Absolom stubbornly hobbled near the back of Titus' company, a newly-assigned cleric hovering a mere pace away. The healing the Arch-mage's clerics had wrought on him had been enough to replace the majority of his skin, but not enough to repair the actually damage done to his flesh. Beneath the puckered swaths of scar tissue Absolom's formed looked ragged and misshapen, stripped so close to the bone that he really did look like a skeleton. Moving was painful, and all but impossible without his cane. That he had kept up with the Legion this long was a testament to his willpower, and to the resourcefulness of the woman who Malik had assigned to watch him like a hawk.<br/><br/>The clerics had wanted to keep the Skeleton in triage, claiming that there was a chance they could repair his broken body with a little time. Absolom had known they were bullshitting at best; in all likelihood they wanted to use him as a test subject for some of their more clandestine side-projects, or work at removing the soulsteel mask that was now permanently fused to his face. He told them as much as he had indignantly marched out of their tents, clothed only in his mask and new skin. One of their tactics for keeping him there had included denying him clothes to replace those seared off. They had not banked on him having no sense of shame. Malik had not been happy, but then again the man didn't really seem capable of the emotion. 'Mildly less annoyed' was about as close as he ever got.<br/><br/>The... incident at Talara had left the Arch-mage leery of dealing with the Skeleton. A spellcaster who survived a brush with the Warp was a touchy subject. There were two parts of the other side of the Veil; the Other Side, and the Warp. The Other Side was the classic depiction of the afterlife, grey and formless. It was almost like an ocean in the wake of a storm. Souls that went here were drawn from the stock of the common man, those who had not actively weighed down their spirits with murder and hate. The Warp on the other hand was the domain of the darker side, a churning abyss of every negative facet of life. Where the Other Side was populated with will-o-wisps, the Warp was infested with the daemonic predators of the afterlife.  A spellcaster could draw a bit of power from the Other Side, reaching out to borrow some of the immaterial. There was no risk to it, but the power drawn was negligible. Most didn't bother with it, at least until the strain of spell casting began to age them and they realized the cost.<br/><br/>Drawing from the Warp was another matter.<br/><br/>To touch the churning madness was to risk being burned. To channel it was to invite in the devil. The predators of the Warp could piggyback the flow of a spellcaster channeling the chaos in order to reenter the material world, albeit limited to possessing the offending spellcaster. These were the Daemonhosts. They were humans within whom a daemon has nested a portion of its being and power. Like a vile growth it would grow in potency and influence until it overwhelmed the unfortunate human, and then the daemon would be born into the physical world in a birthing of pain, horror, and shattered dreams. This process of gestation, from infection to the daemon being unleashed from the fetters of the vessel’s flesh, wass a long battle of wills in which the daemon’s nature began to subsume that of the human vessel. Eventually, the daemon broke down its vessel’s will until there was nothing left that wass human except, maybe, the tiniest mote of consciousness screaming endlessly and silently in pain.<br/><br/>How a daemon found a human vessel was a matter of chance and opportunity, but always began with contact between the vessel and the power of the Warp. It could be a glance into a cursed mirror, a wound from a daemon sword, a stray daydream of power and ruination in a profane temple. However, no matter what it was, once the daemon has its barbs hooked into the flesh of a warm human vessel, the road to a tragic catastrophe had begun. Once the seed has been planted, it could take some time for the human vessel to realise what had happened to him. Strange occurrences and the spontaneous manifestation of unnatural powers together with a growing malignancy of being would lead him eventually to realise what was happening to him, what he was becoming.<br/><br/>During this time of sublimation, a human vessel would often try to resist the onset of the daemon’s power, or he believe that he could control it and bend it to his will. Indeed, many who became vessels to daemons could suppress or unleash the power of the daemon, but to hope that they could truly control the abomination that was encysted within them was a wishful lie. Every attempt to leash the daemon within would bring its time closer and all that was certain was its time will come. Over time the power of the Daemon Vessel would grow, and the humanity of the vessel withered faster and faster while the daemon within bubbled to the surface more frequently and potently. At the last, when there is no will left to stop it, the daemon would rip into existence with an exultant cry and be free to wreak unmeditated and unrestricted havoc in the realm of matter and flesh.<br/><br/>There were processes that could save a Host from their fate, although the salvation came at a steep cost. an Exorcism was a brutal process of ritually casting out a daemon, unclean spirit, or warp entity that has taken possession of a person, place, or object. People who have had their body and mind slaved to a thing from beyond —and then had that parasite ripped from them— were left with the withered remnants and deep scars in both mind and soul, and were never the same again. Many died from the shock, and more took their own lives shortly after rather than live with the relics of the possession. However, those who did survive being exorcised and could endure the scars they bore were steeled against the corrupting influences of the warp, their minds and bodies fortified against further posession. Many who had been exorcised claimed to be able to see the smeared traces of corruption around them, to feel the ebb and flow of the warp nearby, and to hear the thoughts of daemons as maddening whispers in their minds.<br/>The process of exorcism was not one commonly undertaken. Instances of full bodily possession were usually so dangerous and potentially corrupting to others that the possessed was simply executed. The exorcism itself was a ritual in which the exorcists commanded the daemon to leave by the power of the gods, and compeled the daemon further by naming it with its true name. It was an undertaking fraught with risk to both the exorcists and the possessed subject: the daemon within would use any means to prevent being cast out, and many who had attempted an exorcism of a powerful daemon had perished or been possessed themselves in the process.<br/><br/>Even if the exorcism succeeded, the host could still die from the shock of the daemon’s withdrawal from his body, or be so broken in mind and spirit that he was granted the final peace. A few managed to regain their humanity and sanity, but once you have been possessed by a daemon, you are never quite whole again. Most rational authorities would shrink from even allowing an exorcised person to live, and most would advocate confining them for the rest of their lives, but the effectiveness of a one-time host and vessel for a daemon in the battle against the manifold enemies of mankind was without doubt. Cold and disconnected from empathy or emotion, an exorcised human was disturbing and ruthless as well as being highly resistant to the influences of both the warp and magic.<br/><br/>Subsequently, Absolom's brush with the Warp pointed down a dangerous path. The Arch-mage had given the Skeleton a tentative clean bill of health, but the young cleric now assigned to him was capable of both watching him through deathsight -although the clerics referred to it as Astral Vision- and killing him with a well-placed dagger. Absolom knew her by reputation; the girl was looked innocent, but in another life she had been a fixer for the local gangsters. Her common refrain was 'I'll kill you before you even realize you're dead', and as cliched a line as it was Absolom actually believed she could achieve it. Her Banner was terrifying. At the least she had kept his pain from overwhelming him, dulling the agony whenever he began to stumble.<br/><br/>And he stumbled often. The Skeleton knew that he should not have ventured out with the main force, he was going to be a liability. But he could not bring himself to remain behind. Something drove him to follow the Legion, to delve into the dark corners of the world. It was a gnawing hunger, chewing at the edge of his consciousness. He had fought with every fiber of his being to be allowed to march, although it had only been when Caine had pulled Inquisition authority again that Command finally acquiesced. Not gracefully either.<br/><br/>Caine was an odd addition to the Legion. She was an unsettling point of calm in the tumult beyond the Veil, lulling the magically uninclined into a kind of hypnotic congeniality. Aside from their basic distaste for POGs, most of the Legionnaires treated her better than then did each other. The magically inclined on the other hand found her unnerving, a dead zone for their powers. Absolom found the spiritual calm rejuvenating, but that was simply the manifestation of his recent trauma. He didn't know what Titus thought of the Inquisitor's minion, but the assassin-cleric at his side kept muttering profanities.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>After hours of marching, the XIV entered a vast cavern. Smooth-walled and illuminated by a venerable forrest of gargantuan luminescent mushrooms, the entire structure was peppered with thousands of slim bolt-holes and passages. Absolom growled uneasily, glancing to the Cleric at his side.<br/><br/>"Sister Emi, please get those daggers you're so fond of ready. I'm having an uneasy flashback to my childhood. And that ended with a great deal of explosions." He shuddered.<br/>"Oh Dad. I've found you're damn cathedral to the Great Mushroom. I am sooooo glad you're not around anymore."