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Purity is a Lie – Extract

A Black Library Publication

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Purity is a Lie

By Gav Thorpe

The air inside the drinking hole was thick with lho smoke, sweat and alcohol fumes. More than that, it was thick with the stench of heresy. Wherever Taddeus looked he saw miscreants, xenos scum and blasphemers against the God-Emperor. Revelry not in celebration of the God-Emperor’s victories was an affront to the sacrifices of the Thronelord and there was much revelry amid the stink of ‘Looter’s Den’.

His arrival did not go unmarked. Chairs scraped across the bare boards of the floor and conversations faltered into silence. From behind a bar of stacked ammunition crates, the vendor scowled. The skinny, scar-faced man reached behind the improvised counter, no doubt for a weapon. Elsewhere blades slid from sheaths, powercells whined on activation and several autoweapons clicked and crunched as hammers were drawn back and safeties released.

The reassuring buzz of Taddeus’ servo-stubber sounded close to his right ear as the self-determining anti-grav skull ascended into view. As it steadily panned back and forth the barrel of its gun tracked slowly across the denizens of the establishment, red targeting beams pulsing from its eye sockets.

‘This ain’t your pulpit, Ecclesiarchy man,’ growled a treasure hunter leaning on the bar, her face half-hidden beneath the broad brim of her hat. One hand held a small glass of yellow liquid; the other was hooked into her belt close to a holstered laspistol.

Hostile eyes regarded the preacher from all directions: many human, some insectoid, one pair just points of ochre light.

‘And I’m not here to preach,’ Taddeus replied, his gaze scanning the room. He smoothed his hands down the front of his vestments, wiping away the settling dust and ash of the drinking hole.

‘Everyone can relax,’ said a rakish man from the far corner, his chair leaning back against the wall, booted feet on the tabletop before him. His garb was of an Imperial noble, frock coat and mock-military stylings. The hide of a xenos beast trailed across his shoulders. A neatly trimmed moustache and oiled hair completed an image of privilege at odds with the unwashed and unkempt denizens that made up the remaining patrons. Almost unseen, he held a long-barrelled duelling pistol in his lap, its muzzle pointing towards the barman.

‘No trouble, not in my cantina,’ the man said, placing both his hands back on the counter, empty.

The servo-stubber lowered, its eyes returning to their dark green dormant state. A few patrons remained with weapons directed at the newcomer.

‘And a round of drinks on my tab!’ Draik declared.

Eyes followed Taddeus as he weaved through the close tables, but the low conversations, glug of drinks poured and clink of glasses slowly resumed as he reached the chair opposite Janus Draik, the rogue trader he had come to meet.

Draik dragged his feet from the table and invited Taddeus to sit with a glance. The rogue trader pushed a glass towards the priest and lifted a clay jug in offer. Taddeus’ lip curled in reply.

‘It’s water,’ said Draik, topping up his own glass. ‘Fresh, not filtered. A shipment arrived this morning, nearly two thousand pints.’

‘It is still a luxury, a weakness,’ said Taddeus, though his tongue could almost taste the untainted liquid, free from the acrid hint of recycling that marred all the water piped through the chambers of Precipice.

‘Perhaps you could bless some of the filtered water, make it taste good,’ said Draik with a half-smile. ‘You call yourself the Purifier, yes?’

Taddeus sat down and did not dignify the poor joke with a reply.

‘Not the talkative type, I see,’ the rogue trader continued, assuming a more businesslike air. ‘Fair enough, I can appreciate that.’

‘Your missive said that you needed my assistance.’

‘It did, and I do.’ Draik leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial level, his eyes darting to the left and right before he continued. ‘I have pieced together one of the routes to the hidden vault we are all seeking.’

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A Black Library Publication

First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd, Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.

Produced by Games Workshop in Nottingham.
Cover illustration by Paul Dainton.

Purity is a Lie © Copyright Games Workshop Limited 2018. Purity is a Lie, Warhammer Quest, GW, Games Workshop, Black Library, The Horus Heresy, The Horus Heresy Eye logo, Space Marine, 40K, Warhammer, Warhammer 40,000, the ‘Aquila’ Double-headed Eagle logo, and all associated logos, illustrations, images, names, creatures, races, vehicles, locations, weapons, characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof, are either ® or TM, and/or © Games Workshop Limited, variably registered around the world.
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ISBN: 978-1-78030-771-8

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