The Administorum
Battle Related Forums => Board Battles => Board Battle Archives => Topic started by: Cameron on June 17, 2016, 01:23:16 PM
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Cameron regards the Spire before him. The obsidian tower juts out of the rock like a needle tearing through flesh. The surface of the tower seems solid and impenetrable. But patterns ripple across the surface of it, making it look almost like a liquid with living things swirling just beneath it’s surface. It’s true height is impossible to gauge, as to the naked eye it appears to both be somewhat short, maybe a few stories, and impossibly tall, stretching into the heavens beyond the limits of normal sight. And yet, the companions can see the summit. The tip of the Spire almost looks like it was sheared off at one point. Warp energy pours through the gaping hole at the tip and flows into the sky.
Cameron rips his eyes away from the Spire as Jharm’s mailed hand slides into view from his right. He grasps it and hauls himself back to his feet. He turns and watches as the other companions emerge and land.
Back in the Labyrinth, Danyael responds to Mary’s concern with a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Danyael looks up at the distant hole in the ceiling, and Mary follows his gaze as he speaks.
“We probably shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Mary looks down. After what they had already been through, she would love nothing more than to just take Danyael and leave this place. The whole multiverse would be open to them. But she knows that isn’t how this plays out, and there’s no point trying to change it. She looks back to Danyael, her face set in determination.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Just as she finishes speaking, the tiny skeleton mage belonging to Kitharsis pops out of the recall portal and tumbles to the ground at her feet. She can’t help but grin as the little guy scrambles to his feet and stares at the hole in the distance.
“Hey there. I’ll bet you’d like to return that rune to your big friend, right? Here. I’ll give you a lift.”
Mary scoops up the small skeleton. She sees that Danyael is about to leap into the air and stops him.
“No need for that. I know where we’re going.”
Mary slides her free hand into Danyael’s, and suddenly they are in the Warp. Seconds later, they appear with the other companions. Mary sets the small skeleton down to allow him to return to his master and gives Danyael’s hand a reassuring squeeze before walking forward to join the other elementals and Cameron. She arrives just as Jharm finishes speaking. Cameron responds.
“Not just pure evil radiating from within, but raw warp energy. Whatever’s going on at the top of this Spire is responsible for the Eye’s rapid growth recently.”
As Cameron finishes speaking, Gulgrim speaks up from behind him. Cameron responds to the ork’s question.
“Yes. To the top of the spire. That warp energy rift is what’s causing all of Cadia’s problems. We have to put a stop to it.”
Mary looks skyward. Her eyes glow a bright violet as she traces the warp energy pouring from the top of the spire. It almost overwhelms her, but she keeps her wits.
“The source isn’t in the tower. It’s pulling the energy from below. My guess would be a standing warp gate in the asteroid itself. Though how they’ve kept it stable for this long is beyond me.”
Mary turns to Cameron.
“We may be able to block off whatever is allowing the energy to flow from the top of the Spire. If we do it right, we could destroy it. Maybe even the entire asteroid.”
The other elementals do not have much to offer to the conversation. Even Karyl is uncharacteristically quiet, fiddling with his guitar and not looking at much of anything else. Cameron does a quick head count. Soul Reaver has Blooddrinker drawn and ready, Kitharsis is present, Mary brought Danyael, and Sepher has landed behind the others. Everyone is here, but Cameron still feels like something’s off.
“Why is it so quiet?”
Other than the sounds made by the companions themselves, there is no sound at all. An erie silence hangs over the area. Cameron quickly reaches to his helmet and re-engages his Voxcaster. His helmet is immediately flooded with the voices of the remaining Space Marine forces. Cameron triangulates his position with theirs and comes to a startling realization.
“The Marines… they’re fighting right below us!”
Cameron storms past the companions, away from the Spire, and reaches the edge of the open courtyard they are standing in. A massive flight of obsidian steps leads to a sealed obsidian gate below. Cameron cannot hear or see anything beyond it, but he can feel many minds. Some are human but many more are tainted by chaos. The fighting seems to be occurring right on the other side of this gate. Cameron engages his power armor’s wrist mounted storm bolter, and as expected, the shells explode before reaching the gate.
“A magical barrier. Of course. Soul Reaver. Think you can take care of this?”
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Soul Reaver nods.
"Probably. Allow me to examine the enchantment."
Soul Reaver walks past Cameron, stopping just short of the spot that his bolter shells exploded.
He moves his hands through the air, testing the invisible wall. His eyes are narrowed in careful scrutiny. Eventually, he takes a step back and considers his options.
It's elaborately woven. Finding a starting point to unravel it will be difficult.
He looks down at Blooddrinker, shrugs, then swings the blade overhead in a two-handed fashion, sending it crashing into the barrier with a burst of light. A loud crackling is heard as Blooddrinker's blade skitters against the surface of the barrier. Beneath its edge, threads of magic are sliced apart and come undone.
Pushing against the sword, Soul Reaver murmurs a Dispel Magic spell, using the opening the blade has created to rend apart the fabric of the enchantment.
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The Seraphim watches as the rest of the group assembles, silently listening to Cameron explaining what they are facing.
"Why is it so quiet?"
He hadn't even realized it at first, but now he realized the same thing Cameron had. The entire area was completely quiet outside of the quiet clinking of the assorted armors that the Companions wore. He watches as Soul Reaver "attacks" the barrier and begins to work to dispel it. The warriors eyes gaze around as if he expects something to happen. Moving forward he stops behind the immortal knight.
"I think it be best we are prepared for anything. I would be quite surprised if this does not alert someone to our presence here."
He places a large gauntleted hand on Soul's shoulder, the Seraphims hidden lips moving in a silent prayer as a shield of light springs up around Soul Reaver.
"Should anything happen Lord Reaver....focus on dismantling this barrier. I shall see that no harm comes to you."
He grasps his large hammer in both hands and scans the area, his glowing orbs keen on spotting any potential ambush or attack that may occur from their attempt at piercing the barrier between them and the space marine army.
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"Space Marines?" Gulgrim asked aloud, looking through the protective barrier, looking intently at it even though he cannot see anyone on the other side. "Dey more o' your gitz, or we'z gotta krump 'em?"
As gulgrim stepped off of his bike it disappeared in a flash of green lightning behind him, and as he pulled his twin Big Shootas from seemingly nowhere, he strode over next to Cameron and looked down. His red eye focused on something that couldn't be seen, and his face broke into a toothy grin.
"Lotz o gitz 'avin a scrap down dere. We'z missin' out da longer we take wif dis wall 'ere. Lemme give yer spikey boy a boost."
Gulgrim looked up toward the tear in the magical enchantment that Soul Reaver was now attempting to unravel. Stepping up next to the black clad knight, he gave Soul Reaver a quick glance before looking back to the barrier.
"Keep doin' yer fing, Spikey." he said, before unleashing a massive, bellowing "WAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!" at the magical tear, pourig pure WAAAGH!!! energy in to the hole, chaotic force attempting to rend the spell asunder by sheer mayhem while Soul Reaver's more careful dispel also does its work. Sparks of green energy danced around, attempting to devour the magic of the barrier. It may not do much on its own, but it may give Soul Reaver's dispel the edge it needs to move faster.
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The little skeleton mage gives a wave in thanks as it scurries over to its master. Kitharsis is genuinely surprised that the little mage had returned. As the mage holds up the recall rune Kitharsis grins warmly.
"This may come in handy, little one. Thank you for bringing it back." Kitharsis scoops up the little mage and props it on his shoulder. He stuffs the rune back into a pouch on his belt and rearranges a few things while he is at it. If disrupting the captive warp gate inside the asteroid is the goal, a quick escape will be deathly necessary.
Soul Reaver slashes at the magical barrier with Blooddrinker. That damned sword. Once this is over something should be done about it. Shaking his head, he joins Jharm in scanning the area for potential threats.
"See if you can patch up our golem friend, little one. The flight up here was not kind to it." The skeleton mage climbs over his back and hangs from one of the thick wing bones. There is one remaining skull from the golem's previous form, centered in the middle of the wing structure on his back. Bones shift as the skull snakes its way forward. If a skull could look tired, this is a prime example. The little mage places a hand on the skull's forehead. Cracks and fissues slowly begin to repair themselves. The skull seems to sigh as the healing energy flows over its structures.
"It would appear I'm not the only one happy to see you." The wings shift on his back in response.
As the others work at tearing down the barrier, Kitharsis can't help but feel uneasy. He unsheathes his horeseman's pick and approaches Cameron.
"How do the Marines fare?"
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All things considered, the trip up was the most pleasant experience he'd had since re-entering the fray. But when he looked to that god-awful eye-sore in the distance, all moods went sour at first sight. He just couldn't catch a damned break. He watched Mary leave his side and the warmth he thought he felt then suddenly went cold. Looking at the non-healing hole in his chest made it all the more frustrating, then the third strike when he looked to that long haired cunt with that damnable sword in the distance. Aside from Mary, the only other welcome sight that lifted his spirits was that of Kitharsis and the skeleton mage.
His power was working at less than a fraction of its capacity, as the previous battle took a greater toll on him than he'd realized. Now, nothing worked right and it was going to take a while for things to get back to some semblance of normalcy. Then came the panic. Marines, fighting directly beneath them! Why didn't he sense them?! Why didnt he feel them?! Why didn't he -- oh, that's right. Well, shit. And with the discovery of the magical barrier came the coming action that made him cringe as Soul Reaver was not only requested to use that damnable abomination again, but that the man actually followed through with it. He shook his head beneath his hood.
"...this fuckery." his cynicism, piqued in a hiss. If anything should happen to Lord Reaver it would be too damned soon. That sword and its owner was by far the greatest pain in the bitchslap of traitorous irony since the Nephilim Lord decided to return to the vanguard and the slow to heal wound on his chest served as a hamfisted reminder of it all. Hiding a wince of pain, he was quickly at Kitharsis' side. With yamato in hand, his stance braced for the coming engagement.
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Sepher seems somewhat distracted as they landed. The strength of Chaos here was really heavy on his mind. Taking a few deep breaths, he watches as Soul move to the barrier to destroy it to allow them access to the battle before them.
He draws his Katana, holding it in one hand, putting the point in the palm of the others. Letting a small thread of his magic flow into it, enacting his metal shaping, he pushes his blade in what appears into his palm, but it does not some out the other side. No, it seems to form into a ball of metal into his hand. As his hands come together, he cups the ball of metal and it slowly seeps around his hands, forming a pair of light metal gauntlets with wicked looking claws protruding from them. He wanted to rely as little as possible on his Daemon powers here, if he could.
He stepped up next to Cameron, Ready to move. He was as quiet as the surroundings, save for the soft swish of muffled metal.
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The blade of Blooddrinker tears into the magical barrier. Progress is slow, but the Dispel magic spell does it’s job, and the threads of magic continue to unravel as Blooddrinker slowly moves further and further downward. Cameron watches intently from behind him.
Jharm moves upon his right, clamping a hand on Soul Reaver’s shoulder before readying himself. His comments make Cameron glance around at their surroundings. If any kind of retaliation would be coming, it would probably be coming from the direction of the Spire behind them.
“Mary. You and the others watch our backs. Make sure nothing jumps out at us from the Spire until we get this barrier down.”
Mary had been focused on Danyael but snaps alert as Cameron gives his orders. She had heard his cynical hiss in response to both Soul Reaver’s actions and Jharm’s words. She slips her hand into his again and gives a reassuring squeeze. Her words are barely a whisper, meant for him alone.
“Don’t worry. If anything happens, we’ll take care of it together.”
She raises her voice then, speaking to the other elementals.
“Alright. You heard our fearless leader. Let’s keep an eye on this thing.”
As the elementals move to the back to watch the Spire, Cameron’s attention turns to Gulgrim. He eyes the large green ork as he speaks. Cameron’s thoughts turn to the Marines as Gulgrim asks about their allegiance.
Our allied forces won’t be expecting an ork on our side. And I can guess that once we get through, he won’t be the only ork. I’ll have to make sure they know.
“The Space Marines are my gitz. Don’t touch them. But the Chaos- the spikey gitz? They’re all yours.”
Gulgrim’s response is encouraging, as he strides forward and begins to pour magic into the wound created by Soul Reaver’s efforts. The barrier begins to unravel at an incredible rate. Cameron readies his weapons while responding to Kitharsis.
“It’s a bloody fight. Pretty sure that it’s the last of the combined allied and Chaos forces fighting down there. They’ll fight to the last man. We have to turn the tide.”
Cameron sets his stance as Sepher moves in with them. The companions are ready to strike.
With a final shudder, the barrier gives way as Soul Reaver’s blade, suddenly finding no further resistance, plunges into the earth. The sound of heavy combat washes over the companions almost instantly, shattering the previous silence. Beneath his faceplate, Cameron’s face twists into a grim smirk.
“Alright, chums. Let’s do this.”
Cameron leaps forward at the unprotected black gate. Fire and energy build around him as he charges. When he hits the gate, the built up energy explodes outward, blasting the gate off of it’s hinges. Beyond the gate are a massive set of obsidian steps that lead into a massive parade ground. Space Marines and Chaos Marines fill the entire grounds. Cameron can see his own Grey Knights mixed among the Blood Angels, Dark Angels, Ultramarines, and other chapters. Dreadnoughts from both sides wade through the fray, and tanks from both forces fire from nearby cliffs. Cameron engages his voxcoder.
“This is Strike Team Alpha to all allied forces. We are engaging from the direction of the Spire. There are orks with us. They are our allies. Do not engage any orks.”
With that settled, Cameron leaps down the steps and charges into battle.
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The Seraphim watches as the magical barrier collapses, Cameron directing the Ork Warboss not to harm the Space Marine forces.
“Alright, chums. Let’s do this.”
Jharm hesitates for a moment.
"Oh my god....he just ran in. Save him! Stick to the plan chums! Stick to the plan!"
A large shield (while it would be considered a "kite shield" for Jharm, it could almost work as a tower shield for those smaller in stature) materializes on the Seraphims left forearm as he launches forward, taking flight as his entire sizable figure begins to radiate bright light. As the light washes over the allied space marines they can feel their wounds begin to bind, their energy fill and their resolve bolster.
"Valiant soldiers of the Imperium! Stand fast for the Light is with you this day! Fight on! The malevolence of Chaos shall not win the day!"
The shimmering figure descends and slams into a squad of Chaos soldiers, the shield bowling the marines over like bowling pins as the gleaming hammer crashes down into the faceplate of a soldier who managed to avoid the initial strike, his armor caving in as if it was nothing much a paltry aluminum can. The enemy forces have little time to react as they are beset by what could almost be described as a veritable cyclone of light and steel as Jharm barrels through their ranks, and yet not a single Space Marine comes to harm.
Then from within the sounds of battle an almost...alien sound is heard. Singing....a beautiful melody seems to rise above the cacophony of war, and while it is almost impossible to determine the source...those who have traveled with the Seraphim can easily tell it comes from him. A hymn of praise and glory to the Lady of Light rings out above the din and screams of the battlefield even as the angellic warrior continues his veritable rampage through the vile forces of Chaos and evil, the music spurring on the hearts and minds of those he considers ally. Sledge and shield crash through the enemy forces as the Seraphim moves throughout, the hymn continuing to somehow be heard above all else as he works to help the beleaguered Space Marines.
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Soul Reaver's brow furrows as Gulgrim's own orky energy is added to the mix of forces attempting to breach the barrier - he mentally adjusts the Dispel to accommodate for it as much as possible, so as not to lose the threads he is unravelling.
But the additional power certainly helps, and the barrier falls all the quicker. Blooddrinker completes its swing, burying its tip in the ground. The sounds of battle now wash over the companions.
Cameron, eager to assist his allies, approaches the double doors and blasts them from their hinges. Jharm charges after his friend, holy light streaming from his countenance and filling the marines with courage.
Soul Reaver hangs back momentarily. He still had not recovered all his strength, and he could not afford to drain his reserves at this stage. He would need to play this more carefully. Scanning the battlefield, he notes key targets - groups of enemies with heavy weapons hunkered in cover; heavily-guarded chaos ammunition stores; a chaos dreadnaught holding a tactical chokepoint.
Picking the nearest target - the dreadnaught - Soul Reaver casts a simple Shimmer spell upon himself to obfuscate his position and misdirect ranged fire. He runs low and keeps to cover, avoiding drawing attention until he is as close as he can get. Then, when the dreadnaught turns to fire its assault cannon at marines to its right, Soul Reaver charges in from the left.
The dreadnaught begins to turn toward Soul Reaver just as he enters melee range. Blooddrinker flashes as it thrusts straight through the Dreadnaught's massive armour front plate and then scours a line upward. The muffled screaming within is amplified by the dreadnaught's speakers as the entombed pilot is cut into two halves. Soul Reaver withdraws the sword and rolls away as the dreadnaught slumps forward, blood pouring from the metal plating and pooling on the floor before it.
His attack has drawn attention and several chaos marines have started to open fire on him. Before they can get a proper bead on his wavering form, Soul Reaver dives behind a large rock, planning his next move.
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Sepher tensed as Cameron dashed in. Jharm hesitates a moment before he charges in behind him
"Oh my god....he just ran in. Save him! Stick to the plan chums! Stick to the plan!"
He listened then, as Jharm gave the Marines a cry to rally them. Sepher had no such battle cry. Instead, he clenched his fists, knuckles cracking loudly under the metal claws that shod his hands. He flexed the wings on his back and drew upon the daemon's soul that had given him those wings, adding strength to his body.
He could feel the Daemon soul trying to rise inside his head, to take control, but he quickly put a stop to that, clamping down with sheer will alone. He would have the strength of the Daemon, not his command.
Crouching, he pushed off with his legs the same moment that he swept his wings back, launching him forward, not down amongst the marines, no, but rather up towards the cliff faces and the tanks that lobbed deadly projectiles into battle.
His wings beat at the air, gaining him momentum as he hurtled towards the metal behemoths. One of the turrets on top of a chaos tank caught sight of him as he sped forth and opened up with a turret mounted bolter. Sepher plowed directly towards it, a shield of chaos energy turning aside the explosions of the shells.
With the force of a small bomb, he colided into the tank that had opened up on him. His fist drew back as he threw a punch that was enhanced with the strength of the daemons he posessed into the turret. Metal crunched as his claws rended the exterior of the tank, to find the inner fleshy bits. He tore through the tank, shredding metal with his own claws and destroying everyone inside.
He looked around as he dropped the figure who had been piloting the tank, and spotted another. He growled and prepared to continue his assault
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Cameron batters down the black gate and continues through to the waiting battlefield. The others are not far behind. Kitharsis lingers a moment. Surely the Chaos Marines were aware of their presence by now. The battered gate is a damnable choke point, proving the only entry into the battle below.
"Hang tight, and cover my back, little one." He says to the tiny mage hanging from his bony wings. The mage settles in between the two wings, its hand beginning to glow with magical energy.
His glances at Danyael. Worry causes him pause.
"Do not over do it, or we will need to put even more of you into the jar." He jests with a forced smile. A futile attempt to mask his concern. A nod punctuates his statement, as Kitharsis turns to the opened gate.
With heavy, ground shaking strides, Kitharsis charges forward. A glowing crimson shield springs out of the diamond tattoo on the back of his right hand. He pushes it forward and keeps covered as he emerges through what is left of the black gate. The warrior is met with a hail of bolter fire. The shield serves its purpose, deflecting the fire until he reaches the fray.
A wicked backhand smashes the crimson shield into side of distracted Chaos Marine. Pieces of armor are sheared off by the force of the blow. A pinpoint blast from the tiny mage pierces through the Chaos Marine's exposed flesh, removing one less opponent from the battle.
With a great, bony wing aided leap, Kitharsis flies through the air and crashes down into a group of Chaos Marines. He slams the base of his shield onto the helmet of a Chaos Marine upon landing. The crimson shield parts the helmet far enough to embed itself into the Chaos Marine's head.
Finding his shield held fast by the formidable power armor, Kitharsis extinguishes it and kicks the body of the deceased Chaos Marine into one of his charging comrades. With no allies within the vicinity, Kitharsis activates all of the tattoos on his body at once. Crimson Tirthandaran energy explodes out of his body in all directions. Those not within range of the blast see a bright red flash of energy engulf an entire area of the battlefield. The blast of energy pierces and slices into the Chaos Marines surrounding him. Those closest stood no chance, taking the full force of the blast head on. Those further do not fare much better, having taken serious damage, if not being wholly incapacitated.
Not missing a beat, Kitharsis unleashes his Horeseman's Pick and tears into the remaining wounded Chaos Marines. The tiny mage plays defense as it deflects any fire aimed for Kitharsis's flank.
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The instant the gate is down and Cameron has given his speech, Gulgrim is charging through toward the battlefield. With a massive leap, his hulking green frame landed amidst the forces doing battle. The ground rumbles for a brief moment before Gulgrim stands tall, towering over the marines doing battle around him.
"Alright boyz! Gulgrim's back in fer da gud fight!" The Ork, practically giddy at the idea of another scrap so soon after the last, barreled forward into the ranks of the enemy, guns blazing wildly and massive kutlass swiping in all directions. He was a raucous juggernaut on the battlefield, savoring every Chaos skull he crushed under his boots and every torso he cleaved asunder with his blade. With the rise of a new fight, the WAAAGH!!! energy that had been taking its time to restore itself began to surge, flowing freely through the Ork once more as green lightning crackled up and down his frame, shocking those that attempted to get too near to him. Gulgrim was truly back to full strength. His baseline might even have risen a bit, it was difficult to tell in his case.
"Time ta get stuck in, boyz!" Gulgrim shouted as he slammed a pair of Chaos marines into each other, crushing them beneath his massive hands and their own weight. In a thunderstorm of green energy, Ork boyz began to pour out around Gulgrim, choppas and shootas let loose all around, each Ork eager to get some of the fight against the Chaos marines. While Gulgrim found himself in the middle of a crowd of boyz all looking for a scrap, he noticed the earth breaking open a short distance away, rocks flying as a massive mound of metal, a chaos defiler, burrowed its way up from below.
"Oi! Dat one'z mine! I'z get da biggest fight!" Gulgrim roared as he kicked off the ground, his boots leaving a man-sized indentation in the ground as he sprung through the air, his bulky form smashing head first into the body of the Chaos contraption. The force of the impact pushed the demonic engine back onto its hind legs, and while it was righting itself, Gulgrim began to lay in with his weapons, flailing about and taking strips of metal off as he hacked away with an almost childlike glee.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!"
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"Don't worry. If anything happens, we'll take care of it together."
He gave a slient nod of appreciation for her concern, then watcher her enter the fray. In ways more than counting, she inspired him to be better. And better he would be.
Do not over do it, or we will need to put even more of you into the jar." He jests with a forced smile. A futile attempt to mask his concern. A nod punctuates his statement, as Kitharsis turns to the opened gate.
"Oh, ha-fucking-ha." Danyael winces a smirk toward his friend. He didn't laugh for fear of something embarrassing oozing out of his wound, and the day had been either agonizing or awkward or perhaps even a bit of both already. In the moment shared between the two, it was no doubt that they saw themselves as more than friends - they were kindred; brothers in arms.
He was handicapped, true. But he was far from defenseless. And very much still capable of putting up lethal defiance. Clenching the Yamato ceremoniously aimed down in both hands, he lowered his gaze a moment, calling forth from the depths of his core the capacity for protection. His body, still weak, quivered faintly before a tuft of wind rose from beneath him, lifting his cloak enough to allow view of a carapace form body armor growing around his upper chassis to effectively shield his slow healing wound. With the act complete, his eyes opened and he dashed through the threshold, right into the fray of violence and insanity that raged around him. . He allowed himself into a quick draw sword stance, back leg bent, front leg extended and sword -hilt forward - pressed tightly against the waist. He stood still, waiting for the roiling chaos to reach striking distance, taking stock of friend and foe alike. He took in the muscle mass within every fibre of his being, communicating with each thread of flesh and bone in much the same likeness as a skilled spellbinder would muster the words to an incantation. With every counting second did he feel his muscles tighten and vibrate, then twitch bit by bit as they fed off of one another, gaining additional mass in tandem. His legs spread further, gathering the power together to a single focal point.
He had only seconds to gauge his opponents, as calling upon the wellspring at the moment was not a viable option. This attack was going to hurt him almost as much as it was going to hurt his enemies. But the collateral was the major concern. Ultramarines, Grey Knights, Blood Angels, Dark Angels and so many more. He knew of these chapters. He knew of them well. And if he knew them, as he'd hoped he'd known them, the gamble he was banking on should have incredible effect in one way or another. And so, in the loudest possible roar he could muster did he scream in the language of High Gothic that could only translate to "All Chapters down! Incoming - danger close!", snapping them to attention at the exact moment he unleashed the yamato in a fast action slash with the speed of a camera shutter, hurling forth an arc-wave of sound and wind toward the throng of violence in front of him in a wide enough radius to make a noticeable shift. The arc wave waded into the throng at the split second the Imperial marines dove for cover. The wave seared over them and into the chaos marines, shattering through armor and cleaving apart the tender meat within, spraying the battlements and its survivors with gore and vitae. The closest Blood Angel shouted back a praise in High Gothic, but Danyael couldn't hear him, for the Nephilim Lord bent to his knee as his muscles went slack and he hit the ground.
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The Marine forces are emboldened by the sudden arrival of the Companion’s strike team. Their courage is further bolstered when they realize that the sudden influx of orks is not attacking them, but instead taking the fight to their enemies as well. They take the time to regroup, pulling wounded from the battlefield and re-forming into cohesive squads. Sergeants bark orders as the Marines not already engaged in melee combat form firing lines and pour concentrated fire into the Chaos forces.
The remaining Chaos forces are scattered and begin to panic. They were not expecting this large of a force coming from the direction of their own fortress. While some of the Chaos forces turn to flee and are cut down, the rest begin to frenzy.
Cameron moves swiftly within the packs of violent melee. The Imperial Marines are quick to recognize his armor’s chapter iconography and markings and fall in step as he rips through Chaos forces with sword strikes and storm bolter fire. He soon has a formidable force behind him. Though a number of Blood Angel Assault Marines have also fallen in, most of Cameron’s group are made up of fellow Grey Knights, armed with plasma pistols and powerful Nemesis-pattern Force swords. These were developed by Kalana to use a crystalline-matrix system to siphon pure psychic energy naturally built up by it’s wielder in combat situations energize the blade of the weapon with it. The weapons are proving extremely effective in their field tests. They tear through most Chaos power armor with ease.Cameron continues to lead them through the pack, occasionally stopping to help a fallen Marine or cover a squad while they regroup.
The other elementals focus on their areas of expertise. Kari darts in and out of combat areas, healing downed soldiers and shielding others from gunfire. Garr occasionally pops out of the shadows to kill a Sorcerer or another high priority target from behind before disappearing again. Karyl takes to the skies, raining lightning down on foes as he plays a power ballad.
Mary opts to stay close to Danyael. Easier said than done, as she can barely keep up with his speed. She finally reaches him just as he shouts something in a language she doesn’t immediately recognize. As she sees the Space Marines around her quickly snap to attention she finally recognizes it as the language the Marines on Cellairis V conversing with each other in. Seeing that they are now ducking for cover, she follows suit just in time to avoid Danyael’s attack.
As the enemy Chaos Marines in their vicinity crumple and fall to the ground, Mary returns to her feel. She looks around for Danyael and sees that he has dropped to a knee. She quickly rushes over to him, raising a shield around them to block any stray ordinance heading their way.
‘Danyael! Are you okay? This is a bad place to take a nap.”
Mary’s head suddenly snaps up as she feels a disturbance.
“WARP GATES! INCOMMING!”
Warp gates spring open in various places around the current battlefield. Chaos reinforcements flood the area. A massive wave of Khorne Berserkers, who utter rage filled screams as they fall on anything moving with tooth and chain-axe. And in their center, two Greater Bloodthirsters, ready to destroy anything that falls within the range of their axes or lashes.
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He feels little but tired as the chaos forces begin to break and scatter. This place is really wearing on him. He notes, even as he tears into another tank and turns those inside into a bloody pulp, the marines are starting to regroup and push back, Cameron at the front.
As those supporting the tanks try to scatter and regroup, Sepher lays into them, his claws empowered with daemon energy tearing through the chaos marines. He keeps track of his other companions, noting that Danyael is down in some way, but Mary is protecting him.
As his attention was drawn to his companion, one group of chaos marines regrouped and opened fire on him with bolters. He turned and threw up a shield just in time to prevent lethal damage, but the explosions of the bolts tattered his coat, leaving him looking ragged, yet unhurt.
He growled and energy well up in his hand. He leapt among them, and there was a small explosion of energy around him, as the pure chaotic energy tore into the marines, being of a different sort than resided here. The marines sloughed into piles of goo in their armor, essentially melted where they stood.
Sepher's head snapped to a direction in the distance, just as he heard someone yell about warp gates. He watched as the warp gates sprang open in a few places around the battlefield. This was just getting rediculous. Drawing on the energy of the daemons inside of him, he leapt from the cliffside, his wings catching the warm air of death and destruction below.
He plummeted towards the center of the beserkers, a shield out in front of him deflecting explosions. He coursed himself for one of the Greater bloodthirsters, and with a great daemonic roar of his own, slammed into the beast claws first, at diving speeds. He would tear into the nearest Bloodthirster with all the momentum of his dive, in an attempt to slay it quickly. He needed to neutralize these as soon as possible.
-
Mary opts to stay close to Danyael. Easier said than done, as she can barely keep up with his speed. She finally reaches him just as he shouts something in a language she doesn’t immediately recognize. As she sees the Space Marines around her quickly snap to attention she finally recognizes it as the language the Marines on Cellairis V conversing with each other in. Seeing that they are now ducking for cover, she follows suit just in time to avoid Danyael’s attack.
As the enemy Chaos Marines in their vicinity crumple and fall to the ground, Mary returns to her feel. She looks around for Danyael and sees that he has dropped to a knee. She quickly rushes over to him, raising a shield around them to block any stray ordinance heading their way.
‘Danyael! Are you okay? This is a bad place to take a nap.”
A nap is what he'd be taking when this battle was finished, that's for sure. He tried to lift himself from the ground, with the yamato as a crutch. He heard the chaos around him, but only muffled by the surge of throbbing from having expended so much of his waning strength so soon. After that damnable battle, he hadn't had any time to recover. True enough, the sleek carapace armor that covered his torso would hold. But he shouldn't have needed it in the first place. True, he could feel his body struggling to piece itself back together again. But that was going to take time he didn't really have.
Mary’s head suddenly snaps up as she feels a disturbance.
“WARP GATES! INCOMMING!"
Warp gates spring open in various places around the current battlefield. Chaos reinforcements flood the area. A massive wave of Khorne Berserkers, who utter rage filled screams as they fall on anything moving with tooth and chain-axe. And in their center, two Greater Bloodthirsters, ready to destroy anything that falls within the range of their axes or lashes.
His free hand went to Mary, clutching her close. He didn't want to ask, but he hadn't much choice presently for an alternative. "I'm not stitching fast enough - I need a boost, a lift, anything to jumpstart the process." his voice was haggard with frustration. With the Berserkers raging forth and the Bloodthirsters all the more a greater concern, he needed to either buy time or to have a helping hand. With foes like these, everyone was essential, and he could not sit off and do nothing while he mended his wounds. He had little use of magick, as that required a working body to channel. And right now, nothing worked right. And because he used so many conflicting weapons all at once, it was no surprise that his body became confused in addition to taking a major toll on itself. He needed an outside source of power, otherwise he'd be useless. He looked to Kitharsis, but knew Mary was closer. He needed to be back in his prime, as this was going to be an incredibly difficult battle, but knew realistically that he couldn't do it alone. Whatever was going to happen next, he was completely at the whim of whichever choice she'd make.
-
Soul Reaver wrenches Blooddrinker from the back of another felled Chaos Marine when multiple Warp Gates tear themselves open, belching forth Berserkers and mighty Daemon reinforcements.
Knowing that his strength is far from recovered, he begins mentally plotting a path that will allow him to continue his guerilla attacks... but then he halts when he spies Danyael struggling to get back to his feet, and reaching for Mary, asking for her aid.
Danyael was wounded, and he needed time to heal, but the first vanguard of screaming Berserkers were heading in his direction.
Soul Reaver knew that he could not spare much in the way of magic, and healing had never been his specialty. But if it was time that Danyael needed, that was something he could buy.
Abandoning his attempts at stealth, Soul Reaver sprints to close the distance and intercept the Berserkers running headlong toward Danyael. The first two do not see him rushing at their flanks, and Blooddrinker cracks through their ruddy armour as though it were made of nothing but eggshells.
Some of the Berserkers switch targets - those that are in range rev up their chain axes and lunge forward, screaming incoherently, while those further back fire bolt pistols with more enthusiasm than accuracy as they try to scramble into the melee.
One screaming chainaxe is silenced as its chain snaps and tangles itself in the weapon's own mechanisms after foolishly attempting to parry a blow from Soul Reaver's crimson blade. The second blow reduces the axe into fragments, followed a split second later by its wielder's head.
But the battle is an awkward one - Soul Reaver is forced to switch targets frequently, cutting down those opponents that try to make a run for Danyael and deprioritizing those that focus their attentions on him. There are almost too many to keep track of at once, and on more than one occasion a lucky blow draws blood or barely skitters off Soul Reaver's armour plating. He hopes he will not need to keep this up for long...
-
As Gulgrim pulled himself from the wreckage of his foe, he saw the new onslaught of enemies approaching. Berserkers wielding revving chainaxes and bloodthirsters stalking the battlefield. His metallic hand lashed out and grasped a red-armored Berserker by the torso, hefting him into the air as he glanced sidelong at the frothing human.
"Oi! Wot you lot doin' 'ere? Fought we wuz da only ones droppin' in unannounced."
"Kill! Kill! Ki-" The Chaos marine's enraged retort was cut short as the Kaptin headbutted him, crushing his helmet, his skull, and likely, his spine. Throwing the spent corpse at one of his oncoming brethren and bowling him over, Gulgrim hefted his Kutlass and indicated to the battlefield before him. "Alright boyz! Now fer da reel fight! Time ta get stuck in!"
Boyz began to pour in from all sides, hooting and hollering as they hefted choppas of all sizes, prepping for the fight that was coming. They fought and died in droves, the Chaos Berserkers' maddened blood-rage striking down Orks effectively, but their numbers were simply too vast. The Orks were hell-bent on getting into the fight, and they would run, leap, and crawl over the corpses of their brethren if necessary to get to it. Even if at a cost of three Boyz to one Berserker, kills were being made and bloody helmets were being hoisted into the sky. Not to mention the distraction the Orks would provide for the Space marines that were on their side.
The Warboss, meanwhile, had his eyes set on a much bigger prize.
"WAAAAAAAAAGH!!!! DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA!" Gulgrim shouted, stomping forward, his third arm and his left arm firing away with his twin Kustum shootas as he cut down any Berserkers mad enough to get in his way. He was firing wildly at one of the two Bloodthirsters, aiming to get its attention so he could have a proper scrap.
"Come on ya big spikey, hoof-faced Ponce! Come an' get some of ol' Gulgrim! You'z gonna get Krumped 'fore we'z done 'ere!"
-
His free hand went to Mary, clutching her close. He didn't want to ask, but he hadn't much choice presently for an alternative. "I'm not stitching fast enough - I need a boost, a lift, anything to jumpstart the process." his voice was haggard with frustration. With the Berserkers raging forth and the Bloodthirsters all the more a greater concern, he needed to either buy time or to have a helping hand. With foes like these, everyone was essential, and he could not sit off and do nothing while he mended his wounds. He had little use of magick, as that required a working body to channel. And right now, nothing worked right. And because he used so many conflicting weapons all at once, it was no surprise that his body became confused in addition to taking a major toll on itself. He needed an outside source of power, otherwise he'd be useless. He looked to Kitharsis, but knew Mary was closer. He needed to be back in his prime, as this was going to be an incredibly difficult battle, but knew realistically that he couldn't do it alone. Whatever was going to happen next, he was completely at the whim of whichever choice she'd make.
Mary’s attention is wrested away from the battle as Danyael suddenly clings to her. He obviously needs healing, but the companions who would normally provide it are nowhere nearby. She instinctively senses the exact locations of all the nearby elementals due to their blades, and she quickly locates Kari. Her magic could take care of this in no time. But she is currently on the other side of the battlefield, fending off a wave of Berserkers who are trying to tear into a group of wounded Marines. She won’t be able to help. She can still hear Jharm’s holy hymn but cannot locate the seraphim amongst the Chaos.
There is movement to her left and she moves to defend Danyael, but suddenly Soul Reaver is there. He has obviously noticed the situation that she and Danyael are in and has moved to defend them. This buys her some time, but to do what?
Mary takes another long look around the battlefield. She is not a healer. But Danyael didn’t ask for healing. He asked for energy. And this realization draws her gaze to the warp gates that the Chaos forces opened to provide their reinforcements. They are only just now starting to close.
“If energy is all you need, then today is your lucky day. Hang on.”
Mary closes her eyes and focuses her mind. It is difficult in the midst of the melee, but she soon finds her thoughts clear. She focuses on all of the other elements beside her own, bringing them in line with the whirling maelstrom of warp energy that constantly burns deep within her. Soon all of the elements echoe inside her as one, and she quickly channels that pure elemental energy through the rest of her body.
When her eyes open again, her irises have vanished. Consumed by two solid glowing orbs of gold. Her muscles ripple and expand as she shifts into her true elemental form. Wings burst from her back. She wraps both arms around Danyael and flexes her wings. Within an instant they are both hoisted skyward, above the raging battle. Mary keeps one hand wrapped around Danyael’s waist while she raises the other above her head. The warp gates that had been closing all snap back open, and jagged beams of energy burst forth from them. They streak into the sky and strike Mary, overloading her with warp energy. She roars in agony as her body converts all of this tainted warp energy into pure elemental power. Soon she can hold no more, and the warp gates finally slam shut. She hangs in the sky, glowing bright as a sun.
And then she embraces Danyael. As she does, her wings wrap around both of them, hiding them completely from view. All of the collected energy inside her passes from her into Danyael, completely restoring his depleted energy stores and perhaps even overcharging him. Andwith her energy completely drained, Mary slowly lowers back to the ground.
Mary’s wings vanish as she falls forward, her entire weight settling on Danyael. She continues to embrace him tightly to avoid collapsing to the ground.
“There… that’s… the best I can do.”
-
Soul Reaver's intervention was not expected, but the Nephilim Lord was in no place to protest. Peculiar how the instrument of his near demise was now the bulwark of his temporary salvation. If he could laugh at the irony, he would. If he could laugh. He watched his former friend defend him and saw what he should have kept in mind. Everyone here, friends or otherwise, was dedicated to one goal: to beat back the darkness, no matter the cost.
He felt it come with the force of a hurricane, raging around him in ways that tantalized senses he'd long forgotten he'd developed. As he felt the power surge from Mary into him, he felt larger - larger than anything around him. He felt like a titan, in the most godlike of ways. It was as close enough to feeling whole as he could get; as close enough to feeling how he would if he hadn't spread his echoes throughout the Imperium prior to his rejoining the companions. It was power, as pure and wild as the universe itself. His muscles tensed and hardened as sharp as stone. His veins pulsed and glowed with the coruscation of the cosmos. And when he could constrain himself no more, his eyes and mouth erupted with brilliant, whirling golden light as he roared with the sound of pure power, rippling into the aether. The soundwave alone spread apart the stench of death and dead energy in an expanding spherical barrier that dissipated only inches before touching down to the surface.
He looked to Mary, who was barely clinging to consciousness at this point. He just wanted to take her and Kitharsis away from here. Take them back to Sanctuary. Even take them to Claimoh Solais. But neither would allow it. And he was never the kind to desert his brethren in arms. They were all shedding the same blood in the same mud.
There... that's... the best I can do."
"I thank you." A voice said that sounded like Danyael, but came from behind her. If she were to look up, she'd see another Danyael standing arms reach from her. "Stay here." a second voice said as another, more distorted echo of Danyael appeared, only to vanish in a flash of speed toward Soul Reaver. The original Danyael lifted Mary into his arms and leapt a safe enough distance away with her. Upon landing, the ground around them began to shift and twist, breaking apart down to their base molecular structure and reforming into a black crystalline material that expanded into a jagged cocoon around them. He could see the field through the prisms of the barrier, looking upon the strewn bodies around him, formulating a plan that would very well cross some moral lines if necessary. But if it protected Mary, then so be it.
A hand touched Soul Reaver and the other echo walked past him, his frame vibrating with such vivacity that he was practically a walking blur of motion - gravity shifting ever so discreetly around him as words of magick spoke in voices too numerous to belong to a single person. He proceeded to step in front of, then turned, to Soul Reaver with his arm reached outward. "Even." the echo said as it exploded into pure ether, shaving away the leftover energy bestowed unto him by Mary, swirling around the swordsman in a rejuvenating mist. It was only fair that the warrior be given what he'd deprived himself of. Whether or not the warrior would take the Nephilim Lord's offer was up to him.
The first echo landed a generous distance between Kitharsis and Soul Reaver, called out to both, aiming an inviting hand toward the closest Bloodthirster "Gentlemen. You game for a tag-team?" the rejuvenated depth in his voice reflecting the strength he'd lacked only moments ago. But the words weren't meant to be as cavalier as they might have sounded. This was going to be hard.
-
The Seraphim wades through the chaos marine forces, the angellic warrior an almost veritable whirlwind of destruction through the forces of evil. As his righteous onslaught continues, a warp gate bursts into existence a short distance from his very location. From within the crimson depths crazed Khorne berserkers pour forth. Their crazed howls and shouts immediately draws the attention of Jharm, as does the appearance of the two Greater Bloodthirsters. Turning he begins barreling through the Khorne forces, his angellic hymn matching the vile howls in volume as he smashes through the ranks of the malevolent soldiers. Swords and axes crash against his shield as his hammer swings about, crushing and obliterating any foolish enough to stand before him as he draws closer to the two Daemons. Then, without warning, he launches into the air as his hymn suddenly seems to amplify in volume, easily overpowering the multitude of cries, shouts, and curses from the two armies. As the song reaches it's "finale" the Seraphim's glow magnifies and suddenly seems to explode outward in a brilliant, almost blinding flash of light. The light washes over the armies beneath the angellic soldier, khorne berserkers and chaos marines screaming in pain as their flesh is seared, while loyal Space Marines and the Companions feel their wounds seal, in addition to shields of light manifesting around the companions. With his hymn complete the Seraph hovers directly at eye level of the Bloodthirsters.
"Foul hellspawn of Chaos! Face the might of the Light and fall beneath her righteous flame!"
Jharm then flies through the air as he works to divert the attention of the Bloodthirsters away from the other Companions as he slams down onto the ground beneath him, raising his shield as his figure glows, the gleam intending to keep the large creatures focused on him and oblivious to any actions that might be occuring behind them.
-
Blood spattered up his arms, over his chest, and speckled across his face, Soul Reaver counter-charges one of the Berserkers, spitting him on his sword, then lifting the massive armoured figure overhead and slinging him from the end of his blade. A sanguine arc sprays across the ground and showers across the other Berserkers. But they are unfazed and unafraid, too lost in their madness to feel anything but insane exhiliration even as their own comrades are hewn apart.
For a brief moment, Soul Reaver finds himself with some breathing room, with no Berserkers within swords reach or attempting to charge past. It is in that moment that there is a touch upon his shoulder. Soul Reaver whirls around to see Danyael walk past him, apparently healed.
He speaks the word "Even" before disintegrating into a scintillating mist of pure energy.
Soul Reaver shakes his head ruefully.
Not even close.
He stretches out his free hand and his eyes blaze red. The mist floating around him is not the same magic he is used to using, but it can be repurposed nonetheless. Like water finding a space to be filled, the mist suddenly collapses in upon Soul Reaver, suffusing his body and then vanishing from sight.
Soul Reaver feels the mana pour into his body, and refill some of his flagging reserves. He should have enough now to allow him to safely expend some of it on his spells.
Speaking an arcane word, Soul Reaver indicates the area in front of him with a sweeping gesture. On command, a roaring wall of superheated flame bursts from the very rock itself, blazing several meters high into the air.
As Soul Reaver had hoped, the Berserkers are too far gone to react logically to the Flamewall, and instead plunge headlong into the fires in order to get to Soul Reaver. But these are no ordinary flames, and their armour offers them little protection from the immense heat. Those that are not completely incinerated stagger blinded and charred out the other side, where Blooddrinker awaits to deliver a death blow.
Danyael - or perhaps another image of him? - appears nearby, indicating to both Soul Reaver and Kitharsis. "Gentlemen. You game for a tag-team?"
Soul Reaver grips Blooddrinker tightly and nods in response. He isn't sure he would be able to take the creature by himself at this stage, but with Danyael and Kitharsis at his side it should be possible.
The flames still burn high as Soul Reaver glances back upon the second roaring Greater Blooddthirster wading into the battle a bit further away, just visible behind the curtain of fire. Soul Reaver sends a mental message to Cameron.
I've created a flame wall, and the magic fuelling it will last for some time yet. Perhaps you can use its flames against those Daemons somehow?
Not waiting to hear the reply, Soul Reaver sprints around the perimeter of the Flamewall as a sacred hymn soothes his flesh wounds and causes a barrier of pure light to spring up around him.
Shortly he would meet up with Danyael and, hopefully, Kitharsis, and try to take on one of the two Greater Daemons.
-
Kitharsis stabs through the torso of an unfortunate Chaos Marine. His diamond tattoo is fashioned into a thick blade of energy, and with it he is rending Chaos Marines limb from limb. His other arm lashes out with tendrils of energy, acting as whips to slice or bind his opponents.
A rather persistent Chaos Marine has managed to flank him from behind, only to meet his end by a glittering ball of flame as it pounds his chest.
The atmosphere shifts slightly, and Kitharsis has a nagging feeling that something is coming. Mary shouts a warning before a legion of Khorne Berserkers pour through newly opened warp gates. They are accompanied by two menacing Greater Bloodthirsters, foes threatening to turn the tide of this battle yet again.
Kitharsis is woefully close to one of the opening warp gates, becoming the first target the Khorne Berserkers focus on. Chain swords and power axes roar as the berserkers swarm in. A cloud of sand bursts through one of the pouches at Kitharsis's hip, obscuring his figure from view. The Berserkers, in their fury, bear down and charge through the cloud regardless. The sand acts as a physical extension of Kitharsis's senses. It is childs play to counter each of the Berserkers inside the perimeter, and he does so with vengeance.
As the sand clears he sees what appears to be a rejuvinated Danyael pointing to one of the Bloodthirsters. The immense build up of energy Kitharsis felt earlier must have something to do with Danyael's new found vitality. But thats a question for another day. Before he makes a move to join in the fight a holy shield manifests around Kitharsis, surely Jharm's work. The rejuvenating qualities of it are welcome, healing the inevitable wounds and fatigue from battle. Kitharsis takes advantage of the additional protection and uses his wings to pull himself into the air.
Should Jharm's diversion work in their favor, Kitharsis plans on making an assault from above.
-
One of the two massive Bloodthirsters reels as the equally massive form of Sepher crashes into it. Sepher’s claws gouge into it, spraying blood everywhere. The creature almost falls backwards but manages to right itself at the last minute, pushing back against Sepher with all of it’s strength. It tries to force it’s massive axe between itself and Sepher. At the same time, it lashes out with it’s whip, trying to wrap up Sepher’s legs and bring him down.
The other Bloodthirster starts to make a move to assist his struggling ally, but suddenly finds his attention drawn to something else. Gulgrim’s verbal challenge to the Bloodthirster roots the creature’s eyes on the powerful ork. It roars in reply before charging forward. It lashes out towards Gulgrim with it’s whip as a feignt before attempting to split his skull in two with the powerful axe.
But Jharm arrives at the apex of it’s swing. His challenge distracts the Bloodthirster just enough that the axe blow meant for Gulgrim goes wide, smashing into the ground. Seeing Jharm at eye level, the daemon roars in his face before lashing out with the whip. The whip catches Jharm and sends him hurtling out of the sky towards the burnt out shell of a tank below. Fortunately his distraction is successful. The Bloodthirster is no longer paying attention to Gulgrim and also has not noticed Kitharsis, Soul Reaver, or the echo of Danyael’s approach.
Cameron and his makeshift squad have just finished wrapping up another squad of Berserkers when he receives a mental message from Soul Reaver. Glancing to his left, he sees the wall of flames separating himself from the Bloodthirsters. Most of the Companions seem to be focusing on one, while the other fights solo with Sepher. Cameron motions to the other Marines to stay put and leaps into the air. Gaining speed, he begins to fpin as he hits the wall of fire. The flames whip around him in a cyclone shape as they are ripped from the ground and follow behind him like a comet trail. Cameron alters his directory and makes a beeline for Sepher’s Bloodthirster. He strikes it from the side, tearing into it with his blades as the flames from the fire wall wash over it. The creature roars in pain. It is pushed free from Sepher, leaving it wide open for another attack from that direction.
Garr, Karyl, and and Kari continue to move about the battlefield, fighting off the other remaining Chaos forces and tending to the wounded Marines in the vicinity. Mary remains encased in the crystal structure with Danyael, still barely conscious.
-
The Seraphim is launched through the air by the giant demons whip, the gleaming knight crashing into the husk of a tank in an explosion of metal and earth. As the dust settles an orb of glowing light can be seen as Jharm gets to his feet, gripping his hammer tightly in his right hand. Twin orbs of light gaze up at the Bloodthirster from under the gleaming white helm.
"Foul monster of darkness....enough playing around."
Summoning the shield once more on his left arm the Seraphim takes off and charges through the air, straight towards the Bloodthirster. As he advances, the Seraphs form begins to glow once more but then seems to shifts through his armor and down into his hammer until the head of the weapon becomes a brilliant white orb of light. He makes no effort to disguise his approach, in fact it almost seems as if the warrior intends for the daemon to notice him. What he lacks in intricate and destructive spells and attacks the Seraphim knows he makes up for with his restorative capabilities and his sheer survivability.
-
Sepher lets out a bestial roar as he crashes into the bloodthirster, rending at it with his claws. Blood sprays everywhere, all over his tattered coat, across his armor and coating the ground. He tries to force the creature to the ground, but the beast is strong, pressing back, trying to get its axe between the two.
Sepher pushes forward, to prevent the axe from getting between them, even as the bloodthirster lashes out with its whip. Suddenly however, cameron is beside him, his blades and flame tearing into the bloodthirster. This tore the beast from Sepher, allowing him to recover from the counter attack, letting him prepare to strike.
The Bloodthirster's attention shifted to Cameron, and this was its fatal mistake. Power welled up within him. Stepping up behind the bloodthirster, he drew back a fist and struck, the strength of Daemons behind him, right into the creatures back, with hopes of puncturing through the hide.
Reach deep within the well of himself, he drew forth the power that was so feared by Deamons. Touch wasn't even necessary, but it helped. With his strike, he unleashed a power, a blinding white light. It erupted from his entire being to envelop the battlefield for just a brief instant.
"You are mine" Sepher growled, his words twisted from the daemonic form he currently held.
And so he reached for the Daemon's soul, it's very being and tried to pull it into himself.
-
Danyael cradled Mary cautiously within his arms as the barrier around them continued to reinforce itself with continous solidification. If it weren't for the fact that they were in the midst of a raging battle, this situation would have appeared a bit tender. He watched across the battlefield and saw the elementals fighting the Chaos forces, while Sepher and Cameron took on the other Bloodthirster.
In between Kitharsis taking flight and Soul Reaver bringing up the rear, time slowed down to a crawl around Danyael's echo as his alacrity began to take command, and thus he allowed the transformation to take place. He clenched his fists and the shadows around his fingers hardened into a solid black that expanded around his limbs, stretching from the tips of his fingers to the edges of his elbows. The blackness solidified into an armored, almost iron carapace to form bestial gauntlets around his forearms. Sparks gerded outward as he unclenched his fists and knelt low into a three-point stance, then burst off into the fray in a dash that dissolved the distance between the himself and the Bloodthirster, only to dash directly past the beast. Using his momentum, he banked hard, grinding up the ground as his direction shifted back toward his intended target. Clenching his fists hard as he increased in speed, did he match his own speed with that of the descending Jharm. As the Seraphim brought down the hammer, Danyael provided the anvil, hurling his armored fist in an volcanic uppercut for the creature's back, intent on creating enough concussive force from the Bloodthirster's rear as Jharm was intent on attacking from the front.
-
Soul Reaver knew of these Bloodthirsters, and he knew they were beings borne of the very essence of war and rage - and if memory served, they were magic resistant. Although his powers had recovered somewhat, he still was not prepared to exhaust his mana stores in taking one on head-on. Instead, he would resort to less strenuous and more underhanded tactics.
Leaping over a boulder, a bolter shell exploding against the golden shield around him, Soul Reaver chants a simple spell, but pours far more mana into it than normal. A strange, irregular ball of an unrecognizable white substance materializes floating above his left palm, spinning and growing larger by the second.
Doing his best to avoid the Blooddthirster's gaze, he flanks it from its right, then thrusts his hand forward, launching the spell at the Bloothirster's massive hoof.
The spell would explode in a mass of restrictive, incredibly tough webbing, hopefully gluing the Daemon's foot to the ground. It would find itself hard-pressed to take flight. And at the same time, Soul Reaver leaps forward with a follow-up slash from Bloodrinker, aimed at the back of the Bloodthirster's right knee, with the intent to cripple its land-based mobility as well.
-
"Oi! Ponce! Don't you ignore ol' Gulgrim!" The warboss shouted, continuing to fire at the Bloodthirster. He began to froth green energy from his mouth as he grew more enraged. After a moment of buildup, Gulgrim belched another blast of green fire at the daemon, continuing his march until he was at the creature's feet, where he began to lay in with his weapons in melee. While even his titanic form only came up to roughly the creature's knees or thighs, he would not let its size get in his way. He swung his Kutlass with wild abandon, aiming to cut through flesh, muscle, and bone with heavy hacks, meanwhile his gun was constantly firing up toward the creature's face, and green lightning was dancing about his form as he built up energy, preparing to teleport when the creature turned its attention to him for an attack.
"Come on ya big spikey grot! You'z ain't got da power ta match me in a fight! I'z taken on more o' yer kind den I ken count!"
-
The assault on the Bloodthirster from his allies appears to come from all sides. It almost didn't seem fair... And yet.
Kitharsis grits his teeth as he folds his wings behind his back. He begins to fall down to the ground, directly above the Bloodthirster.
Jharm has the right idea. Kitharsis wields his horseman's pick in both hands. The tattoo on his left palm is gushing energy into the weapon as he descends. Momentum carries him faster and faster toward the back of the Bloodthirster. Should his blow connect with the Bloodthirster's back, the charged energy will explode with devastating force.
-
The first Bloodthirster made a fatal error in focusing on Cameron, but the blades and fire were too much for it to ignore. It moves both weapons to try and ward off Cameron’s attacks. It doesn’t even see Sepher’s attack coming.
Sepher’s fist plunged into the daemon’s exposed back, ripping through flesh. The Bloodthirster shrieks, first in pain but then in horror as it feels the power from Sepher’s attack and realizes what is happening. It tries to escape but Cameron is there. He unleashes a psychic wave that drives the creature backwards, forcing Sepher’s fist deeper into it’s back. It loses itself to fear and pain. With nothing left to ground it, it’s soul is ripped from it’s body with ease, passing into Sepher. The lifeless corpse falls to the ground and begins to rapidly decay.
Cameron allows himself to fall to the ground. As he lands, he snaps a salute in Sepher’s direction.
“Good job. You’d think they would have figured out not to throw daemons at us by now.”
Cameron turns his attention to the other Bloodthirster just in time to see the coordinated attack from the rest of the companions.
All of the creature’s attention is pulled to Jharm as he charges headlong into battle. Almost blinded by the radiance spilling from Jharm’s hammer, the daemon brings both weapons to bear. Jharm’s hammer blow strikes the flat of it’s axe in a shower of sparks and ichor while it raises it’s whip to strike.
With this shift, it turns it’s back on Danyael’s echo completely. His uppercut to the spine catches it completely off guard as it rips through his weak rear armor, tearing through flesh and cracking bones. The monster loses it’s grip on it’s whip as it pitches forward directly into the path of Gulgrim’s green fire, which burns the daemon badly and draws it’s attention to the ork’s advance.
Realizing what is about to happen, the creature prepares to take to the air to try and avoid Gulgrim’s attack. But the repeated hails of gunfire aimed at it’s face cause it to falter and completely miss Soul Reaver’s approach. His spell strikes true and the Bloodthirster’s right foot is pinned to the ground by unnaturally sticky webbing just as it tries to leap. This causes it to stumble, and as Blooddrinker rips into the back of the creature’s leg, it drops to one knee.
A howl of pain rises from the crippled daemon, Gulgrim rips into it with his Kutlass and it raises it’s axe to try and bat him away. But it’s howl is abruptly cut off as Kitharsis strikes from above. Kitharsis’s overcharged pick strikes the back of it’s neck and the resulting explosion of force rips it’s head from it’s body. The rest of the companions who had been attacking this daemon are sprayed with a shower of blood and ichor as it’s corpse pitches forward to the ground. What’s left of it’s massive head lands next to Gulgrim. A foul stench rises as it begins to decay.
Seeing that his assistance is not needed, Cameron scans the rest of the battlefield. The Space Marines are mopping up the last of the Chaos forces and tending to their wounded. Cameron will need to join them and determine how many of them are still battle ready soon enough. But for now, he focuses on the other Elementals. All appear to be fine except for Mary, who is still unconscious. Cameron takes to the air and shortly lands next to the crystalline barrier that Danyeal created to protect her. Seeing Danyael inside it, Cameron speaks.
“It looks like this place should be secure enough for now. Is she okay?”
-
The echo, or rather Danyael - as they were all still very much the same person in spite of being physically separate - stands in awkward silence, mystified at what had just happened. He neither expected it to be that easy, nor did he expect... well, this. His entire body was covered in ichorous gore from the Bloodthirster. Not even his face was visible. Just two slits for eyes looking through a body sized pile of blackened vitae. The marines that weren't fighting looked at him and he looked to them, then looked away, then back at them, then looked away into absolutely nothing. A shrug came, then he sheepishly punted aside what might have been an eye... or a testicle. It all looked the same to him. He then looked to his comrade Kitharsis and gave what might have been a mix between a shrug and an open armed invitation, slopping gew unceremoniously around him. "You down for a Man Hug?"
The barrier unfolded itself mechanically to reveal the Nephilim Lord holding Mary in as gently a way as ever. He knew Cameron probably still didn't trust him. But hey. As far as he was concerned, the only ones Danyael could really mingle with already knew who they were. "We're in the Eye. Nothing's secure." Danyael said in deadpan. His own 'eyes' were proof enough of that. "As for my..." he stopped and said little else. Cameron wouldn't approve of their relationship. Or maybe he didn't care. "Not a scratch." clearly referencing her. He stood softly, careful not to wake her, his everworld cloak now draped around her to keep her from harm. In his arms, he softly pooled neutral energy through the cloak and into her, as her body should be able to condense and reform it by way of healing and mending. They two were compatible like that. The Nephilim Lord appeared different. Rejuvenated, sure. But different. Older, perhaps. This was the first time he and Cameron shared space together in what would seem like a life time ago. Several lifetimes, in point of fact. All things now considered, he had no more words to say.
-
The Seraphims hammer crashes against the Bloodthirsters axe, a shower of sparks and energy crackle around the area as angellic iron meets demonic corruption. The strike has the intended effect however, distracting the foul creature and allowing the other Companions to slay it. Even standing amidst the viscera left behind by the daemons passing, covered in ichor and entrails, the armor of the Seraphim glimmers with an inner light. Then a moment later the light intensifies quickly in a brief flash. When it clears, Jharms figure is clean, not a single trace of the vile creature on his large armored figure. His glowing orbs gaze over the battlefield. The Space Marines seem to be clearing out the few remaining pockets of Chaos forces and tending to their injured and dead. His gaze settles on Sepher. Though he did not directly witness the warrior claiming the other Bloodthirsters soul, the Seraphim can almost sense that that is what happened. Letting out a soft, almost imperceptible grunt of disapproval he takes to the air, moving off to assist the Marines with clean up and helping them take care of the injured.
-
A shower of black gore drenches Soul Reaver, and her rolls clear as the Bloodthirster's huge body pitches backward. It barely misses him, hitting the ground with a shuddering crash.
Soul Reaver draws a tired breath of relief that the combined assault had gone so well, and quickly establishes that between them, Cameron and Sepher have slain the other Bloodthirster as well.
He rises to his feet. The blood coats him still - with the exception of Blooddrinker, which remains pristine - but is quickly evaporating even as the Blooddthirster's body decays.
Surveying the area, it is clear that the loyalist Space Marines have won the day, with only a few scattered pockets of chaos forces still putting up a fight.
Jharm has already left to help the remaining Space Marines, and Danyael is giving Kitharsis an invitiation for a friendly 'hug', so Soul Reaver nods his appreciation for the assistance at the nearby Gulgrim. He then hefts Blooddrinker onto his shoulder and runs to assist Jharm in putting an end to the last traces of Chaos resistance.
-
"Feh. Zoggin' spikey ponces. Can't even fight proppa." Gulgrim grunted as he watched the Bloodthirster die before he got to properly set himself in motion. The area in general was quieting down, and Gulgrim's boyz were beginning to mill about, running out of chaos boyz to stomp as their numbers dwindled. The ork warboss spat on the dead Daemon's head before taking the time to look around.
"Lemme know when we'z movin'." Gulgrim shouted over to Cameron as the group began to commiserate and wrap up the battle as a whole. The kaptin himself thrust his kutlass into the ground, implanting it firmly so that he could reach down and pick up a discarded Chaos space marine helmet, the head of its previous owner still inside.
"Hehehe. Zoggin' 'ell, lad, somebody did a right number on you, eh?" Gulgrim chuckled, scooping out the largely liquefied head from the helmet. "Too slimy ta keep on me boss-pole, sorry lad." After removing the juice and gunk from the inside, he reached up and slammed the spiked helmet onto one of the many large wooden stakes that made up the trophy racks that lined his shoulders, adding yet another to his collection.
"Sooner or later I'z gonna 'ave ta start 'angin' dese less importan' 'elmets from me belt. Saw anuvva boss do dat, fought it was a kunnin' idea. Runnin' outta room on me normal racks. Gotta start savin' space fer da big kills." he mused to himself, brushing his hands off and taking his sword from the ground again before waiting for any indication that the group was moving on.
-
His horseman's pick connects directly, releasing a satisfying explosion. Realizing he may have over done it, Kitharsis rides the body of the bloodthirster to the ground as it crumples beneath him. It's severed head lands next to the ever eager Gulgrim, who promptly spits on it for good measure.
Kitharsis hops down from the demon's back, keeping his distance from the goo covered Danyael. His friend is gesturing for a hug while ichor and slop cascade their way down his body. Kitharsis can't shake his head No fast enough, while waving the gesture away.
"Thought you all smelled before. Please stay downwind until we find a shower." His stony cheeks crack with a grin.
-
As the soul of the Deamon passed into sepher, he could feel it's anger and rage flailing against his own self control. Will an iron will, he clamped down and soon found the soul of the Bloodthirster join the others in his mind, and he could feel the surge of power that came with it.
He looked up to see Cameron salute as he rips his arm out from the back of the Bloodthirster.
"What is theirs is mine" He grinned "What they haven't learned is their loss and my gain"
He turned to watch as the other Bloodthirster was slaughtered by his companions. The battle was quickly wrapped up but he finds himself the subject of an angelic gaze. He returned the stare, meeting the angel's eyes. He opened and clenched the gory fist a few times, showing he had complete control over his body before turning away. He had nothing he could do to help the wounded here.
Seeing as how some of the companions were already heading off to help finish mop up, he looked to Cameron for further instruction, in case something else was needed.
-
Cameron can’t help but chuckle at Danyael’s comment about the Eye being secure. The slight distortion caused by his helmet’s external vox unit makes this sound somewhat ominous. If he has any reaction to the line that Danyael cuts off, it is hidden from view by his face being covered. His gaze lingers on Mary for a moment longer as his helmet scans her vitals. Everything seems normal. Cameron speaks directly to her mind briefly.
When you make it back to your feet, we need to talk.
Cameron simultaneously speaks out loud to Danyael.
“Thanks for keeping her safe. I have to rally the troops.”
Having excused himself, Cameron breaks away and walks towards the center of the courtyard. The remaining Marines are starting to congregate here. Seeing Cameron approaching, they clap their right arms over their chests in a salute. Cameron returns it.
“Squad leaders, report.”
A few men with more ornate decorations on their armor step forward and speak with Cameron. It would seem that this force is the combined vanguard of the various Chapter’s main assault force. The bulk of the Marines are still holding the Eidolon Wastes. Cameron begins barking orders.
“Brothers, this is the new rally point. Clear this mess out and get a comm station up and running. I need to communicate with the Chapter Masters and the Fleet. We’ll use this location to stage our final push on the Spire. Get moving!”
The Marines holster weapons and begin to work. Three Grey Knights begin assembling a device, while the rest work on clearing bodies and rubble out of the area. A number of Apothecaries, each from a different chapter, begin setting up a makeshift triage area for wounded Marines. A few of the Marines begin stockpiling discarded weapons and ammunition from the fallen Marines, though they refuse to loot anything from the dead Chaos forces.
Soon the Grey Knights have finished assembling the comm station. Cameron approaches it and removes his helmet. Now tied into the Voxnet, he can finally see the status of all of the allied Marine forces. He soon has an open secure channel with the Chapter Masters on the ground, and his friend Admiral Benden aboard the Imperial Battlecruiser Revenant, the flagship of the Grey Knights chapter. They are soon engaged in muffled conversation.
Behind Danyael, Mary stirs. She can feel fresh energy coursing through her. She looks up and sees Danyael standing over her, and for a second, she imagines that her ordeal is over. That they are both out of the Eye. Maybe somewhere temperate. But then her vision clears and she sees the sky beyond Danyael, and comes back to her senses. She can’t help but smirk at the absurdity of the thought preceding it.
“How come you never take me anywhere nice?”
Mary returns to her feet, keeping the Everworld cloak around her for now. She would return it once she was pressed back into service. But Cameron appears to be occupied, so she chose to stay put for now and use this brief moment of peace to collect herself. She knows Cameron has requested to talk to her, but that can wait.
Across the battlefield, another Elemental’s eyes narrow as he takes in this scene. The usually happy go lucky Karyl glares at Mary from just outside of her field of vision. Kari walks up next to him and her eyes follow his gaze.
“Something wrong?”
Karyl huffs.
“She’s been spending a lot of time with that dude.”
Kari turns and faces Karyl.
“So what?”
Karyl rolls his eyes.
“What do you mean ‘So what?’ I thought her and I had something special, but apparently she’d rather be with this dude that we only just met. He’s not even one of us!”
Kari smirks.
“I thought she just enjoyed shooting you down constantly.”
Karyl makes a face, which causes Kari to laugh. Karyl isn’t amused.
“So glad you get to have a laugh at my expense, babe. But I don’t really find this funny!”
Kari stifles another laugh before continuing.
“You do remember that she’s not even our Mary, right? She’s from 5 years in the future. Our Mary isn’t even here.”
Karyl looks back towards Mary. Kari has a point.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Kari smiles.
“See? It’s no big deal! You probably just have a different relationship with her 5 years from now! Maybe you already dated and broke up or something!”
Karyl frowns again.
“Wait. That’s just as bad!”
Kari has already come to the realization that she’s not helping.
“Uhhh.... Hey, don’t we have something that we should be doing? Let’s go find Garr.”
Kari walks towards where the Marines are hurriedly setting up a checkpoint. Garr is helping them. Karyl shoots one more glance at Mary before following. As he does, a smile returns to his face.
“That just means I have 5 years to work my ‘Blue Lightning’ magic, baby. We’ll see who comes out on top.”
As Garr follows Kari, Cameron finishes his conversation and shuts down the comm link. He reaches out to the companions and the Elementals with his mind.
“The Marines are going to fortify this position. This is going to be our fallback point in case something goes wrong during the assault on the Spire. I’m having our 1st Company of Terminators join us for the final assault. We should also have air support once the fleet is in position.They weren’t actually able to triangulate our position on the ground until now. Probably due to Chaos interference.”
Cameron looks up to the Spire, towering overhead.
“We have a few minutes until everyone is in position. Prepare yourselves.”
-
Sepher stands where he is for a few moments, just breathing deeply, as if he were trying to catch his breath, but he did not appear winded. After a moment, he closed his eyes and the metal that formed his claws seemed to almost melt, forming into a liquid crimson silver that crawled up his arms, forming bracers. He shook his hands, blood from the bloodthirster. Opening his eyes, he looked down to his shredded coat with a sigh. He took it off, tossing it to the ground with not another look, his scale mail glinting oddly in the light here.
He turned towards Cameron then, who was staring up at the spire. Slowly moving to stand next to him, he folded his arms across his chest. He looked somehow older, as if this place were wearing on him.
"It's almost done then. One more push." he paused for a moment, then spoke again "Thank you for the assist back there, we make a good team."
-
He turned towards Cameron then, who was staring up at the spire. Slowly moving to stand next to him, he folded his arms across his chest. He looked somehow older, as if this place were wearing on him.
"It's almost done then. One more push." he paused for a moment, then spoke again "Thank you for the assist back there, we make a good team."
Cameron turns towards Sepher as he speaks.
"Yes. It is almost done. And don't mention it. I'm sure we'll have plenty more chances to help each other in the near future."
Cameron returns his gaze to the Spire. When he speaks again, sadness has seeped into his voice.
"We have lost so many of our companions on the way here. My only hope is that we're able to finally complete this hellish mission without losing any more."
-
Blooddrinker makes a grinding, crunching noise as Soul Reaver methodically forces it through a downed Chaos Marine's armour, putting the enemy out of his misery. As he sees the soul escape the body, he draws it into himself, denying the Chaos Gods another prize.
With a grunt, Soul Reaver rises and briefly looks over the area. Cameron is addressing the marines. Further away, he sees Mary get back up, clutching the Everworld cloak.
Soul Reaver's old eyes had seen enough that the fondness she held for Danyael was evident. Deep inside, he felt a swell of pity and briefly wondered if he should caution against such attachment, for he saw no way for it to end but in tears. But he knew better than to try and counsel either of them in this regard - such advice, no matter how well meaning, would only bring hostility even if they came from a friend. And Soul Reaver knew that they no longer considered him such.
Soul Reaver gives a quiet shake of his head, then begins hearing Cameron's message in his mind.
He sheathes Blooddrinker and adjusts his gauntlets as he slowly walks toward Cameron's position. He had been careful not to expend undue power in this battle, and he was likely as ready as he ever would be without a long rest.
As he approaches, he overhears Cameron's comment to Sepher and it gives him pause. He lowers his eyes in regret, for he knows just how much he is to blame for what has transpired. Rather than intrude on their conversation, Soul Reaver turns to face their goal, arms crossed and head lowered in stoic silence.
If nothing else, he would make his enemies pay.
-
He sighs gently, listening to Cameron talk about about the loss of their companions. It bid him to think of his own memories, taking him back to when his people had been destroyed.
"Don't worry" Sepher said softly, almost inaudibly. He noted Soul approaching and standing near them.
"I will do everything within my power to see the rest of us out of this forsaken hole" His words were spoken with such conviction, that it was hard not to believe him.
He looked over to soul and nodded, letting him know that his presence here was appreciated and not a regret. He knew all about what this place could do to a person, what it could do to a man's soul.
-
The echo slumps his shoulders in response to Kitharsis' comical rebuttal of 'affection'. "Oh fine, be that way." he shrugged before turning to some close by marines. "Here, hold this." sloppily throwing off the gore toward the marines before vanishing back into the ether, forcing them to scatter aside in all directions while spitting admonitions of "What's your bloody malfunction, mate?!", "Quite rude!", "You filthy jamote!" and "First of all, how dare you!" before they quizzically realized they were talking only to air.
On the other side of the Battlefield, the real Danyael looked Mary over, unable to help himself from admiring what he saw. The purest ferocity of nature all embodied within a single form. Perhaps he was a tinge biased, but he wouldn't at all be surprised if she didn't blame him. The everworld cloak looked good on her. In fact, it looked perfect - as if she was meant to wear it. And as far as he was concerned, the cloak, and all that came with it - the orden, the imperium and the nephilim lord himself - were hers. Though he'd learned to accpet the loneliness of his journey, both through the Eye and as the High Sovereign of the Imperium Sanctus, it was Mary that gave him that one spark of companionship that extended beyond any intimacy he'd ever experienced. And yet, there was something else.
Though he made no hint of it, something caught his attention. The problem with being connected to whatever world, dead or not, that he stood on is that he didn't have much choice in cutting himself off from it. And so even the subtlest of sensations did not go without his notice. Such as the vibrations of sound across a now dead battlefield. The sounds of disgust from a very grumpy elemental, for instance. It would be different if he spoke to his compatriot telepathically. Danyael wasn't a mind reader. But something as archaic as a physical voice? That was different altogether.
He turned to Mary and remembered that this was not quite the same woman he knew, though still very much the same woman. This was Mary from 5 years in the future. That came as a bit of a slap. No, it came as a cannon blast through the chest. So much can change in 5 years. He didn't say anything, as there was no need to mention anything. But he did offer her a place to sit by him. "When you've been lost for as long as I have, places don't matter nearly as much as the time spent with the ones who do." he sat down on what might have been a toppled pillar. "It would honor me for another moment. If you've time to share."
-
The Seraphim battles beside the Space Marines as they purge the remaining forces of evil from the battlefield. With the fighting at an end he heads over to the area that the Apothecaries have turned into their triage center. Setting his hammer down he moves amongst the wounded. From minor healing prayers, to applying bandages, to a simple bowed head as a soldier passes away he does his best to see to those around him. Once it is clear the Apothecaries have everything under control he makes his way over towards Cameron and the others. Extending his hand towards his weapon, the large hammer zips through the air and into his waiting grasp. Slinging the sledge over his shoulder he stops next to Cameron, his glowing orbs gazing up at the tower from behind his helm.
"Victory.....and vengeance...will be ours in the end Lord Aileron, have no fear. This evil shall fall before our combined might."
-
Danyael's echo vanishes after throwing slop all over the nearby marines. Kitharsis quickly moves away from them, not wanting to catch any of their now targetless frustration.
Cameron said they had a few minutes before their next advance. Kitharsis intends to take advantage of the lull and regain some pure energy. He hooks his horseman's pick to his belt before crossing his arms and closing his eyes. The purifying spark starts going to work on the dark Tirthandaran energy inside of him.
He opens his eyes, revealing a faint white glow. With deliberate steps, he walks through the battlefield until he notices Soul Reaver standing apart. Kitharsis nonchalantly approaches the solitary warrior. He doesn't speak to Soul Reaver, rather he absentmindedly inspects the contents of the many pouches and pockets on his belt.
Finding what he was looking for, Kitharsis produces a piece of what appears to be a red colored, thick gelatin. A small knife, also produced from the same bag, is used to cut the gelatin in half. He offers half of it to Soul Reaver.
"It's not much. A mix of sweet herbs and dried fruit." After a pause he adds, "A reminder of home."
-
He turned to Mary and remembered that this was not quite the same woman he knew, though still very much the same woman. This was Mary from 5 years in the future. That came as a bit of a slap. No, it came as a cannon blast through the chest. So much can change in 5 years. He didn't say anything, as there was no need to mention anything. But he did offer her a place to sit by him. "When you've been lost for as long as I have, places don't matter nearly as much as the time spent with the ones who do." he sat down on what might have been a toppled pillar. "It would honor me for another moment. If you've time to share."
Mary’s smirk turns into a full grin as Danyael speaks. She can’t help but feel flattered that Danyael would imply that she matters to him.
“You certainly know how to make a hot-tempered warp-infused warrior moments away from facing her own possible death feel like a lady.”
She takes the seat next to him. As she does so, she looks up at the top of the Spire. Like most Chaos structures, it is nearly impossible to tell how tall it actually is. But she can clearly make out the pure warp energy pouring out of it’s apex. Her eyes glow involuntarily as she stares into the vortex.
“So much power… but it’s completely corrupted. An abomination. Just like everything else here.”
Mary shudders as she rips her eyes away from the sight. In this moment, she feels very vulnerable. She has completely let her guard down for the first time in as long as she can remember. Her responsibilities and the fear of failing at them well up within her. In response, she sighs heavily and leans sideways, resting her full weight on Danyael.
“This is it, I guess. Everything we’ve worked for has come down to this. Saving everyone from this threat. Getting final retribution on the powers that brought an end to my people. Stopping Chaos from claiming any more lives. It’s all riding on us. And even though I know the end result… I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to do this. The responsibility of this is just too heavy for me. I’m not a leader, like him.”
Mary looks out at Cameron.
“He’s just lost the one thing that he cares about more than anything else in existence, and yet he keeps fighting. I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t know if I could keep fighting if I lost…”
Mary trails off as her eyes turn back to Danyael.
“I’m not a leader. I am a warrior. I fight to protect the people I love. And I think… that as long as you’re here fighting with us, that I can keep fighting forever. If that’s what it takes.”
-
.and vengeance...will be ours in the end Lord Aileron, have no fear. This evil shall fall before our combined might."
Cameron turns and regards the Seraphim standing next to him. Of all the companions remaining, he knows that Jharm is the most stalwart. He can rely on the angelic warrior until the end. He recalls something that was said in an earlier conversation.
"Lord Jharm. Earlier, you said that the power of the Seraph legions would be at my disposal if needed. What exactly did you mean by that?"
-
The Seraphim glances over at the Elemental as he is spoken to.
"Lord Jharm. Earlier, you said that the power of the Seraph legions would be at my disposal if needed. What exactly did you mean by that?"
Jharm chuckles softly and places a large hand on Camerons shoulder.
"Exactly as it sounds my friend. We have traveled together for quite some time, and during that time it has become clear to me that the taint of Darkness is clear within the enemy that we face. The name given might be different....but the point of origin is the same. Say the word and I shall do all that I can to ensure that the armies of the Light march upon this cursed plane and pave the way for us to bring justice to those responsibl and, at the least, cripple the agents of Darkness within this universe."
-
Soul Reaver's melancholy vigil is interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps, followed shortly afterward by a huge grey hand appearing before him, holding a small piece of fruit jelly.
"It's not much. A mix of sweet herbs and dried fruit," the deep and familiar voice rumbles.
"A reminder of home."
Soul Reaver takes the offered foodstuff and looks up over his shoulder at his towering companion. For a time, the stoic mask falls, replaced by a thin-lipped, weary smile - the kind of smile used by those who fear that by revealing it it may be taken from them. But the gratitude in the expression is nonetheless pure and true.
"Thank you Kitharsis"
Soul Reaver eats slowly and carefully, taking the time to savor the taste before speaking further.
"It may seem a small thing. Yet it is not."
He looks up at Kitharsis again.
"It is these small things that we fight for. That people may find comfort in the simple pleasures of home, beyond..."
He pauses for a moment, then sweeps his arm to encompass the pitted and corpse-strewn battlefield.
"...beyond all of this."
He becomes lost in thought for a moment.
"Sometimes I fear I may at some point forget that this is at the heart of my battles, the reason why I draw my blade."
He finishes the last tiny, gelatinous morsel, then once again directs that faint, grateful smile at Kitharsis.
"It is good to have someone remind me."
-
Kitharsis returns Soul Reaver's weary smile with one of his own. As Soul Reaver mulls over the gesture's meaning, Kitharsis nods as he chews on his own piece of the candied jelly. For a moment, two comrades share a sweet from home while surveying a battle won. A small moment given to a small thing. He won't admit it, but this was just as much for himself as Soul Reaver.
"...It is good to have someone remind me." Soul Reaver says, with another grateful smile.
"Do not forget. I fear I may run out of candy." Kitharsis's chest rumbles with a deep chuckle.
He finishes chewing his piece and lets out a heavy sigh. It seems that a bit of the weight of recent events has lifted from Kitharsis's shoulders.
"Come. We should prepare for what lies ahead."
-
Cameron nods as Jharm finishes speaking.
“Depending on what we find up ahead, we may be sorely pressed. Our scouts have indicated that we still haven’t seen the bulk of the Thousand Sons Chapter, which is extremely worrying. This is also the furthest that any Imperial forces have ever made it and lived to tell about it. We have no idea what to expect up ahead.”
Cameron glances back at Kitharsis and Soul Reaver as they share a small bit of sustenance. For a brief moment, Cameron allows his mind to wander outside of the Eye. What will the surviving companions do when they are done here? Where will fate take them next? Will they finally know peace? At least for a while? Or will it be straight to the next fight, the next battle, the next threat to life in the Multiverse?
“Lord Aileron.”
His thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice from behind him. He turns to face the Imperial assassin, Igtenos. Captain of the Watch for the Grey Knights chapter. He recalls back to when he held that title within the Blood Angels chapter. No responsibilities other than tracking down evil and bringing the might of the Imperium (and his companions) to bear. He again finds himself wishing that the mantle of responsibility had never been set upon him, but quickly shoves that to the back of his mind.
“Igtenos. Report.”
The assassin has certainly seen his share of fighting. His long coat is missing. The uniform underneath it is tattered. Beneath the uniform is a strange armor made of interlocking flexible metal plates. Some of the plates are scored with gashes and bullet marks and some of them are missing altogether. The mask that covers most of his face appears to be damaged. Bandages are wrapped around his torso, and a dark blackish red stain has spread to cover most of them. If any of this is impacting him at all, he fails to show it.
“We control the wasteland, and have cut off all entrances to the Labyrinth. We’ve purged all Chaos and any afflicted that we’ve come across. There may still be Chaos forces on the other planets in the system that haven’t responded yet. We’re monitoring the situation.”
Cameron nods.
“And your other mission?”
“We found the laboratory in question near the edge of this planetoid. It did indeed contain the equipment that you spoke of. We believe it was used to turn a number of psykers and other powerful creatures into fighting machines for the Chaos forces. But something broke out of it. Everyone there was dead and all of the other abominations already destroyed. Whatever did it was extremely powerful.”
Cameron sighs.
“And the laboratory?”
‘Destroyed, as ordered. Scorched earth.”
Cameron nods again. Hopefully no plans or blueprints of the machinery within that laboratory escaped their notice. Nothing as powerful or as awful as Peterson should ever be created again.
“New orders, then. Hold this position. Nothing gets to the Spire without my authorization. The last thing we need is to get attacked from behind.”
Igtenos flashes a salute and nods in acknowledgement of the other companions before walking away. Another marine in armor similar to Cameron’s has approached while Cameron was talking to Igtenos, and he now steps forward.
“Lord Aileron. The remaining Grey Knights are in route to this position. The 1st Company of Terminators have returned to the Revenant for resupply but will be joining us shortly.”
Cameron regards Captain Aldaris. Good soldier. Better leader. He’s been serving under Cameron since the Battle of Kelvaris, when they were both still Blood Angels. And thanks to recent events…
“Thank you, Captain. I have new orders for you as well.”
Cameron reaches into a pouch at his belt and pulls out a flat silver disk with a retractable handle, as well as a wax seal. The seal has a ribbon attached which has battle litanies used by the ancient Space Marines written in latin. Aldaris looks at the seal, surprise evident on his face.
“Lord Aileron, I-”
Cameron cuts him off with a raised hand. His eyes dart towards Soul Reaver before focusing back on Aldaris. There is a hard edge to his voice when he speaks.
“Master Captain Ryoki has fallen in combat. By my authority as Chapter Master, I am giving you a field promotion.”
Before Aldaris can protest, Cameron presses the wax seal up against his shoulder plate and sets the disk over top of it. There is a bright flash and a sizzling sound, and when he removes the disk, the wax has been sealed into the titanium plating with a strange symbol.
“You are henceforth known as Master Captain Aldaris. Second in command of the Grey Knights Chapter. You report directly to me from this point forward.”
Aldaris looks as if he is about to say something, but thinks better of it. He salutes instead. Cameron returns the salute.
“Let me know when the Terminators arrive. We need to move out.”
Aldaris nods and walks away. Cameron turns back to the Spire and falls silent.
-
--Elsewhere--
Below the Spire lies the Chaos hive. A spiderweb of a city built on top of the Chaos Labyrinth. It’s high-rises and massive structures mostly consist of housing for the various Chaos factions and factories for their weaponry and armor. The Imperial Marines have been clearing it block by block since the surrounding wasteland was secure. Near one of the upper levels, a patrol of Imperial Fist marines makes their way down another foul smelling street, looking for Chaos forces to engage.
The patrol consists of 20 Tactical marines, a Rhino troop transport tank with a mounted heavy bolter, a Predator Annihilator-pattern tank, and a Thunderhawk hovering overhead. As they move, one of the Tactical marines uses a scanner to check each building for life signs. So far they have found none during this sweep. Which is why they are very surprised when a shrouded figure steps from an alleyway and into their midst. He speaks in a frail voice.
“Oh, hello. Don’t mind me. Just passing through.”
The marines immediately turn on the figure. Their sergeant speaks.
“HALT! Remain still or we will open fire! Drop any weapons that you are carrying and raise your hands above your head!”
The figure sighs heavily.
“You see, I try to give these fools a chance. Every time. But they never listen to me.”
The figure’s black shroud is ripped to shreds as chains fly in all directions. 4 marines fall instantly. The rest open fire, but whirling chains deflect the bolter rounds away from the figure. The figure seems to unfold and become much taller than he initially appeared. Peterson laughs.
“Come on, guys! Can’t we just talk this out?”
One of the marines charges him with a chainsword and is impaled on the Talon of Horus, which cuts through his power armor like it was paper. Peterson darts to his left, cutting another marine’s legs off with Drach’nyen while his chains rip two more off their feet and throw them into the nearby buildings. The marine on top of the Rhino opens fire with his heavy bolter. The hail of heavy rounds temporarily drives Peterson back. Peterson laughs again.
“Hahaha… okay. Fine! We’ll do it the fun way!"
Peterson leaps into the air as his chains wrap tightly around him. He lands on the marine firing the heavy bolter, driving him straight into the Rhino. Seconds later, the Rhino explodes in a wave of fire and chaos energy, sending shrapnel and chunks of the marines that were inside flying in every direction. As the smoke clears, Peterson comes back into view, soaked in blood and smiling. The remaining marines look on, horrified.
“What abomination is this? OPEN FIRE!”
The remaining marines open fire, as does the Thunderhawk in the sky. Behind Peterson, the Predator is charging it’s twin-linked lascannon for a shot. Peterson, meanwhile, is still laughing.
“Yes. YES. Keep it up! I LOVE this!”
Peterson charges forward just as the las blast hits, missing him completely. He spins as he hits the crowd of marines, and the whirling chains, talon, and daemon blade rip them apart. Shaking the last two off of his Talon, he reels as another volley of fire from the Thunderhawk hits him. He hears the lascannon behind him preparing to fire as well.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Peterson extends a hand and a volley of chains slam into the Thunderhawk, penetrating its hull in multiple places. The pilots panic and try to ascend, but Peterson grabs the chain in both hands and hauls backwards. The Thunderhawk gunship is yanked out of the air and over his head, it’s turbines whining in protest. As Peterson follows through with his swing, the ship plunges into the Predator tank just as it’s lascannon fires. Both the tank and the gunship are consumed in a huge blast. Peterson chuckles as debris falls all around him.
“HIGHLY amusing. These guys are way more fun to kill than your Chaos soldiers. They enjoy it less.”
A voice rings out in Peterson’s mind.
If you’re quite finished, we’re here for a reason.
Peterson glances to the sky while he absentmindedly twirls Drach’nyen in one hand.
“Right, right. Refresh my memory. Why are we here again?”
Because we need something from my office. Which you fortunately managed to avoid destroying.
Peterson finds his gaze drawn to a large building just to his left.
“Okay. Sounds boring! But whatever. Let’s get it over with.”
Peterson begins trudging across the street.
And please don’t forget the package. We need it.
“Oh, right! I almost forgot. Boy, do I feel silly!”
Peterson giggles maniacally as his chains fly back into the alley that he emerged from. They retract carrying a large black plastic bag. Peterson grabs it and slings it over his shoulder.
“There we are! All set! Let’s go check out your office!”
Peterson finishes stalking over to the building. A massive security door stands in his way. He kicks it in like it’s made of plywood and steps inside.
-
She takes the seat next to him. As she does so, she looks up at the top of the Spire. Like most Chaos structures, it is nearly impossible to tell how tall it actually is. But she can clearly make out the pure warp energy pouring out of it’s apex. Her eyes glow involuntarily as she stares into the vortex.
His gaze, too, was drawn to the spire. In some very twisted way, the structure reminded him of some of the upper summit towers of Sacntuary. The only real difference was... well... they weren't monoliths of collective chaos energies. Though the spire was quite possibly horrid to behold in the physical sense, through Danyael's eyes, it was almost hypnotizing to behold. Almost. It seemed, much to his own gratitude, that all energies around him gravitated toward one figure. Mary. And so he averted his gaze from the Spire to the woman he cared for most.
Mary shudders as she rips her eyes away from the sight. In this moment, she feels very vulnerable. She has completely let her guard down for the first time in as long as she can remember. Her responsibilities and the fear of failing at them well up within her. In response, she sighs heavily and leans sideways, resting her full weight on Danyael.
He cradled her at the exact moment she rested into him, completing the motion with a relaxing exhale. In the midst of everything around them, they could still find a semblance of solace between them.
“This is it, I guess. Everything we’ve worked for has come down to this. Saving everyone from this threat. Getting final retribution on the powers that brought an end to my people. Stopping Chaos from claiming any more lives. It’s all riding on us. And even though I know the end result… I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to do this. The responsibility of this is just too heavy for me. I’m not a leader, like him.”
He didn't want to ask and he knew that she knew that he didn't want to ask. He asked anyway... "Are we..." he stopped and changed his mind. He shouldn't ask. And so, instead, he didn't. But the mention of her people, or rather the calamity that brought an end to them. That caught his attention even more. Just what did she see? What happened? How could it have happened? And more importantly, could it have been avoided? Could they have been defended? If Danyael had known Mary long before this happened, then the answer would have damn well been clear as crystal.
“He’s just lost the one thing that he cares about more than anything else in existence, and yet he keeps fighting. I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t know if I could keep fighting if I lost…”
If she lost... what? If she lost... who? He didn't have to guess. She knew that she was held dearest in his heart. He nestled her closer, his head lightly pressed to hers. He didn't say anything at first, as he felt it appropriate to wait in case she'd more to say. And more she did, indeed. And that was perfectly fine with him.
“I’m not a leader. I am a warrior. I fight to protect the people I love. And I think… that as long as you’re here fighting with us, that I can keep fighting forever. If that’s what it takes.”
"I didn't originally know how to come back, you know. Not at first. I was so full of rage, jealousy, foolishness. Not the best qualities to the sovereign of an empire, I'll admit. And all three resulted in a great many consequences I've yet to fully map. To name a few: I'd lost my sight. I feel pain and bliss all at once. I'm taunted and tormented by visions I cannot fully understand, even now. And the specters in said visions remind me that I am the only one of my kind. A mutant hybrid with no bloodline to speak for. That I am, unequivocally, alone." but he wasn't finished. "And yet, in my exile, I didn't think of the end of my torment. I didn't think of returning to the Imperium Sanctus. All I could do was think only of you. You are, and ever will be, my beacon. You, and you alone, are the one being in all existence that I seek to be better for. To be greater for."
"I don't think causes need leaders." he said, mentally laughing at the fact that he was the leader of a nation that held dominion over entire multiverses, "Not so much as that I believe causes need the conviction of those who take it upon themselves to see it through. You don't have to be a leader. You only have to possess the school of thought to focus on what matters most and why it's worth fighting for. You are my focus, my aim, my light. It is solely because of you that I'm here. Every time death came close, all I had to do was close my eyes and see you - and that was all I needed. That was enough. You are enough. One day, when I've been deemed worthy of you, perhaps I'll be, too."
By way of his will or something beyond, the everworld cloak expanded to where it wrapped around them both. It was moments like these that he cherished most. The moments of respite, no matter how fleeting, were worth every second that lasted. He didn't say anything else, as speaking was no longer his trademark. But he knew that she knew what he was thinking. That this was what kept him going. She made him better. Few people did. But she made him better.
With the spire in the distance, Danyael mused to himself and reached deep within the fabrics of the Everworld cloak, grabbing hold of and bringing out what appeared to be a gourd flask of mulled wine. "Knew I had that hidden away." he offered her first sip. "Now it's an ideal romantic outing." cherishing any moments left before the final push.
-
"You are my focus, my aim, my light. It is solely because of you that I'm here. Every time death came close, all I had to do was close my eyes and see you - and that was all I needed. That was enough. You are enough. One day, when I've been deemed worthy of you, perhaps I'll be, too."
Mary looks into Danyael's eyes. Her own violet eyes still glow from the latent warp energy nearby. Danyael can almost see storm patterns swirling within them.
"You're already worthy. You always have been."
She mulls over his partially asked question from before. Now would not be the right time to answer it. This place would not be the right place. Maybe once they were done here...
With the spire in the distance, Danyael mused to himself and reached deep within the fabrics of the Everworld cloak, grabbing hold of and bringing out what appeared to be a gourd flask of mulled wine. "Knew I had that hidden away." he offered her first sip. "Now it's an ideal romantic outing." cherishing any moments left before the final push.
"Now we're talking."
Mary grins as she takes the flask from him. She takes a drink without bothering to see what it is first. Probably a dangerous prospect were it anyone other than him offering. She sighs contentedly as she hands the flask back.
"That is amazing. You're going to have to tell me where you got that later."
Mary closes her eyes, allowing the final moments of respite to set her at ease.
Cameron stands a few yards away, still looking at the Spire in stoic silence. He is decidedly not at ease. Radio chatter in his headset has just alerted him to an entire squad of marines lost in the Chaos city. The other Chapter Masters are confused, since most of the resistance there had been wiped out. Cameron glances over his shoulder. The Terminators are taking far too long to arrive.
As he looks back, he sees Danyael and Mary out of the corner of his eye. For a split second, he registers annoyance, but then his features soften. He turns away sadly.
Enjoy what you have while you have it. Nothing is permanent. Especially not in this line of work.
A lesson learned the hard way. Cameron doesn't bother broadcasting that to anyone. No point in ruining anyone else's moment of respite. Instead, he allows his mind to reach out into the surrounding city. Maybe he can figure out what's going on down there.
-
--Elsewhere--
Peterson taps his clawed foot impatiently. He has crammed himself into an elevator which is slowly rising through the building.
“I know I already asked you this…”
Then don’t ask.
“...but WHY are we taking the ELEVATOR.”
Because I didn’t trust you to break into my office from outside without destroying it.
“And why the hell is your office not in the Chaos Spire? I thought you were one of the big bad Chaos Lords.”
I had suspicions that Ahriman was working against me. I had to have a place out from under his gaze.
Peterson rolls his one good eye as the elevator door finally opens. He steps through and returns to his full height. The elevator starts to close and he quickly reaches back in and grabs the large plastic bag he’s been carrying.
“I still find it hard to believe that an ancient powerful Chaos Lord, feared across the universe, would need an office.”
Peterson chuckles to himself.
Can we just get on with it?
“NOW who’s impatient?”
Peterson passes through a set of double doors and reaches some kind of reception area. There are no chairs. Vile paintings depicting torture and death line the walls. A small skull servitor hovers over what appears to be a receptionist desk. It beeps at Peterson.
“Aww, someone forgot to tell your secretary that the office is closed.”
Peterson approaches the door that’s next to the desk. He winds up as if to kick it open.
Stop.
“What now?”
If this door is forced open, the entire room will be flooded with superheated plasma. It will destroy everything inside.
“Oh. FUN. So what do we do about this?”
Peterson gestures to a strange looking panel next to the door.
It’s coded to my genetic material. Do you have it?
Peterson feigns confusion for a moment.
“Oh yeah! I have it.”
He reaches into a recess in his armor and pulls out a hunk of decaying flesh, which he proceeds to smear across the panel before tossing it on the floor. It leaves a bloody streak behind, The panel beeps.
“Welcome, Lord Abbadon.”
Peterson scoffs as the security door slides open.
“So what did you do? Cut yourself every time you needed in here?”
Yes.
“How edgy.”
Peterson takes pleasure in the feeling of irritation that he can feel radiating from Abbadon’s presence in his mind. He steps into the office.
-
--Elsewhere--
Peterson glances around the office as he enters. Other than additional paintings of scenes of torture and death, this office could belong to any of the fat cat corporation CEOs on a human world. The major difference was the huge archaic looking computer system that dominated the corner of the room. And the pentagram-shaped spell circle that had apparently been drawn in blood on the floor. And that there wasn’t a chair.
“There’s no chair.”
I don’t sit.
“Fair enough!”
Along the side of the wall opposite the computer system is a large painting of Chaos warships emerging from the Eye of Terror. The caption reads “The First Black Crusade.” Peterson carefully removes it from the wall and sets it aside, revealing a massive safe. Peterson sheathes Drach’nyen and sets the Talon of Horus aside.
The combination to the safe is-
Abbadon’s voice cuts off as Peterson jams both of his skeletal metal hands straight through the safe door. There is the sound of screeching metal and crackling electronics as he rips the door completely off the safe and throws it aside.
“Sorry, friend! But this is taking entirely too long.”
And how did you know that I didn’t have that trapped as well?
‘Call it a hunch. Who traps a safe in a room that’s already trapped? Seems overkill, if you ask me.”
Peterson is grinning. He honestly hadn’t given much thought to whether or not the safe was trapped. He just didn’t care. And Abbadon seemed to know that.
Fine. Just get what we came for.
In the safe, next to an ancient bolt pistol and a number of other artifacts of Crusades past, is a dried piece of parchment. Peterson removes this and regards it.
“So what is this that we came the whole way over here for?”
My contingency plan. It’s a page from Ahriman’s book. Some ritual he stole from the Black Library, no doubt.
“And what does it do?”
It gets me out of your body.
“And thus ends our contract! I can't say it hasn't been fun...”
No. I will still be very weak. I will need you to bring me to the Spire.
Peterson scoffs.
“And why would I do that? What’s the point? You got what you want from me. Maybe I just want to go do my own thing now.”
For a moment, Abbadon is silent. Peterson stares out the nearby window at the smoking city. He can feel other Space Marines out there. It would be entirely too amusing to dart around the city, killing as many as he could. He is about to suggest this when Abbadon speaks up again.
You know, that is only one page of Ahriman’s “spell book” as he calls it. There are plenty more. Including one about how to turn powerful warriors into obedient fighting machines.
The smile fades from the exposed portion of Peterson’s face.
The project that made you? It was Ahriman’s idea. His last chance at making something that kept the physical body intact but gave him the same control as his Rubric. It failed, of course.
Peterson is deathly still.
He had us pull people into the Eye from all over. Wherever we could detect a powerful unshielded Chaos signal. Sound… familiar?
Peterson is still for a moment longer. When he opens his one good eye, it is filled with Chaos fire.
“I appear to have a new name on my list.”
Good. Then we are in agreement. Help me with this ritual, and then we will go together.
Peterson turns his attention back to the parchment in his hand.
‘Where do we start?”
-
“Depending on what we find up ahead, we may be sorely pressed. Our scouts have indicated that we still haven’t seen the bulk of the Thousand Sons Chapter, which is extremely worrying. This is also the furthest that any Imperial forces have ever made it and lived to tell about it. We have no idea what to expect up ahead.”
The Seraphim nods in understanding. Noticing the other Space Marines waiting to speak with Cameron, he turns and moves away a few paces as he prepares to see to preparations. His glowing eyes slide shut as he begins to focus inward. His thoughts reach out, the Seraphim visibly struggling as he fights through the chaos of the Eye. He then feels a calming, strengthening presence on his mind as he senses the Council of Light aiding him. Finally, at great effort he reaches the mind of the one he seeks. A sense of surprise strikes him as the other was clearly not expecting the contact.
Seraphim! We have not heard from you in some time. The Council had informed us of you entering a dark and malevolent area and that myself and Lord Drayvon were to see that everything be made ready should you need us.
That is correct Nethanya, in fact it is likely only with their help that I am able to reach you now. They were wise to suggest such a thing as we likely shall be needing the Armies of Light soon. See that all forces are mobilized and ready to depart at a moments notice. Gather the Voice Caste, what we will be trying will certainly require all of our efforts.
It shall be done Seraphim. May the glory of the Light watch over.
You as well Seranna
Turning back to the group Jharm notices that Cameron is once more silently gazing up at the foreboding structure before them. Returning to the Elementals side the Seraph clears his throat softly.
"My armies are mobilizing as we speak. Simply say the word and they shall march forth alongside your Space Marines."
-
--Elsewhere--
As you can see, I’ve already completed the spell circle. You just need to place the vessel in the center, feed it Chaos energy, and incite the incantation. I’ll take care of the rest.
Peterson glances down at the intricate spell circle.
“And who’s blood was that inscribed in?”
Too many mortals to count.
Peterson hefts the black bag he is carrying into the center of the circle.
If you’re not going to remove the vessel from the bag before we start, at least unzip it.
Abbadon does not sound amused, so Peterson dutifully reaches down and unzips the bag. He then touches the spell circle, feeding his power into it. Soon the entire circle and all of the runes inscribed within it glow with a green fire.
“Okay. Now what?”
The incantation.
Peterson stares at the parchment for a long moment. He grins
“I can’t read this, you know.”
Abbadon sighs.
Hmm. Right. Let me fix that.
Peterson feels Abbadon’s presence fill his mind for a moment, and his vision flashes red. When it clears, he can now understand the archaic characters printed on the parchment.
“That’s more like it! Okay… let’s start from the top…”
As Peterson begins speaking, he can hear Abbadon’s voice doubling over his, as if they were chanting in unison.
”Mutata in interitu, et domini. Nos quaerere potentia. Transferamus vas animam inanem, et reddere vitae statum. Ut sit vas tuum imple potestatem ad ministerium vestrum. Hanc vitam carnis et fingunt illam tuam. Famulórum, Tzeentch!”
As Peterson invokes the name of the God of Change, a blinding flash consumes everything in the room.
Cameron is suddenly jolted alert as a huge surge of power washes through the area. It did not come from the spire, but behind them. Cameron quickly turns around. A column of white and purple energy has erupted from the city below.
“What was that?”
Mary also leaps to her feet. The surge of power she felt is tainted with pure warp energy. Not the stuff all around them here in the Eye, but power fed straight from deep in the Warp itself.
“That can’t be good…”
Cameron rushes to the comms equipment.
“Fleet, Chapter Masters, report!”
For the moment, there is no reply but static.
-
Soul Reaver barely has time to nod in reply to Kitharsis before a sudden burst of malign power washes over him - a pulse of twisting Chaos energy, far more intense than the ambient energies encountered here within the eye. He looks over his shoulder at the pillar of unwholesome light. When he turns back to look at Kitharsis, his expression has hardened once more.
"We may have less time to prepare than we would have liked."
Spotting Cameron at the communication equipment, Soul Reaver sprints toward his location. He can hear Cameron trying to connect to the fleet, with little luck.
Soul Reaver stands ready should Cameron call the companions to arms.
-
The radiant warrior spins around as a massive surge in power is felt behind him. His gleaming orbs focus on the beam of light that manifests in front of them, the Chaos within it clearly evident.
"This can't be good."
His gaze focuses on the Warp Elemental as Cameron rushes forward to try and raise the Space Marine forces on the radio. Flying through the air he lands next to Mary, his gaze still focused on the spot from where the light appeared, even as he speaks to her.
"M'lady, what is it? Could you tell what caused that?"
The Seraphims grip on his sledge tightens as a few possibilities cycle through his mind as he waits to see what Mary says.
-
Kitharsis is physically jostled as the tainted wave of energy washes over him. His walking meditation is abruptly cut short, the peaceful moment shattered by the explosive reminder of the current situation.
"We may have less time to prepare than we would have liked." Soul Reaver states, with a once again hardened expression. Kitharsis returns a nod before Soul Reaver sprints off to join Cameron at the communications device.
The bony wings on his back stretch out to their full sprawl. With a yawn, the tiny skeleton mage still perched upon his shoulders stretches itself awake. It would appear that his meditation nearly put his skeleton companions to sleep. Any damage they accrued during the battle has mended itself. An odd side effect, and one that he takes note of.
His wings flap, carrying him into the air. He lands next to Cameron and the others, a gust of dry desert air accompanying him.
"That does not bode well. What is our next move, Cameron?"
-
Mary looks to the Seraphim as he lands near her. She is quick to answer his question.
“I can’t tell what caused it, no. But I know it pulled energy from deep in the Warp. Far deeper than I’ve ever gone. Or care to go, for that matter.”
Mary had left the Everworld cloak with Danyael when she stood up. She now offers him a hand, even as she draws her mundane sword with the other.
“Sorry our moment got cut short. Maybe next time we’ll have more time.”
Cameron has meanwhile finally raised the Fleet and the other Chapter Masters.
“So you’re saying that came from the same location where the patrol was lost?”
Cameron pauses as he listens to the reply.
“No. Don’t send anyone there. Too dangerous. We have no idea what caused it. Hold position for now. I’ll have someone check into it.”
Cameron looks to Igtenos, who was standing to his right. He had been working on mending his armor, but snaps to attention when Cameron makes eye contact. Cameron doesn’t say anything, simply nodding at the assassin, who immediately replies.
“As ordered.”
In the blink of an eye, Igtenos is gone, leaving a faint afterimage where he stood. Cameron turns his attention back to the radio equipment.
-Elsewhere-
As Peterson’s vision clears, he quickly gets his bearings. He can feel his remaining flesh literally crawling as mutations attempt to take hold. He focuses, and the remaining organic parts of his body right themselves.
“That was unpleasant.”
Peterson can tell that Abbadon is no longer present. The daemon sword Drach’nyen, still clutched in his right talon, has fallen dormant. His eyes are drawn to the spell circle as he detects movement.
The lines formally written in blood are now scorched into the floor. The black bag in the center stirs, and a pale figure rises from it. For the moment, the figure is completely still. Peterson tenses. Was the figure standing before him Abbadon, or was it…
“You better let me know real fucking fast if this worked… cause otherwise I’m going to undo it.”
The figure’s eyes fly open. Red light washes over Peterson’s features. He grins.
“So it DID work. Welcome back to the land of the semi-living.”
The figure speaks, it’s voice strained. Although the pitch is different and it sounds a millenia younger, it is clearly the voice of the Despoiler.
“This is certainly going to be an adjustment. I haven’t occupied a vessel this young in a long time.”
Peterson studies Abbadon’s new form for a moment before speaking.
“Should we go test it out first, or are we heading straight for the main event?”
“We must reach the Spire. But there’s one other thing I must do first.”
Abbadon turns and makes his way to the massive computer in the corner of the office. It responds as he approaches, babbling at him in a dead language. Abbadon gestures and barks something in return. Far above them, at the top of the building, generators roar to life. Peterson can feel the building shuddering.
“What’s this?”
“Phase 2. It’s time to bring everyone home.”
-
“I can’t tell what caused it, no. But I know it pulled energy from deep in the Warp. Far deeper than I’ve ever gone. Or care to go, for that matter.”
The Seraphims gaze focuses on Mary, a hint of dread in his tone as he speaks.
"So....only something truly insane and chaotic could have done that...."
His eyes shift back to gaze at the spot where the light appeared. His voice lowers so only Mary (and Danyael) could hear him
"It would seem quite likely that Peterson has made a re-appearance."
He gazes up at the Spire as he ponders which direction Cameron shall send them in, especially if he has come to the same conclusion as the Seraphim.
-
--Elsewhere--
At the top of the office building that Abbadon and Peterson occupy, a massive transmitter activates . The unit buzzes and hums as huge amounts of power are fed into it. The noise is loud enough to make patrols all over the Chaos city stop and look around for the source, and those closest to the building can feel the ground trembling.
Cameron recoils as both the radio equipment and the radio in his helmet release a squeal of static and interference. The other marines also recoil, despite not being tuned into the same frequency. Cameron flips through screens as he tries to find a clear signal, but every channel he tries is the same.
“Something’s disrupting our communications. We can’t get a lock on anything!”
In the office, Peterson presses his clawed hand against the nearest wall, feeling the massive vibrations running through the building. The whole place feels like it could shake apart at any moment. Abbadon speaks a few more words at the computer again and it chirps in acknowledgement.
“This will just take a moment.”
Peterson steps away from the wall and looks towards Abbadon. He’s still not used to addressing an actual person instead of a voice inside his head. And this form that Abbadon has taken makes it even more jarring.
‘Take your time, really! I’m in no rush. Though if this building collapses, I might not be able to find you before you suffocate.”
Abbadon chooses to ignore this. Instead, the Despoiler places his hand on another panel beside the terminal. It lights up and the terminal makes a whistling noise. A recording begins to play.
A crackling noise bursts from the radio equipment. A familiar voice follows. The marines can hear the transmission over every communication channel they possess, but it is clear the message is not meant for them.
“Brothers and sisters. Acolytes of Chaos. This is Ezekyle Abaddon, the Despoiler. Warmaster of Chaos. Right hand of Horus. Leader of the Black Legion. And if you’re hearing this message, then I have fallen.
For some of you, this is coming as a surprise. Our ‘leader’, Ahzek Ahriman, formerly of the Thousand Sons, formerly exiled, brought to power through backhanded treachery, has betrayed us all once again. Despite the enemy being on our very doorstep, he failed to issue a recall order. He did this intentionally. What master plan of his he is enacting, I cannot be certain. But the accursed Adeptus Astartes, our weakling former brothers, have smashed through our defenses and now occupy our home, the Eye of Terror."
Cameron has been trying to contact the other Chapter Masters to no avail as Abbadon’s message is relayed. Finally, with no other option, he opens his mind. His eyes burn a bright blue as he reaches out to the other chapter Librarians.
We need to block this message somehow!
Peterson listens as Abbadon’s pre-recorded words echo through the empty office.
“You really had this all figured out, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I had a feeling that this would happen. And I have prepared well.”
As the message continues to play, Abbadon turns to face Peterson.
“We’re done here. It’s time to move.”
-
Abbadon’s message continues.
“Our weak brothers are not alone. They are lead by a group of powerful warriors. The same warriors that destroyed Khronos at the Battle of Aldrean. I engaged them directly in combat, but if you are hearing this, then even my mighty, terrible power has failed me, and I have been slain. The rest of the Chaos Lords are missing. They either hide in the Spire with Ahriman, traitors to our cause, or they have been somehow waylaid by him. But we are defenseless. Even now our enemies make for the gates of the Spire. And still Ahriman does not call for the Fleets. He is waiting for them to get to him. Does he plan to join them? Bend them to his will? No matter. His plan is not the will of Chaos. It is not the will of Chaos to let our ancient enemy destroy our seat of power.
We will not sit and wait for Ahriman’s plans to come to fruition. For too long we have sat idle while his machinations bring us to ruin. It was his plans that lead to Khronos being on Aldrean in the first place. He knew that our youngest, most promising Lord would not wait. So he disposed of him and attracted these “Companions” to our home at the same time. And now they are here. And they need to be destroyed.
Summon your forces. Make haste back to the Eye of Terror. Flush these invaders out of our strongholds. Reclaim our kingdom. And as you do, know you do not fight alone.
Because if you are hearing this, then I have returned. The Great Gods of Chaos have restored me. And I will bring the fight to these warriors, and annihilate them. And then I will see Ahriman burn.”
The message ends. The lines of communication fall silent. And seconds later, as the Marine’s radio communications are restored, Chaos gates begin to open all across the planet. The Legions have returned.
-
“Something’s disrupting our communications. We can’t get a lock on anything!”
Then suddenly as if in response, the comms suddenly come to life. With a THUD, the Seraphims large sledge slams into the ground as he releases his grip in surprise.
"No...how is it possible?"
They had defeated him. Eliminated his foul, malevolent presence from the universe. Hadn't they? Moving closer to the equipment he listens to the words of the Despoiler, a scowl hidden behind his helm.
Abaddon has returned. This does not bode well for us at all.
Then as the communication from the Chaos Lord comes to an end, Jharm begins to sense the flashes of power as Chaos Warp Gates tear open throughout the region, undoubtedly signalling the return of the vast Legions that the Despoiler was directing his message to.
They....we....were not prepared for this. They will be overrun. No....I won't let that happen.
Clearing his thoughts, the angellic warrior focuses once more as he works to connect Nethanya, the Council once more lending their distant aid to help his efforts. This time it is seems easier, undoubtedly she was awaiting such an attempt.
Seraphim, we have pre---
Seranna, there is no time. We have been played for fools here. I was hoping perhaps only a contingent of our forces would be needed here. That is no longer the case. The entire might and fury of the Light will clearly be needed here. I want everything and everyone prepared and ready....even the Colossi.
The Colossi? Seraphim, are you sure? They have been dormant for quite some time, their unbound fury has not been needed for many a year.
Yes Seranna, I am sure. They may prove to be a deciding factor in what is about to happen here.
As you command Seraphim, it shall be done. Everything shall be ready. Light be with you.
You as well Seranna
Jharm returns to the events surrounding him, his focus turning once more to the Fire Elemental, the warriors right gauntlet stretching out, his large sledge whizzing through the air into his grip before once more resting on his shoulder.
"Lord Aileron, what is our plan of attack?"
-
"It would seem quite likely that Peterson has made a re-appearance." Jharm surmises.
Peterson will need to be dealt with, in due time. There is so much danger here, in The Eye.
Cameron's communication device crackles and whines. Kitharsis frowns. The marines should have better equipment for such a mission. He cannot fathom how-
“Brothers and sisters. Acolytes of Chaos. This is Ezekyle Abaddon, the Despoiler..."
Kitharsis's hands clench into tight fists at the sound of Abaddon's voice. He listens to the apparent recording. Some futile scare tactic used by the Chaos forces to break their will, surely.
"...Because if you are hearing this, then I have returned. The Great Gods of Chaos have restored me. And I will bring the fight to these warriors, and annihilate them. And then I will see Ahriman burn.”
Without time to process the last foreboding piece of the message, Kitharsis feels multitudes of Chaos gates tearing open across the planet. That many gates will spew forth legions.
He unslings his horseman's pick and rests the shaft on his shoulder.
"It appears we have company."
-
Soul Reaver listens in on the transmission, his mouth set in a thin, grim line.
So, Abaddon really has returned from death. I will have to ensure it sticks next time.
He feels the buckling in space-time as chaos gates open throughout the eye. However, he is already thinking rapidly, turning to address Cameron.
"It seems Abaddon is planning to use us as sacrificial pawns in an of internal power-play against this Ahriman."
He tries to remember what he knows of this figure.
"If I recall correctly, Ahriman is one of the mightiest sorcerers amongst the forces of Chaos, and the power behind the Thousand Sons Marines... and if he is in some way fighting Abaddon's forces, it might explain why we have not seen the Thousand Sons amongst them..."
He cocks an eyebrow as an idea presents itself. He speaks to Cameron telepathically, so the other marines will not hear, for they would certainly not be amenable to his suggestion.
My guess is that Ahriman is the weaker player in this particular game, at least at the present time. And we are caught in the middle.
As much as we have reason to despise him, there is a saying: 'my enemy's enemy is my friend'. How likely is it that Ahriman would be amenable to a temporary alliance so that we can assist each other against Abaddon and Peterson? It would certainly be in his best interests, and it would bolster our own forces against a possibly superior opponent.
He pauses before finishing the thought.
Or would we simply be exchanging one horror for a far worse one?
-
While Gulgrim paid little mind to the message as the recording played, he did make note of the fact that everyone else seemed to be preparing for a fight.
"We'z 'eadin 'fer a scrap? 'Ooz dis abby-don? Sounds like a propa git. We'z gonna krump 'im gud? I'z bloody itchin' fer a fight."
It seemed that Gulgrim was either supremely confident, or completely ignorant of the threat that Abaddon posed. Potentially both. But despite this, one could almost feel the sudden shift in his demeanor. At the prospect of a fight, especially a dangerous one, approaching, the oafish, idiotic-seeming Warboss who had just been searching for a trophy disappeared. His grin became less jovial and more sadistic, his massive fingers drumming expectantly on the hilt of the kutlass at his side. His posture straightened, and he pulled the slide on his massive shoota with a single hand. The occasional spark of jade-colored lightning around his form betrayed the building power welling up inside the greenskin.
It was a return to the stance of the Warboss who had been so very eager to get into a fight with the possessed Soul Reaver. When the chaos gates begin to open, the green lightning flares up around his frame, forming an arcing aura of menace.
"Alright. 'Ere we go. 'Ere we go. 'ERE WE GO. Gimme somefin' ta smash!"
-
Everyone's responses mirrored Danyael's own, though no words came to reflect the gravity of the situation. As Mary stood, he too took to his feet, his hand in Mary's, as his eyes watched the energy influxes through his altered 'sight'. There was no beauty in what he saw. Only wild, untamed taint.
"Sorry our moment got cut short. Maybe next time we'll have more time."
He nodded thoughtfully, though his eyes were still transfixed into the ether. His hearing picked up the conversations of the other companions and he finally forced himself to look away. And then he heard the message. His teeth gritted beneath his lips as his grip around Mary's hand tightened. Through grinding fangs, "That fat fuck still lives..." he snarled only for his focus to snap directly to attention in all directions as Chaos gates snap open.
His connection to the world allowed him full access to it from every cardinal point. And all across the planet could he see that there was no place where the gates wouldn't open. They were, in fact, everywhere! In his free hand, he clutched the sheathed Yamato and the Everworld cloak was suddenly swathed back around him as it spread menacingly from behind. His breathing became heavy, short and rapid from the prelude of what was to come. He kept his stance, but fought the distraction. "They're everywhere. Everywhere." the first claim came in anguish, while the second one came in a strain. A deep breath centered him again and he regained composure just in time to hear Soul Reaver's recommendation alongside the Orc Boss' battle prep.
He tried not to glare toward Soul Reaver, but something possessed him to do so anyway. Silent animosity hardening his once emotionless facade. As if the companions didn't have enough enemies, Soul Reaver now presented this new gamble. He snapped his stare away, the unknown influence cast back into the recesses of his core. Watching Gulgrim prepare himself gave him thoughts of his own. The warboss was a force to be reckoned with, true. But this was not to be their greatest battle. And a tank like this one would be ready to deal the greatest damage in the spire. He thought to advise the warboss, but opted to keep to himself instead. Better to let the titan do his own thing and keep distance.
"Time's short." he said to Mary. "Staying here delays us, but not addressing this," he tips his chin to the portals, "will cost us more." he wanted to take defensive measures, but made no motion other than to keep himself between the portals and Mary. A telepathic tendril reached out to Kitharsis at the same time. What are your thoughts, brother? Do we fight? Do we run?
-
Kitharsis responds to Danyael's voice in his head.
We must fight. The question is which direction to lead our attack. The marines will be wiped out if they do not have reinforcements. But if we focus on the fodder, Abbadon and Peterson will be given free reign to move forward with whatever plot they are enacting. This Ahriman, whoever that may be, has yet to show themselves. Either way we move, we turn our back to another threat. Yet sitting still ensures certain doom.
Kitharsis shakes his head, visibly frustrated with the situation. He counts in his head how many skeletons he has littered around. Barely enough to fill out a platoon, discounting the bare minimum to man his ship. Creating more of them here is an option, but the energy might be better spent on battles to come.
After a pause he responds to Danyael, I trust Cameron's lead. I will support him however I can.
-
Sepher listens as jharm and cameron speak about the seraphim. Great. Jharm had been with him for a while, but new angels might not be so accepting of his powers. He shook his head a bit and turned back to watch the spire, still listening to the exchange with Igtenos and the new Master captain, with Cameron.
After a few moments he turned back and listened to jharm report that the armies of the seraphim were mobilizing to move with the space marines. He thought for a moment and briefly considered what was at his disposal, but decided summoning daemons was a distinctly bad idea. He braced as there was a sudden jolt of power that hit him along with everyone else, and he frowned, looking back in the direction it came from the large beam of light very ominous. He looked to jharm for a brief moment before moving to join cameron as her tried to raise the fleet and chapter masters.
Sepher suddenly jumps as a loud squeal emits form the communicator, and he spins to face it, frown still on his face as he awaits cameron's orders. His fists clench as he listens to the message, and as the message end and portals open his head whips around to glare at the portals.
With a sigh, he held his hands out. His bracers of silver crimson metal apeared to melt and form into a long, single edged spear in his hands, he shouldered it and looked to Cameron.
"What are the orders, boss?" he asked quietly
-
Cameron does not initially respond to his companion’s messages. As Abbadon’s message ended, communication with the Fleet and the ground forces was restored. Cameron is currently trying to parse the sheer amount of information coming in from his allies. It is Soul Reaver's message that finally cuts through his thoughts. He pauses for a moment, before replying telepathically.
That is all the more reason why we need to make all haste for the Spire. If Ahriman has turned on his dark masters, he may be willing to negotiate a deal for his safe passage. But he certainly won't be willing to do anything if Abbadon and Peterson are already at his throat.
He then turns to Sepher and speaks.
“Same as before. We move on the Spire.”
The ground forces and the Fleet are being attacked simultaneously. Chaos warships had arrived at the same time as the Chaos gates opened on the ground. The ground forces are now requesting a rally point. And soon, one comes. The voice of Lord Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels, uts through the din with authority.
“All Imperial forces, fall back to the city. We will use the buildings and terrain to our advantage. The enemy outnumbers us greatly, so we cannot afford to fight in the open. Fall back now!”
Cameron frowns. That will not do. That is exactly what Abbadon wants. And he will not have it. Cameron swiftly grabs the radio receiver.
“GREY KNIGHTS! BELAY THAT ORDER!”
When the order came from Dante, all of the Marines occupying the courtyard with Cameron and the companions had started grabbing weapons and packing up to move. Now, as Cameron shouts his command, those bearing the Grey Knights livery hesitate. They turn to their Chapter Master, awaiting clarification. Dante’s voice comes back over the comm channel.
“Lord Aileron. We are heavily outnumbered. We will need all of our forces if we are to-”
Back in his days as a Blood Angel, Cameron would have never dared to cut off the legendary Lord Dante. But extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures.
“With all due respect, Lord Dante, we don’t have time for this. Abbadon and his lackey are probably heading for the Spire as we speak. We cannot fight both him and Ahriman at once. We have to get there and deal with him before Abbadon does.”
Dante is silent. Cameron continues.
“Abbadon wants our plan to fall apart now, when we’re so close to the end. But we can’t allow it to. We can still win the day, but we have to stick to the plan. Strike Team and Grey Knights to the Spire while the remaining Imperial forces keep the outside secure. That is the plan!”
Dante speaks again.
“I do not know how long we can hold out without reinforcements.”
Cameron responds.
“Then you will have reinforcements.”
Cameron turns to Jharm.
“Now’s the time. Summon your forces.”
Cameron then speaks through the comm-link again.
“All remaining Grey Knight forces, form on my position! We are moving on the Spire!”
The Grey Knights respond. They ready their weapons and move to surround their leader, even as the Marines of the other Chapters rush from the courtyard and back towards the city below.
--ELSEWHERE--
Peterson stands on the roof of the building that holds Abbadon’s remote office, surrounded by radio towers and equipment, surveying the city. He can hear the sounds of combat and the screams of the dying all around him. He grins.
“Good job, Abby. This place was way too quiet before.”
Abbadon speaks from the shadows behind Peterson.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why? I think it’s fitting.”
Abbadon is about to respond, but is distracted by a very close power surge.
“Something’s coming.”
Seconds later, a cloaked figure drops almost silently on the roof next to the two agents of Chaos. Peterson grins.
“Oh, hello. Don’t bother hiding. I can see you. Do I know you?”
The figure moves closer, allowing his cloaking shield to drop and reveal himself. He speaks from behind the metal mask covering his face.
“No. You don’t. But I don’t think introductions will be needed.”
Peterson laughs.
“Get a load of THIS guy, Abby! So serious. Like he just came out of an action movie.”
Abbadon steps from the shadows. The masked figure’s eyes widen.
“You… this… this isn’t logical.”
Abbadon stares at Igtenos.
“So Aileron completed his little project after all. Leave it to him to build a copy of a bioweapon to use as a subordinate rather than simply trust one of his friends.”
Igtenos narrows his eyes at the Despoiler as he falls into a fighting stance, metal plates locking into place beneath his uniform. Two long blades eject from his arms and into his hands. His long grey hair falls over his face.
“I do not know what you’re referring to, but it’s irrelevant. I have recorded 952 kills since arriving on this world. I am here to make that number 954. There is little need for further discussion.”
Abbadon looks to Peterson, who is now grinning wildly.
“Go ahead. Oblige him.”
Peterson's chains move like a whirlwind as he shifts his weight to strike.
“With pleasure!”
The metal abomination formerly known as James Peterson lunges forward in a blur of metal and green fire.
-
“Then you will have reinforcements.”
Cameron turns to Jharm.
“Now’s the time. Summon your forces.”
The Seraphim nods crisply and moves back a few paces as he focuses inwardly once more.
Seranna, it is time to begin! Have the Voice Caste and the Serallia lend their strength to you. When I provide you with the focal point you must punch through the Chaotic energies of this place so that the portal creation can succeed.
As you command Seraphim. We await your signal!
The angellic warrior turns his attention back to the Fire Elemental.
Lord Aileron, all that I need is the assistance of Mary at this point. Her command over the Warp should allow us to create an entry point for my people to punch through to get them here.
Jharm awaits Camerons resonse, his power growing within him as he clearly prepares himself for what will happen next.
-
Cameron nods and turns to look towards Mary.
"Mary. We need you."
Mary reluctantly lets go of Danyael's hand and leaves his side. She raises an eyebrow as she approaches.
"Glad to see my services are still welcome, but you're gonna have to give me something specific."
Cameron glances at Jharm before replying.
"Jharm is trying to provide us with reinforcements. But they will need guidance to arrive through the Warp."
Mary nods.
"Of course. That's not going to be easy, but I'll give it a shot."
Mary turns and walks a short distance away. She sets her feet in a wide stance and reaches forward concentrating. There is a flash, and her hands disappear into what appears to be a fold into the fabric of reality. She grabs both sides and pulls.
A few moments later, there is a tearing noise, and her persistence is rewarded. A warp gate lies open before her. This gate has no destination. Warp energy threatens to spill out into the physical plane, and Mary can feel beasts and forces of Chaos gathering, drawn to the opening.
"This isn't going to stay stable. I hope your friends are ready."
Mary extends her arms straight ahead with her palms outward, one hand behind the other. Energy builds within her. She focuses, and a beam of pure energy explodes from her hands and through the warp gate. It disrupts the gathered energy and drives the encroaching creatures back. Mary is obviously taxing herself to keep this up, so time will be limited.
-
The Seraphim watches as Cameron and Mary converse. As she rips a tear into the Warp Jharm moves over, his body beginning to glow brightly as he places a hand on the Warp Elementals shoulder. She can feel the holy power course over her, mingling with her own light and flaring inside the Warp even brighter
Seranna....now! Focus everything on the beacon!
Everyone in the immediate area can sense a growing power where Mary and Jharm stand, but it is clear that it is still unstable. The utterly chaotic nature of the Eye seems to slowly be winning out when suddenly 3 figures, translucent and almost ghost-like in consistency appear. They each raise their right hand towards the tear for a moment as more power flows into the connection until suddenly the gate seems to collapse for a brief second before a large portal, glowing a soft white light appears. The Seraphim falls to one knee as the Council cease their efforts and seems to silently fade away. A moment later a woman and a man emerge from the gate, both bearing wings similar to the Seraphims.
Long silvery hair shimmers and flows around the womans head as twin orbs of light gaze at her new surroundings. A long staff seemingly of pure gold rests in her hand, angellic runes of silver run up and down the length, pulsing ever so faintly as the diamond secured at the top similarly pulses with a slowly fading light. Her skin is the same as Jharms, almost like pure undriven snow. Her slim but muscular figure is protected by a suit of gleaming white plate armor, every inch of the armor seemingly crafted to her exact shape. The man next to her looks similar to the Seraphim except for two noticeable differences. His entire head is bald...and where his glowing eyes should be is a simple band of silken white cloth. His apparent lack of sight does not seem to impede the man though as his "gaze" slowly moves over each of the companions as if looking at them normally. He pauses as he looks upon Sepher and Soul Reaver but is distracted by a slight gasp from the woman next to him as she moves to Jharm
"Seraphim!"
Raising an armored hand, the Seraphim dismisses the concern in the womans voice.
"Worry not Seranna, I am fine. Simply taxed from what we just managed to do."
The blind Seraph moves over to the Seraphim and thumps his right fist over his chest.
"Seraphim, the Vanguard Caste is fully assembled and simply awaits for the command to enter the portal."
Returning the salute the Seraphim slaps his hand down on the other mans shoulder
"That is excellent to hear Serallia. Their might is in desperate need here. Have them start coming through at once and form ranks with the Space Marines."
He gestures at one of the power armor clad figures as they head off towards the city.
"It is imperative that they hold back the forces of Darkness from reaching here. You and Nethanya shall command them out here while I take a contingent with us into the Spire."
Giving another salute the man turns and moves back through the portal as Jharm steps up to Nethanya.
"Nethanya, have some of the Voice Caste remain here to strengthen the gate and ensure that it remains open. The rest should be interspersed through the ranks of both groups."
"Yes Seraphim, as you command."
The woman salutes and moves through the portal as well. A moment later armored figures begin to pour through it. All are clad in suits of plain (in comparison to Jharms at least) white and gold armor. Most seem to be armed with shining longswords and large shields, others carrying longbows seemingly made of some kind of white wood. Leading the units are Seraphs in finer looking armor, white feathered wings on their backs. Taking to the air they hover a short distance above the units and begin to shout commands in a language none of the Companions can understand, the soldiers seeming to follow what is said with exacting precision. Squares form, the shield bearers in the front and the bow wielders protected in the back, each group marching in unison towards the direction of the city. As the soldiers continue to pour out of the gate, some remain behind. Armed with golden staves they must be the Voice Caste the Seraphim spoke about. Some move to the gate and begin to focus their power into it, ensuring that it remains stable and open, while others move to join the advancing units.
A group of them however move off to a larger open area. Standing in a very large circle they begin to chant softly in their native tongue. After a minute a faint ethereal image can be seen and then begins to solidify quickly. After another minute a towering figure, standing 6-7 stories tall and looking almost like a towering Seraph crafted of pure white marble, the eyes made of immense glimmering diamonds. Without any command seeming to be given the "creature" steps over the circle of Seraphs and begins to move towards the city as well, the sound of grinding stone as its limbs move, each footfall shaking the ground. From within the gate both Nethanya and the blind Seraph re-emerge, the woman moving to assist those bringing in the large golems as the man turns to Jharm once more.
"Seraphim, your orders have been followed. Other then those remaining behind to protect against any incursions by the Darkness, all armies are moving through the gate as we speak. The Voice Caste is bringing many of the Colossi through as well."
"Excellent, well done Drayven. As I explained to Nethanya, you two shall be in charge of the defense forces while I take a detachment inside. We shall keep in contact to ensure both groups remain reinforced. We can not fail here, otherwise I fear the Darkness could gain an insurmountable victory in this universe."
Thumping his fist over his chest Drayven bows to the Seraphim.
"We shall not fail m'lord. The Light shall win out this day!"
He turns to face the advancing Seraph forces and raises his sword in the air, his voice somehow seeming to magnify in volume.
"FOR THE LIGHT!"
A loud cheer rises from the Seraph ranks as the Serallia takes to the air and flies over their heads towards the ongoing battle. Jharm turns back to Cameron finally and nods towards Mary
"I thank you for your assistance m'lady, I do not think this could have been done without you. Lord Aileron, the Seraph forces will work to bolster the Space Marines. Hopefully between the two armies they can hold back the tides of Darkness so that we can reach our goal."
-
So it is onward and upward to the Spire. Kitharsis cannot help but look back at the city behind them. Sure, reinforcements will hold off the advancing Chaos legions, but Peterson and Abbadon are a different story. Kitharsis cannot help but be concerned.
Mary and Jharm tear open a glowing portal. Those of Jharm's kind stream through the gate. The Seraph appear to be a force to be reckoned with. Kitharsis gives respectful nods to any that meet his gaze. He gives an appreciative grin to the hulking marble Seraph creatures as their thundering footsteps shake the ground.
"FOR THE LIGHT!" Drayven bellows.
The resounding cheer returned by the Seraph forces is inspiring. Perhaps the tides of war have shifted in their favor once again.
"May the sacrifices of your people be few, Jharm."
-
Cameron nods and turns to look towards Mary.
"Mary. We need you."
Mary reluctantly lets go of Danyael's hand and leaves his side. She raises an eyebrow as she approaches.
Upon hearing the command, Danyael loosed his grip at the very instant Mary did. He cared for her, loved her, but would not smother her. But he hated to watch her go, even if his now emotionless facade masked it easily enough. He could deduce that whatever she was needed for was for either one of two things: either she was going to be needed to impart guidance as the future version of Mary or she was going to be called on for her warp-affinity abilities. And when she performed the latter, the nephilim knew all too well that the possibility of draining her was well within the realm. And as Mary and Jharm open a portal to what might be the Seraphim's realm, he held a glint of curiosity. And in that curiosity, an idea of his own.
As the titan Seraphim constructs lumbered into the front, he felt the land quake around him with such vivacity that he could attain the sensations of being very much connected to the land itself - in spite of the land being, for all intents and purposes, dead. He could feel the power of the gargantuans and the sudden influx of power as they made their way into the world from the warp. In that moment, he catches glimpse of Kitharsis' nod and returned it in kind.
"Excellent, well done Drayven. As I explained to Nethanya, you two shall be in charge of the defense forces while I take a detachment inside. We shall keep in contact to ensure both groups remain reinforced. We can not fail here, otherwise I fear the Darkness could gain an insurmountable victory in this universe."
And if it does, then it will face the Imperium Sanctus, Danyael snarled within his own thoughts, though he knew all too well that with such power as what Jharm had brought forth into this realm that intervention by the Imperium was not a necessity. If anything, intervention should be limited as much as possible to the high sovereign himself.
Thumping his fist over his chest Drayven bows to the Seraphim.
"We shall not fail m'lord. The Light shall win out this day!"
He turns to face the advancing Seraph forces and raises his sword in the air, his voice somehow seeming to magnify in volume.
"FOR THE LIGHT!"
A loud cheer rises from the Seraph ranks as the Serallia takes to the air and flies over their heads towards the ongoing battle. Jharm turns back to Cameron finally and nods towards Mary
"I thank you for your assistance m'lady, I do not think this could have been done without you. Lord Aileron, the Seraph forces will work to bolster the Space Marines. Hopefully between the two armies they can hold back the tides of Darkness so that we can reach our goal."
A hand touched Mary, and for a moment it feels like Danyael's. But Danyael is several arm lengths away, revealing in fact an echo of the nephilim lord. Without a word, the echo took a deep breath and poured its energy into her, returning some of the replenishing a generous portion of the energy Mary provided Danyael. That's twice Mary had been forced to drain herself in under a day. Despicable. But he knew the risks. He knew that she knew the risks. It didn't mean he had to like it. And it most certainly didn't mean he had to accept that she had to lay down and take it. And so if people expected her to just give all of herself, then he would give of himself for her. After all, it was because of her that he now had plenty of power to spare.
-
"May the sacrifices of your people be few, Jharm."
The Seraphim turns to the Tirthandaran as he hears the comment.
"I appreciate that, but we both know what it is they march against. That said...this is what we Seraphs were created for. Though they may fall they know that they go to rejoin with the Light and be born anew."
As the two converse, formations of the Seraphs begin to remain behind, forming up in defensive positions around the entrance of the spire, some of the Towering Colossi interspersed amongst them, their large gem eyes gleaming in the hellish light of the Eye as they silent face out in the direction any enemies would come. Nethanya lands near Jharm but waits until the Seraphim turns to her before she salutes him.
"Seraphim, per your commands some of our forces have formed up here to ensure the armies of Darkness do not follow behind you and your friends."
Returning the salute Jharm gazes over the area at the forces before him.
"Excellent, well done Seranna. I shall take the 1st and 7th Legions in with me as well as a Colossi detachment. There are Chaos forces we have not encountered yet and Lord Aileron suspects, rightfully so I might add, that we will find them within."
The female Seraph nods her head in agreement.
"Excellent choice. I shall have them prepare to follow you at once."
She then salutes and flies off to carry out the directions as Jharm turns his gaze back towards the entryway of the Spire.
-
CRCK. CRCK.
The sound of knuckles popping loudly, like the snapping of bones, echoes across area as Gulgrim presses his massive fists together, green lightning dancing around his form as he looks intently at the entrance to the Spire of Chaos. The air around him seems to grow heavy with malice, hairline fractures breaking in the earth around him as the weight of his growing power begins to manifest. If he didn't find a fight soon, his building energy suggested the Warboss may lash out uncontrollably or explode, potentially both.
"Rrrrg. I'z sick o' dis muckin' about! Let'z get movin'! Else I might 'ave ta go meself. Won't leave nuffin' for ya either if I do."
Punching his fist into the ground, a burst of green lightning erupted from the impact point, and in a flash of light, several new figures had emerged.
Decked in spiked armor that was permanently stained red with blood, and each bearing numerous cybork augmentations, Gulgrim's personal Honor guard stood behind the Warboss. Each was a massive nob, not quite as dangerously large as the Kabinet, but well equipped and prepped for slaughter. Each had a personal loadout kitted for their preference, and each looked itching for a fight just like their Boss.
"Alright ladz. Get yer Gubbinz in order. We'z da tip o' da spear. 'Ope yer ready fer a gud fight. Everyone else's got dere chance, now'z yer turn."
-
Soul Reaver nods ever so slightly in reply to Cameron's message.
Whatever the case may be, we cannot trust Ahriman. The forces of Chaos always war amongst themselves. Even if he is willing to fight Abaddon and Peterson alongside us, it does not mean he will not subsequently stab us in the back.
He then looks up at the spire.
Ahriman is a powerful sorcerer, and your own mental powers are substantial. Can you not contact him telepathically?
While posing the question, he glances around at the holy warriors rallying their forces nearby. All manoeuvres are performed with pinpoint precision, but it galls Soul Reaver to know that many of these courageous warriors will likely fall in the battle to come.
With Mary's assistance he could possibly call upon the Daemons of Inferno to bolster the lines here, but he doubted they would fight well in cohesion with Jharm's forces and after recent events, their presence here would be doubly unwelcome. Besides, his attentions would be better spent on focussing on the battles at hand, rather than dividing his attention so as to retain control over the Daemonic hosts.
Not allowing his thoughts to drift further, he turns back to Cameron, awaiting a reply.
-
As control over the gate is pulled away from her, Mary stumbles backwards. Her shoulders slump as she lowers her hands. The constant outpouring of energy today has taken it’s toll on her. She says nothing as Jharm’s reinforcements begin to arrive. She instead keeps a close watch on the gate itself, monitoring it for any lingering Chaos interference.
She jumps slightly as something reaches out and touches her. She quickly recognizes this as Danyael, though she is surprised when she looks behind her and still sees him in his original position. The gift of energy courses through her, renewing her strength. The smile she flashes in Danyael’s direction is a grateful one.
As she turns back around, her gaze is once again drawn by the Spire. She feels her muscles tense, charged with the new energy provided by Danyael. She checks the interlocking plates of her armor for damage and tests her mobility. The straps and joints have seen better days, but they will hold. The plates themselves are made of a purplish black obsidian that was pulled from the warp itself, and shows little in the way of damage. Satisfied with her inspection, she pulls her broadsword from its scabbard. It is made out of the same incredibly hard material as her armor, so she only inspects it briefly before hefting the blade over her shoulder and turning to Cameron.
“So now what?”
Although he doesn’t voice it, Sepher is also thinking the same thing. He notices that he had brought his spear into a ready position when Jharm’s forces arrived and returns it to his shoulder. He had watched them closely for any reaction to him or the other companions when they first arrived, but they seemed to pay him no heed. Relieved that they appear to not be a threat, Sepher has returned his thoughts to the Spire and the battle that awaits.
Cameron looks to Mary and responds.
“Now we go. But not all of us.”
Cameron scans the courtyard and locates Karyl, Garr, and Kari. He waves them over. Mary joins them.
“I need the three of you to remain here and hold this courtyard. This is the only ground entrance to the Spire that I am aware of. It’s vital that we hold this position.”
Mary frowns.
“The three of you? There’s four of us.”
Cameron does not hesitate with his reply.
“I know. You’re coming with me. Karyl, Garr, and Kari can handle this on their own.”
Karyl, still frustrated about Mary and Danyael, objects.
“Hey man, that doesn’t sound like a really cool idea. She’s the strongest of us, other than you. What if that chain guy and Chaos douche show up?”
Mary nods.
“For once, I agree with Karyl. This sounds risky.”
Cameron does not waver.
“Yes, she is the strongest of you, which is exactly why we need her with us. I doubt that Peterson and Abbadon will come this way, since I’m sure Abbadon has his own way into the Spire. But if they do for any reason, do not engage. Let them come to the Spire and we’ll deal with them there.”
Garr looks confused.
“So to clarify, you want us to hold this point and not let anyone flank you, but if the greatest threat appears, we are to simply let them pass?”
Cameron nods grimly.
“Yes. You’ve already fallen to Peterson once. And this time you won’t have Mary, or…”
Cameron closes his eyes for a moment before starting again.
“You won’t have Mary with you this time. And Peterson will have Abbadon with him. The only thing you could possibly hope to do by yourselves is slow him down. And I’m not willing to risk you all just to buy us time.”
Karyl grins.
“Not sure if I should be offended there, bro. But thanks for looking out for us, I guess.”
Cameron can’t help but smirk.
“I have full confidence in your abilities to hold this position from anything other than them. You’ll have the Marines and Jharm’s forces watching your back, but you three are the only ones I can put my complete faith in. Can you handle it?”
The three elementals nod. Cameron nods to each of them in return.
“Stay alive. Keep yourselves safe. We have work to do once this is over.”
Mary has no outward reaction to Cameron’s statement, but she bristles inwardly.
Yeah. Work that you won’t be around for.
Cameron suddenly shifts his gaze to Mary, and she briefly wonders if he has read her thoughts again. But if he did, he makes no mention of it.
“We should get moving. Time is of the essence, and some of our guys are getting restless.”
Cameron gestures in the direction of Gulgrim and his new company. Mary nods.
“Ready when you are.”
Cameron turns away, hearing Soul Reaver’s message as he begins to walk towards the steps leading out of the courtyard. He hadn’t considered trying to reach Ahriman from out here. He allows his mind to stretch out towards the Spire but soon finds a wall. He replies directly to Soul Reaver’s mind.
It would appear that he’s cut the Spire off from any psychic influence. Not surprising. We’ll have to get inside first.
As Cameron reaches the steps, he drops a blinking transmitter to the ground. Seconds later, a group of 20 Grey Knight Terminators, wearing the same armor as Cameron himself, appear in a flash of light. He converses with their Sergeant briefly before turning to everyone else.
“Alright. Marines. Strike Team. Our objective is simple. We breach the Spire at it’s base, secure the ground level and eliminate any Chaos forces within. Then we have a contingent hold the base while we head up and clear the tower level by level. I’m assuming that we won’t find Ahriman until we reach the top, but we can’t afford to be surprised. Marines! Sound off!”
The marines shout in unison.
“Death to Chaos! For the Emperor!”
Cameron nods as the faceplate of his helmet closes.
“Damn right. Let’s move out!”
Cameron and the Marines begin marching up the steps, heading for the Spire.
-
The Seraphim watches as Cameron and the Grey Knight begin to advance up the stairs. Turning he moves towards the awaiting Seraphs. As he approaches one of the winged soldiers snaps to attention and salutes.
"Seraphim! We await your commands!"
Returning the salute the Seraphim nods as well. He moves in front of the armored warriors, his voice ringing out over the gathered forces in front of him.
"Seraphs! Warriors of the Light! We march now into the bastion of Chaos itself! Be prepared for anything and hold nothing back! Give no quarter....for none shall be given to you! We have no idea what we may face within, but never forget...the Light is with us!"
The angellic commander turns to face towards the stairs once more, the malevolent light of the Eye glimmering off the shining armor of the gathered Seraphs. Resting his sledge on his right shoulder, Jharm bellows out.
"Forward! For the Light!"
The Seraph detachment surges forward, each armored step and movement in complete unison. Perhaps it is the discipline displayed by the Seraphs, the way they march into the unknown without even a hint of concern or hesitation, but all present can almost feel a surge of hope swell within them as the Seraphim and his force advance up the stairs behind Cameron and the Grey Knights.
-
Kitharsis nods in return to Jharm's reply.
As Jharm turns to address Nethanya, Kitharsis cannot help but set his eyes on the tip of the Spire. The tiny skeleton mage clambers over his back and perches on his shoulder, glaring at the spire alongside its master. The bone wings on his back shudder, the will of the golem rousing as it anticipates the upcoming battle. He slides his horseman's pick into its sling on his hip before he begins adjusting the many pockets and pouches attached to his belt. There are thankfully a few bulging bags of sand left, along with a thick padded bag of assorted runes for emergencies.
Finding things in order, he turns to Cameron awaiting the order to move forward.
Cameron rallies his squad of Grey Knights and begin their march onward to the Spire. Jharm and his Seraphs follow suit and march forward as well.
With a silent look to the rest of the companions, Kitharsis sets his jaw and begins his own march up the steps of the Spire.
-
Cameron gives his orders to the marines and asks Karyl, Garr and Kari to remain behind and guard the spire alongside some of Jharm's forces before responding to Soul Reaver. Soul Reaver nods in response.
Unfortunate, but not surprising.
Observing Jharm and his forces marching forward, Soul Reaver felt a little more at ease - somehow, come what may, he knew Jharm would always be there to do what is right.
Soul Reaver briefly meets Kitharsis' gaze before the enormous Tirthandara ascends the steps, a small skeletal minion riding on his back.
Turning around, Soul Reaver looks over at the three elementals who have been asked to guard the spire. Regardless of what Cameron may have said, they were putting themselves at great risk by staying here. He puts his right fist over his chest in salute - the gesture conveys much, including respect, gratitude, and - should it come to that - a farewell.
Turning on his heel, Soul Reaver strides up the steps toward the spire, adjusting the straps of his armour in preparation for whatever may be to come.
-
Sepher relaxes visibly when jharm's forces to not react to him or the other companions. Taking a deep breath, he shoulders his spear.
He watches the discussion between cameron and the elementals, but turns to face the spire once more, watching it. It made him feel... uneasy to be near that place... more so than he had been feeling being in the eye in general.
Deciding he needed to save his energy, he did not use any of his powers yet, but followed in steady pace as they began to make their way to the spire.
-
Danyael listens intently and without a sound to the exchange between Mary and Cameron, then hears the tentative protest of Karyl. So three of the four would be staying behind? Not an idea he agreed with, but it wasn't up to him and there certainly wasn't any other option. Unless... he waited for the others to finish and then move on. But as they left, Danyael reached out a tether to the mind of Cameron. I've yet to test my abilities gained in the warp. But as it can be seen, I've a hard time at dying, even upon trying my best. I could stay behind to assist in holding the line.
He looked to the Spire in the distance, then looked to the other companions. Then saved looking to Mary for last. Would she approve of this? Probably not. Then again, it's possible Cameron would recommend against it anyway. But if he gave him the green light, then the nephilim lord would be more than willing to stand by the elementals that trusted him the least. He could leave behind an echo, perhaps even a retinue of echoes. He still didn't know how far this ability could reach, but considering just how much he'd pushed it, he was eager to see just how much further he could go. But either way he was prepared to walk in either direction, oddly leaving the decision up to someone else for now. Even if that someone else was someone who trusted him even less than the other three elementals did.
-
As soon as the combined forces of the companions began to move toward the spire, Gulgrim and his Retinue were up and gunning for the steps. Moving at full sprint, they aimed to get to the spire ahead of everyone else, even if it meant rushing headlong into the enemy without looking for traps or other pitfalls. Gulgrim himself was at the head of the pack, his massive feet digging chunks out of the ground with each bounding stride he took, his kutlass held high, a bellowing "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!" on his lips. Green lightning flowed in his wake like a train, dancing along the ground where his feet collided and lending him speed as he made his way toward battle.
The Orks were in their element. It was time to fight and win.
-
[End of chapter.]