Note location: Prufrock, especially the Shape of Blood; Achelliac; shrines to the Reckoning and Bausphomette Number available: Several Conditions to receive from Iskierka: None
Vopiscus Rufus Valerius is a man I should have known, and didn't. It is a testament the the Empire and the Crownbreaker Legion we never learned the names of the Suncrowned while they were alive.
That damned impressive secrecy may still cost us the whole war and the world with it.
The Suncrowned--the Dagger of the Imperium, the Witchhammers, etcetera, part of the secrecy and mystique is going by a thousand names (as I well-practice)--were the hidden hand of the Imperial cult. Where the visible hand--the Crownbreakers--punished devotion to Princes the Empire didn't want ascendant, the Suncrowned dealt silently with warlocks and Throneborn and anything else threatening the Imperial Peace.
Eyes beheaded them years before making his first overt move. We knew something had happened to them but never what. If a single one of them had broken his vows, we would have known about the Unearthed in time to prepare for them. If the world had believed him. The Suncrowned were rarely granted belief.
Atratus, the Prince of the Forlorn Hope, is a man I should know, and don't. He leads the Knights Pariah; he is a just man. He honors his dead--all of us--walking and burned and buried. He is worthy of the name Prince. But he is not my Prince; I do not know if there is room for a fourth in my heart.
I do know that the slavering jackal prowling the Spire isn't him. It wears his face and his magecraft--no magic touches him, for good or ill--and its Court fights harder the more of them die, but it isn't Atratus.
Atratus never wanted the Throne. To take it would have been to abandon us and complete our exile in truth as much as name.
TARGET | Prince of the Forlorn Hope - 1A
Number available: Several
Conditions to receive from Iskierka: None
Vopiscus Rufus Valerius is a man I should have known, and didn't. It is a testament the the Empire and the Crownbreaker Legion we never learned the names of the Suncrowned while they were alive.
That damned impressive secrecy may still cost us the whole war and the world with it.
The Suncrowned--the Dagger of the Imperium, the Witchhammers, etcetera, part of the secrecy and mystique is going by a thousand names (as I well-practice)--were the hidden hand of the Imperial cult. Where the visible hand--the Crownbreakers--punished devotion to Princes the Empire didn't want ascendant, the Suncrowned dealt silently with warlocks and Throneborn and anything else threatening the Imperial Peace.
Eyes beheaded them years before making his first overt move. We knew something had happened to them but never what. If a single one of them had broken his vows, we would have known about the Unearthed in time to prepare for them.
If the world had believed him. The Suncrowned were rarely granted belief.Atratus, the Prince of the Forlorn Hope, is a man I should know, and don't. He leads the Knights Pariah; he is a just man. He honors his dead--all of us--walking and burned and buried. He is worthy of the name Prince. But he is not my Prince; I do not know if there is room for a fourth in my heart.
I do know that the slavering jackal prowling the Spire isn't him. It wears his face and his magecraft--no magic touches him, for good or ill--and its Court fights harder the more of them die, but it isn't Atratus.
Atratus never wanted the Throne. To take it would have been to abandon us and complete our exile in truth as much as name.