Ah, this opponent was worthwhile. Gulgrim's cybork arm grinds to a halt under the efforts of Kitharsis' mystic energy, and as the tendrils try to creep their way up the metal surface of his arm, the Tirthandaran turns to attempt to run the Warboss through. But as with all things combat, Gulgrim is never finished. The metal of the Cybork arm sparks and begins to vibrate as the tendrils of dark energy slink across its surface, and just before Kitharsis' thrust would pass into the range of threatening the Ork, it detonates, an explosion of WAAAGH!!! energy creating a shockwave to push the dueling entities apart, the splintered pieces of Gulgrim's recently replaced cybork arm flying in all directions, lacerating unsuspecting orks and anyone else standing too close to the battle between these two titans.

In the aftermath, Gulgrim is left standing a short distance back from his previous position, and once again in place of his Cybork arm burns a roiling mass of WAAAGH!!!fire vaguely shaped like a limb. The flames begin to burn brighter as the pitch of the battle grows more fierce, and Gulgrim holds the flaming appendage in front of his face, clenching blazing digits into a fist as his grin widens yet further.

"We'z need more o' dis. Whenever one o' yous gits turns all spikey I get a real gud fight. Can't wait for da next one ov ya ta decide you'z can't wait ta get krumped." The Warboss exclaims his excitement at the prospect of fighting yet more of his allies turned against him, as if this fight is already won and he is simply waiting for the next. Or perhaps anticipation is simply spilling out ahead of him. The thrill of the possibility causes the flames to flare up even more, concentrating a white-hot mass into his burning fist as he thrusts it forward, a condensed blast of Orkish power hot enough to burn holes through the ship he was standing on rapidly chewing through the distance between Gulgrim and Kitharsis, deck plates melting and popping in its path as it seeks its prey.

Soul Reaver finds himself surrounded by a cloned mass of his previously lone opponent.  The hope that they might be illusions is dashed as they unleash a very real barrage of energy blasts from every direction.

Blooddrinker is a blur in the air, moving of its own accord as it attempts to intercept the blasts.  Each projectile it impacts fizzes out harmlessly into a spray of fast-dying sparks.  But there are many projectiles, and Soul Reaver is unable to completely parry them all, taking multiple hits that scorch and bloody his flesh.  He backs away from the main Tirthandaran approaching him.

But his retreat is a calculated one - his backing up toward a wide metal support beam, covering his rear.  And as he retreats, he murmurs a spell.

Within his chest he feels a bubbling swell of mana, crackling and surging against his ribcage.  It requires immense force of will to keep it contained, concentrated, focused.  His defense serves only to buy him the time needed to build it to its ultimate crescendo.

Soul Reaver claps a fist onto his chest and unleashes the power as a blue-white circular shockwave of kinetic and burning force.  The beam behind him is almost split in two and the ground buckles and screeches the Shockwave's passing.

The Tirthandaran all around around him are in the direct line of fire, and none moreso than the one now almost within melee range.

Gulgrim had his opponent, and they were so good as to come directly at him, forgoing silly things like cover or fear in the face of a beast like Gulgrim. Good. The Warboss's grin only grew at sight of a good fight approaching, and he pulled the Kaptin's Kutlass into his right hand as he charged to meet the dark Kitharsis, gun still blazing hot as green flames and arcs of emerald electricity sparked to life all around the Ork. The violent energy formed its own whipping coils of power to lash at Kitharsis's assault, sparks flying and explosions popping where the two opposed powers met while their wielders charged into melee with each other. Gulgrim didn't let up on the trigger at all during the approach, the staccato of ballistics playing counterpoint to the warring mystical powers.

But while Gulgrim was kunninly brutal, he was also brutally kunnin. As he crossed those final steps to close the distance between himself and his opponent, he raised his Kutlass high, preparing for a mighty downward swing and....Vanished. A crack of green lightning carried the Warboss from the Tirthandaran's view as he suddenly reappeared behind his opponent with a rush of displaced air, his heavy-handed chop having turned into a pointed thrust, the Kaptin's Kutlass aimed to literally stab the dark version of his ally in the back.

"Mork sez 'ello, ya spikey git!"

The Shaman reaches Kitharsis before Dark Kitharsis can execute his attack.  A pyramid of green energy springs to life around the helpless Kitharsis and the Shaman just as Soul Reaver's molten metal trap rises around Dark Kitharsis.

Still recovering from his containment, Dark Kitharsis is caught in the metal shell quite easily.  The metal creaks as he flexes against it. 

"Fool."  He mutters.  Both he and Soul Reaver know this won't hold him for long.  He goes to speak further, but is quickly cut short by a spectral green arm aimed directly at him.  Dark Kitharsis grits his teeth and leans into the attack as the metal trembles around him.

The swing connects soundly, ripping the metal panel from the floor and sending Dark Kitharsis careening though the air.

"Quit messing around!"  The taller Tirthandara shouts, as Dark Kitharsis sails overhead.

The stout one just shakes his head, until a giant skeletal hand manifests out of the air to catch the battered Dark Kitharsis and cushion his landing.  It clutches the metal case around him and squeezes, bending and weakening the metal enough that Dark Kitharsis easily tears the rest of it away from himself.  The hand disintegrates into dust behind him as he slides to the floor.

"Maybe we should keep the other one, if that's how you handle yourself."  The stout one says with a smirk.

"No."  The tall one says, his serious tone quickly wiping the smirk off the others face.  "Now that he is separate he can finally be destroyed.  It's time to get serious."

A torrent of gunfire rains down on them, punching holes into the ship around them, but harmlessly bouncing off of their thick skin.

The two new Tirthandara flare up multiple tattoos on their bodies.  Those sensitive to it can feel another massive buildup of energy from both of them.

"If you step aside, we will be done with that new one in a moment."  The tall one explains, yet the tone of his voice is menacing.

"I for one won't allow it!"  The Shaman shouts from within the pyramid.  He winces, and the barrier walls waver for a moment.  It is clear he is straining past his abilities.

"Very well."  The tall one barks.  "Prove your worth, Kitharsis, or we may just leave you here for the trouble you've caused." 

Multiple runes scrawling down the tall one's arms flare into life.  He springs directly toward Jharm and his glowing shield, meaning to test the strength of the Seraphim.  His arm lights up like a Christmas tree as even more runes flare to life.  The well of power behind his swing his immense.  He aims directly at the center of Jharm's shield.

The Stout one and his many clones turn their eyes toward Soul Reaver.  They quickly maneuver to flank him, arms outstretched.  Beads of energy form in their palms, before each of them fires off multiple blasts of energy.  They seemingly come from all sides as the clones keep circling.  The main one moves closer, looking to capitalize on the barrage to close the distance.

Chafing at the comment about leaving him behind, Dark Kitharsis clenches his fists and scowls at Gulgrim.  Multiple tendrils of dark energy wrap around his arms, similar to how his old tattoos would function.  He charges toward Gulgrim, swinging his arms and snapping the tendrils like whips at the big green Ork.

It will be up by tomorrow afternoon

Thank you for posting - I've removed the god-mod exit post I put up earlier.