Chapter 1: Interrogation
The dungeons of the Inquisition had achieved universal infamy throughout the galaxy, hated and feared even by devout adherents to the imperial creed. It was in one such dungeon that Odirion found himself. His punishment would be death, the manner was somewhat of a mystery, while the Imperium of man had not made any notable advancement technologically or socially for literally thousands of years the inquisition always seemed to manage to find new ways to torture and kill. More then likely they would kill him, burn his flesh and put what remained on public display, if he was lucky, very lucky, they'd do it in that order.
Odirion's battle scarred blue and gold power armour had been removed quite brutally, and there were large scars and areas of puckered flesh where portions of his armour that had been embedded in his flesh had been torn out. Odirion shivered, in spite of the hellish heat that flooded through the chamber. The fallen sorcerer of the Thousand Sons now looked pitifully into the warp, seeking solace in the eternal river of the immaterium, which was not bound by the walls of this inquisitorial fortress. His mind flew freely across the stars, he was pleased to see that his comrades were grieving for him, they knew he was a prisoner, consequently, they knew he was lost. Damn right, he thought, if I'm going to be dragged through hell by some inquisitor's lackeys someone had better notice.
So engaged was he in his meditation that Odirion barely noticed when two of his captors entered the room. Odirion looked up at the two figures. One was a woman, a high-ranking member of the Adeptus Sororitas judging by an assortment of medals and purity seals adorning her shining silver breastplate which was moulded to fit her beautifully curved form. She had a strange air of youth and innocence about her; granted, it certainly wasn't expressed by her face, which scowled disdainfully at the heretic sorcerer. Probably something Odirion had sensed in her mind, odd, he thought, most inquisitors have seen things terrible enough to turn a man's blood to ice.
The other figure was a hulking silver clad space marine, carrying a massive sword radiating with psychic energy. Odirion involuntarily swallowed anxiously. The two figures waited for the longest time, letting premonitions of his impending doom flood through the heretic's mind. At last, the woman spoke "Odirion of the Thousand Sons"
"I am he"
"You are a dead man."
"Not letting me off easy then?"
"That depends," a cold smile appeared on the woman's face, "if you are willing to cooperate."
Odirion shrugged and straightened himself, trying to salvage what remained of his dignity. "How can I be of service to our most esteemed corpse god."
The grey knight was upon Odirion like lightning. "How DARE you speak such blasphemy of our emperor scum!" he shouted between heavy blows.
The woman shot her companion a harsh glance and he withdrew, leaving Odirion battered and bleeding in several places "Now," she said, "what do you know about Ahriman."
Odirion shook his head; "I had the honour of serving in his cabal since before the Horace Heresy, what you want to know."
"Everything," she said flatly.
The Grey Knight was visibly startled, "Faust, I shall not stand for this heretic to speak his blasphemy within these halls."
Without looking at her companion the woman replied, "My faith is strong, Hablion, strong enough to endure whatever heresy this man may speak."
Hablion growled menacingly, "Why" is all he managed to say.
"You must know your enemy to defeat them Justicar, whatever this heretic may tell us is of value."
Odirion, who had kept silent until now spoke, "you have a good heart, Faust, if a little misguided." Faust's fists clenched almost involuntarily, "Very well then…
To make any sense I suppose I should start with the beginning. Much is known about Ahriman, but most is hearsay and myth. Many have seen his handiwork, the dreaded automaton ghost-warriors of our legion. Many worlds we have raided and many sons and daughters bearing the blessings of the gods we have taken into our number. I knew Ahriman since before that. So listen close ye deluded servants of the False Emperor of mankind for this is the Tale of Ahriman of the Thousand Sons, told by one who walked in his shadow.