Crusade

[Erik Vrell]

Erik trudged through the silent streets of Nippur, his eyes searching for any movement. Truth be told, he didn't really know what he was doing. Weeding out bandits wouldn't be the easiest job in the world if they had the sense to disguise themselves. Although he wanted to focus on his job, his concentration was split between searching for movement and the giant skeleton on the floating throne behind him. “So…” Erik said, breaking the tense quiet and turning to face the Emperor. “What are you, exactly?” The skeleton was silent for a moment, before his robotic voice resounded from… Somewhere.

“I told you, I'm the Emperor of mankind.” He replied. Erik assumed the response was meant to be exasperated, but couldn't really tell. 

“Surely you can't be the emperor of all of humanity. Your empire must cross two, possibly three continents at the very most, no?” 

“The Imperium contains billions of planets across the galaxy.” The Emperor said, barely attempting to conceal his bragging. Erik’s eyes widened in shock at the Emperor’s remark.

“Bill… Billions of planets!? You must be jesting!” 

“Nope.”

Erik struggled to comprehend what he was being told. Countless planets all under the control of one massive empire? It was unfathomable, beyond the realm of even mortal dreams. 

“Are you of divine heritage, then?” Erik asked, unable to see how anyone less than a god could spread their influence so far.

“NO! I am not a god.” The ferocity of his exclamation, obvious even through his text-to-speech device, caused Erik to recoil in shock. The psychic muttered an apology and started to make his way through the city once more.

“You’re a cultist, right?” The Emperor asked, hovering after Erik. 

“I prefer the term high prie-” 

“Priest, cultist, same thing. You really shouldn't follow gods, you know.” 

Erik stopped abruptly and whirled around to face the Emperor. “And why is that?” His face remained deadpan but irritation burned visibly in his eyes.

“Religion causes all kinds of bad shit. War, murder, the chaos gods. It's just better to forget all that and serve the Imperium instead. I could teach you to become a psyker, you know.” 

Erik paused for a moment, processing what the Emperor was telling him and formulating a response with as few expletives as possible. Before he could open his mouth, however, a group of men rounded the corner and rushed towards them, glaring at the pair with crazed expressions, rusted blades in hand. Erik’s eyes flashed with violet light as psi flowed from his sleeves and condensed into a bow in his hands. He drew the string back and an arrow formed in his grip before he released it, striking the closest bandit in between the eyes with a dull ‘thud’. Another bandit fell to a shot to the heart before they were too close for Erik’s bow to be of any use. He dropped the radiant weapon and drew Mageslayer, narrowly managing to bat a blood-stained scimitar to the side before removing its wielder’s arm. The bandit wailed and stumbled forward before Erik lopped his head from his body. A fourth bandit leapt towards Erik, attempting to use his momentum to crash through the psychic’s guard. Erik took a step back, managing to avoid the rusty dagger before blocking the following strike. The bandit struck with animalistic ferocity, refusing to give Erik any quarter. 

Before the duel could last for more than a few seconds, however, a whistling sound made Erik freeze as a bucket shot past his head. The bandit, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. The bucket smashed into his head, knocking him unconscious. Breathing hard, Erik looked around for the source of the makeshift projectile. Suddenly, he remembered that the Emperor was behind him. 

“Did… Did you do that?” Erik asked between laboured panting. 

“Yeah, you're welcome.” 

The psychic glared at the Emperor. “Don't you have any abilities or powers you could have used? You’re a living skeleton on a floating throne, surely you must have something other than a bucket.” 

“No, not yet anyway. You don't need to be such an ass about it, either.” 

Erik sighed and inspected the bandit lying in front of him. He was still breathing, so Erik guessed that he was just unconscious. 

“Let's take him back with us, we might be able to get some information out of him.” Erik hefted the man onto his back, grimly noticing that his outfit had blood on it, despite the fact that he wasn't bleeding. 

“We shouldn't go back yet,” The Emperor replied. “There's probably still some bandits around.” 

Erik nodded in agreement. “You're right. Let's try to stay out of trouble, though, maybe see if we can talk to some townspeople. I'd hate for him to wake up when we’re in the middle of a fight.”