Note: This is just the prologue, but later chapters will be longer.
Prologue
A magnificent orange-tinted glow loomed over the shadowed rooftops in the city of Syran as the bright sun sunk beneath the horizon. Most of the inhabitants were safely inside their homes, enjoying each others company and gathering around for their evening meal. Govenor Sevrax, however, was not very happy. He was stricken with fear and anxiety; his master was not pleased with him, he had failed to attain the object of which he sought. But not to worry, he thought, for he shall have it soon.
Sevrax continued to gaze dreamily over the balcony of his palace at the quiet suburban streets below with his right hand grasped tightly around the long jet black walking stick to which he was leaning against. The darkness slowly enveloped him. Soon he was starring out at a sea of inky blackness as the sun finally disappeared. The streetlights amongst the darkness reflected the starry night sky above.
Suddenly a loud tapping noise filled his ears and he quickly snapped out of his reverie. As he came to his senses he realised the tapping was coming from the desolate hall behind him. Turning on his heel he limped back into the large room, the walking stick sending a dull clank around the area as it clashed with the misty white marble flooring.
He made his way towards a light switch on the wall beside the large wooden door and gave it a slight flick, the room around him was quickly illuminated. The hall was an extremely large room with a great arched roof and large monastery-like windows at it's end. The walls themselves were covered in an assortment of portraits and statues depicting a number of his ancient relatives; in the corner of the room stood a large glass case containing numerous shining gold medals and pendants reflecting the vivid light.
Sevrax turned towards the heavy door with his free hand outstretched, but before he could reach the ornate silver handle, it was yanked open from the other side. Standing in the dark hallway outside the open door was a tall, broad shouldered man with his hands behind his back. Sevrax leapt back in surprise.
"Tyranus!" He cried, but soon his shocked face relaxed and a wide, evil grin crept across his face. "Well, do you have it?"
Tyranus stepped into the light of the room, illuminating his face. He was an old, grumpy looking man with thick black eyebrows and a large hooked nose. His sleek black hair was smoothed over the back of his neck, he was wearing a dark grey trench coat and flak armour matching the PDF.
"Yes, my lord," Tyranus said in a low growl, "it is currently being stored in your personal vault."
"And did you run into any trouble?" Sevrax asked quickly.
"I'm afraid so. We were attacked by a damn Inquisitor," Tyranus said, his lip curling at the thought. "He ambushed us just as we were about to acquire the item. I lost four of my best men, but we managed to escape."
"Did he follow you?" Sevrax asked at once, his eyes bulging, the familiar wave of fear washing over him.
"I don't think so, maybe I shou-" Tyranus began, but Sevrax suddenly burst out in maniacal laughter, the evil grin coming across his face once more.
"What does it matter anyway? Now that my Master has what he wants, some Inquisitor isn't going to stand in his way," Sevrax said triumphantly.
Meanwhile, a hulking grey shape was shifting through the empty black space towards the planet; the Imperial Cruiser, His Wrath, stopped in orbit above the planets surface, waiting for further orders. Flying beside it was a small Aquila lander, miniscule compared to the Cruiser. It flew directly towards the nearest landing bay. The small black ship was almost invisible against the blackness of space, save for the gold mark of the Inquisition displayed on it's wings.