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Rated: GC · Interactive · Adult · #2201615
In the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium, there is only food...
This choice: Ordo Hereticus  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

Ordo Hereticus

    by: Unknown
Of all the ranks of the emperor's golden legions, the Inquisition certainly holds a position of no small intimidation within the offerings of the imperium. You, my fellow scribes and various scriveners of history and lore- surely a lesson wasn't needed to find that the presence of inquisitors makes pissing yourself as natural as an ork within range of a large piece of steel. But I digress- of course I do- how else would this lesson be two hours in length? But anyway, on to the, hehe, meat, or flesh- you could say of the lesson.

All of you know that inquisitors, in general, aren't among the lowest of the god emperor's servants by far. Naturally, their food, drink, and accomodations will be appropriate for their importance. Just as naturally, their resistance to the capricious words of temptation, of sin, would be matching, and for the most part, it proves to be up to the task indeed. Then again, we wouldn't be here, in this musty lecture hall, talking and sleeping over the clacking and scrawling of servitors if the faith of all inquisitors was ironclad. Now, the Inquisition, as a whole, may seem to the commoner as one large, pants wettingly terrifying organization, with goals as unfathomable as they are ominous. But you know better than that. We know better than that. And so, it falls to the ordo hereticus to take the, ahem, weighty brunt of the archenemy. No surprise, for they come into contact with she who thirsts, slannesh, the god of deviancy, on a basis unimaginable for the average citizen. I shan't name names, but let's just say that with the two augmetics that fill my eye sockets, I've seen slim, yet voluptuous ladies of the Inquisition gorge themselves until clothing and armour alike strains to contain their vast guts. Did they get fat? Presumably. I didn't stick around. Seeing a beautiful and intimidating inquisitor fill herself with grox to bursting may sound like the topic of a porno-slate, but when you begin to be looked at not as a loyal scribe, but as a potential meal, it's time to move on, and believe me, I've seen a colleague or two be swallowed whole by an inquisitor under the influence of... Otherworldly entities, their deaths only serving to bloat and swell the once flat stomachs of previously svelts inquisitors gone round the bend. Anyway. That's all for today. I need a drink. Or two. Or three. Don't ask me about any of this. I can still hear those unladylike belches in the back of my mind....
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