+ inload: Inquisitor Unfortunus Veck +

+ Knave of Hands: The Rubricist, Childeric; Unfortunus Veck +

Guard your name well. Names grant power. This is for two reasons. Mundanely, knowledge is itself a synonym for power. Secondly, resonance. Your name is a label indelibly etched to your animus - your Emperor-warded soul. Your name can be an anchor for your safety, or it can be a pinion; reducing you to a butterfly in a lepidopterist's case.

+ Second book of Meditations - Inquisitor Unfortunus Veck+ 

Childeric ducked under an awning, irritably waving away a questioning look from the sallow-faced trader. He slapped down his over-cloak to remove the dust, and brushed his hands together.
"Which way to the Sacristan's Chamber, ma'am?" 
The woman brushed a greasy lock of hair back under her bonnet.
"Not far. Do you know Locksmithies street, past the Narrowman's Avenue?" Seeing a blank look on the scribe's face, she scratched thoughtfully at a boil on her jaw as she continued. "Hmm. Thevenin can guide you. For a price." 
Childeric raised an eyebrow, then produced a thin cedarwood half-token with a wry half-smile. The woman's mouth split into a gummy grin, and she straightened up.
"Thevenin! Boy-child! Come here."

The boy was, for want of a better word, revolting. There was something unrecognisably unpleasant about the skittering movements he made as he darted over piles of brick rubble. The Rubricist kept up well. He got the impression that Thevenin was slightly discomfitted about the fact; he felt it likely the boy was used to losing his fare and keeping the token.

The winding streets turned into alleyways, which in turn began to close in. Keeping a close watch on the boy, Childeric patted his breast, feeling the reassuring weight of the bladed pistol beneath. Just as he felt sure the boy was leading him into an ambush, the scampering child turned, his black eyes expectant and finger outstretched. The Chamber.

Flicking the gleeful child an extra fourthing chit, Childeric stepped forward into a bustling crowd. An elbow slipped awkwardly into him and a muttered oath reached his ears as he barged forward. Something was happening around the Sacristan's Chamber. The sky was an ominous purple-orange, with tinder-ash settling on the crowd. A book-burning.

+++

+ Painting the Rubricist +

+ Finished up the Rubricist last night with the final details and some basing added using various bits and pieces around. I've tried to keep the basing fairly anonymous, so it doesn't detract from the figure, and will fit in with most terrain. +

+ This figure is the first to be completed from the very first inload on my blog, where he was described as 'Senior autoscribe; aquiline, 19th century middle-class arrogance/fear. The didact-gauntlet: a hand-filigree minor augment.' The augmented bit got stripped out in the final creation, as I had by this point come up with the idea for the Court of the Sun King project. The story behind this is essentially between two characters of mine, Inquisitor Unfortunus Veck and the enigmatic Sephran Mawl, also known as Polyphy. +

+ Achtung! Spoilers ahead! +

+  If you want to follow the developing story in Coürt of the Sunñe Cyng (the project log on Ammobunker), don't read any further. +

+ Veck has always been described as virtually a non-combatant – he's physically capable, but is an Inquisitor who prefers to direct, research and investigate rather than get stuck in. Sephran Mawl, by contrast, is an ex-Imperial Guard general; a super-charismatic hands-on commander. That's not to say he's not cunning; in many ways as the 'darker grey' of the two, it's fitting that he's both more physically capable and better informed than the struggling Inquisitor. It gives a better story that way, I feel. +

+ At the heart of this project is the phrase 'the pen is mightier than the sword' and so it was essential that Veck – in his disguise as Childeric the Rubricist (oops, spoilers!) – had a pen as part of his model. Similarly, Mawl will have a huge sheathed sword. +