sum total of a voyages stipend on cheap alcohol and cheap woman. Most void farers didn’t give a second thought to how they had managed to lose track of so much money in the shadowy amasec and ale houses in-between docking stations. Over time Tumgyz had managed to accumulate several hundred Gelts worth of gold coin. With this, he paid a down market tailor to make him an upmarket gaudy blue ensemble that simply screamed new money. Tumgyz then spent the next day loitering around the more fashionable quarters of Foonis Hive . One hour was spent listening to the news-cryer in fools-corner prattle on about the upper and ruling classes, or which noble house had surpassed that noble house and was now in ascendancy. Three hours were spent in the more fashionable art gallerias, he made a point to stop at the more romantic and sentimental art pieces noting the faces of the viewers he stood next to and attempting to Match faces and livery with information he gleaned from the news-cryer.

Tumgyz finnished his day looking for trendy coffee houses and restaurants. But foonis hive was far larger than Tumgyz had initially guessed. Looking up he saw that The hazy amber sky was heraldeding nights approach and Tumgyyz was about to give up for the day when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a stationary figure just standing in the middle of the street. At this distance he couldn’t quite tell if it was man or a woman, But staring harder he could just make out that the figure was wearing a purple tunic emblazoned with a yellow double headed bird of some sort set against two crisscrossing thunder bolts must be magistratum Tumgyz thought. Tumgyz changed his posture to give a vaguely foppish yet needy sense of himself and briskly walked toward the magistratum enforcer. Only a few paces away now, Tumgyz saw the figure wore, an almost shoulder length mane of shockingly blonde hair, covering smooth milky white skin and very high cheek bones. still this close Tumgyz couldn’t tell it’s sex. Tumgyz put on his best approximation of an upper class foonis hive noble accent and took a guess- ‘I say, I say my good man, do you happen to be a member of this hives most illustrious magistratum enforces by chance?’ The enforcer looked suspiciously s at Tumgyz ‘ye, wot ov it?’ Definitely male, and an simpleton too The male spoke as if he was just going through puberty, his voice constantly breaking. Tumgyz was almost bowing now- ‘Kind sir, I do find myself in a bit of a bind. You see, I seem to be at a loss at explicating myself to one of this hives masticatory establishments....’ ‘...aey..?’ ‘i’m lost and I’m looking for a place t’eat....’ ‘OH!, why didn’ cha say so, a fine eatery such as one looking like ya’ self is accustomed to can be found down Dat road, take a left on poots street, a right on saints avenue, and strait down saint saviours.’ The magistratum enforcer gave Tumgyz one final look ‘being as dressed so brightly as you are i’d stay away from dark alleyways.’ ‘oh, I can take care of myself if anyone tries to rob me’ ‘na, i mean you might get mistaken for a rent boy dressed like that.’ ‘ perish the thought...’ said Tumgyz with a misgevious grin. With that Tumgyz strolled off. Tumgyz looked through the windows of several high born restaurants until he found what he was looking for. Almost hidden away in the corner of Pierre Rouges sat a solitary diminutive figure wearing a neatly coiffured mane of auburn hair. Baron saxberger had visited one fo the gallerias Tumgyz was in only a few hours ago.

Pierre rouges exterior façade was typical of the neo-celebrante, post Melcher-El style that found

itself in vogue this year. The almost gaudy friezes framing the single large, 3 by 3 metre window

pane depicted a smiling figure who looked remarkably like saint Drussus himself in all his finery and

flowing garb seated triumphantly atop a mound of dead and dying xenos of comically indescribable

nature. Saint Drussus was admiring some morsel on a fork presumably about to stuff said morsel in

his mouth. The official message to any passer by was: the meals in this establishment are fit for a

saint. Tumgyz imagined a more subversive interpretation. Drussus was indeed about to eat the

morsel from the fork, but skewed on the fork was a piece of flesh from the xenos under his feet. The

subversive message was; if a saint could resort to a bit of eating taboo meat, what other illicit or

forbidden experiences awaited you inside! Perhaps this was why baron saxberger choose this

restaurant.

Tumgyz bribed the doorman with the last of his stolen coins and made sure to pick a table close to

the old baron. Tumgyz clicked his fingers into the air

‘…waiter, yes I’d like some cake-sticks and your cheapest bottle of amasec for starters please.’

The waiter looked at Tumgyz as if he’d just insulted him, half wondering if this pretty-boy was of age

or could afford even cheap amasec, but eventually walked off to get his order. Young Tumgyz then

spent the next half hour sipping his cheap amasec and suggestively groping, fondling, then

masticating his cake sticks one by one all in the general direction of the old baron. To any onlooker it

was bordering on the outrageous. Tumgyz wasn’t too sure if the old baron had noticed until the

waiter walked up to his table.

‘please excuse me, mr...?’

‘Fancy man, Cassanov Fancy man’

‘-of course. The honourable Baron Saxberger humbly requests that you join him in dining this

evening.’

‘…and if I refuse,’

The waiter smirked

‘ nobody refuses the baron…’

The old baron was wearing a lilac coloured tail coat, dark blue under shirt, dark coloured breeches

and a wide white cravat. The old barons greying moustache was toothbrush short, his hair was

suitably coiffured, a wildly young mix of whorls and curls that seemed almost out of place with his

rigid moustache . According to the news-crier the old baron was well over one hundred and fifty

years old but judging by his high cheek bones, the sheen of his youthful looking skin, and cherry red

puckered lips, the baron had clearly gone through numerous rejuvenant treatments. The man now

sat before Tumgyz looked like an athletic 40 year old.

‘m’lord I am-‘

‘-yes, yes, i know cassanov fancy man, please sit. The night is still young even though I may not be, to

make the most of it let me finnish my meal and we shall depart post-haste to my apartments for-’

‘-master saxberger you are quite forward, and mildly presumptuous, what sort of boy do you take

me for?’

‘-but I presumed from your attire and mannerisms that...ah, wait, you’re playing hard to get aren’t

you?’

Tumgyz tilted his head and pouted his lips bottom lip coquettishly

‘why, do you like it?’

‘... i love it’

In truth it was chance, or perhaps providence of some dark/pleasure seeking/lusting god that

directed tumgyz to the baron. Pierre rouges was in a district of the dark city that was frequented by

the rich and privileged. The barony title that Helmut, Nehithal , saxberger the 85th had inherited

almost a hundred years ago was an honorific. The saxberger family had made it’s fortune in

producing guard and P.D.F uniforms for the Emperors never ending armies on Canopus and many

other worlds in Josian reach.

Tumgyz awoke the falling morning feeling cool air on his naked body. he’d guessed that the smooth soft sheets

he was laying on were made of fine clothe possibly some synthetic or real satin. Tumgyz had never been in a

bed so large nor a bedroom so resplendent. The bedroom itself was big enough to house four Arvus lighters

and each of the four walls featured panel after panel of wood, real bonified wood. On the very soft sheets at

the bottom of the bed on a platter of polished metal; lay some sort of fruit. Before the schola stole him away

from his parents, when he was no more than eight or nine, and relying on his birth parents moderate means

for succour and aid, he’d dreamed of what real fruit might taste like or what real wood might feel like. If

submitting to the meaty desires of a randy centenarian mean’t living like this, then he could get used to it.

But no. Simple material gain was beneath him. The baron and his wealth were just a means to an end;

appeasing his true masters.

***

Tumgyz dressed and was wondering the large hallways of what he assumed were part of the

baron’s apartments. This inner sanctum of corridors was clad in the same wood as the bed room,

but here, elaborate images were carved on the skin of the wood, images of coupling and

figures engaged in sexual acts tumgyz thought were anatomically impossible. Tumgyz was

wondering at the intricate wood carvings when, from a shadowy corner a small, scratchy, yet

somehow familiar voice called out to him.

“ Errare humanum est: Perseverare diabolicum.-"

momentarily taken aback, tumgyz realised that the shadow was speaking the first half of the secret

Schola recognition phrase. This particular code-cipher was given to graduating students of Tumgyz’ year.

“-miasma is to host, as twine is to manikin, as white dwarf is to black hole”

replied Tumgyz. Seemingly satisfied with tumgyz’ response the shadow stepped into the light of an

overhanging lumin globe. The stranger was stooped and dressed in the garb of a man servant; black

trousers, grey shirt under a black waistcoat. Judging by the numerous wrinkles and the way the

manservant’s chalky-hue skin hung off his cheek Bones, Tumgyz guessed that he was in his late sixties or

early seventies; far too old to be a student at the schola.

Tumgyz circled the stranger like a predator deciding weather it’s prey was really as meek and vulnerable

as it appeared.

‘‘i demand of you treowth, you don’t look like any of the tutors at the schola. You’re far too short to be

master Blane, you don’t have that condescending look of Prasutagus, nor are you the right sex to be

mademoiselle Ebolina.’

‘ -But I recognise you, MANI TUMGYZ. I still remember those mismatched irises of yours, one blue the

other brown...you still messing about with those Wyrd words of yours, Weird boy?

‘...Bluds !? Jeordie Bluds?’

-‘it was lord Bluds to you then, and it’s still lord Bluds to you now! Weird boy ’

Jordan Wilhelmhaven Bluds, was unusal in that his parents gave him willingly to the Secret-Scholarum

instead of him being kidnapped like every other student. Bluds parents had somehow found out about

the heretical school through the Bluds family business, and bought their sons admittance with Generous

covert donations. While at the secret-schola Jordan Bluds had insisted on all his fellow pupils addressing

him by his formal title of lord Bluds.

‘But Bluds was my age’

‘-reverse juvenant treatments; dermal atrophying induction on the cellular level, partial organ necrolisis,

even had a couple of my major arteries narrowed...’

but many people at the schola knew Bluds liked calling Tumgyz weird boy.

‘-you could be a pysker, bewitching me.’

‘with the amount of techniques we were taught to resist surface reading and pysker manipulation, it’s

next to impossible’

‘ nothing is impossible, like me, the real Jeordie Bluds was taught that.’

‘never the less, whatever circumstance has brought you here you cannot stay. I have worked years to get

into this position and-’

‘ –you think me a threat to you?’

‘ you always had a habit of killing anyone who was caught up anywhere near your overly ambitious

schemes, Tumgyz, your poison . ’

‘Well, like Governess-Premier Chase used to say, to my fellow brothers and sister pupils ad quod

damnum a remedy, if one exists, ought to correspond specifically and only to the damage suffered

besides I’ve refined my modus operandi since the early days of the schola.’

‘ warp damn you! Tumgyz The plans I have in place are on a knife edge-’

‘-no doubt involving the baron?’

the old man, stunned silent, stared angrily at Tumgyz

‘ ...I take your silence as an admission that the Baron is intergral. it’s not surprising, Bluds and I were

taught to strike at and make our designs around unassuming fulcrums, nexuses within imperial society.

You’ve probably already guessed that the Baron is integral to my plans too. ’

Tumgyz laughed mockingly at the man claiming to be Bluds.

‘i’ve accomplished in one night what you have taken years to do, may I call you brother-pupil?’

‘you are no brother of mine Weird boy! I am your better. You think that one night spent in the Barons

bed has wormed you into his confidence ?! bah! i...’

The old man’s scowling lips suddenly broke into a smile as he remembered something from his not to

distant past.

‘...by the third tenet of the Magna-Didactica; Danteus knoe. i invovke the rite of seniority.

AND YOU WILL LEAVE THIS PLACE, MANI TUMGYZ OBEY ME !!’

...‘you, claim the rite of seniority?...you may look and smell half dead, but yes, I see now that you are the

same arrogant, presumptuous, spoiled unpleasant child i shared a room with three years ago. ...the rite

of seniority? You never cared about the true aims, traditions and beliefs of the schola. besides i don’t

think you ever declared your true age to your brother and sister pupils. You only ever cared about petty

corporeal social-advancement and gold coin...and..i ’

Tumgyz was beginning to realise that he could spend the rest of the morning batting insults and

accusations back and forth with jeordie bluds . Tumgyz decided to try a different tactic.

‘...Bluds, think for moment, I don’t believe it is chance that the two of us, here, now have met in these

circumstances.’

Bluds frowned.

‘jeordie, put whatever irrational anxieties you have aside, at least for a moment, and try to see the

hidden hands of the true gods at work.’ Tumgyz implored

‘oh, here we go, I forgot you were a true believer. There was no otherworldly hand in us meeting ’

‘then how do you explain two alumni, schooled an entire sector away, with all the thousands upon

thousands of imperial worlds and millions of hives in the galaxy to choose from, crossing paths at the

exact same time ?’

Bluds used one of his wizened hands to scratch his wrinkled chin

‘I admit, two schola trained alumni having the entire length and breath of the galaxy to roam, meeting in

a rustic hive, on a backwater planet off the main warp lanes is unlikely, but not impossible...From what i

learn’t about the schola just before we graduated, They had plans to seed the entire imperium with

schola trained alumni and even birth entire generations of schola trained bastards. why steal one child

when you can just create ten! Like I said unlikely but not impossible. ’

Tumgyz was becoming frustrated by now

‘I have tried to do you the courtesy of one trained in the ways of the schola but It’s clear that you aren’t

returning that courtesy...’

Tumgyz fixed his gaze onto the wizened form of Bluds, staring out with his mismatched eyes without

blinking taking in every detail of his onetime brother-pupil.

‘Bluds, correct me if i’m mistaken but your plan involving the Baron, does it entail some sort of usurping

of his titles and possessions?’

Tumgyz watched for the minuscule almost imperceptably small facial twitch underneath Bluds right eye

that told him a truth Bluds mouth wouldn’t dare verbalise.

‘-I see, do you intend to inslave him in someway?’

no facial twitch but a slight interruption of the usual rise and fall of Bluds breathing chest.

‘no ? ...do you intend to....steal his identity perhaps?’

Bluds mouth muscles involutarily drew his lips down for a mere fraction of a second, enough to give his

face the smallest semblance of a frown.

‘not steal his identity entirely...but something more extreme, a cloned throng?’

Bluds eyes darted back and forth not focusing on anything in particular

‘no not a cloned throng...a....a full gene transplant?! YES yes i see it now’

Bluds face took on a cherry complexion, rage replacing the previous neutral expression.

‘STOP READING MY MIND!! You contravene the twelfth tenet of Magna-Didactica ; Danteus knoe.’

‘ I thought you said it was next to impossible to surface read one trained by the secret-schola? Don’t

worry I haven’t suddenly developed the ability to read minds, well at least not through warpcraft.

Anthropomorphic reading, was a subject Cortigiana-Onesta lady Abaluna said I excelled at. You would

know this technique if you paid more attention in class, brother-pupil...you were always so predictable.

And as i remember didn’t score highly in many of your classes’

Tumgyz smirked

‘- then explain to me how I best you in every wrestling match we ever had weird boy!’

‘I don’t wish to start another argument brother, besides i best you at every other lesson we ever had-

the point, that i’ve arrived at is that we are at an impasse. The baron is vital to both our goals, and

neither of us will back down. Open conflict could result at the very least, one or both of our plans ending

in failure, or worse, our discovery by agents of the corpse God. so in the spirit of our old schola, I invoke

the fifth tenet Magna-Didactica ; Danteus knoe, I beseech you , let us collaborate and I have faith that

the outcome will be mutually beneficial. what say you ?’

jeordie Bluds looked like a volcano that was about to burst its top. But suddenly, as if some vent had let

the bubbling rage escape him, bluds exhaled, and gave half a smile to his onetime brother-pupil.

‘ I agree...but let me add a condition, you see my goals achieved first?’

‘and then the barons bodily remains will be mine to do as i wish ?’

‘yes’

‘then it is agreed.’

Tumgyz still couldn’t quite get the idea out of his mind that providence was somehow guiding his

actions.

TuMGYZ AND Bluds both knew the other would be thinking on the best time and opportunity to do the

other in. Waiting for a time that the others disappearance. The others death. The others murder would

draw the least suspicion from the local magistratum or even the arbites. Jeordie Bluds knew that Tumgyz

would prefer, if he had to killed, to be ritually sacrificed to the hidden gods ( such was the strength of

perverse dogma the tutors at the secrect-schola had driven into their students.)

None of this was of courses said aloud. Instead both Tumgyz and Bluds smiled at the other.

***

Over the next few days Bluds informed Tumgyz of his detailed plan to convince the Baron to go to a new

chirrugeon for one of his regular juvenant treatments. The new chirrugeon together with the soporifer

would be in reality two of Bluds highly paid servants. And that’s when the full gene transplant would take

place. Bluds told Tumgyz that he was honouring their agreement, That he had even convinced the Baron

to keep Cassanov Fancyman in the apartments for a few more days. Bluds had apparently extolled

Cassanov’s impressive knowledge on antiquities and modern gothic art.

And so the day came when the Baron was to make his regular appointment at his regular Chirrrugeons.

Until his loyal manservant had gotten wind of a terrible rumour that was heard from the town cryer in

Idiots Corner.

‘ milord, they say that Raphael, your chirrugeon, uses the stem cells of unconsecrated foetuses in his

juveanant treatments. If I may, The scandal of being associated with such a man, however unfounded the

rumours are, could be ruinous.’

Baron saxberger stared up into his man servants eyes through a mask of powered white makeup almost

pleading

‘ But I simply must have my treatments, I simply must.’

‘milord I could seek out an alternative chirrugeon with a truer reputation if you could wait but another

day?’

‘unacceptable, you will find me an alternative tonight, and be quick about it too’

‘ as you wish milord’

Bluds left the up-hive apartments of Baron saxberger and travelled on foot to the out of the way newly

leased premises in the barley street district just off

It was the place of the weak to provide succur for the strong, it was a universal truth that perhaps in his

life fleating seconds of life jeordie Bluds understood this.

ischievous deity that directed Tumgyz to The baron. Pierrerouges was in a district of the dark

‘

style as befitting a man toothbrush style moustache

Errare humanum est: Perseverare diabolicum.-"To err is human. To repeat error is of the Devil."

(Seneca)

A chaos worshippers progress: THE TALE OF MANI' TUMGYZ; part 1: a demagogue is born A distant bell rang eleven times, telling all that heard it was the eleventh hour of confession... Across the grey city thousands of heads bowed almost in unison quiet and private prayers being whispered... lying on a grubby mattress alone, in a dark dank room a young man thought to himself... ...To say that her visage was sublime would be to slight her. All that witnessed her approach would say that there was a certain bewitching quality to her beauty. It is said by many an admirer that the locks upon her head have the hue of freshly Fallen leaves; deepest ochre, and it is said that her mother has set a dowry for her hand of six hundred and sixty six thousand thrones, give or take a gelt. Ne'er was there a more chaste maiden deserving of the epithet Divine, than the Divine, Lady Livy. 666,000 thrones indeed! a princely sum, for none but a prince among men would truly be deserving of her hand. Livy is on the cusp of adulthood, barely tasting life's many pleasures and not quite taking advantage of opportunities her entrancing gaze should have given her... what better time would there be, to end her life! A church bell rang twelve times, telling all that heard it was the twelfth hour of confession. In soup kitchens all over the grey city, only the most pious stopped lunch long enough in between masticating reconstituted fungus-broth, to whisper silent prayers...... in his dark dank room, Mai Tum-gyz stood naked from the waist up, staring at his reflection in the cracked sliver of polished metal he was using to shave. The stiletto blade caressing his chin was as familiar to his hand as any weapon would be to a professional soldier. " should I end her life by laspistol ? no, too quick. chainsaw possibly ? hmm, too cumbersome and ungainly, I'd never be able to approach livy while her retainer-guards were on the look out , although the sight of her cleaved and eviscerated flesh painting some grey street scarlet would be an attractive sight !" Mai Tum-gyz giggled. "Hand flammer perhaps ? mmm, the pyro-kinetic game the promethium torrents would play across her pearly skin, incinerating every inch, oh what a delight ! but again, proximity would be a problem. how to get close witout detection? " Mai Tum-gyz's excited heart was beating fast, and he had to slow his breathing to steady his hand. "there's always the classic; knife in the gut aimed at a major artery, simple and straight forward, hmm, a bit too common these days though. what about poison ? it does have a certain historic almost romantic charm all of it's own, yes one can admire it's subtle qualities- "

KNOCK... KNOCK!KNOCK! Any normal man would flinch at so sudden a series of knocks whilst so deep in thought. But Mai Tum-gyz was no ordinary man. "mr Tum-giss ? mr Mai Tum-giss , are you n'der ?" The woman shrieked, Mai tum-gyz had already deduced long before Beryl the land lady spoke that it was her. In the time it had taken Beryl to knock thrice, Mai Tum-gyz's mind had noted the distinct staccato-like sound of beryls knuckles wrapping against the door and the 0.8 or was it 0.9 ? second delay between the first and second/third knocks. But any observant individual with average recall could place that tune; knock...knock knock. no, Mai tum-gyz' ear picked out, from the very first of three knocks, each individual phalange proximal bone of Beral's hand hitting the plasteel door, he noted the 0.05 second gap between each strike of fleshed bone upon plasteel, it was as uniquely identifiable a sound (mai Tumgyz' thought) to his ears as Beryls finger prints would be to any forensic augur. This, he deduced from the first knock, all 0.2 seconds of it... "Madame Beryl, did you not pick up my note?"

"what note? eh, op'n this door!"

"-the note directing your most esteemed corpulence to cash in a bond,

of Medichie-premium to be sure, worth the sum of this entire months

rent, with interest of course....

"..?"

A whole two seconds pause! no doubt the simpleton was mulling over the

veracity of my claim.

Mai Tumgyz thought.

The medichie were notorious money lenders who ran a parallel bailiff

business to compliment their primary one. while Medichie Bonds were

just as common as House- klynsmen bonds or the standard second party

affiliated Administratum-Bonds, it was said that no organisation or

rival house went to the lengths the medici would go to enforce the

reputation of their bonds. Debtors prisons and penal legions all over

the sub-sector were filled with those that tried to fake or renege on

medidcihe bonds. when the medichie baliffs couldn't arrest, they would

try to kill; on some worlds where the mediche money lending business

had a near monopoly, the medichie `convined' governers to make falsely

claiming to own a medichie bond a capital offence! Beryl weighed up

the possiblity of gianing a bond