The Golden Message, Part 2
Everything was chaos in the streets. Waithira was unable to make out what people were excited chattering about, but the street outside her house was busier than she had ever seen it. People were running around, busily bringing out supplies as the grey clad militia patrolled, though they had their weapons holstered. Everywhere the buildings shimmered with brilliant sunlight, with the decorations that now covered the street catching the light in a sparkling display. Waithira saw a friend of hers in the crowd, who ran up to her smiling ecstatically.
“Waithira! What are you doing, come on! We have to help get things ready!” She grabbed Waithira and pulled her into the crowd, which swallowed them both.
“What’s going on, Wokabi?”
“The Storm King!" Wokabi shouted, "Word is that he has returned!”
Theoderaf stood in his chambers, finishing putting on his armour as Master of the Forge Visimar aided. Theoderaf could tell from Visimar’s manner that he was displeased with Theoderaf’s decision, but was unwilling to argue the point unasked.
“Out with it, Visimar. You do not think I should go down to the planet alone.”
Visimar courtly nodded, attaching the final shoulder pad. “My Lord, we have seen so many times humans pretend to accept us and then attack. These could be the same, and our scans have identified several large constructs that we have been unable to determine their abilities from this range.”
Theoderaf gave his armour a quick look over and then moved to the door. “Visimar, the Emperor has visited them. I am coming in peace to trade information with them, they will not attack me. Do not worry yourself, this is merely a diplomatic mission.” Theoderaf smiled. “Am I not known for my diplomacy?” Theoderaf chuckled, whilst Visimar snorted slightly and joined Theoderaf at the door.
“Will you not at least bring some weapon?”
“No, I will not be needing a weapon. Now, I am heading to the teleportarion, you are dismissed.” They both left the room and headed in different directions.
Militia Commander Kũngũ anxiously tugged at his collar, his other hand lightly brushing against his bolt carbine pistol. He wished he could be allowed to bring more of his militia with him, as he felt exposed as he stood with a single regiment outside the city. He took some reassurance from the two large obsidian constructs that stood guarding the main gate to the city, yet their lack of movement did not fill him with confidence. A sudden flash of light followed by a loud boom echoed from the field in front of them, the militia grabbing their guns and Kũngũ grabbing his pistol.
“Hold, my friend, do not draw your weapon.” Came a strong, calm voice from his side. Kũngũ slowly put the pistol away, looking at Grand Elder Gĩchũki out of the corner of his eye. His attention turned back to the field, and his eyes widened as he saw the golden giant standing there. “It is him.”
Theoderaf took a deep breath, identifying the composition of the air and the feel of gravity for a second. He took a step forward, activating his vox-link to The Emperor’s Oblivion’s propaganda speakers. “People of Ishkur, I have been sent by the Storm King. I am Theoderaf, Lord of the Red Eyes and Son of the Storm King, and I have come to talk with you, as you have been chosen by Him.” He raised his arms, as if embracing the city in front of him. “Rejoice, as the Imperium embraces you!” A roar came from the city, a rousing cheer that was echoed by the militia out in front of the city. Theoderaf saw a central figure in the militia begin walking forward.
There you are, Gĩchũki. Theoderaf thought to himself as he began walking forward to meet him. Theoderaf moderated his pace, reaching Gĩchũki just out of bolt carbine range. Grand Elder Gĩchũki looked to be in his late sixties, with a heavily lined face and shoulder-length grey hair. His long, grey scraggly beard was tied into his clothes of office, long crimson robes embellished with gold. The man bowed as he reached Theoderaf, and Theoderaf inclined his head in response.
“You do indeed look like the Storm King, the beard is a little different and the eyes are… striking. Do you have any proof that you are indeed sent by the Storm King?” Grand Elder Gĩchũki stated matter of factly, not showing any fear at the giant twice his size in front of him. Theoderaf was taken aback by this, though kept a straight face. He reached up to his armour and removed a talisman that was hanging around his armour. He reached down and showed it to Gĩchũki, the golden eagle with rubies embedded glowing in the sunlight.
“This was given to be by my father when he told me I was ready to take command of my legion. It is one of my most cherished gifts, as it is a symbol of his role for me, to be his wrath.” Gĩchũki examined the talisman, and smiled.
“Theoderaf, it is an honour to meet with the son of the Storm King. We welcome you to Ishkur.”