Sword & Spoken Word
Astropath in the service of House Autumnhall
The galaxy of the 41st Millennium is ancient and full of oddities. On Hastoroth’s World, in the antispinward fringe of the Calixis Sector, near the Jericho Maw warpgate, a secretive cult of Techpriests tends an ancient machine the size of a city. From its maze of hissing tubes and dripping vats emerge a slow and steady stream of mute clones, raised to tend the endless stacks of Imperial Archives which cover the planet.
For millennia, the rows of stacks echoed with no sound but soft footfalls and the rustle of paper.
Then, one day, Lucien 427vx-d723-yrc12 opened his mouth, and spoke. There were several casualties, and ten thousand years of sewer grating designs were irretrievably lost.
Two months later, the Black Ship arrived.