#ostia haldus

[marcusmettalus]

When to Smile, How to Breathe, and Where to Love. (Part 1)

(Side Story featuring @rowscara 's Ostia and R'tan cause why not?) 

"R'tan, I'm fine. I have told you a thousand times now. These Midgårdians haven't tried to hurt me, if anything they are way too courteous towards me." 

Ostia sighed while giving the Nocturne native a soft pat on the arm, the Salamander Astartes had given the Scion a firm hug in public, something that in Imperial space would be most certainly frowned upon. And he didn't seem inclined to let go just yet though. 

It had been roughly a year since the duo had last physically seen one another, and some months since the last communication via the 'Net or Astropath relays. It took some coercing to allow R'tan even access on board the Rogue Trader vessel bound to Midgård space, and even further work to ensure his stay would be sanctioned by the kingdom. But it eventually seemed to simply solve itself with no further pushing from Dame Noémie or Ostia. 

"You left me a message after you had already boarded Lady Durand's vessel and on-route to this Sector. You left me a message before you traversed through a Warp Phenomena, and out of Imperial Space." R'tans eyes smoldering as he spoke, not relinquishing his grasp about the ashen-haired woman in his arms. 

The son of Nocturne had enough stress from his combat deployment, dealing with heretic Astartes or cults or whatever beastie crawls out from the darkness. Suddenly having sporadic messages from his partner, messages which indicated that Ostia was now traveling with a faction that was not integrated with the wider Imperium, and was traveling out of the already broken borders,, R'tan was anything but calm-n-collected. 

Ostia Haldus grumbled a little under her breath, trying to avoid the firm gaze from the Astartes as she was being reminded of the her actions. Though,, the dark green gauntlets seem to relax suddenly, holding onto Ostia's arms more delicately, giving the Scion pause. Turning her eyes back to R'tans face does she see the change of expression from one of scolding and frustration,, to one of relief and care. 

"But we're here now,, I was worried and high-strung, perhaps even a little over-eager and over reaching to get myself to you," R'tan chuckles dryly, a gauntlet reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, "yet that is now past. Though now I've more than likely angered my superiors and clan for this.." 

Ostia was somewhere between overjoyed and reluctant to be enjoying herself. She has had now over a year and a half without conflict, without constant stress, without having to deal with Imperial bureaucracy. And now that her partner is here,, she is torn wanting to share these days of relative comfort with R'tan alongside her, or to return with him back to the ongoing war in the Imperium,, and the backlash that could follow. 

"Ostia cheri, will you be introducing us to your petit ami?" Ostia jumps a little before remembering suddenly that she was on a walk with Noémie when R'tan had suddenly appeared down one of the many boulevards and rushed over to her. 

"Oh! Right uhm, yes so, this is Sergeant R'tan Esatar of The Salamanders Chapter. He is uhh,," 

“Your lover?~" Noémie smirks with steepled fingers while the rather demure Ostia stammers with flushed cheeks. 

(Will continue this more properly when Tumblr stops being a bugger and let me use the Hellsite. Sorry for the dust!)

[dead-philosophy]

I'm experimenting with a new rendering technique, so I thought I'd try drawing @rowscara's badass lass Ostia. Her signature swoopy hair was an absolute joy to draw.

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[vezimira]

KNIGHT FIGHT

this one took ages :'D featuring my chaos knight pilot Susurra and Ostia Haldus, who belongs to @rowscara

[how-about-you-rogal-dont]

I made some homebrew rules for the knights of Haldus

I didn't know how else to thank @rowscara for fielding monologues about my OCs in DMs, so I made some homebrew rules. Any knights of House Haldia have access to the following:

STRATAGEMS:

In The Name of Haldus (1CP): (Battle Tactic Stratagem) Use when selecting a HOUSE HALDUS KNIGHT model to fight with in the fight phase. Until the end of the phase, this model's attack are +1 to wound.

Brutality of Kalixus (2CP): (Epic Deed Stratagem) Use when any HOUSE HALDUS KNIGHT model in your army deals damage to an enemy TITANIC model in the fight phase. Deal an additional D3 mortal wounds to that model. Then resolve the fight phase as normal.

Imperial Authority (2CP): (Requisition Stratagem) Use this stratagem when you are mustering your army. If your WARLORD has the HOUSE HALDUS keyword, select one HOUSE HALDUS CHARACTER model in your army and give them one Relic (this must be a relic they can have). You can only use this stratagem once, unless you are playing a Strike Force battle (in which case you can use this stratagem twice), or an Onslaught battle (in which case you can use this stratagem three times).

RELICS:

Vulkan's Judgement Gifted to the knights of Haldia by the salamanders after a long co-deployment, Vulkan's Judgement is a massive macroflamer constructed using near-forgotten archeotechnic secrets. The formula used to power its fury is stronger than promethium, and burns for twice as long. HOUSE HALDUS model with an Acheron Flame Cannon only. This Relic replaces an Acheron Flame Cannon and has the following profile:

Weapon: Range Type S AP D Vulkan's Judgement 24'' Heavy 2D6 8 -3 3 This weapon automatically hits its target.

Fury of WARDEN Looted from a fallen foe on a long-forgotten carrion field, this archaic lightning claw has served Scion Ostia for many decades. On occasion, she has been known to lend it out to those lances she deems worthy of her aid. HOUSE HALDUS model with a Thunderstrike Gauntlet only. This weapon replaces a Thunderstrike Gauntlet and has the following Profile:

Weapon: Range Type S AP D Fury of WARDEN Melee Melee x2 -6 6 When attacking with this weapon, you must subtract one from the hit roll. If a VEHICLE or MONSTER is slain by this weapon, pick an enemy unit within 12'' of the bearer and roll a D6. On a 3+ that unit suffers D3 mortal wounds.

[marcusmettalus]

When to Smile, How to Breathe, and Where to Love. (Part 2)

(Continued from Here. Again, R'tan and Ostia belong to @rowscara)

-

"I hate her,,,"

"You've said this before Ostia. And no, you don't."

The gray haired Scion grumbles and scowls with her arms crossed over her chest, positively huffing with irritation. R'tan couldn't help but compare this puffed up woman with a puffed up kitten, an amused chuckle sneaking out as the mental image appears.

"She is insufferable,,"

"From my interactions with her, and the way she holds herself among her companions versus her peers, I believe she is quite competent and is a skilled diplomat." R'tan leans back in his seat, silently praising the craftsmen who could make an entirely wooden chair who could handle the weight of an Astartes.

The establishment the duo were taking refuge in was a manner of restaurant, the locale semi-filled with fellow chattering customers, clinking of cutlery and drink glasses while the kitchen emits savory scents and fresh cooked meals. In the background was only the numb rumbling of heavy rain and echoing thunder in the distance. Lady Noémie and Lieutenant Lukas had taken the couple here to get some peace from the paparazzi, and to get a more casual area to speak openly.

"Dame Noémie is a competent leader of her people aye, her Council Advisors bring wise words and opposing views to help shape the future of her growing worlds," Lukas spoke quietly, taking a sip from a steeped drink smelling of something spiced but faintly alcoholic ", yet Lady Ostia, you say you despise her?"

",,, not like that. She behaves so care-free around me, acting like there are no troubles or wars going on. Taking me round the city, purchasing clothes and meeting new faces,, I am not some fething Nobilis Diplomat!" Ostia glares at Lukas as her voice raises a little, R'tan reaches over to lightly place a hand over Ostia's shoulder, attempting to ease the volume.

"No, you are not. And that is exactly why she is treating you like this."

Ostia blinks briefly, caught off guard by the rather short and strange response. The previous mag-train of thought suddenly halted as Ostia tries to make sense of the answer.

"Were you an official Diplomat, like Herr Celtos, you would be treated not as a person but as an item or prisoner of war. Strict protocols of handling, communication, how much of our worlds and facilities are shown, limiting their access to various regions of their temporary abode, armed guards and the like. You would be treated fully, wholly as an Outlander, and not welcome." Lukas sets down his mug slowly while elaborating his spartan response, adding a small curl of spiced bark into the still steaming drink, stirring the burgundy beverage all the while he avoided Ostia's gaze. Those amber eyes a stark contrast to the dark oaken locks tied back in a tight braid, gazing down into his little task.

"Wait,, Ostia is not seen as an Imperial Agent? How was she allowed then to enter your Realm?" R'tan raising a brow, still trying to figure out the fellow Astartes across from him.

"Noémie simply listed Lady Ostia as her guest of the Realm. Ergo, Ostia is a guest of Karseille who is simply is tagging along while Noémie is attending her meeting with the High King." Lukas took a slow sip from the mug, breathing in the spiced fumes as if savoring a morning blossom freshly plucked from the meadow. Those cursed eyes that Ostia can't quite get over, despite everything, turned now to gaze at the Scion.

"The High King, who you will meet come dawn."

"Watch your tone whe-"

"Here we go everyone; one serving of stektfläsk o raggmunk med råröda lingön, one of Croque Madame with soft poached gåsägg, one half serving of poulet rôti, and one Nasigören'. Enjoy your meals~"

R'tan's retort getting cut off by the waitress arriving with a wide serving platter, setting down each meal before the respective seats, the wide set of colors and smells hitting all three persons. Whilst the waitress peeled away to take care of other customers, Noémie made her reappearance and took her seat by Lukas.

"Apologies, had to take a short call, but look at this divine assortment we have~ hope you have a good appetite." Noemie clapped her hands excitedly before digging into her meal. Ostia gives a short glance over to R'tan before looking down at her meal.

An actual hot meal. Not rations, not food made in a mess hall, nor wild greens scavenged from the field. Half of a roasted fowl with some manner of sauce, rough cut vegtables and greens along with,, what are these golden wedges? Picking one up with her fingers, Ostia bites into it,,, a brief crisp crunch and a pillowy interior greets her.

Its delicious.

And then dips the wedge into the sauce.

(Will try and see if can make a Part 3 for this mini-series, so long as its cool with Rowscara that is.)

(Characters involved; Lt. Lukas Tova, Grand Dame Noemie Durand, Lady Ostia Haldus, and Brother R'tan Esatar)

[marcusmettalus]

Where Land and Myth Tread.

Part 3

(Continued from here)

Ostia Haldus coughed violently as she staggered off the elevator platform, gripping with one hand onto a convenient guard railing as she tried to clear out her lungs. The other elevator passengers were giving the outlander woman a wide berth as they made their way down the platform towards the various arrival terminals surrounding the Space Elevator.

Grand Dame Noémie Durand of Karseille was letting the Imperial guest go through their coughing fit in peace, the air here on Midgård was quite different in comparison to the smog choked Hive Cities that many Imperial were accustomed to, or the factory choked Forge Worlds. Midgård was the capital world of the Kingdom, the seat of power for not only the Riksdag but also High King Surtr.

"Frakk, urgh,, I feel like I might spew in a minute. What kind of machine spirit cursed contraption was that? You said it was an elevator, not a bloody dropper. My heart and stomach just swapped places!" Ostia glares at her supposedly benevolent guide during this trip to Midgård, and now she felt like Noémie was actively trying to make her sick or something.

"Oh do not be so dramatic, it is an elevator for all intents and purposes. It rather jarring for all people when they first take I assure you. The ride up to the space port is much more comfortable I dare say however. Now Ostia cheri, let's keep moving so we don't block traffic. Allonz, Allonz." Noémie hooks an arm with Ostia's free arm, helping the Scion back upright and making their way down the walkways to arrivals.

Ostia grumbled some more under her breath while using the back of her hand to rub off anything from her mouth, giving a short glare at Noémie's very nonchalant approach to everything in life. It's already been one heck of a joy-ride these past few months, and if the galaxy had anything to say about this, it was that the ride was not going to calm down anytime soon. No matter what came round the next bend, it was almost something either a pleasant surprise or a serious head-turner.

Ostia still recalled when Noémie did a tour of the various Knights the various Dynasties of Karseille had in their hold, before getting the real surprise of witnessing the Knight called Dominion move on its own volition and even spoke. Though calling it actual human speech is another thing, the substance and tone was there in its words regardless.

"There should be a little time before we are truly required to make our appearance with the Ambassadors and the High King, so we can take in some sights here within the Capitol. Surely you would like to see something of their unique culture and faith? You are clearly more open minded in comparison to those frankly uncouth Inquisitive types,," Noémie rattles on some more, breaking Ostia out of her thoughts and now aware the duo had already made it through the arrival halls and toll gates. Ostia turned her gaze round to see what Noémie pointed out prior, before freezing in her tracks.

The city outskirts spread out across the valley before Ostia, and perched on the horizon were great edifices of stone and iron, towers and buttresses dotted along various monuments and constructs. Nowhere near the sheer scale of Imperial Hives or the like,, but the breadth of colors and materials mixed in the streets and boulevards, the clearly newer homes and skyscrapers being neighbors with centuries old brick mansions and malls. Ostia felt as if she was looking at an old relic tapestry from a bygone age, a mural depiction of what a civilization from before the Emperor or his like ever came to power. Locked in a time before Imperial modernisation and culture shifts.

On Imperial worlds and stations, one was always reminded of the present wars across the Imperium: vox hailers and Ecclesiarchy priests crowing at the citizens, propaganda and recruitment billboards and vox-net, the flotilla of Imperial Navy patrolling to and from almost every port. But here,,

"Do they even know that there is war going on? Out there in the Galaxy?" Ostia finally spoke, her eyes following the miniatures of citizens milling through the avenues and workplaces. "They know. Every single one of them." Noémie nods solemnly, a more neutral tone in her voice this time as she senses Ostia's mood change.

"But,, this doesn't feel like one being affected by the war. It's almost,, idyllic, calming even. Is this really the capitol?" Ostia still held onto Noémie's for a bit longer as she looked across the expanse of the city. Broad roads of cobblestones, foot bridges of wood and steel crossing over streets and canals, heaving open-air markets dotted through the districts.

"In the eyes of Midgårds people, yes. Kalmaholm was never meant to become a metropolis, but with Surtr's reign and the love of his new people,, it went through changes to accommodate the new center of a growing power." Noémie sighs gently under her breath, a softer gaze across her face as Ostia tries to spot where the High King may have his Palace or such like.

"Grand Dame Durand! What a welcome sight on your return." Ostia and Noémie turned to find the owner of the new voice, and spot the approaching men. Ostia has another heart skip however,, the man in question addressing her guide was not only huge, but had clearly visible neuro-ports dotted along his bared forearms and under his vest collar. Was he an Astartes?

"Ah! Löjtnant Lukas Tøva, so good to see you in warm health. And so well groomed as always, I must compliment you Midgårdians on your spring outfits." Noémie quickly releases her guest and regales Lukas with praise. If Ostia didn't know any better, she might have guessed the Dame was interested in the guy.

This Tøva character stood tall over Noémie and Ostia, easily half a head above R'tan in height though the main difference was his build. A broader chest and shoulders, with an overall heftier stocky appearance than the usual Astartes chiseled image that Imperial Propaganda would have one imagine. Tøva was clad in simple clothing of a dyed leather vest with a long sleeved linen tunic beneath, thicker weave trousers and what appeared to be rubber-soled slippers or shoes. The only thing which made Tøva distinct from his attendets was the metal badge pinned to his vest, with the seal of office he held.

"Hahaha you flatter me Grand Dame. I trust your journey here was without trouble? And I was informed you had brought guests however, ones that were not formally announced till you had already traversed The Veil." Tøva changed his tone while addressing Noémie, while his eyes turned to focus onto Ostia some meters behind.

The hairs on the back of her neck immediately stood on end, breath catching a scant moment when Tøva's eyes locked onto Ostia's. She always felt the gaze from an Astartes was cold or distant, but with R'tan it was vastly different, those held warmth, mirth and tender care. Tova's was something else entirely.

It felt as though Ostia was staring down the barrel of a bolter, having caught the attention of some apex predator in the bushland and locking eyes with them. The eyes were amber jewels beneath the trimmed brow, glinting sharply with calculating intent and precision. Ostia needed to reach for her weapon, her bolt pistol, something in hopes to get those eyes off of her. Now.

"Löjtnant Lukas, please be at ease. No need to scare my friend like so, she is a representative of House Haldus from the Imperium! Her House are allies of mine in this conflict with the enemy. Our, Enemy." Noémie firmly jabs the Astartes in the chest with an scolding finger, not enough to jostle the man but plenty enough to break his gaze with Ostia and scowl a little at Noémie.

Ostia felt her lungs open up again, her sudden tension and axienty melt away just as quickly they were forced onto her. Not exactly the most heartwarming of greetings she has had on a new world, but it wasn't the worst welcome she's had either. Her time here on Midgård is going to be eventful she thought while she cursed under her breath.

"Groxshit,,"

(Ostia Haldus belongs to of course @rowscara!)

[marcusmettalus]

Where Land And Myth Tread (Part One).

It has been some weeks now since the convoy left Karseille, its compliment of dignitaries, serfs, cargo and tourists keeping themselves occupied within the confines of the halls and vaulted chambers. This journey was no different from any other that Lady Ostia Haldus had taken with the Imperial Guard, Rogue Traders and Astartes,, were it not for the destination being presented.

Outside Imperial controlled space.

Ostia rested her chin wearily on her arm, looking out into the whirling twisted yet vibrant Immaterium through the wide diaglass porthole, her mind going through the events of the last year. The numerous conflicts with the Iron Warriors, the growing relationship with R'Tan, the revelation that her Sister Lucelle was not only alive but was now the soul of WARDEN, and had been protecting her all this time. Loss of allies,, friends,,

Ostia rubbed her eyes with her free palm, grumbling at why her mind decided to retrace her steps of late, like it was trying to find a singular point that led her to this moment and always coming up empty. "I need some recaff,," muttering with a scowl, her metallic prosthetic clicking and ticking when they swing down to pick herself up from the window sill.

Her guest chambers aboard this cruiser was,, soft. It smacked of low imperial nobility with its tapestries and ornate rugs, and for some cursed reason a four post bed with more textiles hung from its posts. Why could these people not just given her a more rank-n-file bunk room with a cot and called it a day? Ostia sighs as she tries not to aggravate herself further, her metal limbs carrying her out of the chambers and out into the hall, mindful at least not to rip the fine woven rug on the way.

Dampened treads now a rhythmic clicking as Ostia navigated through the corridors, the Imperial having collected her large mug of recaff with no real destination in mid though,, her mind yet again doing the insufferable thing of reminiscing of past events.

She idly chuckles at the thought of how R'tan might be reacting when he finds out of this sudden trip Ostia has undertaken, knowing the large oaf would no doubt be trying to get to her in all manner of ways. Ostia had left some vox-messages for him prior to the departure, ensuring they would at the very least reach his company, updating on the current happenings at Karseille and her well-being as well as this trip towards,, well, outside of Imperial Space. (She had to phrase this carefully so not to actually say it was that far away,, but is not sure she succeeded.)

"Mademoiselle Haldus? Do you wish to enter la soute?"

Ostia blinks as she finds herself having walked all the way down towards one of the cargo hangers, where WARDEN was being held during this journey. Her mind being brought back by thanks of the Karseillais Guard who had been tasked with this entrance, the young man appearing a little confused by the distant gaze Ostia had when walking towards him.

"Ah, yes please. Uhhh,, Merçi." Ostia responding hesitantly, attempting a bit of Karseillais that she has picked up from her numerous talks with Noémie Durand and her peers. The guard gives a warm chuckle before thumbing the access panel with his free hand, offering a welcome answer to Ostia's honest attempt of his native tongue "Á l'aise."

Ostia leaned against support struts of Warden's foot, sipping her now honestly lukewarm recaff, enjoying the more neutral mechanical hum and noise from within the hanger than the hubbub of the upper decks and mess-halls. It was not too quiet to make her uneasy nor too loud to be a nuisance, a welcome middle point for Ostia to enjoy during the repetitive days onboard the cruiser. Lucelle appeared to be resting at the moment within her silica and plasteel home, something that Ostia envied a little,, not all her dreams were quiet or peaceful.

The woman stared into the dark swirling drink in her grasp, the faintly oily surface reflecting a muddled reflection of her tired gaze,, a mockery almost. How long has it been,, since she last smiled, laughed, been allowed to be herself, bare her soul without shame? Weary, tired, worn out like too little jam spread over a wheat-bread. Ostia did not even notice as her body slowly slid down till she was sat against the cool metal of the Knight's foot, her hands locked in grasping the ceramic mug and its tepid contents.

Throne on Terra was she tired. Not just from lack of slumber, but from the constant conflict over the years, the old blood stained on her hands, groxshit politics and bureaucracy, numerous visits to the medibay when her prosthetics start being rejected, old scars sending shocks of searing pain for no apparent reason,, nightmares of what she had seen in the caverns. It never seemed to end,, she could do tha-

"Ow! Fekking,," Ostia snaps back into reality when she feels a stab of pain in her hand, almost dropping the mug of recaff when she jerks her hand free. Finally noticing that her mug had a small crack in its surface, and a small shard of it was now poking into her palm. Ostia grumbles lightly under her breath as she sets the mug down gently on a cargo crate near her, before delicately extracting the ceramic shard from her skin. She inspects the sharp little nuisance that had broken her from her stupor, wondering how such a little thing could cause such pain.

",,, huh, I guess even little things can have some bite."

Ostia muses in a whisper, turning the small shard over in her fingers, seeing how the pale red blood stained the dark grey sliver.

Her musing gets interrupted once more though as the vox hailers in the scaffolds crackle into life, giving a short klaxon call prior to its announcement. *All stations, all stations, prepare for warp transit. All hands, double up all lines and secure. Repeat, prepare for warp transit.*

Ostia curses as she downs the remainder of the tepid recaff, the shard getting wordlessly tucked into a pocket while she gets herself up to anchor on one of WARDEN's shin plates, bracing herself for the incoming jolt that always comes with transitioning back into realspace.

Not even a minute later the entire vessel jerks as the cruiser decelerates, returning back into reality and its innumerable laws of physics. Cables whine as they hold down cargo while bulkheads groan as they try to keep the ship together. WARDEN tips slightly from the shift in gravity and change in momentum, but thanks to the numerous cables (and Lucelle waking up to adjust her balance), the large Knight does not fall over.

Ostia breathes a sigh of relief as nothing seems to break or get flung about, recalls numerous times onboard Imperial vessels of cargo getting yeeted through the air due to being not tied down, and sending a crewman or Imperial Guard into the air.

A short klaxon is heard once more through the vox hailers, while the hanger blast doors sink into the floor as their task of protecting the cargo has been accomplished. The twisted scape of warp-stuff had been replaced,, with the sight of a massive world below with wide stretches of ocean and mountains, and over its pole hung a web of orbital installations and docking arms, the silvery metal reflecting the light from a hidden sun beyond the planet.

*Warp transit complete, successful drop to destination co-ords. Captain Treudo welcomes all passengers, to Valgrind Station. Welcome to the Kingdom of Midgård, where Land and Myth tread.*

(Ostia Haldus belongs to @rowscara !)

[marcusmettalus]

Memories of Another.

Noémie Durand: It is an unexpected, but welcome surprise to see you here Lady Haldus.

Ostia Haldus: Was not really my plan either, but I was given not many alternatives. Though I have to say your people are,,, a welcome surprise too.

Noémie: Haha! Karseilles is quite an outsider compared to much of the Imperium, but we're slowly making way in communicating with them.

Ostia: I've heard that you were,, quite new to being a leader. Some even called you the Young Queen, though I could not tell if they were making a jab at you or using a casual title.

Noémie: Aaaah. Well, compared to many previous Grand Dame and Seigneur, I have not ruled for many years, nor has my Family been in major powers for any great period of time. I've ruled only some,, 84 years now, come winter.

Ostia: Wait. Wait wait, you've been Queen for 80+ years? But you are also a Scion, are you not? How long ha-?

Noémie: I have been bonded to Dominion for 104 years, 8 months and 21 days. I,, I am not allowed to forget this. I was training to be a Scion, and to be the next head of my Family. Never did I see the day that the entire Lyonesse Dynasty to die in a short 8 months.

Ostia: That sounds a little,, too exact.

Noémie: Dominion is,, ancient. They hold the memories of hundreds within themselves. And those memories are becoming my own, with time. And when I pass, my own memories will become theirs, for the next Scion to bear. I'm the youngest to pilot themz and the youngest to rule these people.

Ostia: ,,,, all the memories?

Noémie: Not all, I've trained for years to be able to not delve too deep into Dominion when I pilot them,, but some days, I am no longer Noémie. I'm another Scion, maybe from Durand, maybe from another Family. Their victories, their aspirations,, their deaths.

Ostia: May I ask a personal question? How do you,, how do you handle that burden?

Noémie: Burden? Hmmm, I guess I used to think of it as a burden. But that was a long time ago. Now, heh, c'est la vie. But I think what you're actually asking,, is how do you deal with the memories of another, and keep yourself here. My dear Haldus, see these as dreams. Dreams of your past lives, how you made mistakes and learned from them, those you loved and killed. They will hurt, but they are of the past lives, and will not kill you. They will embolden you, protect you from making the same mistake as they once did.

(Ostia Haldus belongs to @rowscara , and Noémie Durand is mine.)

[marcusmettalus]

Foreign Shores in a Foreign Sea.

"For the Love of Terra, STOP!"

The entourage of Karseillains and guards blink a little at the sudden outburst from Ostia Haldus, Noémie Durand looking mildly miffed at the sudden disturbance while she was attempting to get her newly acquired friend to board the Light Cruiser.

It's been several months now, and much had been done and visited here on Karseille and it's twin moons, but now Noémie has been asked to visit her Vassal Liege, and thought this was a brilliant (if perhaps naive) moment to take along her friend. However, it seemed that Ostia was not fully onboard and clearly not well informed about all this dealigs.

"I thought you would be interested and welcome the distraction Ostia, and it's not a long jou-" Noémie began before getting cut off by Ostia again.

"Wait. Just,, can we start from the beginning. Who is, your Liege? I thought you were your own people and little monarchy, how is this,, Muspell-whatever your actual ruler? Or are you his servants?"

Noémie sighs deeply, before speaking sharply in the native tongue to her entourage. The guards give a sharp salute before they continue their way towards the docking bridge, the entourage from the various Dynasties hesitate for a brief moment before yielding, following the guards. One the pair are relatively alone, Noémie sizes up her silver haired friend.

Stubborn, not too unusual for an Imperial, but is not a glory seeker or grabs for power, scarred both from the campaigns,, and from her own family. Ostia can make strange friends, having spoken fondly of an Astartes on several occasions, and some members of a Rogue Trader dynasty. But,, still an Imperial.

"Ostia, High King Muspelson is my Liege, as he and my ancestors made an alliance many centuries ago. We would be under his protection as we gained out feet, trade resources, knowledge. And in times of war, we would lend our Knights should the need arise for them. But we are not his servants or slaves. Though,, some people within our Noblesse may see otherwise."

Ostia crosses her arms across her chest, her brow sinking slightly whilst Noémie spoke. "He's your protector liege then,, against what though? The outside world? The Imperium? Orks? Cause up untill a year ago, no one knew your monarchy existed."

"A little bit of the three, if I will be honest. When Muspelson came into power, the Imperium was in pieces, having lived through it's bloodiest civil war on a scale not seen since. Allies now were enemies, and those you'd call your family,, no longer wished for your health. The people clouded by superstitions and fear and Chaos. Muspelson, wanted none of that taint to reach his people, or his allies."

It was not Ostia to look surprised at was being told, her head acant with a more curious frown than judging. "Civil War? What are you on about? There hasn't been a civil war for centuries, fekk, millennia within the Imperium. The last time there was one it was th-"

Like a glo-light finally igniting to life, Ostia puts the odd shaped pieces of the puzzle together. The Heresy. That was in a totally different age all together, thousands of years ago when the Imperium was trying to forge something greater, and when the Emperor was still walking. 'When Muspelson came into power, the Imperium was in pieces..' Noémie's words echoed in Ostia's mind, not quite believing what was being said. No one could live that long, surely? It must be a title then, something inherited by each successor when they take the throne. Or?

"Ostia, I do not have all the answers to your questions. I too am still learning about Muspelson's people and history. But there is one truth that I have learnt from a young age, taught by my Uncle Julien. Si vous pouvez le voir, alors vous pouvez le croire."

Noémie smiles softly as she recalls her late Uncle's face and rolling laughter, the gaudy room he called his library. But the pearls of his philosophy still lived on.

"If you can see it, then you can believe it."

Noémie Durand turned round and made her way towards the docking bridge, leaving Ostia alone for her thoughts to gather. The Scion going though her tumbling thoughts for what felt like an eternity. But her eyes were set.

Metallic clicking was heard again, as Ostia climbed up onto the docking bridge, boarding the cruiser with a course set,, for Midgård.

(Edit. Forgot to tag @rowscara in todays drabble. woops)

[marcusmettalus]

Warden of Sorrows Past, Omniscient Dominion.

"Huh,, for all the ominous words and campfire stories, I thought he'd be scarier looking."

Ostia Haldus tilted her head as she looked over the Questoris pattern Knight, the hull of dark reds broken up by gold trim and ashen pauldrons. Not many banners or sigils hanging from the great machine other than the banner of the Durand Dynasty, and the crest of House Chevalier stamped into the hull. Written across the breast of the beast, in void black ink, was the name: DOMINION.

"Hah! It's how they lure you in, look like your standard knight before it pulls a trick out of the book from 4 centuries ago." Noémie Durand laughs dryly, the older Scion fixing up her auburn hair with flecks of grey, wearing her pilot gear save for her helm which hung at her belt.

Ostia had been on Karseille now for a few days, and had been getting ansty at the lack of action lately. Then again, being at the ass end of the Galaxy and so far from any of the front lines does make the quest for a fight migty hard. Thus was the idea of a friendly sparring match between Ostia and Noémie was put forth by one of Noémie's aides. It would give the pilots of House Chevalier a good understanding on how another House fights, and give Ostia an idea what all the fuss was about regarding these strange Monarche Class Knights.

Ostia turns her head again, the long silver hair gliding over her outer garb, her eyes noticing something out of place on Dominion, a talon on her mechanical foot clicking rhythmically in the metal flooring before her mind registers the issue.

"Why does his gauntlet look weird? It's kinda,, what's the word? Grox shit! Why can't I find the word?" Ostia sputters a swear as she scratches the back of her head, garnering a surprised expression from Noémie, before the older woman laughs musically.

"Hahahaha, I love how you Imperials use explitives, haaa, such colorful language! And the reason their Gauntlet is like so, is due to a modification they made many years ago. And no, I did not mis-speak."

Noémie chuckles warmly under her breath as she tucked her hair in slightly while walking towards Dominion, her metal plates heels clicking softly over the flooring. Suddenly, the Knight begins to move, though it's Pilot was most definitely not aboard.

Ostia flails a bit while taking a step back, eyes bolted wide open as she witnesses this supposedly impossible interaction. Knights had advanced machine spirits, that was abundantly well known, but they can't move or operate themselves when the Throne or the Pilot isn't mounted in place. And yet,,

The exhaust pipes rumbled sonorously, gears and hydraulics hissing while Dominion slowly knelt down to lay it's open gauntlet out for Noémie to clamber up onto. Despite her instincts, Ostia finds herself getting closer to the duo, with an almost child like curiosity.

Once the older Scion is on the palm of the heavy metal warrior, a deeper rumble and growl comes from the exhausts, Dominion heaving itself upright into the air till full height. The great helmed head of the being looked over Noémie with it's dull crimson lenses before a solitary word could be heard through it's vox hailers.

[We.]

(Might make a part 2? Brain needs a bit more material to work with, and get some ideas going. Ostia belongs to @rowscara . Maybe I'll see if I can do one with Klarissa and the gang? Maybe Klarissa decides to look more into that map she saved?)

[marcusmettalus]

Where Land And Myth Tread (Part Two)

"Wait, they named their space port which receives all incoming traffic be it trade or tourists or dignitaries,,, after the literal gate of their version of the afterlife?"

Ostia Haldus had confronted Dame Noémie Durand once the cruiser had docked into the expansive orbital station. The small convoy of cruisers and escort vessels had traversed through The Veil that enclosed the Kingdom of Midgård's sectors, the experience of which made the first week of travel somewhat restless and anxiety inducing.

The convoy was docked safely within the berthing limbs, crew being transferred back and forth along with restocking food supplies and munition, while there was talk of some manner of,, priests? clergy? the translation of the native words aren't perfect it seems. But they were going to supposedly inspect the Warp-core installed in the ships, for what Ostia could not phantom.

"Ostia, mon cher ami, it's not named so crudely. Valgrind is the name of the first gate on the path to Vallhøl, the hall where all warriors come to rest when they fall in battle. There they drink, feast and train for the 'War to end all Wars', whatever that war is,, considering the current conflicts tearing up the Imperium." Noémie sounding at first as she was reciting from some textbook, before dropping back into her more familiar weary tone.

Why was so many things named so strangely and why does nothing have a Low Gothic translation? Ostia has no interest in having to study for a decade just to ask for some recaff at some street market.

Though she does feel for Noémie and her temperament toward the Imperial bureaucracy. As someone who grew up with and was studying how it (sort-of) worked while still with House Haldus,, versus Noémie whom had to learn what had now become of the Golden Empire she and her people remember from ancient times,, it was a dance macabre. The backstabbing and backroom politics, the copious amounts of gelt and trade secrets being moved, how certain individuals could simply wave a hand and have removed entire continents or planets simply because they wanted to.

Ostia rubbed two digits into the bridge of her nose, trying to wrangle her mind back to the somewhat clear and present. "Fekking hells,, alright alright, Valgrind like a gate towards their heaven then. Now, why aren't we staying on your cruiser? Aren't we meant to head to their capital?"

"Oui Oui Oui, ons va ons va. Relax Ostia cheri, the timetable for events and meetings are flexible here in Midgård, and the station needs to ensure our vessels have been sanitized before we head deeper towards the core worlds. For now, we get to relax a little and take in some sights. I hear that the world here had just recently been planted, we may get to see something truly spectacular. It has been many years since I last saw one,,,"

Noémie waves nonchalantly at Ostia, one would think this Imperial never had any sort of get-away or respite in her years. As host to the Lady Haldus, it would be improper of the graying woman not to spoil her guest a little. It might be even good for her health, Ostia did look a little pale when Noémie first met the young woman. Hmmm, need more greens in the next dinner,, and perhaps some extra pillows.

Ostia clearly was not truly in the mood to be a tourist, but with the Grand Dame grabbing her by the wrist and tugging her off towards the closest observatory on this deck of the station, it appears the heir of Haldus has little choice in the matter.

"What is all the fuss about though, its just gotten seeds or grain sown right?" Ostia grumbles as Noemie gets the woman into the large observatory, numerous monitors and holo-screens set up for tourists and crew to look at the progress of the world below. Though it seemed that Ostia is being led to what looks like some manner of telescope, aimed down at one of the continents obscured by some cloud masses.

"Ostia cheri, just take a look down here,, and tell me if this is just some seeds being planted?"

The Haldus heiress glares a little at her host then back to the telescope, deciding just to get this ordeal over with so they could continue on their journey. Propping up her eye into the viewing reticle, letting the numerous lenses adjust to bring into focus the clou-

"What,, what is that? It looks like some giant tree or statue? Or,,"

The clouds full of rain had slowly drifted along the winds, to reveal a massive structure of some sort. It appears to be made from hewn rock and wood, twisted roots and branches clutching at its limbs. No, it was not some sort of natural formation or edifice by Midgård hands, it was a creature? a warp-born being? The being was slowly moving, striding across the muddy plains, its feet of roots and granite tearing up the wet earth while it walked, effectively tilling the soil with the rain and whatever spores and debris from its frame.

In the background Ostia faintly heard some manner of automated tourist guide talking over the vox-hailers, now speaking in Low-Gothic for those who were from the Imperium.

'This planet has been seeded with numerous plants and bacteria from a dozen different colonized realms, and with the aide of Mother Jørd, we help in breathing life back into the world. The giants you see migrating over the continents are Avatars of Jørd, children from the world itself. One can say that the land itself is walking!'

(Ostia Haldus as always belongs to @rowscara! Hope you get better soon!!)

[marcusmettalus]

Ghosts in the Machine Spirit

(Tagging @rowscara because muahahaha)

A gripping numbness encased Ostia's body, soaked through her clothes and bodysuit beneath, like hoarfrost clinging to diaglass panes. Groggy unfocused eyes gazed somewhere and nowhere at once, as her mind was slowly coming back to the present.

Where was she? Her bloodshot weary eyes slowly moved, taking in the dreary grayscale place she found herself in. Nothing. Just an infinite emptiness that went into forever, save for the ankle deep icy water the reflected the inky blackness. So cold and tired was Ostia that she barely registered the water soaked into her hair and clothes, but stiffly did she sit up.

"This,,, is a dream? It is,, different." Ostia's throat felt like she swallowed coarse sand paper and cotton wads, clogged up and hoarse. Coughing to try and clear her throat, the Scion looks around once more to try and find something to help snap herself back to reality.

[Tia]

Ostia felt her heart skip a few beats, flailing as she tries to get up on her feet in a scrambling mess of soaked clothes and clawing hands. Whipping her head about, eyes wide as for the briefest moment could have heard her sister's voice. "Wait,, wha, how. No, its a dream, quiet yo-" but her voice catches in her mouth, as Ostia catches a terrifying vision only some meters away.

Lucelle. Her elder sister, who she has not seen in oh so long, clad in her favorite dress she had gotten at the fair. Though,, she appeared like a phantom of pale eerie lights, Ostia able to see through the woman at the darkness behind.

Either Ostia had been dosed with so much chems by some Imperial Medic, Warden truly playing a cruel trick on her sleeping mind, or a combination of the two.

[Oh sister, truly it is a dark day indeed,, if you are afraid of me, Little Tia.]

"Stop. Stop,, talking in her voice. G-Get out of my head Warden!" Ostia clutched at her head, fingers clawing through her matted hair, shaking her head about to try and clear out what she was hearing. Scrunching her eyes closed tight, having some false hope that she would soon wake up inside the cockpit of Warden, and able to yank out every damned cable from the accursed Knight.

[You wear the Haldus colors well,, even though you were never destined for them.]

Ostia can feel tears creeping down her cheeks, the voice and tone of this apparition oh so natural sounding, why does Warden torment her so?

"Stop, stop, stop, Stop!"

[Ostia. Pull yourself together, or I will tell Jorick that it was you who stole those Median Cookies on Honor's Eve!]

Ostia froze suddenly, her eyes snapping open when this ghost uttered that threat. Slowly the Scion looked up and into the Lucelle shaped figure, her teary eyes looking up into those glaring eyes. That memory is only she could ever recall, oh so many years ago, Warden could not be able to see any significance in such a moment in their childhood.

"Lu? It's,, but, you died." the younger sibling rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms, while the ghost softens her gaze at her sister, hands delicately crossed over her waist.

[I did. What I am,, is what remains of me. That night where Mother took me to the Thrones,, I did not wake up, my body and soul separated for too long. It consumed my very being. But not gone, thanks to you Tia.]

Ostia blinks slowly, trying to process all of this as Lu spoke, some small voice in her mind urging her to hug her Ghost Sister, but her fears of all of this being a fake were still quite real. "Because of me? But,, why did it take so long till now? Its been,, years, almost decades now! If you were here all along ho-"

[Tia, you could not hear me. So much grief and pain you bore for all this time, trying to distance yourself from Haldia and our family. Your heart and soul were closed,, except that one night.]

Ostia's mind flew back, the inky blackness around the duo morphing to show a memory. Blood and iron, steel and shrill screams, her body wracked by such pain that even the loss of her legs could not compare.

"You,, you were alive then? Locked in the Throne all this time?" Ostia can feel her legs giving out, fresh tears welling up once more as she feels her hands reach out instinctively for Lucelle. "Its been so long Lu, if I had known,, but then you stuck here is my fault?"

[What there was, yes. And I felt your pain, your anger,, and your hope. You thought of me, finding some strength in it,, and that helped me remain. It,, how to say, I stopped feeling lost and wayward. And I have tried for so long, to try and help you as you roamed and fought so many years. But these past few months, it has been so much easier, I am not sure what happened on that world,, but I Feel again.]

Lucelle reaches out with a hand and lightly flicks a finger against Ostia's forehead, giving a sharp sting to the teary eyed younger sister. Ostia flinching with a little yelp, rubbing her head where the sudden pain erupted from.

[ And Lu dear,, you are not to blame. I am still here thanks to you, and I can keep looking out for my brash little sister. Well, you are not so little anymore, now are you?]

Lucelle pulls Ostia in, and by the Emperor she is tangible, a tender warmth finally creeping into Ostia's body as her older sister embraces her, melting away this dreadful numbness. Those threatening tears now spill with earnest now while Ostia hugs her sister for the first time in what felt like an eternity, crying into Lucelle's shoulder.

"I'm sorry Lu, I'm sorry,,"

[Shhh Tia, I do not blame you. I, I know about Mother. I cannot fault your fury and pain, and my heart too soft for such things as war and combat. But now,, I will help protect my little Sister. I am not leaving you ever again.]

Ostia nods quietly, having dreaded on many restless night what Lu would have thought or said to her if she were to find out about the death of their Mother and exile from Haldia. Yet Ostia now felt more determined than before, that Warden would not be the tomb of her sister or herself. It will be a beacon, to spite the pain and fury, to prosper.

(bloopers under cut)

[Also,, I see these memories of a tall, dark and handsome. I think he is kinda cute~]

Ostia sputters and flails like some poor Schola Program student. "Lucelle!"

[Well, someone is not complimenting him, so I might as well do it. Huh, seeing as I have more power over this Knight, I wonder if I can use its vox hailers.]

"I already have enough panic from one talking Knight with Noémie, I DO NOT NEED MORE!"