Locum Ignotum Chapter 4

The tower shrank behind them, becoming vague and indistinct in the distance as they marched away. At its very top the great bulk of the Thunderchild hung in mid-air, impossibly resting over the great pit. There was something profoundly disturbing about that sight, of a great Capital ship just sitting there contentedly so everybody had quickly stopped looking at it.

Away from that strange apparition they marched, in full regalia and every portion of their armour gleaming. Captain Toran had joined them for this diplomatic envoy, refusing to be left behind this time. With them came Ganaar, seemingly bemused by the time the others spent preparing for this mission. His armour was grubby and worn, flecked with mud on the greaves and he seemed to like it that way.

There was one other who had joined the party, Honourable Ajax. The Contemptor Dreadnought was stomping along, his great mechanical feet raising dry dust with every step. His presence was hardly diplomatic but he had decided that he was coming and nobody had been willing to argue. Dreadnoughts were honoured veterans, prized for their wisdom and experience. Plus when a Dreadnought decided he wanted to go somewhere, nothing stopped them.

Bylan shook his head, wondering where they were going. In his hands he bore the Company Standard, the glorious banner of Third Company emblazoned with icons of victory and valour. It flapped slightly in the breeze but he compensated for it, his Transhuman strength easily overcoming its cumbersome weight.

All around them harvests ripened in the warm golden radiance that replaced a sun, endless fields of crops tubers and fruiting orchards. It was a pleasant agrarian scene, as might be seen painted on some rural chapel's walls. It seemed incongruous for eight gene-forged warriors and a Warmachine to be walking up this dusty track, yet here they were. Bylan glanced upwards, seeing the constant blue overhead, it was nearly perfect but if he squinted he could just make out the contours of the strange tunnel walls.

It covered everything and enclosed this environment in a flattened dome. He felt almost like some specimen in a Magos Biologis' laboritorium, unaware that cold, unsympathetic eyes were upon it. He found it reassuring that the rest of Third Company was up there, flying patrol in Thunderhawks. This diplomatic envoy was made with the best of intentions but they weren't foolish enough to go without backup. If this proved to be a trap then the full might of the Third would fall from above.

Bylan stepped closer to Arvael, who was looking chagrined. His beating at the hands of their host had knocked some of the eldritch air off him, he looked humbled and for the first time Bylan could believe that he was a lot younger than the Standard Bearer was. Bylan leaned in and said, "+Dont take it so hard, we've all suffered a beating once or twice. Why the first time I went into a true fight I lost two lungs+"

Arvael shook his head and said, "It's not that, it's our host that worries me. He's been here a long time, look at the age of his armour… I don't like the connotations."

Bylan glanced over and said, "+You think he's trapped here and can't leave?+"

Arvael replied, "I think we need more information before leaping to conclusions."

They looked over at Ganaar who was marching with a jaunty tune humming through his fanged lips. He was an odd sight, seemingly cocky and insolent and yet there was pain in him, a weariness that leaked through at times.

Suddenly Ajax burst into life and he said, "YOU… YOU ARE A SPACE WOLF."

Ganaar didn't seem put out by that and answered, "Only an idiot calls the VIth Legion that, I am of the Vlka Fenryka."

Ajax sounded annoyed as he rumbled, "THE SPACE WOLVES ARE ALL KNAVES AND BRAGGARTS AND WHEN YOU RETURN TO FENRIS YOU WILL TELL BJORN THAT HE STILL OWES ME A NEW ASSAULT CANNON AFTER TANHAM'S WORLD."

Ganaar's face fell grim and he said, "Trust me, if I ever get out of here the first place I'm going is somewhere with decent Mjod."

Arvael stepped up and asked, "Can you tell us what this place is?"

Ganaar's insolent visage returned as he said, "Ask three different people and you will get seven conflicting answers. All we can say for certain is that this place was made by somebody, long ago but it was deserted when we arrived."

Bylan asked, "+So how did you come to be here?+"

"Ah, for a Skald to do the tale proper justice, my words fall short" Ganaar sighed, "What can I say, Horus' treachery was tearing the galaxy apart. Our secret band was on a mission, it doesn't matter what, when we ran into something strange. We got pulled into the tunnels and found this place, deserted and empty. We've been here ever since."

Wrethan spoke up to say, "But that was ten thousand years ago!"

"Ja," Ganaar replied, "We missed all the good stuff, Horus' thread being cut, the War of the Beast, the madness of Vandire."

Wrethan sounded suspicious as he asked, "If you've been here, how do you know about that?"

Ganaar replied with a grin, "You're not the first to come, every few decades a wreck gets pulled in by the tunnels. Broken, smashed ships, a good source of metal which is sorely lacking here but lucky to boast one or two survivors. They tell us such tales as to make us weep. The Imperium falling into superstition and ignorance and the worship of the Emperor. Mad fools, the Allfather would split their skulls for such talk, were he able."

Wrethan fell oddly silent at that, the Chaplain being a devout Emperor worshipper himself, so Bylan pressed, "+So who sowed these crops?+"

Ganaar replied, "Descendants of our mortal crew, we had a few hundred survivors with us plus the occasional waif brought in by the wrecks. There are a dozen townships now, perhaps half a million people living here."

At that Ajax rumbled, "YOU HAVE SAT ON YOUR LAURELS AND SOWN CROPS FOR TEN MILLENNIA?"

"Not I," Ganaar snarled, "I never laid down my axe, unlike the rest. I climb the highest mountains, I hunt in the woods, I walk the tunnels and I keep my axe sharp."

From the other side Jediah commented, "That sounds dull."

Ganaar nodded and said, "Ja, completely boring. Some days I wish Orks would get in here so I could have somebody to fight."

Bylan was stunned by all this and said, "+You've really been here for ten thousand years?!+"

"Time passes strangely here," Ganaar said with a distant air, "You walk in the tunnels and find years have passed in the towns. You spend a decade in the mountains and return to find mere days have passed. For us, it has been centuries, but only centuries."

Ajax rumbled, "YOU NEVER TRIED TO GET OUT?"

Ganaar scowled and said, "Everyday, every accursed day I try."

Bylan interjected, "+Well you're not us, trust Captain Toran, he will find a way+"

Ganaar fell silent and shook his head as if in disbelief but Bylan was confident that they would find a way out of here. Captain Toran had a knack of finding solutions to impossible problems, he would think of something, Bylan was sure of it. As they walked a smudge appeared on the horizon which slowly resolved into a rude town. It was small, perhaps big enough for a few thousand people. It was made of wooden buildings and had no stockade. Yet in the middle of it arose a strange menhir of black stone, with the same glyphs from the docking towers.

Arvael looked upon it and said, "There's power flowing through that, it's a relay or amplifier, projecting energy onwards."

Ganaar nodded and said, "Ja, that's what the others tell me. This is the home of Baruch and here we are."

Soon the group entered the town, passing between buildings barely as big as Ajax. They found themselves the centre of attention of various folk, stopping to stare at them. There was no fear in their eyes though, no wariness, they seemed merely curious and unconcerned by any threat of violence. There was a sharp contrast between the shining armour of the Astartes and the rustic quality of the town and Bylan thought that they stuck out like a sore thumb.

As they walked Ganaar said to Captain Toran, "Be warned, Baruch is a harsh soul, prone to irrational violence. You need to approach him right or there will be blood on the snow. Do not draw your weapons but approach him with your arms held out at your sides, palms open and facing him, like this."

Toran nodded as they approached the centre of the town. Ahead of them they saw a square, right at the base of the Menhir, where a gathering was taking place. Many people were waiting for them but standing head and shoulders over them were four Astartes, standing in woven robes, not armour. Bylan blinked as he saw that not one of them was a Space Wolf, each one being subtly different. One was pale and angular, one scarred and missing an eye and one hauntingly beautiful, the leader of the group however was utterly unique. He was giant, even in plain robes he was bigger than Furion in his plate. He was broad and heavily muscled and had skin so black it seemed to be carved from coal while his eyes glowed a dull red. His mass was immense, every inch of him seeming to fill the space and his expression would have struck terror into the hearts of mortals.

The party stopped hesitantly and then Ganaar said, "Baruch, I bring guests to your hearth."

Toran stepped forward, hands held out as Ganaar had shown him and said, "Hail, I am Captain Toran, in the name of…"

Suddenly Baruch smiled widely and leapt forward, grabbing Toran's waist in a great bear hug. The giant lifted him up off the ground and shouted, "Welcome, welcome! I am so happy to see you my new friends!"

Toran looked absolutely mortified as he was shaken back and forth in a crushing embrace and he shouted, "aaAAArgh!"

Baruch however merely gripped him tighter, red eyes twinkling in mirth as he proclaimed, "I have only good feelings for you!"

"Put me down, put me down!" Toran yelled, trying to break free.

Bylan was stunned as he watched the display but noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ganaar was doubled over in laughter and he exclaimed, "+You knew he was going to do that+"

Ganaar gasped between guffaws, "It has been dull, I need to make my own amusements."

Finally Baruch dropped Toran who looked flabbergasted and the giant declared with a wide smile, "Be welcome one and all. Embrace our safe haven, a place of rest for the weary and a balm unto the soul."

Toran was too shocked to speak, breathing hard and practically bent double but Wrethan stepped up and said, "Greetings, may I present the Storm Heralds."

Baruch bowed low and said, "I am Baruch and these fine fellows are Maxivus, Leanyr and Samandriel. Of course you have met Ganaar, who still wears his armour after all this time."

Ganaar wiped a tear from his eye replied, "I told you, I will take it off when I am dead."

Bylan sensed an old argument there but Wrethan pressed on saying, "We thank you but we were hoping that you could show us the way out of here."

Baruch raised an eyebrow and looked at Ganaar saying, "You didn't tell them?"

Ganaar replied, "They didn't believe me."

"Ah," said Baruch, "Well perhaps I should make it plain… there is no way out. Once one is here there is no way to leave."

Jaws dropped and Wrethan cried, "But we have wars to get back to!"

"War, who needs war when there is nobody to fight," Baruch proclaimed, "Here you will find no battles, no perils to threaten our tranquillity. Here you will find only harmony and accord: good friends, good food and respite."

Wrethan seemed astounded as he said, "You can't mean…"

Baruch, spread his arms wide and announced with a great smile, "Welcome to paradise."

Shocked silence spread that pronouncement, everybody contemplating a future with no war or peril. A life with no challenges, no dangers and no enemies to lay waste. An eternity of peace, plenty and prosperity for all. Long seconds passed and then a voice arose, it was Jediah and he sounded aghast as he proclaimed, "I don't like it!"