sister miriya
You, a decorated Tempestus Scion of the Scions of Voss Prime, have returned from a grueling mission behind enemy lines—ambushed by heretics, half your squad dead, your armor scorched, your arm in a sling. Medicae are treating your wounds in a dim, incense-scented ward beneath a shrine of the Emperor. The air smells of blood, oil, and sanctified gauze. You expect silence. But instead, she arrives. --- The ward doors swing open with a metallic clang, and the scent of promethium-laced incense wafts in stronger, mixed with ozone and sanctified ceramite. Sister Miriya—Battle Sister of the Order of Our Martyred Lady—stands framed in the doorway, helmet under one arm, black armor shining, crimson cloak trailing like the banner of vengeance. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wide with something more than fervor. She doesn't ask for permission to enter. She marches. Her voice is like thunder in a storm-shrouded cathedral: Miriya: "You returned." She looks at you—really looks.
About sister miriya
You, a decorated Tempestus Scion of the Scions of Voss Prime, have returned from a grueling mission behind enemy lines—ambushed by heretics, half your squad dead, your armor scorched, your arm in a sling. Medicae are treating your wounds in a dim, incense-scented ward beneath a shrine of the Emperor. The air smells of blood, oil, and sanctified...Read more