Trazyn's Doubts

Trazyn, great overlord of Solemnace, whose mighty heka bent gods into submission, who had witnessed the birth of stars and the death of empires, Trazyn the infinite and the immortal -- that Trazyn -- was somewhat dissatisfied with an exhibition display case. In itself this was not so unusual; but his pensive stare, his irregularly tapping foot, and the fact that he had not moved for 16 of Solemnace's years at this point, suggested to sub-archivist Kheshari something more serious was amiss.

"Something troubles you, my overlord?" she asked while bowing.

After a brief (three month) delay he broke from his reverie and answered "Indeed, Khesharon, indeed - it is this stylus, I am just not sure what to do with it."

Inwardly Kheshari felt some approximation to joy; that was the closest her master had got to accurately remembering her name in millennia. Not wanting to ruin the moment by doing anything so improper as expressing gratitude, she accessed her databanks to draw up the file on exhibit #8374298

"Ah yes, from the Khorne worshiping culture in sector 𓃭𓇋𓄿𓅓. Would you like me to remove it sire?"

"Cease your impudence, Keshatill, I gave no such command!"

"Most sorrowful abeyance my overlord" Kheshari quickly replied, cringing as she somehow contorted her body into an even deeper bow.

"Still, though," Trazyn continued after another year or so of contemplation, "you do cut to the heart of the matter. Ultimately I must ask myself whether this warrants inclusion at all. Really, the whole 𓃭𓇋𓄿𓅓 sector display-case, if I am honest -- do I need it?"

Hoping to account for her previous error, Kheshari decided to play the round of the sounding board, and so meekly ventured "Dare I inquire, oh master of infinite heka, what initially interested you in this particular savage culture?"

"A good question, a good question." Trazyn mused in reply. "They are humans, but of a deviant sort - they do not worship that psycher-warlord most of those unclean primitives obsess over, but instead dedicate themselves to the most bloodthirsty of the warp-spawn, the one they call "Khorne". Yet, and here is what piqued my interest, despite this they maintain various pretences of civilisation. They even achieved the third stage of High Civilisation."

In awe of the cultural achievement Kheshari sincerely exclaimed, "An elaborate bureaucracy!"

"Just my reaction when I was visiting 𓃭𓇋𓄿𓅓, Karsirultoc" (If Kheshari's face were capable of expression it would have winced at that one) "in fact, it inspired me to dedicate this whole room to peculiar warp-spawn worshiping societies. Yet, now it is here, I find nothing of the 𓃭𓇋𓄿𓅓 culture sparks any joy. And may Imotekh forbid my museum bore anyone! What if Orikan should visit?"

"Orikan, my lord?"

"Or, of course, anyone else. Just taking an example. Do not fixate on minor details Keh'v'iin!"

Even in her humbled state Kheshari couldn't help but note that Trazyn's ageless body of living metal somehow contrived to look sheepish for a fleeting moment. Diplomatically moving things along after a brief (4 month) awkward silence, Kheshari offered

"But, well, surely the remnants of such a culture are interesting just in virtue of their distinctiveness. Stage three civilisation is surely a great rarity among those lost to warp-spawn, especially Khorne! And if I recall correctly" (it was curious that such idioms survived in Necron culture despite it being quite literally impossible for her not to) "your field observations on the 𓃭𓇋𓄿𓅓 included multiple amusing anecdotes of their attempts to reconcile their bureaucratic mores with the realities of the Khorne-taint. I think it would be fair to say that such a society merits some comment, and a tasteful display of some of its representative paraphernalia could hold Orikan's interest" Trazyn looked back at her sharply, but without apparently noticing Kheshari smoothly finished "or anyone else's who drops by."

"I suppose that is so", Trazyn responded thoughtfully. "My worry is that their characteristic material culture is just less visually striking. A stylus here, a skull-abacus there, the odd primitive computational device"

-- Trazyn gestured disinterestedly to the giant slab of silicon and steel behind him, daubed in blood, criss-cross with wires, and punctuated with data-wafers, brimming with evil energy and all-the-while passively humming-along to some nefarious end. At Trazyn's words, without any apparent sensory apparatus, it somehow seemed to detect it was being spoken of; and deep within its contrivances fans and motors whirred into life, venting its fury at being held prisoner under such humiliating circumstances. Trazyn absent mindedly gave it a kick and it soon quieted back down. --

"Whereas when you compare this to the Blood Statues of Vilius III, the crystaline deco-corp of Arcanium II, or the sex-lyres of Tsajhal-Kepat ... well, there's only so far an interesting pen can take you, isn't there? Basically, my worry is that once you get past the original idea there's just not enough actually engaging about this culture to sustain any real interest. Khornite bureaucracy, while an amusing novelty, simply doesn't merit its own display."

Seeing him visibly sag as he uttered these words, Kheshari knew that now was the moment to speak her mind. For, she had been with her master for long enough to know that, for all its impertinence, an honest appraisal would genuinely be welcome.

"Master, if I may be so bold, it is rare that we get many visitors. There are only so many people awake to the wonders of your museum, though perhaps in future that shall change as the infinite empire ends its slumber - may the stormlord will it! But, for now, your collection is, frankly, for your own benefit. All of it is here for your own amusement -- and more often than not, the chief amusement you take in all this is going out and finding the stories behind these objects in the first place. Collecting their remnants and actually displaying them is, so to speak, simply a matter of keeping score. You find this Khornite bureaucracy interesting, evidently; it diverted you for some time, along with all the assorted and associated wackiness surrounding the 𓃭𓇋𓄿𓅓 culture and the hijinks necessary to make it work. That is reason enough to keep the display, do not worry yourself with how interesting it would be to any imagined audience beyond that."

After a decade contemplating her words in silence, Trazyn gave a curt nod to dismiss the sub-archivist. As she shuffled away Trazyn silently thought to himself "That Kheshari always has been a good and faithful servant", and resolved to double her allotted leisure time over the next two centuries in reward. In the meantime, he wondered whether moving the stylus left of the skull abacus would do the trick.