Light's End

((Previously, in Techpriest Kiloth's blog)) 

"Yes, I suppose the Templar will have to rise again some day," Tharan sighed. The sudden arrival of another member of his crew had driven all dreariness from the techpriest's head. Worrying about something as simple as ship repair was a blessing. "And yes, I survived."

 “What, by the Light’s irreverent shadow, do you mean data is corrupt?!” Tharan roared and slammed the sharp points of his mechadendrite’s fingers into the rocky wall. “The system of memory storage is based entirely on Titan design?! How could it fail?!” He roared again and sent an arch of fire soaring toward his sword. The blood along the blade’s edge turned to steam in an instant.

Tharan woke again with sparks arching from his right shoulder. His arm, replaced after his run-in with a trigger-happy inquisitor and his means for confession, was horribly malfunctioning. What oil had drained from it was now pooled beneath the techpriest. It stained the snow. It stained the blood-red of his robes. It stained the white skull of the Death Watch.

The chill of ice was what first sent a shiver through the huddled, ragged form lying face down in the gray snow and ash. Wisps of condensing breath wound their way up from the man’s opened mouth. His breathing was ragged and a cough broke through every so often when ash was sucked into his lungs. Darkness swarmed all around him and cave walls seemed to ever so slowly collapse his world.