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In the dank crypts of the Slaughtered Lamb, Lombard, Duke Warpmind, the one who sought to halt the Scarlet Mission, he who thought he was destined to bring peace to all... was thinking.

The Cult of the Martyr was progressing slowly, but progressing it was. Initiates were coming in, at a slower rate than Lombard would like, but they were still coming. If only there was some way to speed up the process. Then Lombard would be able to save this world from the flame.

Lombard heard footsteps on the stairs. He used his mental abilities to scan the crypt for sentient beings. It was Criid, the First Lady of the Cult. Lombard relaxed. His location was safe, for the moment. And once he had enough members to maintain the cult in his absence, he would be able to retreat to his true lair, and no one would ever find him there.

'Good day, Milord.' said an elegant and charming voice from behind him.

Lombard did not turn to greet her. He knew Criid's voice too well to have to finalise it being her.

'It is good to see you again, Milady,' Lombard replied in his hoarse and rasping voice, 'Come. Sit with me.'

Criid sat down quietly next to him. Her prescense was calming to Lombard's broken mind.

'You seem distant, dearest. Are you well?' She said, her voice not losing a speck of it's charm at any time.

'I am as well as a man of my condition can be, Milady,' Lombard sighed, 'my mind is still tormented by visions of events past. And events to come.'

'If I may be so bold,' Criid asked inquisitively, 'May you share your burden with me? Tell me of your visions?'

Lombard looked at her for the first time since she had arrived. She had a beautiful form, as charming in her voice as in her features. She was an excellent cover for him in the City.

'Milady, if I were to show you the workings of my mind before you were ready, what you would see would most undoubtedly drive you to madness. And you're sane wit is the one thing that keeps me strong.' Lombard said, and smiled at her.

Criid smiled back at him, but there was a hint of disappointment in her face. Lombard put his strongest arm around her. 'Patience, my love. Once you are ready, you will share in my wisdom.'

'It was foolish of me to ask, Milord. I am sorry.' Criid said, and looked away, ashamed. Lombard pulled her closer to him reassuringly.

'Don't apologize, dearest. I cannot blame your inquisitive nature. I find it to be an asset to our plans.' Lombard said, smiling benevolantly at her, despite his deformed features.

Criid blushed, and giggled like a schoolgirl. She had her cute moments, Lombard gave her that. She snuggled up to him, away from the surrounding cold of the crypt.

Lombard smiled in the torch-light, his chin resting on Criid's head, both his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Once Lombard had brought peace to the world, he could settle down with her, and maybe start a family.

But it was too soon to be having such optimistic thoughts. The task still needed to be done, and it would take the power of a thousand Lombards and a thousand Criids combined to complete it.

More were needed.


OOC:

As a reminder to SWC, Martyrite needs more members! Once we have a decent amount of solid members (about 20), the true guild content can begin in earnest!

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