Editing Nobledark Imperium Notable People (section)

==Ciaphas Cain==

<div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' <s>HERO OF THE IMPERIUM</s> Chew Toy of the Universe: '''''

Cain still did many of the same things he is known for in canon. As of the last few decades his most recent assignment is to act as the ambassador from the greater Imperium to Craftworld Biel-Tan. This is less a permanent position and more like the latest clusterfuck Cain has found himself in his long history of clusterfucks. Ciaphas Cain and the Warriors of Biel-Tan, if you’d like. Jurgen is currently travelling as part of Inquisitor Amberly Vail’s retinue, since you would have to be crazy to take a blank onto a Craftworld full of psykers. Jurgen came to the attention of the Inquisition all on his own in this timeline, but Jurgen and Cain still end up working together quite often because Amberley likes to drag Cain along on her merry adventures and she never goes anywhere without Jurgen. Cain still ends up ploughing Amberley Vail after a joint eldar-human gene-stealer hunting trip and extermination campaign. Vail tends to spend way too much time around Biel-Tan than would be expected of an Inquisitor, though if asked she claims she was afraid Cain had gone native and it was her duty to remind him he was human.

<div class="mw-collapsible-content">
 
Because Cain was unable to take Jurgen with him onto Biel-Tan, the job of ambassador's assistant is taken by Edmond Aldsworth, a prim and proper Alfred Pennyworth type person from the Scholar Progenium. Alfred was not in that most august of institutions learning to be a diplomat. He was in there learning to be a Storm Trooper. He has done work for the Inquisition and occasionally tells of some of the things he has done. Unbeknownst to Cain or most of Biel-Tan is that he used to do crazy shit like hunt dark Eldar slave takers through the underhives and eliminate ork kommandoz. He has in his closet a necklace of ork trigger finger bones that looks more like a bandolier. To everyone that works with him man and xeno he is just a neat man with grey hair and a fussy little moustache.
 
A large part of Ambassador Cain's job is to keep Biel-Tan calm to stop them from going all out total war and dragging the rest of the Imperium into conflicts it can't easily afford. Indeed, Cain’s strong sense of self-preservation in spite of his war record is probably one of the main reasons (besides fate’s sick sense of humor) he was assigned to Biel-Tan in the first place. The Biel-Tan autarchs are also old and wise enough to want some brakes on the war train, but they’re also smart enough to let Cain voice the unpopular opinion and take the blame for it. This venture is not helped at all by the presence of Abbess-General Miriam Cain, Ciaphas’ daughter with Jubblowski. Everyone assumes that Cain met Jubblowski at party and used his legendary charm to get into her bedroom. He did not. As slayer of a warboss, butcher of tyranids and general all around Hero of the Imperium his presence was requested/demanded by the Sororitas high ups.
 
Abbess-General Cain is a hardcore Katholian Sister of Battle that has close ties to a group of about ~150 Word Bearers or Word Bearer successor chapter whose fortress-monastery is in the same patch of the galaxy as Biel-Tan. Miriam Cain was directly responsible (first came to prominence?) for the victories against the ork horde of Warboss Fangjaw during his assault on Necromunda. Her rhetoric, promises of redemption and threats of retribution turned the gangers into a loose collection of ad hoc militias with her own soldiers acting as officers, advisors, tutors and commissars as needed. Of course she was also directly to blame for the sudden increase in competence of the gangers in Necromunda post-war but at least everyone was alive enough to bitch at her.
 
Years pass and Miriam Cain becomes Abbess-General Cain, and becomes leader of entire chapter of Word Bearers, some regiments of Imperial Army and a small fleet of ships tasked with patrolling section of space not far enough away from Biel-Tan for her father’s liking. Her military authority is derived from the second part of that title despite her standing in the Katholian Church due to the Imperium’s official ban on militarized religious institutions. A power armoured, foul mouthed, belligerent crusader who takes the existence of Orks as a personal insult. Refuses to use any equipment not made by an ordained tech-priest and sanctified. Willing to tolerate eldar and such xenos but won't use their stuff. Has a meat cleaver of power sword in one hand and plasma pistol in the other. Her physique is surprisingly short and broad given how tall her father is. She is not conventionally beautiful. Her face has seen too many blunt impacts to be pretty and her shoulders are too broad and her musculature too developed to be feminine, even compared to other Sisters of Battle.
 
The Eldar of Biel-Tan quite approve of her despite the fact that she has no real love for them. However, while Ciaphas Cain’s job is primarily to calm Biel-Tan down, Miriam Cain on the other hand spends all of her time bullying the Word Bearers she is assigned to into fighting harder and is more than willing to extend this into whipping Biel-Tan into a war-frenzy. This being Biel-Tan a lot of Miriam’s rhetoric resonates with them and it's incredibly easy to get them dreaming of conquest. This was perhaps at its worst after Dorhai’s failed assassination attempt on Jubblowski, which had both Miriam and Biel-Tan frothing at the mouth ready to declare holy war.
 
Ciaphas Cain and Miriam Cain do not get along. Despite it all he is proud of her.

Surprisingly, although seen as the glorified HERO OF THE IMPERIUM by many, nearly everyone who knows Ciaphas Cain on a personal level (including much of Biel-Tan) seems to be aware of the truth of Cain’s so-called cowardice except Cain himself. It is very hard for an outsider to keep a secret on a Craftworld full of psykers. Many of the youth of Biel-Tan who have had a glimpse into Cain’s mind are at first confused. The Imperium and the Craftworld elders described the Imperial diplomat was a great warrior, but this does not seem to be the mind of a great warrior. However, upon further reflection, many have had an epiphany over this apparent disconnect. Although Biel-Tan may be the most aggressive and warlike Craftworld, it’s unblooded youth are as afraid of death and war as anyone else. Yet here is this human, who despite accomplishing numerous heroic deeds and staring death in the face several times, is still just as terrified about the possibility of dying as the rest of them. Despite this when duty calls he still saddles up and heads out anyway. Cain is brave because of his fear, not in spite of it, and the fact that such a distinguished figure can still be afraid is a comforting thought to the untested youth of Biel-Tan. Some Biel-Tan youngbloods go so far as to say Ulthwé can go stuff all that rhetoric about the underhanded Creed being an autarch of humanity. It’s Cain, if anyone, who should be considered a human autarch.

Cain doesn't yet know about the [[Nobledark_Imperium_Imperial_Forces#The_Avatar_of_Biel-Tan|active Avatar]] underneath his feet. All he knows is that he was assigned to the diplomat to the most aggressive and warlike Craftworld who for some unknown reason got even more aggressive after his posting there, and chalks it up to the typical Cain luck. It will be an interesting day, to say the least, when Cain finds out about Khaine.
</div>
</div>

=== Edmond Aldsworth ===

Edmond Aldsworth started as many in the besieged Imperium as the child of dead officers, one among billions. Although the Imperium is not flawless by any measure one of the things it does do well is looking after it's own and the child Edmond found a home in the Schola Progenium of Mordia. He was a robust child with broad shoulders, very upright posture and features one might consider handsome in an aloof sort of way. He excelled in his studies in regards to language but mostly what he was good at was the application of violence which he did with a great level of precision. He was a very passable marksman who found the notion of "full-auto spray" upsetting on some level and much preferred to pick his targets carefully so as to conserve ammunition, incoming fire whipping and hissing around him he would stand unflappable carefully lining up a killing shot. He also excelled at knife-fighting and scrumball, or at least he would have excelled at scrumball had he been able to understand that "full contact sport" did not mean impromptu boxing match. Bare Knuckle Boxing being another sport he was proficient at.

In the end it was decided that he was too smart academically to be placed in the Storm Troopers but lacked the temperament for either the Arbiters or the Commissairiant and was destined for the Inquisitorial Soldier Pool.

In this capacity he made somewhat of a reputation for himself, being both smart and capable although his headstrong nature and tendency to be vocal when he believed his superiors in error ensured that he never made it past corporal. From age 18 to his 40s he served well and with some minor distinction bouncing from mission to mission, squad to squad. He was fluent in both the High Tongue of the Beil-Tan Eldar and in the crude tongue of Base Orkish alongside High Gothic and some level of competence in a few low gothics and with the work of the Inquisition being what it is the need for translators at every level of operation is always high.

He achieved notoriety in his mid to late 40s in the events of the 4th War for Armageddon when the local forces of the Inquisition were commandeered/donated for the increased need for the war effort in the emergency. By the time that Corporal Aldsworth and the hastily formed regiments he was part of arrived most of the planet was already serious trouble. His regimental Stormbird landing craft was shot two dozen miles beyond the walls of Hive Infernus and they lost half their number in the crash and the mad dash to relative safety. They met up with the other equally bedraggled Inquisition Regiments and the PDF who looked like they hadn't seen sleep in a week and a decent meal in a month. Half dead and totally exhausted they all fought bravely and with what cornered rat like defiance they still had but the futilely of it was plain. Infernus was lost and as the walls of the last sanctum were breached like rats they were indeed. Overlord von Strab had been for decades and maybe centuries appointing foppish dandy boys of his liking to positions of authority in the PDF and using the officer ranks as a social club for aristocrats with delusions of adequacy. When those wall broke it was a scene Corporal Aldsworth hoped never to see again in his lifetime. Masses of humanity climbing on each others backs to escape, the soldiers without direction as their cowardly masters fled, his own forces being forced to form an orderly retreat to the blessedly empty storm drains and trying in vain to herd the fear maddened few civilians to relative safety.

The day after that there was maybe half a regiment ad hoc of the best of the surviving PDF and elements of the Inquisition's forces exiting the storm drain by the banks of the river miles down-stream under cover of a moonless night. Never had Edmond known such shame to have survived when others had not. The Comms man of the PDF, carrying a back mounted and still miraculously working long range comm unit picked up intermittent transmissions from far off Hades Hive through the static and ork chatter and so with duty and survival on their minds they set off on the long, long march to Hades.

By great good fortune most of the Infernus survivors made it, even managing to absorb a few other survivors along the way and scrag a few ork patrols which did wonders for everyone's spirits in those dark and fearful months. Eventually they reached the hive, and as if divine providence it's gates had been cleared just that morning by Kill Krazii and other tribesmen of the Ashlands, with their ten thousand strong host the few hundred soldiers were unnoticed as they signed in.

The locals were manning the walls, a duty they had grown familiar with by now, and the Ashlanders were not used to warfare that was standing still or confined and so patrolled the highways and roads for orks that by strange contraptions made it over the walls. This left the tunnels beneath the city understaffed, but Edmond was a Mordian and so were many of his fellows, they knew of hives and darkness and tunnels and any sapper or Komando that though they were being kunnin' was going to find something unpleasant waiting for them.

It is unknown what happened to Corporal Edmond Aldsworth in that time. Reports diverge at this point. Some say he went feral, some say he finally broke inside, some say he made a deliberate moral stand and some say he genuinely did not receive the orders. All that is known is that when the war was officially declared over the Inquisition Soldiers were recalled. They knew he was alive mere hours before this order was given because his commanders had spoken to him over the radio but the withdrawal order was never followed and they couldn't wait for him forever, the war was never over somewhere else and local forces could keep a lid on the remnants in the underhives and the sump. But Aldsworth remained in the dark, they wouldn't listen to him. They hadn't seen the level of kunnin' that these greens were showing, uncommon for their kind. They couldn't see what he had seen, his dreams plagued by visions of what they would do if left to gather unobserved and reached the surface in any orderly manner. And so Aldsworth, soldier and renegade, stayed in the dark killing and killing for a very long time.

When he had gone down into the dark he had a necklace with a few ork trigger fingers hanging on it by the time he saw again daylight it was a bone bandolier with the beginnings of another one to cross it. and return to the light he had to. Time had not stood still and years had past, in the dark he was growing old, his hair was greying, his joints were aching more and more and one day he was just slightly too slow and took a knife to the torso for it. He bit that ork's throat out as it laughed and stoved it's head in with a broken manhole cover but the damage had been done, he knew a potentially mortal wound when he saw one and with sucking rasping breath and blood in his throat he lurched to find a way to the surface.

A sight he must have been, in ruined Inquisition armour, dark with grime and muck, stinking with the smell of the underhive and covered in bones and blood. A spectre of some unblessed grave it must have seemed for a moment, some pallid unarresting dead. He only vaguely remembered where the old hospital was from years ago when he still had friends and human contact and by good fortune he found it again now in some upmarket and high rent district.

Despite infections, poor diet, lack of sunlight and the cumulative effects of years of unkind treatment his body recovered although his mind would not heal. There was no possibility of the Inquisition taking him back; impressive as his accomplishments he had disobeyed orders and was never a model soldier to start with. In truth he would not have been able to. Down in the dark he could pretend he was already dead, his trials a time of proving before paradise or rebirth. But here, in the light, in the real world, it all came back to him. He was a person and all that had happened had happened. He could not go back to the war, the war at last had beaten him.

He lay in that bed, his guts held together with polymer thread, healing for no purpose he could see friendless and more alone than he had ever felt. And then a member of the Imperium's diplomatic corps, a branch of the Administratum, came to visit him. Reports on him and the things he had done had filtered up high, anomalous incidents tend to. They had read about what he had done, all that he had done, and knew what limbo he must be in. They told him that there were other ways to serve the Imperium besides the direct war effort. Humanity did not stand alone in the dark, it stood with friends, friends that had to be held on to. They wanted him to be that hand, who else than someone who had seen oblivion like he had done would understand the need of it? Also he spoke the Beil-Tan dialect of the High Tongue, which was advantageous.

And so Edmond Aldsworth, grey haired and full of hard won horrors, entered the service of the Imperiums diplomatic efforts and became the attaché to the ambassador of the Craftworld Beil-Tan, Beil-Tan accepted only veterans as representatives of the Imperium as anything else they found insulting. Having a man like Aldsworth at his right hand would only smooth things further. Also the position came with some rejuvenents, the elder didn't like it when staff changed too soon and his living for a long time would be an advantage.

The rejuvenants regained him some of his lost vitality and some measure of youth, side effect being that most of his remaining hair fell out, and he served the ambassador for many years until the ambassador retired and made way for Ambassador Ciaphas Cain of the Valhallans, Liberator of Perlia, slayer of orks, honorary Fire Warrior of the Tau, unspecified assistant to the Inquisition, frustrator of Chaos and killer of it's followers, exterminator of Tyranids, banisher of deamons and a hundred other accolades from across half the Imperium. Although initially only attached to the craftworld as a temporary measure temporary seems to be ever extending.

Attaché Aldsworth serves him as diligently as he served his old master, smoothing out the diplomatic process, interpreting and translating the more unusual colloquialisms of both languages and accompanying the good Ambassador on various planned and unplanned jaunts across Beil-Tans jurisdiction or at the behest of the Inquisition (who politely don't mention his presence if they can avoid it) and is a source of unflappable reliance and surety.

On the whole he has landed on his feet and he serves the Imperium to the best of his abilities, as he has always done.