Chapter 1: Into the wild black yonder IC

++Engine Kill++, Ignatio intoned as he watched the Ork ship burn.

He felt his own exultation matched by the confident satisfaction of the Anatem. To the ship, he could feel, this had not been a true challenge, but an opportunity to sharpen capabilities dulled by centuries of disuse.

As the Magos' sense of self slowly returned, he realized that he'd been given a deeper level of access to the Anatem's machine spirit than he ever had before. The legend, that this ancient vessel had been first built in the time of the Emperor, flashed through his mind. Perhaps even at the direction of the Omnissiah himself.

With a burst of binaric supplication, he prayed to the Anatem, pleading for an answer to the question that threatened to overheat his cranial hardware.

++Venerated Anatem Imperabit Mundus, what is your true purpose?++

Pyritefoolsgold wrote:

++Venerated Anatem Imperabit Mundus, what is your true purpose?++

Seemingly endless data streamed through your links, more than your brain to handle in a lifetime. But through it, you felt...a character. An older woman, a grandmother, gird in full plate and with a sword and shield at her side while she carried you in a pack on her back. You had interfaced with dozens of ships, and the machine-spirits of many large facilities; but none had the presence, the conceptual weight of this one. Never before had you felt a machine-spirit so close to a living soul.

"Thank you. I hope your travels are peaceful and safe from here on out." Alexium nodded at Torian satisfied, allowing the Lord Captain to take control of the conversation.

The Magos disconnected from the uplink with a dazed expression, staggering on his landing gear-- no, his legs, as he took a moment to recover from the overwhelming experience.

His attention was drawn by a frustrated tirade from Drivemaster Balfour, reciting to him in Techna Linqua a list of all of the drive systems that had been thrown off balance by Ignatio's efforts, and all of the retrothruster systems that had been pushed to their breaking point to pull off the sharp turns Lord Roderick had demanded of the ship.

Ignoring the Drivemasters' concerns, the Magos spoke to him of what he had seen, sharing flashes of binaric insight he had gleamed from the depths of the Anatem's spirit. And then he spoke of the vision.

++I saw myself moving across a great plane of sand, and as I looked behind myself, I saw a long trail of footprints leading into the distance. As I looked down, I saw that I was not walking, but being carried on the back of an aged and armored woman. She wore a sword and a shield at her side, as she scanned the horizon for any threat.++

++That was what the Anatem showed me when I asked her of her true purpose. Her purpose is to carry me, to carry us, and protect us from harm. And hers was the most powerful, fullest, machine spirit I have ever communed with.++

The Mech-Deacon was somewhat bewildered by this response. ++What does this mean, Magos Pulsanus?++ he asked.

++This confirms my theological theory,++ Ignatio answered. ++That the true, ultimate purpose of every machine is to protect and provide for humanity. May we discuss this further while we address the immediate maintenance needs?++

The eldar pod recovered was a smooth, egg-shaped object about a meter long made of that odd eldar material wraithbone. Summary manipulation made it "deploy" smootly into a form of eldar holoprojector emitting a star-map easily recognizable as local space. There was fine detail & eldar runes regarding nearby systems, but nothing further out save a couple of symbols on star clusters. It would take a bit of time to decode the eldar runes, but it was not an intimidating prospect.

Eldar Map:

Lethia approaches Torian's command throne. She was wary of anything xenos, but at the same time had substancially more trust in the eldar than in the Orks.

"Lord captain. The current flows into two directions from here. We can go galactic northwest or northeast. Judging by the eldar map theyve given us, the orks are heavily concentrated in the northeast. However, due north is the strange beacon I told you about. I-we have a keep interest in that for if we can set up a network of similar beacons, then we can explore beyond the light of the astronomicon and make warp travel much safer. However, in our current predicament I suggest we go back into the warp and head away from the ork presense."

"Safe travels, Craftworld Frutharas. I look forward to our next meeting; hopefully it may again involve destroying ork scum. Anatem outbound."

"Excellent scrying, Lethia. We'll jump Northwestern then, to stay on track with the beacon and try to skirt the worst of the Ork threat for now. Do whatever you need to prepare for jump ASAP.

Roderick, take us back to the Mandeville point. We're done with this system for now."

Torian began to relax his tension, and called the crew off high-alert. He ordered preparation for imminent warp travel.

Lethia heads back towards the Navigators throne above the command deck.

She takes her seat, attended to by lobotomized and blind servitors. The armored shutters retract outside, leaving just a clear barrier between her Navigator's area and the void.
Sighing, she lowers the golden-silk headband to cover her natural eyes, leaving the single mutated eye visible.

It opens, a black-hole that perceived the roiling madness of the warp. To any looking at the eye, it was a pit of insanity and illusion, a savior and a condemner at the same time.

The navigator's estimation had put the real-time transit at 8 days-or about 16 hours in the warp. The strength of the current however was greater than anticipated, and it took only 4.No major events affected the crew, though the some of the Glaceans came to you, somewhat concerned when they where in-warp about strange dreams and odd sensations. Nonetheless, after 8 hours in-warp, you arrived at AE-00317-your destination. As you exited the warp, Lethia could see some measure of the path's continuation-heading in the direction of AE-90001.

AE-00317 Map:

The system was significantly less bountiful than the previous two visited. There was a measly 4 planets-3 rocky, and one anemic gas giant without a single major moon. Perhaps there had once been many more-two large asteroid belts, mostly silicate rocks, circled the system in its outer reaches, perhaps remnants of some long-lost planet. The two furthest rocky worlds where hellish infernos, venusian lands of volcanism, molten rock and toxic atmospheres. The planet closest to the sun, though, was the most notable: from a distance, its surface seemed to move and writhe organically. In the warp, both Lethia and Alexium could sense it: a Daemon-World, devoured by the warp. This was a system that would likely need to be avoided in the future, for the sanity of all.
_____________________________________________

A noospheric message arrived for the Enginseer-Prime:

++Sir, we have sufficient data to start the triangulation. We are starting to get some data, and we believe there is only a single system that fits the coordinates estimated. We have marked it on the star-map. A bit less than 200 LY away.++

Region Map:

Roderick looked pale at the thought of infinite writhing death and horror on the Daemonworld. "Let's get the fook out of here"

Ignatio spent most of the time in the warp overseeing the extra maintenance required after the ship battle, especially of the retro-thrusters he had overworked, as he promised Drivemaster Balfour in exchange for listening to his extended arguments. A good thing, too, as apparently a sudden course change was needed in the warp.

Once they arrived, he split his attention between the sensor reports of the system and the signal given by the warp probe, and with three vectors to work with quickly calculated the direction the signal was pointing.

The warp-travel was again fairly uneventfull and fairly rapid, taking a mere 4 hours real-time and a single hour in the warp. The distant light source was becoming clearer, and could easily be used to travel by within a given distance of it.

Map-AE90001:

The system itself was fairly mundane. 5 worlds, with 3 gassy ones. The rocky ones where mostly cold, though they could have potential for mining. Several gas-giant moons seemed to have atmosphere-with 5-A showing some signs of clorophyl in its seas and near rivers. Tough most of the world was covered in ice and snow, it was clearly habitable. The most notable feature in the system was likely the derelict eldar space-station in the primary biosphere, obrbiting just before an asteroid belt.

"Jump complete" Lethia voxes the command deck.
She activates the shutters on her station, closing off the navigator's spire from the void.

There would be more jumps ahead, she knew. She was glad that they were making it ever so closer to the mini-astronomicon. Her desire to plumb the depths of its secrets was an ever present drain on the captain. Its not that she wanted to pester him with demands, but its potential could have nothing but positive benefits for the imperium of man.

Her blind servitor-attendants help peel her from the throne that dominated the room.
"Enough." she waves them off of her an they back into their own dark alcoves to wait further instructions.
She covers her third eye and blinks open her human ones. She then coveres herself with her cloack again and heads towards the command deck.

Torian called for the standard system-scans for their records. "Roderick, bring us in-system. Let's take a look at 5-a to see if there's anything worth noting, then take a look at that station. Bren, you've got a few days to put a small team together to accompany us to the station. Get some looting teams and a security team prepped."

Alexium had spent the majority of the last jump in their quarters, quietly meditating on their last session with Sir Reginald Darkhorse. The Caged Songbird never left Alexium's side during Warp jumps, and the two had conversed when possible about the newest mental discipline.

As it was still so new, Alexium only understood it partially. It worked as either a personal blanket for themselves or a shared-experiential projection of Alexium's skill and knowledge. The child's good luck charm, the Novamarine Astartes doll of solid construction, was the fetish around which it revolved. And the best part was that there were more out there. They just had to find them.

+++

They approached the bridge ready to explore the new system. Torian was just finishing up orders for the day. The Eldar station looked extremely inticing.

"Now you don't see one of those every day. Bren, if I may. Please alert your insertion teams to be on the lookout for any Astartes figurines... dolls... err... no... action figures. Like this," They quickly pulled out their charm and showed all assembled.

"Apparently the collector's editions unlock deep rooted powers within me. Who'd have thought?" They shrugged and smiled wildly.

"As for the station itself, after we strip it, what's the plan? Wraithbone could be useful to myself and Lethia - its psychic channeling properties are evident, if not largely not yet understood. Could also be a useful bargaining chip for our new Eldar friends to give them some clout in the region - not to mention act as an unofficial recon outpost for us, should they decide to bring it back to operational status."

Lethia let her mind concentrate on any psychic anomalies.

She wasn't as attuned to the empire and as Alexium, his astrotelepathic gifts just made it easier for him that her navigators mutation was for her. It didn't mean that she couldn't, or shouldn't focus her senses further. Who knows, maybe she would pick up something interesting.

Sylphilis wrote:

Lethia let her mind concentrate on any psychic anomalies.

The system was fairly barren. There where no great sparks of psychic anomalies, no great upwellings of souls representing large communities, no psykers staring into the void. If there where humans living here, they where few in number or very spread-out.

While the ship was in transit through normal space, Magos Pulsanus took the opportunity to put more work into preparing the archeocogitator for activation and investigation. These preparations needed to be carried out in secret, which required a great deal of his personal time.

By now a small, sealed chamber had been prepared, and Ignatio worked at providing the cogitator with adequate power to function, and constructed an interface shrine which would allow him to access it without subjecting his mind to an unknown machine spirit of this level of power.

The ship skated towards AE90001-5, using the multiple moons gravities to slingshot towards 5-A, allowing a little time to do quick scans of the other local moons. While not enough to do a full scan for the administratum, it did show that moons B, C & D had abundant untapped mineral ressources, including some exotic materials if the readings where to be trusted.

The scanners generated their usual hex-zone analysis printout.

Map-AE-90001 5A:

AE90001 5-A itself though was a classic example of a dying or near-dead world. 40% of the world's surface was covered with oceans, with large ice caps covering the north and south axes of the world. The world itself was fairly cold, at an average of -5 C, but the oceans seemed to average out at about 2 C, with the zones around this world's few rivers-likely originating from hot-springs-averaging out at 16 C. Much of the surface was covered in what appeared to be long-dead forests, once rotting but now frozen. The planet did, however, have abundant mineral ressources- plentiful industrial, radioactive and ornemental sources, and sustainable exotic materials. A large island near the equator showed evidence of long-collapsed hive towers, with the returns suggesting they might be jaicro ruins (Ruins symbol). On that same island there where some unexplained readings however-an area of several square km was being read as congealed fat and protein-as if the terain where made of frozen meat (Red skull). The cogitators strained to find an answer that made sense, but none could be generated. There where also strips of terrain in that zone and elsewhere that showed signs of crater-glassing; this would be indicative of either high-temp cosmic disaster or some form of orbital lance-fire.

The human presence was, as could be expected from the psychic scans, minimal. Tiny, heavily fortified settlements dotted the unfrozen moors near the coasts and those few still-flowing rivers, with none showing enough life-signs to be beyond 300 inhabitants.

A verification of the data showed that the southernmost town seemed to have the largest spread-the castle-like structure had a proper town built around it-though it was impossible to tell how densely inhabited it was from orbit.

"Bren, task a crew as guard for us. Roderick, get some pilots prepping our landers. If we can get them willing to leave quickly, I want to be in and out of this moon." He then called the officer corps party to meet at an acquilla lander, and strapped on his armor and camocloak. This was unlikely to need formalwear.

While Ignatio worked, his servo skull on the bridge commented "I expect that exploring the Jaicro ruins will be significantly profitable, Lord Captain, though it will not necessarily be expedient."

While inloading the sensor data into his cogitator, the Magos wrapped up his latest ritual of preparation for the archaeo-cogitator. The opportunity for discovery of that ancient relic's mysteries was something that would need to wait a bit longer.

Tech priests charged with the maintenance of his meltagun and hellgun met him at the lighter bay, and they went through a minor ritual of armament while waiting for everything to be made ready.

The aquila lander and two shuttles flew down into the atmosphere. The atmosphere was clear, though it remained somewhat foggy on the surface. Once in-atmosphere, the light was dim, so far away this world was from its sun. As you flew over the town, it was clear that most of it was in a state of severe disrepair. The buildings furthest from the central castle where in the worse state of disrepair, and some further in had been knocked down to make way for fields of a sickly-looking black grain. It was also clear from this position that the large black splotches you had seen from orbit where in fact plant life-algea, trees and grasses having evolved to absorb as much light as possible from the dank, distant sun. Clearly your arrival had caused some consternation-you could see from the viewports that a number of humans had fled into the dilapidated town to the large, castle-like construction in the center.

Landing would be difficult however-most of the ground surrounding the town was marshy and humid, unlikely to support the weight of a shuttle.

Lethia watches the indigenous humans scatter from the landers through the viewports.

I expected a dead settlement based off the readings. I doubt these people will have any thing useful to offer us....."

She wondered briefly wether there might be a psyker among them that she had not sensed. Alexium had not sensed anything either so It was a good bet her reading had been accurate.

As Ignatio sifted through the sensor data in search of a valid landing site, he turned to Lethia as she spoke her doubts about the locals assets.

"All functional human minds understand the value of knowledge, Navigator, and seek to accumulate it. These people possess knowledge that we do not, and the possession and understanding of that knowledge may prove far more beneficial to us than any material contribution they could make."

To Torian's question, he answered "Preparations for the initial investigations will be complete in several days. Such things cannot be rushed, Lord Captain."

As the shuttle swept the soggy ground, he was eventually able to identify a suitable landing zone. He accessed the shuttle pilot's datascreen and outlined the area in question.

"The ground at this location appears adequately solid to support a shuttle landing. The pattern of stone inclusion in the soil is consistent with primitive habitation units, which suggests that the flooding of this area is a recent phenomenon."

The shuttles landed on the spongy terrain that nonetheless supported their weight. The flooding was likely permanent-this small section was merely a bit more elevated than the swamp. As you walked out, there was no-one to greet you beyond the croaking of batracians in the nearby swamp and the buzzing mosquitoes. The sky, despite being midday, was fairly dark-about a fifth the light you would have had in the primary biosphere.

To your north-west lied the down, dark and moist.

Lethia can immediately smell the stink of fresh, non-recyc air.

She looks around, flora and fauna did not stand out from dozens of other worlds. The noise could be tuned into the background, but it would never replace the comforting hum of a ship plying the void.

"Ok, so we're here. There is no welcoming committee from the locals, and not a single delicacy in sight."

She lets our a sigh of disappointment,
"At least there are no chaos minions to greet us either."

Torian gave several short, quick orders to get the medic on standby, bring out a bundle of ration-packs and a large container of fresh water, and to keep weapons holstered. He then gestured the party and accompanying honor guard forward. He led them into town, past several buildings quite likely to contain villagers, but did not stop to bother them. He reached what seemed like a good point close to the castle, something resembling a town square in this dying damp shithole. He found a medium sized rock, put one leg up on the rock and leaned over his knee like an explorer of old. He projected his voice outwards at the loudest volume possible without shouting, "It is I, Torian of the Dynasty Filianatis, Captain of the Voidship Anatem, and these are my loyal crew! Whose castle is this, that I may offer courteous greetings and bestow generous gifts?"

Alexium had on more practical attire as this was no summit to decide the fate of a planet. Their backpack and armor was on over traveling clothing. A simple green silk scarf was wrapped around their head, hiding their burnt out eyes.

"Hmm, maybe we should reconsider going halfsies on that time-share here, Hot Rod,". The joke at the expense of the less-than-hospitable planet was all too easy. They kept a keen awareness for movement around the party; it was expected of course, but from the state of the place, they had to wonder if the locals might not look at them as though they were a meal.

"If they choose not to leave this place with us, at the very least, we should offer these people some rations and clean water or medicine. I know we aren't in the business of charity, but I can't help but feel something terrible befell this place. Shocking, I know."

Several simple slugthrower rifles could be seen on the crenelations, though from their occasional shifting the people on the wall where clearly not confident in their use. A few kettle helmets popped over the edge, clearly showing people trembling in their boots. After a seconds, a man wearing a tricorner hat and black robes, with two revolver pistols at his hips, climbed up to the parapet. He spoke in an odd low gothic dialect similar to that of the glaceans.

I'm Reeve Dagum, the law in these here parts. This is the holdfast of the town of Blackwheat. You'll forgive my depu-ties, they are a bit too fond of the virtue of cowardice. Our experiences with ya sky people typically aint so cordial. So what can we do ya for in exchange for them gifts? I know well enough to avoid the sin o' hope to think it'll be for nothin.

Alexium stepped forward. These people were clearly cowards with a traumatic past. It might ease them a bit to see what appeared to be a child among the newcomers. They nod at Torian as he finishes and add:

"Greetings, fair people. Please, do not be alarmed. I am sorry to hear you've had previous troubles from outsiders. Would you be willing to tell us more about them? Perhaps we can help you defend against them in the future."

Looking at Torian, the Dagum said:

Well, I didnt understand half of what ya said, but it seems harmless enough. And about helping our safety, well, such things would be appreciated. If ya'll agree to have them blades and pistols peace-bonded for yer stay, we can go and talk somewhere less humid. What say ya?

Ignatio stepped forward immediately at the mention of peace-bonding.

"I am the caretaker of the machines we carry," he announced at a higher volume than his normal speaking vox. "Please explain your 'peace-bonding' process."

Well basically, I'll use these ropes and wax seals to bind yer weapons to their scabards and holsters. And an oath on yer honor not to use em'

He lifted up crude, organic-fiber ropes of a greyish color.

The Magos zoomed in on the items in the Reeve's hand, and then turned to Torian. "I do not believe that this process will damage our weapons, Lord Csptain, however I will require observation as it is performed."

The Reeve dissapeared behind the parapet, and after a minute the doors started to open. The reeve came out, with a couple of twitchy-looking deputies behind him. He came to tie your weapons into their holders, one by one, sealing the final knot with a glob of hot wax.

Well, follow me.

The Reeve started guiding you into the castle. In the open space past the gate you could see a large, straight stake surrounded by a circle of stone-the ash on the ground indicating something had been burned there in the recent past. The buildings inside where well-maintained, though fairly small. You could recognize many primitive workshops, people baking and cooking. There where few voices in the noise-everyone seemed to be quiet & dour, looking at you briefly then returning to their tasks. As an unusual feature, a channel of water seemed to go through, and as you approached the Reeve noticed something and gave a hand-sign to pause.

Give me a second...

He walked towards a man who seemed to be in the channel, trying to chisel something off of a grating at the far end of the channel.

Bobert, how goes it?

"The usual guff Reeve, Metal barnacles growing big enough to block the channel. Think I'm gonna have to do a daily clean from now on, its getting impossible to remove."

Good on you Bobert, keep along.

A quick look below showed that the "metal barnacles" appeared to be cristalline metallic formations there where adhering to the iron rods of the grate. The reeve returned to you.

Well, lets keep goin.

He brought you across the channel over a stone bridge, and guided you to a side-door on what appeared to be the dongeon. He opened the door, which showed a smallish room a few meters in size, which unnacountable included a small kitchen, a dining table, and a single, large bed-all scrupulously clean. Things would be tight. The Reeve spoke to a woman inside:

Mae, we've got guests, could ya prepare a little somethin'?

The plain woman in a simple, loose dress spoke up in a sweet voice.

Oh sur' Dagum, I've goat a loaf just about ready to come out of the oven. I'll use the nice plates and cups. Though you all, please wash your boots outside first, wont have you traking mud in my home.

I would listen good folk, she's all my satisfaction but she's a right terror when you track mud inside. I'll give ya a hand.


The reeve helped you clean your boots with a large brush and a bucket of water from the channel. Finally he led you into his abode.

The children playing with the Melrics?

Oh ya, they've got hunting for Armor salamander tadpoles.

The woman, wearing oven mitts, took out a loaf that, to your eyes, appeared to be a deep matte black. When she took her knife however and started cutting, it appeared to have the regular consistency-with a thick black crust and a dark grey interior. Despite its unnapetising appearance it did smell like actual fresh bread. After cutting a few slices and putting them on a plate, she took a small bowl which she filled with oil, throwing in salt alongside some blackish leaves and dried spices. She set the whole thing on the table.

Well, I'll leave ya to yer wordly discussions, I've gotta go get the kids for lunch.

She left out the front door, while the reeve sat at the table, took a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil, quickly eating it.

So much better when its fresh. Well folks, what can I try to inform ya on? I've got a working knowledge of this place, but I'll admit to being somewhat ignorant of larger words, not being much of a scholar.

Ignatio proceeded through the town as the rest did, observing everything with a cybernetically keen eye and recording it for later analysis. When the Reeve stopped to address the man dealing with the 'metal barnacles', the Magos announced "I will collect a sample of this 'barnacle'" and sent his servo-skull down to scrape some of the crystal off and seal it in a small specimen container.


He observed the various requirements of guests without complaint, and when food was out out in front of them, he took a piece and dipped it as the Reeve had, turning away as he slotted it into his oral cavity to prevent the man from being too disturbed by it.

"This world was once much warmer. We desire to know what has caused it's cooling, whether the temperature continues to fall, and whether the process can be reversed. We also observed an anomaly in that direction." He pointed in the direction of the frozen flesh, and stated it's distance from Blackwheat.

"We also desire to know what relationship the various human settlements have with each other, their systems of government, and why their populations are so limited."

The reeve took a pipe out of his jacket, tamped down some dried leaves inside and set it aflame, breathing in a long draught before speaking.

For the temperature, well, the tales say that in the distant past man was powerful and prideful, lived without want in silver towers. Overcome with the cardinal sins of courage, hope, love and passion, as well as the lesser sins of hate, ambition, sloth and lust. This attracted the attention of the gods who, above all else, despise mankind, especially when they attempt to usurp their sinful power. So they sent a horde of monsters who cast them down, with only those fortunate enough to be in the wilderness surviving. So they hid, staying away from sin lest they attract the eyes of the gods, as the paradise their ancestors had built turned cold without their ancient power.

He took another puff from the pipe.

Or say the raconteurs say. I've seen the stone forests in the wastelands, but no real signs of the "ancient's power". There are rumors of a cursed island to the north-west, the seat of the ancients, but I know little more.

He took another puff from the pipe, letting out the smoke from his nostrils.

As for goverment, well, there used to be the castellans. They got slaughtered by sky people a few decades ago. They invaded, took control of the towns, and got mad when they realised we had nothin' of value to them. They still come by once in a while to take shots at our towns, but the castle has kept us safe. Now, there's just people like me. We keep the law, make sure to handle disagreements, that sort o' thing. Though to be fair, cant say about other towns, I've yet to visit one, though the travelling tinkers talk.

He took another puff from the pipe, letting the smoke out of a corner of his mouth.

The attack didn't hurt us that bad. The castellans and their kin died, but few else. What really been a problem is mutation. Always something to fear-curse of the gods and all that-but its been increasing since my great-great grandfather's time. A lot of good folk burned because their loins and wombs where polluted. Lot of children missing to replace their parents.

Torian listened quietly. After the sheriff finished speaking, he interjected: "If we turned on the power of the ancients, would you want to go back to how they lived? If you could leave this world behind, would you? What sort of mutations take place? Do any folk go mad?"

As he spoke, he gestured for an attendant to give the sheriff a ration-pack from the ship: a gesture of goodwill.

thepooreconomist wrote:

Torian listened quietly. After the sheriff finished speaking, he interjected: "If we turned on the power of the ancients, would you want to go back to how they lived? If you could leave this world behind, would you? What sort of mutations take place? Do any folk go mad?"

As he spoke, he gestured for an attendant to give the sheriff a ration-pack from the ship: a gesture of goodwill.

No, the ancients where a foul, sinful people. We will be safer staying calmly in our own towns.

He took another puff of the pipe.

As for the mutations... little things mostly. Deformed skulls, extra fingers or toes, hunch backs, extra limbs, even a one-eyed baby once. All as infants, of course. Yet to see any madness though.

"So, you burn them for being deformed?"

Alexium knew all too well the threat of renegade psykers. In fact, they harbored a deep-seated hatred for such beings. But this did not sound like that. This sounded like a bunch of bumpkins setting fire to people because they looked different.

Mutation is accursed. It breeds true, and makes men into monsters. Those few who live wander the swamps, attacking travelers and devouring their flesh. Would you suckle such a monster at your breast?

His voice remained monotone, no emotion coming out in his speech.