Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20161215224118/@comment-1734134-20170312010039

Cain's home is a chaotic collection of tunnels, corridors and cabins from various space craft that appear to have been cobbled together into a large spire. Banners depict the Chaos Lord at the head of a mighty host of horned warriors, though not a single other traitor astartes appears on the ship bar for spare pieces of power armour that lay strewn on the cable covered and bolted together floor. Human guards are on post, all of them augmented with cybernetics and carrying hot-shot las guns and keeping close watch as you're guided by Cain to a lower level.

Autumn is suspended from chains, already bruised and bloodied. Behind him stands another screen faced tech-abomination, watching you closely as Cain approaches the prisoner. Without a word he draws his blade, a large, jagged daemon sword made of purple crystal and pulsing with a terrible miasma as the souls within it beg for release, "Now, where to start, hmm, I think our guests should have the first cut," Cain looks to you with a warm grin and wide eyes.