I saw her again, Jen Nikos, she asked me: "Why do you call yourself a Lamenter?"
My response was simple: "The word 'Lament', do you know what it means? It means to mourn. To regret. To remember. That is my duty. I Lament."
She asked what I lament. I lament all the lives I could not save, all the pain others suffered that I could not bear in thier stead. She once more nearly wept, and once more I begged her dry her tears. We spoke for a time. I could not tell you when last I truly spoke with another. I learned much about the town I protect. And the Daemons I protect it from.
Grim. An apt description, and an even apter name, though they spell it Grimm. I cannot fault them for thier oddities, to them it is odd I do not remove my helm.
I saw something troubling today. A horrid mark. The mark of a Traitor. The mark of Heretic. The mark of the IVth legion. Jen was showing me letters sent by her lost child, and among them was an image of the crest of the IVth legion, sketched by hand, the letter said it was borne by the combat instructor. I prayed to Sanguinius and the Emperor that it was just a coincidence. I cannot Lament another world.
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The Last Lamenter
FanfictionFormerly just short story I wrote during a 4 AM bout of insomnia, now something I feel inclined to see through to the end, this is also a supporting text to explain the introduction of a character later on in HoR, because believe it or not, I actual...
