Forum:The Fires of Heaven

Guidelines

 * Avoid short, pointless or disruptive posts. Repeated incidents of such will earn the boot, regardless of status.


 * Do not Mary Sue, if your character shouldn't be able to do something, they probably can't. If your character shouldn't know something, they don't.


 * Read the damn thread before posting. I cannot stress this enough.


 * Use proper spelling and grammar. Good post content can be ruined if it's illegible/an eyesore.


 * Post your faction and their motivations in the Factions section BEFORE posting in the Roleplaying section (Act 1 etc.).


 * Do not double post.


 * Don't dive into battle at the drop of a hat. Just like in real life, a bit of preparation is needed. Such reckless action can be punished, just as such reckless action would have dire reprecussions in a genuine battle.
 * Punishment severity will depend on post quality, likely enemy preparedness and plausibility of the attack.


 * This list can and will be expanded/added to as and when I see fit.

//--Run4urLife!

Setting
Soren Primus was a peaceful world. The governor was firm but fair, and civil liberties were extended to all of pure blood. Even the mutant populace had a few rudimentary rights (although they typically lost them in favour of a pureblood keeping theirs). The government paid their Imperial tithes and sent the small PDF to aid their embattled neighbours whenever necessary. The crime rate was so low in the major cities that the Arbites were on a first-name basis with many of the common people. Education was valued, and free education was available right up to honours-level college degrees. There was a Schola Progenium situated on the northern ice cap (presumably to discourage escape towards the less harsh schools of the cities). Soren Primus has four landmasses and two ice caps at each magnetic and geographic pole.

The only thing that really stands out about the planet is the planet itself. Its surface is an almost perfect 50/50 split between land and water, with most of the land just high enough above sea level to prevent flooding during storms. The coastlines are remarkably regular and measured, and show little to no signs of coastal erosion or continental drift. It's axis of rotation it perfectly vertical to the galactic plane, and it's orbit around Soren (the creatively named system star) is perfectly circular. Bizzarely, it has no unique native lifeforms. These traits are shared by every world in the Soren System. All of this points towards terraforming by an extremely advanced civilization. Due to the verdancy and hospitable environment of all the planets, it can be assumed that it was performed by the Eldar at the height of their power.

Recent history on Soren Primus

 * Unexplained plague swept three major cities, including the planetary capital, and held for four years. The affected cities have been clear of the plague for almost a year now.
 * Crop yields for the past five years were the largest in recorded history, garnering record profits from exports.
 * The Steel Tigers Space Marine Chapter visited less than six months ago with the intention of inspecting Soren Primus as a potential garrison/vassal world.

The Campaign
But all was not well on Soren Primus. In the wake of the plague, and the balancing by the crop yields, which allowed the supply of superior medicines, a great beast has reared its head. War has come to Soren Primus. The reasons are unknown to all but the attackers, and the strikes in the rugged mountains of Soren Primus' Secondary Landmass, some of the most difficult terrain on the planet, are seemingly random and completely unplanned. And yet, every attack force sent after these mysterious attackers has been utterly destroyed, their bodies piled on the foothills and burned in fires that billowed in no earthly wind, and burned even through the rain. Many scholars would assume Daemons. The truly wise know that Daemons rarely leave so few clues, and Daemons need mass slaughter or the reviving energy of Warp Storms to sustain them.

It was not until four months after the first strike, which completely obliterated a large mountain resort town in mere minutes, that the Warp Storm began to form, creeping around the borders of the entire Soren System. Now the only safe route passes directly by Soren Primus, and it can only be assumed that this too will close soon. And when that happens, the Fires of Heaven will scorch the Earth.

Factions
Here is where you enter your faction and their motivations.

Black Legion 3rd Grand Company
Led by their Lord and Master, Alistair, the Third Grand Company have returned to Imperial Space once more. To those privy to knowledge of the Traitor Astartes (a tiny minority in the Imperium), the 3rd is synonymous with slaughter on an obscene scale. They are callous, merciless veterans, many of whom have ruled a world in Abbadon's name at some point or another. None of them would think twice about slaughtering innocent civilians or gunning down a foe who had already surrendered. They are the Chosen of Chaos and the bane of all that lives.

It was the Third who made the first planetfall, Alistair concealing his fleet's presence in the Warp until he called in the Warp Storms threatening to overwhelm the Soren System. After planetfall, Alistair demonstrated his immense psychic power by blinding every target's sensors before each attack on the PDF detatchments or towns in his path. While the Imperium assumes that this attack is a random act on some Daemonic Quest or the price to be paid for one of Alistair's myriad Daemonic Pacts, it is not. The true reason, if it were known to them, would have the High Lords of Terra moving the entire Sector Fleet against the Soren System, once they had received a change of trousers. But they do not. Alistair is here to take as his own an ancient Eldar weapon from the time before the Fall. The Angel, as it is known, has unknown capabilities. All that is known of it, even to Alistair, is that it is incredibly powerful, and hidden somewhere on Soren Primus.

Three companys of the Steel Fists and the Reaver titan Sanctus Proeliator
The Soren system had allways interested the techpriests of Revis and its space marine chapter.With the arival of the warp storm and a plauge on the planet as well as speculation about deamons led the steel fists to belive that the plauge god nurgle was involved.Without reciving orders from the council of terra and instead acting on the orders of the mechanicum and there own council the steel fists made there way to the system with two goals.Firstly they would investigate the planet for any signs of coruption by chaos and secondly they would investigate the system itself to see if any technology could be gained from it.To asist them in there goals a number of techpriests and the Reaver Titan Sanctus Proeliator have joined the steel fists 9th company.

The 9th company has made good time in the warp and within a day they hope to make planetfall asisted by the Exorcist Class Grand Cruiser;Emperors Fist.After making planetfall they will scour the planet for any trace of chaos.

Golden Legion: Two Companies, two Imperial Guard Regiment auxiliaries
As usual, the Golden Legion has resorted to it's usual activities; cleansing planets and killing Chaos space marines. Having just returned from their tour of duty at Cadia fighting Abbadon the Despoiler with notable distinction, Gold Two and Gold Forty-One have been issued another direct order by the Senate at Terra, since they double as Imperial poster-boys. A plague has scoured the once beautiful world of Soren Primus. It will be cleansed of rebels and mutants, and for certain the Chaos forces that have arrived from the Warp Storm appearing will be destroyed as well. The Lords of Terra have commanded it be done, and the Golden Legion is their instrument in this matter. Soren Primus will burn in the Emperor's light, and it's diseased mutants will be another foot-note on one of the Golden Legion's righteous genocidal Crusades. Taking the Nazarene 21st Battalion and the Mars 67th Mechanized Regiment, the Golden Legion also has orders to put any Imperial forces or present Astartes in submission and to keep them out of Council affairs on the planet. There is something the Council appears to be holding back about this; as if they aren't telling the Golden Legion something. However, it is clear that they want no outside Imperial influence other than their personal Chapter lap-dogs on the scene, and that they want Imperial forces to stay out of snooping around while the Golden Legion is topside.

Gold Forty-One and Gold Two will be arriving in three hours alongside their Imperial Guard reinforcements, using the Strike Cruisers Golden Ember and Golden Lotus. The Imperial Navy will also be in attendance in the form of three Lunar Class Cruisers; Home Slice, Terran Glory, and God Emperor. They will assist in any space conflicts. The Imperial Navy is also sending Task Force Saturn's flagship, the Retribution Class Battleship, Glory of Luna. Together, these hope to end this little mission quickly and quietly. Soren Primus will be distant memory soon enough. The Council's little mission is nothing but a routine daemon hunt, and soon the Golden Legion hopes to be home soon enough.

Savark Von Andranas' Black legion Warband
Savark and his extremely small warband, after a thousand years in the warp has been spat back into real space by the chaos gods and landed on Soren Primus, baffled at so suddenly exiting the warp and appearing in the middle of a mountain range are here to simply spread havoc until they have enough men and power to prey on the galaxy once more and have their ultimate revenge on all, especially Robert Von Andranas. After readapting to real space they scouted the mountains and found other members of the black legion, they quickly joined in the hoard of their brethren rampaging villages and towns in the glorious name of chaos. Now they just need to to why they are in this war among thousands against the imperial lap dogs. However the new members are not warming well to Alistair

Act 1
Run4urLife!

Alistair crouched over the body of another soldier, putting his hand to the woman's throat. She cringed and recoiled as he lifted her up and ripped her flak jacket open. She struggled and flailed in his grip, but his battle cannon-like arms kept her well out of range with her pathetic, fatigued attacks. Pathetic. It utterly disgusted him that these scum would inherit the same titles as the men and women who fought so hard on Terra. It galled him to think that these spitlicking dogs would dare call themselves Guardsmen and insult Alistair's oldest foes. She looked into the baleful grey eyes of his helmet. He could taste her fear. Breathing in the stinking aroma of her terror, he adjusted his stance. Her expression changed from fear to guttural revulsion.

"Your life ends here, dog. Take solace in strengthening Chaos with your soul eternal. Rejoice in the coming oblivion," Alistair said, his voice crackling with raw power as he channelled massive amounts of psychic energy into himself and into the girl. She screamed in glorious agony as he drained her life, piece by piece. She aged before his very eyes as she kicked and screamed with all her strength. After a few seconds, nothing but bones and dust were left, tumbling to the ground from Alistair's grasp. Alistair sneered inside his helmet, and laughed, a sound like a slow moving avalanche, laced with Daemonic energy.

"The Imperial Dogs will come. And we can test our new toy with them. We shall see what it is the Eldar left behind for us when they birthed Slaanesh," Alistair called to the Chaos Space Marines who were moving around nearby, mutilating bodies for trophies and sacrifice organs. Survivors were either killed where they lay with a swift stamp to the head or chest. The unlucky ones were rounded up for sacrifice later.

KuHB1aM

Kaldrin stood aboard the Strike Cruiser Golden Ember as it moved about the warp, guided by the Astronimican's glorious light. Clad in golden power armor and bearing the double-headed aquila on his chest, Kaldrin felt more empowered now than ever. He was wiser, stronger, more experienced. Cadia had changed him in some shape or form. A heavy steel colored hand patted Kaldrin on the shoulder as he turned around to face Ferox Baldur, his de facto mentor. "Ready for some action, brother?" Ferox asked, a cool swagger in his aged voice. His hair was a buzzed blackened color, possibly an early sign of Gold Rush. "Of course, Captain." Kaldrin said, breathing deeply a little bit. "They say this is just some daemon hunt, but between you and me, the briefing from Ironhide implies the Council of Terra is sending us on something relic hunting specifically for them. They even want us to put any Astartes in the area under our jurisdiction so they don't get in the way." Ferox said, his hand resting on the butt of his power sword's hilt. Kaldrin raised an eyebrow. The Terrans had never done that before. Yes, maybe they had handed over support from other Chapters, but they had never given the Golden Legion complete control. Just as Kaldrin was about to continue his conversation with Ferox, the ship rocked heavily as it exited warp space at the spearhead of the task force.

It was soon apparent to Kaldrin that this was no ordinary warp storm. View screens all over the hangar projected views of the massive warp storm and the unknown fleet that had only been detected by line of sight vision. As space marines rushed around him, Kaldrin was joined by Captain Hiro. "Is it them again?" Kaldrin asked, watching the screen. "For sure, brother." Hiro said. The screen flickered as it projected views of what could only be the Black Legion. Kaldrin's mind wandered back to Cadia, from when they had fought very brief skirmishes with the Black Legion in close combat. The Black Legion fought with a tenacity only matched by, well, the Golden Legion. Plus the fact that many of them were imbued with Chaos powers had only made things harder on the Golden Legion. However, what stood out to Kaldrin was the one they had shouted to as Alistair. There was something... strange about that one. However, Kaldrin had genuinely become nervous when the armored figure had looked at him dead on. Kaldrin's visor slits had literally imploded inside his helmet. Once again, however, Kaldrin did not have time to reminisce in memories. As pictures of the fleet continued to flow in, Kaldrin was pulled by Ferox in a hurried manner towards a drop pod, where members of Gold Two awaited him. "Get your head in the game, boy, and you'll do alright." Ferox said, pulling himself into the pod after Hiro. "Right." Kaldrin said. Pulling his Bolter close to his chest, Kaldrin entered the pod, taking the last seat closest to the blast-door as it slammed shut.

Vegas adict 07:56, 26 July 2009 (UTC)

Captain Lisendo stood on the observation deck of the grand cruiser Emperors Fist as it droped out of warp space.Beside it the Old Times,Rain of death and overwatch droped into real space.Behind the formation was the mighty titan carrier of the adeptus mechanicum.Lisendo watched the ships with a sense of awe even now after 100's of deployments the sight of an imperial fleet droping out of warp space still impressed him.He turned from the view and pulled on the last pieces of his power armour.Most steel fists wore there armour all the time but he found it uncomftable out of combat.With one last glance out the window he left the observation deck and made his way to the bridge.

As he arived the navy officers saluted quickly and then returned there atention to the screens."exactly the person i wanted to see"cried the ships captain."what for?"lisendo asked."Them"the captain said pointing to a screen.On it were three ships of the golden legion.Lisendo swore under his breath."Never mind captain.We'l deal with them later,Just keep your lances on standby."The man noded and lisendo left the room.So the golden legion were here and so were the black legion as well by the looks of things,intreasting.He walked into his chambers and picked up his combi bolter and power fist.With his weapons armed he made his way to the docking bay where the thunderhawk gunships of the 9th company awaited.Climbing onboard one he straped himself in and with a roar the thunderhawk made its way into the planets atmosphere.

Solbur 01:34, 27 July 2009 (UTC) '''Joining as one of Run's lackeys, with his permission. Page for this guy will come later.'''

The wounded young Imperial Guardsman squirmed on the ground, clutching at the stumps of his legs - both of which having been cleanly severed by a Bolter round to his left calf. He looked up and his eyes widened, and, despite bleeding to death, took hold of his Laspistol and raised it, leveling the Cadian-made muzzle of his sidearm and steadying it before squeezing the trigger once. He started tapping the trigger repetitively with his hand, firing blast after blast, but his target did not relent.

"Oh, put the flashlight down, boy, and ascend this plane with some dignity," Hadrius hissed as another shot glanced his chest armour harmlessly. Stubborn, stubborn Imperials. If he couldn't tell that the man's head was swimming with the Corpse God's false dogma at the time, he would have appreciated his opponent's final defiance. He shook his head slowly before applying a light backhand slap to the man's hand, knocking the weapon from his grip and his arm back to his side. He took a casual step forwards, gently pressing his gargantuan armoured boot down on the bloody stumps of the man's legs and watching carefully for a reaction. The Guardsman's face contorted in anguish and a few gasping groans of pain escaped his mouth, so Hadrius took the liberty to apply more force to the stumps.

As the man began to scream, he silenced it just as quickly with a simple flick of his Lightning Claw, which incidentally sent the wicked talon straight through the man's head. He took his foot off his body and pulled the claw out, smiling slightly as he examined the remnants of brain and bone that still clung to each finger. He'd been taking lives in the name of Chaos for so long and he still relished in each kill as though it was his first. Flexing his gauntleted fingers momentarily, he closed his fist (well, as far as his Lightning Claw would allow) as Alistair addressed the company, before nodding in silence and returning his attention to the body below him. He severed what remained of his head with a single stroke of his clawed finger and collected it, holding the trophy in his hand gingerly for a moment before moving onto his next victim.

Run4urLife!

Alistair sensed something above. Even so far away, he could feel that many souls. The Angel would need such a sacrifice to be truly tested. If it was worth taking, then Alistair would take it. If not, he would destroy it. The Imperials truly feared his presence on a world. He could feel Space Marines, their souls shining bright like beacon fires in the Warp, surrounded by tempting daemons day and night. Alistair knew all too well how it felt to tread the knife-edge that separated righteousness and tyranny. And he had stepped onto the tyrant's side of the blade. And not once did he regret that decision. Not even when the Legion broke on Terra, not when they were shunned by their fellow Chaos Space Marines, not even when Abbadon was cast back into the Eye over and over in the Black Crusades, because Alistair knew that eventually, Chaos would succeed. Chaos was eternal. And through it, the Black Legion, the Dark Gods' chosen servants, became eternal. They had all time to await that one slip that would leave Terra itself open to assault. But now was not the time for such musings. Alistair walked past another group of Chaos Marines, who were busy trying to suppress a Khornate Berserker who was still suffering from his battle rage.

With a gesture, Alistair silenced the murderous psychopath. He marched towards a group of prisoners, a towering leviathan in ancient Power Armour, they all shied form his gaze. Alistair touched the first one's brow. He reached into her mind. She knew nothing of the world. She was a fresh Arbite transfer from a nearby moon. She screamed and fell, blood leaking from her glazed eyes. Alistair gripped the next one. He too knew nothing. A farmer who was handed a lasgun and sent to fight. He didn't scream. He fell silently, then howled uncontrollably as he spasmed so hard he broke his own spine. Flesh sloughed off in great lumps and reformed on his uncontrollably mutating skeleton before the whole mass collapsed into a heap of what resembled bloody vomit. Apparently, the wretch was unwilling to accept the gift of mutation. Alistair chuckled as another human looked him defiantly in the face, not quite able to meet the Chaos Lord's gaze. Alistair grabbed that one, and saw something. A great dome buried under a mountain. Men went mad as they touched it. Others disappeared. That was it.

"You have done well, little one," Alistair said. He would make this easy and painless for the man. Tightening his grip slightly, Alistair twisted the man's head left, then right. He turned away and indicated that the Chaos Marines standing neaby should execute the others. The maniacal firing ceased long after the mangled bodies had stopped moving. "Chosen of Chaos, we move at nightfall. Devour the fallen, pray to Chaos. Do what you will, but be ready to move on my command. Failure is not an option. Those found unprepared will earn nothing but a shallow grave and eternal damnation. Those with me will earn yourselves eternal glory in the eyes of the gods."

Vegas adict 20:42, 27 July 2009 (UTC) The thunderhawks engines slowed to a drone as it made its way down to the airstrip for the planetry capital.As Lisendo disended the ramp various techpriests and imperial officals gathered around the airstrip.The one looking most pompous and who lisendo asumed to be the planetery govenor stept forward."We are privilaged to have adeptus astartes on the planet"the man said,Lisendo dismised him with a flick of his hand."We are not here to help you with your litle war" the man looked visably shocked "Yes we know about the skirmish's in the foothils.We'r here to find somthing and your going to help us.We need every record you have regarding the xenos race the eldar" The man noded unable to speek.One of the techpriests steped forwards "il have them brought to the baracks we have set up for you".

As lisendo and his men set up stock in the baracks they noticed that they were decorated in the colours of the golden legion.Puffs,"Get it striped down men and replace it in our colours"

Dark Seer 03:00, 28 July 2009 (UTC)

Savark hit the ground hard, he tasted a mixture of dirt and blood in his mouth, he tried to move, it was the most painful thing he had ever done, he coughed blood out and breathed in fresh oxygen. It seemed he was out of the warp, how long had he been in there? to him it felt like a few hundred years at least, he found his eyes were closed and tried to open them, he has very little strength, after several minutes he managed to opened them, all he saw was dirt, another of his marines was a few meters away, he clenched his power fist and used himself up. He looked around, he seemed to be in a valley, all he could see was dirt, he stumbled as he walked as he walked he found more of his marines, some where getting up, they were all still alive, there was only ten of them, what happened to the rest? Robert... his damned brother, he would find him and kill him.

A few hours later the entire squad had pushed themselves up. They looked different to his memory image of them, but thats what time in the warp would do to you, he dropped the stone he was holding on the floor, completing the small crude chaos altar, only one thing was missing now, blood, human blood. "Farus!" he yelled one of the marines ran over to him "Did you find anybody?" he asked "Yes sir, a pair of hikers, their bodies are ready for the ritual" "Very good" Savark walked over to the bodies he smiled at the their pitifulness

KuHB1aM 00:08, 2 August 2009 (UTC) (trying to catch up with a big post)

The drop pod slammed open as Golden Legionnaires piled out of the drop pod, which had just recently slammed into the ground with a thud that could be heard for miles. Around them, other drop pods continued to slam into the hilly rural area, landing with a thud, some of them off-target and some of them on-target. Spread out over the mountain valley, Kaldrin watched from his own ramp as numerous hexagonal shapes came down like fiery comets in the valley. Even more numerous were the veteran Golden Legionnaires spread out in combat formation, bolters and other weapons raised in readiness. Kaldrin jogged down his ramp, bolter jogging up and down in his arms.

It wasn't until he had slapped his helmet around a bit from vertigo that he noticed the scene around them. It was a valley town, or at least it had been. What Kaldrin had imagined had been a picturesque little hamlet on Soren Primus was now burning with the fires of Chaos. Corpses lay impaled from various growths and spikes, and numerous buildings were covered in black soot and ashen waste. "My god... what in the Throne could have caused this?" Captain Hiro whispered as he passed Kaldrin, almost bumping into him as the town echoed with the sounds of death and daemonic forces at work. Kaldrin realized he was on the main street on the hilly valley town. "Kaldrin! Hiro!" Someone called out to him. Kaldrin turned fully around to come face to face with Baldur, who waved him to an odd site at the center of the square down the street. His steps extremely loud, Kaldrin jogged with fast efficiency past the various corpses and dead humans. As he approached Ferox from behind with Hiro directly in front of him, Kaldrin's eyes widened slightly as he saw the sight before. A single Chaos Space Marine, clad in the mutated, matte black power armor of the Black Legion, lay in the center of the black-coated tile street. His armor was still crackling with the spent Imperial flamers that lay around him, and his helmet and head were non-existent. However, what was around him was disgusting. It was an Imperial blockade, and it was full of dead, fresh corpses still wearing tattered imperial uniforms. Leman Russ tanks were flipped over in various states against buildings with their turrets destroyed, and Kaldrin identified numerous Khorne daemons and disgusting humanoid plagued mutants amongst the dead. Spent ammunition was uniform all over the floor, and blown out walls were common place.

"This place rots with the stench of our former brothers." Kaldrin said, kicking over a dead corpse. It was a plagued human, like the ones described in one of his briefings. It was a motley grey color, and it's eyes were pale yellow, like a Nazarene moon on a murky day in clouds. The clothes of a civilian riddled with bullets lay about the figure, and next to the former human was an Imperial guardsmen with a stub revolver still clutched in his cold dead hands, a slug having entered through his forehead. "I agree. This planet should be purged, Baldur." Hiro said in military precision, hefting a bolter in one hand and his other hand resting on the butt of his power sword's hilt. "It is a dead place, Baldur. Hiro is right." Kaldrin said, calling out to Ferox. The grizzled veteran still knelt at the side of the lone chaos space marine corpse. With a startle, Ferox drew his bolt pistol and planted the entire clip into the man's chest, striking both dead hearts and certain organs that lay exposed through his charred, ripped armor. "The populace of this world is not our concern. We have a mission." Ferox said, ignoring both Kaldrin and Hiro. "We will do the Senate's bidding, then burn this world with the Emperor's Hand. Maybe yet this world can be purged with our golden light." Baldur said, continuing with his cliche bad-ass voice. Kaldrin turned as more Golden Legionnaires appeared from various parts of the town,hustling to secure buildings and creating a perimeter whilst Brother-Sergeants shouted orders. Above, the drop ships and transports of the Imperial Guard could be seen landing in the surround valley and town, and already on the ground Guardsmen cleared bodies and wiped away soot from serviceable buildings. Kaldrin stopped staring around him for a moment to approach Baldur. The space marine's gaze had become entranced by the symbol on the shoulder of the Black Legionnaire. "Alistair's cadre are here." Ferox said. "Raise a drop ship. I want the governor to know who we are, what we are doing, and that we are in charge. And if those Steel Fist screw ups get in our way, I want them removed. Hiro, you are in charge until I return. You have full command of both companies and the Imperial Guard." Ferox said to Hiro. He snapped a salute. Ferox then turned to Kaldrin. "Your with me, as with your squad. Get going, champ."

Two hours later, right after the Steel Fist's descent to the capital...

Kaldrin's own Thunderhawk descended from the skies, passing over both cracked earth and rolling green pastures, with each in stark contrast to each other. The capital airstrip was bustling with activity, and Kaldrin looked downwards from the doorway of the cockpit as the thunderhawks of the Steel Fists lay grounded, testaments to the Steel Fists not wanting to man enough to land in possible combat zones. "Cowards. They whine about their little tanks making creaks and chipping paint, and then they land in the capital so they can stage their little boasting show." Kaldrin muttered. The Thunderhawk landed with a thud as it extended ramps and hit the airstrip. Kaldrin laughed at the stupid little figures acting confused as they saw yet another astartes ship land. As the ramp extended, Kaldrin was at Ferox's side as Steel Fists and Imperial officials approached them. What appeared to be the governor was shoved forward, a Steel Fist behind him. "On behalf of Soren Primus," the man said, gulping, "we welcome yet more Astartes to our humble planet who have to come to our salvation." The governor said, tugging at his collar and clearing his throat. Kaldrin could sense his nervousness; the short little mortal was a pathetic existence. Ferox raised a hand, extending his orders to the governor, who eyed them with widened pupils. "We are not here to save you, governor. We are here on the behalf of the Senate of Terra." Ferox said. Whispers rose amongst the crowd. "Silence!" Kaldrin roared, and the entire crowd quieted. His voice was like thunder, and it immediately sent a signal that the Golden Legion was no in the mood for trivial conversation. Kaldrin raised his voice for all to hear at the behest of Ferox. "This planet is now in the hands of the Golden Legion. All Imperial forces, staff, and Astartes are now subject to the authority of the Golden Legion!" Kaldrin spat, his helmet extremely intimidating as it swiveled to look at the various figures. "As of now, all Imperial forces will report to Ferox Baldur, Elder of the Golden Legion." Kaldrin shouted. There were no responses except for those from Steel Fists, most amongst them a Captain who approached Ferox to talk to him. Kaldrin drew his sword and placed it in between Ferox and the pathetic excuse for a Space Marine. "This is not up for debate, Fist." Kaldrin spat yet again, his tone a hiss of anger. The crimson-colored helmet turned to Kaldrin, full of anger at Kaldrin's rightful rudeness. However, he was unable to speak as Ferox, several feet taller, moved the sword, and came inches away from the Fist. "I'm in control here. Not you. Understood? Unless you would like to feel Terra's rage in the form of my own fist, grunt." Ferox said. The Captain backed off slightly, almost as if he were uncertain or nervous. "Where is Lisendo?!" Ferox shouted across the airstrip, looking for the tank-hugger.

Run4urLife!My Talk

"MOVE!" came the singular bellow from Alistair as he passed through the massing ranks of the warband he had led here. They were to move through a pass not too far north of here. He had felt the lap dogs land in a valley on the next range over, close enough for them to intercept him if they acted swiftly. Although swift movement in these mountains would preclude care, and the preclusion of care would see the spit-licking scumbag Loyalists toppling from the passes by the dozen. An ignominious end for those who claimed to be Space Marines. As much as he hated the modern Guardsmen defiling the name of his worthy foes, he hated the Neo-Space Marines all the more. These rats were not Space Marines. The last true Imperial Space Marines died millennia ago. And it galled Alistair to his black heart that these new breed upstart "Codex Astartes Space Marines" would dare claim the legacy of the Legions of old. He spat, a thick, dark venom lashing out through the vox-grille of his armor, hissing and sizzling on the ground as it corroded the dirt it landed on. With a raging snarl, Alistair again roared the command to move. The warband responded, hastily, some would say fearfully, dousing fires and gathering up ritual items.

Alistair growled as he walked, his hands flexing at his sides. He itched to fight. He longed for battle with a worthy foe. Sadly, Loyalist Space Marines were sadly lacking in the worth area. He had hundreds of them mounted on his trophy rack onboard Requiem. He flexed his hands again. It had been so long since he last killed a foe whose blood he was glad to revel in. He was bored of easy kills. As elated as the Gods were to see him wade through enemy lines, trailing mangled bodies in his wake, he was less excited at butchering peons. And for a being of Alistair's power, nothing short of another Chaos Lord, Daemon Prince, or a space Marine Chapter Master would be more than a peon to him. Eldritch power sparked between his fingers as he let his thoughts wander. This world reminded him of Terra. He could taste the glory awaiting him. Unlike Terra, he would sieze this glory. The Angel would be his. Apotheosis would be his. Eternal glory. The Mantle of Daemonhood. At long last, he would eclipse Korda and Ygethmor and Zariphaston. At long last, Alistair would stand by Abaddon's right hand. He would meet Savark on the far side of the pass, and join with his small warband. The upstart would prove useful in this campaign. Alistair had seen it in one of his many visions.

Alistair thought of the Space Marines he would face here. Peons. Dogs. Worth no more than the blood on his blade. They were a far more fitting sacrifice than the mere humans he had been slaughtering for months now. But slaughter was no longer fulfilling. Those Imperial Loyalist dogs, his own "Little Brothers" would claim to come in the glory of the Primarchs and the Emperor. Alistair sneered in his helmet. He had walked in the shadow of the Primarchs. He had walked in the shadow of their False Emperor himself. He was a man. Admittedly an inspired man, but a man nonetheless. He was a shadow, a carcass. A selfish child who used the Galaxy as his playpen. Even thinking of that foul wretch enraged Alistair. The giant Black Legionnaire snarled as his hands clenched ever more intensely. His armoured fingers rasped against each other, and his emotions, rage, hate, bitterness, all began to wash off him, emanating in waves and putting his soldiers on edge. Many of them had walked in the very footsteps Alistair himself had walked. They knew why he was so angered. The difference between them and him was power. If he decided to act on his impulses, he could atomize any one of them with a thought. Break their backs with a casual gesture. Split them in half with a single enraged strike. He was terrible and magnificent all at once.

Alistair had seen ships ablaze above Terra. He had seen the very edge of the Galaxy. He had been a tireless destroyer for over ten thousand years. He was an example to them all. He had led them this far. They would all follow him to hell and back if it meant striking at the Imperium. They would do so gladly, because wherever they followed Alistair, glory was laid upon their brows, and wonders beyond mortal reckoning laid at their feet. If they found the Angel, this glory would be theirs eternally. They would follow Alistair until he or they lay dead, because wherever he walked, the Gaze of the Gods followed. And he walked on the ashes of the Imperium.

"The Angel will be ours. Glory will be ours. For glory! For the prize! For the Dark Gods!" Alistair bellowed as he moved to the head of the warband. His voice echoed not in the ears, but the minds and black hearts of his soldiers. With the Hound of Chaos leading them, glory would be theirs, bought with the blood and ash, and the widows and orphans of those who would dare bar their path. The Gods called for slaughter, and by the Gods, their thirst would be sated.

Dark Seer

Savark and his followers knelt before the altar in front, the man and women's body drained of all their blood, their heads removed from their bodies and their flesh removed from their skulls, the blood had been placed in small containers and poured on the poor excuse for an altar. He whispered a quiet prayer to the gods as did the others, the blood on the altar began to boil then glow, it ran through the small ditched carved into the rock, forming an eight pointed star, it glowed a glorious orange, before changing to blue, the rock rose into the air, getting brighter and brighter, Savark was determined not to look away, the rock expanded and compress it was glowing impossibly bright, drifted, then smashed into the earth, the small shards spreading everywhere, then they came back together forming clockwise in a circle as if something was in the middle, then they each began to glow. They spun so fast he could no longer pick them out individually, even with his enhanced senses and the close proximity. Then they stopped, they drifted for a few seconds and hit the ground, making a perfect circle, a figure stood in the middle of the circle, it was bat like, it was black and hunched, two leathery wings burst from it's back, fangs gleaming in it's mouth. "Sssvark..." it began "how...pleassant to ssee you..." "Jr'vis" Savark began "What does my masters wish of me here? Why have been spat out of the warp to... here?... on this planet?" "Our masstersss alwaysss have plansss" Jr'vis said "You are ssimply to naive and ssimple minded to undersstand the concept of chaoss, for the warpsss sake, you didn't even sside with Horuss! you will find out the... sscheme of thingsss, eventually" with that the daemon faded away. "Was there any point in that m' lord?" Farus asked "We know were here for a reason" Savark replied "And not just as part of the entertainment" Savark stood up, maybe his brother would be bought to him by whatever event was taking place.

"Savark!" Marnus, another of the chosen whose left hand had been replaced by a crab-like claw during their glorious time in the warp, came running down the mountain slopes "My Lord" Marnus began, kneeling on his left knee in front of his master "We have a large party heading our way, we have no chance of escaping they have tanks and many men, we will not be able to live through them" "Did you see their allegiance?" Farus questioned "Neigh, if i had stayed in my position much longer i would have been spotted, i can only tell you they are astarters and the are in black power armor" Templars! "Bolters out Boys!" Savark yelled

Vegas adict 22:19, 9 August 2009 (UTC)

"FEROX!" yelled lisendo as he strode across the landing pad."What the hell are you doing here?".Even with his power armour on ferox was still taller than lisendo.With lisendo being shorter than most space marines this wasn't that rare but his rank normaly made up for that.Ferox had some guts to come calling for him just because his chapter were the adeptus tera's lapdogs.They were both captains so he had no right to order him around.

71.204.91.106 02:20, 11 August 2009 (UTC) (Yo Run4, are you gonna attack my base camp? Cause I'm not over there right now.)

Kaldrin's attention turned to a shorter than most Steel Fist striding across the landing platform. He bore the heraldry of a Steel Fist Captain, and Kaldrin could only chuckle at how short the Space Marine was for Astartes standards. His helmeted gaze shifted to Ferox, whom no doubt was grinning inside his helmet was the squat little Steel Fist to try and size up to him. "What the hell are you doing here?" Lisendo demanded, still walking across the platform. His robes still flowing over his power armor, the massive figure of Ferox Baldur only crossed his arms, with his probable laughter concealed by his Mk5 Heresy-pattern helmet. As Lisendo was about to march right on up to Ferox, face to face (rather face to neck), Kaldrin immediately drew his power sword, Lukifitias, it's blade humming and crackling with energy, and placed it like before in between Ferox and Lisendo, who almost shot Kaldrin a look from his helmet that would freeze hell over. Kaldrin simply took off his helmet, cradling it in the crook of his arm, while his power sword remained in place. Ferox spoke up. "Good morning, my favorite little tank-hugger." Ferox said, his tone full of sarcasm.

"I'll say again; what the hell are you doing here?" Lisendo demanded, his gaze shifting back to Ferox. Snapping his fingers, a Golden Legionnaire presented Ferox with a second copy of his orders, which he handed to Captain Lisendo. "All Imperial forces and Astartes forces are now subject to the command of the Golden Legion. You are not to interfere with the Golden Legion's investigations, nor will you begin any type of investigation into archaeological sites or matters. More importantly, Eldar archaeological sites." Ferox explained. Kaldrin could tell Lisendo obviously wasn't pleased. "Any attempts to counter-mand these orders or to dis-obey them will be seen as treason. These are the direct instructions of the Council of Terra." Ferox said, watching as Lisendo looked over the list. "You are now under the Golden Legion's supervision, tank-hugger." Kaldrin grunted, sheathing his power sword.

Vegas adict 07:51, 11 August 2009 (UTC)

"That may be the case but we are not operating on our own"."Rearly" ferox said "Who are you with"."The Adeptus Mechanicus" said lisendo."And i belive that the adeptus terra have no power over the mechanicus.We are here to protect them.".

Chief Magos Kane walked on his biotic legs towards the golden legionaires with his plasma gun obvious.Lisendo was arguing with a legionaire with the symbol of a captain."IS there a problem captain?".Kane was shocked that the ateptus tera would send these pompus gits to find a zenos artifact.They had no idea what they were doing,Where was there tech priest delegation.

KuHB1aM 18:51, 11 August 2009 (UTC)

"Stay out of this, bionic." Ferox said with authority, not even bothering to acknowledge the half machine. And before they could make any references to Ferox's rank, he finally raised part of his robes, revealing his shoulder armor which had been concealed prior. It contained the insignia of a Senior Elder, which Kaldrin knew Ferox wore with distinction and pride. "I have no quarrel with you." Ferox said, turning back to Lisendo. Kaldrin took a moment to stare down a helmeted Steel Fist, who took notice, his body shifting as if he were nervous. Laughing inside his helmet, Kaldrin continued to watch the ungoing conversation. "Regardless of your pledge to the Mechanicum, tank-hugger, you owe your allegiance to Terra, and in this case, the Legion represents Terra. Comply with the Council's orders, or be dealt with, Fist." Ferox said. This was Kaldrin and the squad's que. They had anticipated the Steel Fists being resistant to supervision, and the phrase Be dealt with were the words for which Kaldrin and his squad drew bolters in readiness positions across their chests, as an act of intimidation. It easily scared the shit out of the mortals, and for the Steel Fists present, they were obviously suprised and increasingly nervous, now having to deal with bolters that had Terra's backing.

"I grow tired of this little argument." One of the brothers muttered over the vox-COM. "Quiet." Kaldrin said, then shut off the squad's private channel. Kaldrin's blue visor slits grew ominously brighter and darker as he stood in readiness. Of course, their safeties were turned on, but the weapons were still loaded never-the-less. "I'm waiting for answer, Lisendo." Ferox said. Kaldrin wished they could just get into a fight with the buggers. The Legion had the law on it's side, and if they got into a straight up fight, Kaldrin knew in close quarters they'd pretty much demolish the delegation of Fists. However, he knew such an action would draw immense criticism, and then the Inquisition would try to play their little game and investigate both sides before deciding to completely annihilate one Chapter. Plus it wouldn't help the situation, since the Legion would need everyone it could get. Kaldrin even considered the fact of telling the Steel Fists that the Black Legion was here. Of course, he figured the Imperial officials would reveal that soon enough. Pushing these and other thoughts out of his mind, Kaldrin yawned as Ferox waited for an answer.

Vegas adict 21:19, 11 August 2009 (UTC)

"Are you threatening me ferox?.You wouldn't dare"At the same time as he was speaking the chief librarian and the tech-priests were comunication with the machine spirits on the thunderhawk and astropaths in the fleet above.On the end of that sentance the thunderhawk canon on lisendos gunship pointed towards its Golden Legion counnterpart and far above in space the masive lance bateries on the steel fists flagship a mighty Grand Gruiser pointed towards the capital.

On the ship chief magos Royland was suprised to here the clicks of the lance bateries in posistion."I demand a meeting with the admrill"he yelled into the vox.Shortly afterwards he was on the admrils deck."What are you doing admril?".The man looked uncomftable but he eventualy replied."Lisendo and kane are arguing with Ferox.Somthing about the council of terra ordering the Steel Fists around"."They are our boss's Admril"the Chief Magos replied,"Tell Lisendo to back down,Its not worth it.Get him to tell Ferrox this,The steel fists will bow to his orders but the mechanicus will continue an independant investication.We request the use of the steel fists as a bodyguard but will continue without them using our titan and Scipari as bodyguards."

Lisendo repeated Roylands statement to ferrox and the guns cycled back into idle.

Run4urLife!My Talk 21:55, 11 August 2009 (UTC) (You'll have to wait a while for me to start butchering your troops KuH. I'll get an article up for the 3rd sometime)

As Alistair crested another rise in the pass he froze in his step. Raising a massive fist, he halted the warband at his heels. Even the four Defilers scuttling along with them froze at a signal from their master. Alistair opened and closed his hand three times in quick succession and then lowered it slowly. He raised it again and waved it ahead, his forefingers extended further than his ring and little fingers, his thumb pointed straight upwards. The whole Warband knew those signals, having fought by Alistair's side for Ten Thousand years. Some of them for longer. In unison, they all chambered a shot in their bolters. Not one of them out of time with the others. The unified "click", magnified by the numbers of the warband echoed over the path. He could have sworn he spotted a shape with a bolter below. He cast out with his mind, searching the pass below and the smaller trails above. He spotted a man and latched onto him with a telekinetic grip. Pinning the man's limbs and jamming his weapon, Alistair knew it was a Space Marine, but of what inclination? A follower of the Truth, a Chaos Space Marine, or an Imperial Neo-Space Marine immitation soldier. He didn't need the gesture, but he did it out of habit. He waved his hand, forcibly yanking the soldier out of cover. Ally. He bore the mark of the Black Legion, emblazoned crudely over Space Wolves iconography. And Savark's brand on his opposite shoulder. Alistair waved the host at his back up over the pass as he moved along himself.

"Get Savark down here. Now!" Alistair snarled as he came within shouting distance of the Chaos Marine, his voice like an avalanche. "Do not make me repeat myself!"

The Renegade busied himself charging up the pass to inform his master that the Hound had arrived. Alistair himself waved a hand, giving the signal to move at ease to his host behind him. The Chaos Marines passed on the signal and soon the pass, itself the shoulder of two mountains, was heaving with racous shouts and prayers to the Dark Gods. A sorceror was scrying the runes not too far away. Alistair watched as the runes spun and carrened around in the air before finally stopping, spinning a good six inches off the ground as the Sorceror crouched, watching intently. Alistair shifted impatiently as he awaited Savark's arrival. The Imperial Fist knew all too well that Alistair had seen him in his visions, and that Alistair would never deny a vision from the Gods. In spite of Alistair's undeniable superiority, in both rank and power, individual and militarily, he could make the ancient Chaos Lord wait. To vent a little steam, Alistair drew his sword and cut down a passing prisoner, cleaving him in two, wiping and reasheathing his blade before the body could fall in half. The other prisoners shuffled ever slower now that they were dragging the shorn lower body of their slain compatriot.

"Move! Quicker, dogs, before I kill another one of you!" Alistair roared at them. A little spike of psychic power laced into the words forced them to move faster. The slaver dragging them applied his own lash, a long whip that writhed and lashed of it's own accord suddenly obeying its master's will and tearing into the prisoners, scourging their flesh.

Alistair looked up as Savark finally appeared at the far end of the pass. Alistair snarled, irritated by the younger Chaos Lord's smug demeanor. Much as he wished he could strike the whelp's head from his shoulders for this affront, he would not risk this task. Least of all to sate his own anger. Putting one's own desires ahead of a task given by the Gods was not a wise decision. Alistair kept a former comrade as a pet and a reminder of the damnation one would suffer for such arrogance. The thing that had once been Alistair's right hand, his first mate aboard the Requiem, now slavered and thrashed in a cage on the command bridge. Alistair wondered if he would need Savark after this task from the Gods. If not, it would be Alistair's turn to rattle cages.

KuHB1aM 01:37, 14 August 2009 (UTC) (Moving things along here. Vegas, your welcome to do whatever you want, but I suggest following my course and heading for our HQ. Alot of fighting is gonna go on over there in the future.)

Kaldrin laughed inside his intimidating helmet as the Steel Fist Lisendo suddenly changed his smart-ass attitude after receiving a COM transmission from some kind of Admiral. As Lisendo explained his story to Ferox Baldur, Kaldrin headed back to the Thunderhawk, which was still humming with active engines, and notified the pilot that they'd be heading back to the ash town base camp soon; likely within minutes. As the pilot returned to prepping the dropship for take-off, Kaldrin returned to find the Golden Legionnaires passing by him to board the dropship, and Ferox approaching him as Lisendo argued in the background with pissed off Steel Fists who were willing to take on Terra's Will for a chance to bust some heads. Kaldrin approached Ferox, a swagger in his step. Sighing, Ferox addressed him. "I'll be staying here to make arrangements and switch around forces. Report back to the ash valley. I'm sure Hiro will need you in the coming days." Ferox said. Without complaining, Kaldrin banged his fist against his chest in a salute, and sprinted back towards the Thunderhawk, which was about to dust off. Jumping onboard, Kaldrin nodded in respect as the ramp sealed up completely, and the Thunderhawk disappeared from the capital, speeding through the air with urgency in it's engines.

Two hours later...

The Thunderhawk touched down inside the ashen town once more. As Kaldrin watched from already lowered ramp, he noticed how the entire town had changed. Many of the bodies and debris had been cleared away and used to form barriers and roadblocks, and many useful buildings had been scrubbed away and painted with identification so that soldiers and astartes could find their way around the valley town. The sky in this part of the world, however, was still bright red, with crackling energy and lightning, and cacaphonic phrases to chaos being shouted in the distance in the tongues of evil. Of course, Kaldrin paid these dread omens no heed. They would simply get underneath his skin and make him lower his "A-game." As the Thunderhawk lowered down on an artificial landing pad, Kaldrin was the first to get off, jumping from the ramp and landing several feet down, where an awaiting Captain Hiro was not so pleased. Brushing his golden colored armor off, Kaldrin saluted with his fist thingy maneuver, then waited as Hiro addressed him. "Welcome back, hotshot." Hiro said in a typical foreign accent. "Walk with me." Hiro said, swiveling on his armored feet and turning around. Imperial Guardsmen moved past them by the dozens in every direction, their greenish flak armor uniform and common. "You know we spotted Requeim in orbit, correct?" Hiro said. Kaldrin nodded. "Alistair and his cadre are on the ground." Hiro muttered.

Vegas adict 08:23, 14 August 2009 (UTC)

Back on the fleet auspex scans were detecting an unknown chaos battle barge entering the system."tell lisendo that a chaos battle barge has entered the system".On the ground lisendo was still yelling at some anoyed steel fists.When he hered the comm from space."SHUT IT,Theres a chaos barge in the system.".He strode towards ferrox "Our fleet has just detected a chaos barge in the system.Do you know anything about it?"

Act 2
Dark Seer

Grugar came sprinting down the hill "Lord Savark" he yelled, Savark turned to him and raised and eyebrow as he stopped an knelt before him "My lord, the army that is coming they are alias of the black legi-" Savark grabbed his thought with his power fist "So, you decided to give your position away hmm? why would that be?" "Psy-psyker my... my lord" Grugar chocked, "Very well" said Savark releasing him. "Looks like we now know why we are here, lets go" they walked for only 5 minutes when they came across the army of the black legion "My Lord" Savark turned to see Farus talking "Is it really... wise to be showing yourself to an entire army?" "Are you questioning my authority? but you are correct, but if the gods want be to die then by the gods I ill die" Savark walked out, his Bolter pointed forward, not that it would do much good "So" he yelled "Where is my Psyker?"

Run4My Talk

Alistair strode up that hill to Savark. Instinctively locking the mechanisms of Savark's Bolter, he waved away the bodyguards gathered with the Chaos Lieutenant. Savark seemed a little hacked off at Alistair dismissing his bodyguards so nonchalantly, but made the rather wise decision not to aggravate one of Abaddon's Chosen. Savark's bodyguards looked no more pleased at their dismissal than their master, but the shadow of Alistair's own retinue standing not too far away was more than enough reason to comply. Alistair folded his arms and looked out into the pass beyond Savark's camp, striding past his fellow Chaos Lord and indicating that he should follow. Savark seemed none too pleased about being ordered along. Or maybe he was just envious of power he himself didn't have to abuse. He stepped up alongside Alistair, coming up just over a foot shorter than the borderline-daemonic Chaos Lord.

"Savark, our little Brothers walk this world with us. They would try to purge us from this scorched orb. They know nothing of the prize. There is a significant holding of the Loyalist Dogs two valleys to the east. They are setting up camp in a small town I razed to the ground over a month ago. The Taint should still be strong. We can strike now, or strike when the Taint begins to wear on their minds and souls. I grant you this task, and I will support whatever choice you make. The battle or the slaughter. I have the more pressing matter of scrying for the presence of the Angel to attend to. Make your preparations and your plans. Hadrius will join you for now, I will join your battle later. You may take two of the Defilers, and if the need is dire enough, I can send a pair of Predators, or Dreadnoughts. I will join later with greater forces. Have one of my Sorcerors inform me of your decision and your plans. I sense that one of the dogs is more important to this than the others. I cannot find him in the camp. Leave none alive," Alistair stated. He seemed a little distracted. He could sense the voices of the Gods whispering to him again. Soothing whispers, promises of power. And muttering one name over and over. Kaldrin.

Alistair turned and strode away. While it would undoubtedly be more impressive to move through the Warp, it would be extremely dangerous in this state of distraction. He snarled inside his helmet, his vocalizer reducing the savage sound to a low, bestial growl. Alistair's bodyguards surrounded him again, all on edge with their master's annoyance.

KuHB1aM 22:08, 16 August 2009 (UTC) (I presume Savark will be bringing daemons with him? Cause there are two Imperial Guard regiments and two astartes companies. Sorry for the short post, by the way)

Ferox laughed at Lisendo's question. "That tainted vessel? It appeared several days ago, Fist." Ferox said, chuckling at the tank-huggers question. Lisendo was obviously confused with Ferox's mockery. "It is the flagship of the Chaos Lord known as Alistair. It goes by the name of Requiem." Ferox explained, motioning for Lisendo and his body guards to walk with him. "It is the Black Legion, brother." Ferox whispered to Lisendo, keeping it out of hearing from the other space marines. "This planet will burn, and everyone save the astartes will perish along with it." Ferox said. His voice was filled with utter urgency, the cockiness and arrogance from before having vanished without a trace. "I will tell you something, Lisendo." Ferox said, approaching the railing of the landing platform and looking out into the sun's morning gaze. "The Council is looking for something on this planet. They want it bad, too. So bad that they sent us with an entire task-force and two entire guard regiments to secure for what is supposedly an errand-boy mission. If the Black Legion wants it as well, it must not leave this planet." Ferox said. "You will see to that. I will remove the taint from this world; you will find this artifact and destroy it." Ferox said, looking at Lisendo.

Kaldrin looked out into the distance from the barricades that had been set up in a massive perimeter around the town, which was fairly large for a rural area. Hundreds of guardsmen could be seen running around or conducting patrols and guard duty, and amongst all the commotion Kaldrin could occasionally pick out Golden Legionnaires amongst the crowd. It hadn't been long since Hiro had revealed Alistair's presence. The name sent a chill down his spine. Alistair. Kaldrin knew the man's name from his time on Cadia, although his adversary certainly did not know his own surname. The stair the chaos tainted brother had given him had almost been enough to create the feeling of a warp storm contained inside Kaldrin's armor. Hefting his bolter, Kaldrin shoved the thought out of his head as he looked into the distance. For some reason, although Kaldrin couldn't quite put his thumb on it, he had a big feeling that he'd be meeting with Alistair and his chaos lackeys in the next few days to bust some heads. To be honest, Kaldrin didn't relish the thought, and it wasn't very appealing to him as a prospect for the future.

Run4My Talk (Alistair will have his toy. The Angel is mine. Anyway, time for some plot advancement . . .)

Alistair crouched atop one of the mountains. He had levelled the spot out himself. It was the flattest area on the planet. For a Ritual of this power, even a misplaced grain of sand could mean spasms, brain-wracking pain for days, uncontrollable mutation. Maybe even spontaneous immolation. It all depended on how offended the Gods were, or whether or not they were in a twisted mood. So much was out of Alistairs control, but such was the nature of Chaos. Like water, ever changing, ever flowing. When one thought about it, or had any insight into the nature of the universe, one would realise that the only true constant was the Chaos Gods themselves. The Warp was constantly changing and flowing. You never touched the same part of the Warp twice. It was ecstacy to feel the change, to have even the slightest notion of the universe. Alistair had been granted small insight on several occassions by Tzeentch. Alistair circled the area he was to set up the ritual ring on. He paced around the edge before crouching again and gouging a circle in the ground with his finger. He began drawing blasphemous runes in that circle, tracing them out in the stony ground as he channeled as much Warp Energy as he was willing to risk into the pattern that was forming on the ground. He would be a beacon to anyone searching for psykers, but he had far more awareness of the Warp than any of the psykers on this world. He could burn them to ash and still complete the ritual if they dared disturb him. One Sacntioned Psyker in the Space Marine's camp below had such impudence. The fool human tried to home in on Alistair.

Anyone in the surrounding area of the camp froze, staring in a mix of horror and fascination as the Sanctioned Psyker froze. His face twitched and his cheeks ticked. His teeth chattered as his jaws clenched and ground the teeth together. The man's face and jaw spasmed again. The sound of cracking teeth filled the air as the man let out a mournful whine. Had his jaw not been clenched, he would have screamed as his own seizures crushed his teeth against each other, driving their roots up into his gums and cracking them to pieces. Blood washed the loose fragments down his neck and out through his lips, dribbling down his chin. The man's eyes began to glow as his arms and fingers twitched slightly. Another snap sounded as the man's fingers broke and dislocated. He began to rise into the air, stopping when he was just high enough to be seen plainly by anyone with a line of sight to him. Then, Alistair allowed him to scream. Baleful white light spilled from the man's eyes and mouth as blood leaked from his nose and ears. Then from his eyes. His chest disdended and cracked, his ribs breaking and his sternum cracking. He howled again as his spine shattered. Then came the dazzling crescendo of the display. The man howled ever louder and burst into a ghostly white flame. He howled and howled until nothing was left of him. Nothing but ashes scattered by no earthly wind. Inside his helmet, back up on that mountain, Alistair smiled. Small comfort, torturing a mere human, but he would have preferred a Librarian. They lasted so much longer, and gave so many more options for pain. Alistair, while he had been destroying the unfortunate Sanctioned Psyker, had finished his Ritual Circle.

He stood up and strode over to his various tools for the ritual. He lifted the small wraithbone pot full of blood, dipping his hand into it, he placed a bloody handprint in the centre of the circle. taking another handful of blood from the container, he scattered it over the circle. With a little bit of telekinetic pressure, he forced the blood off his gauntlet entirely and dripped it into the circle. Reaching backwards, he picked up a pouch made of Eldar skin. He reached into the small pouch, removing a small pinch of powdered human bone. He scattered that much like the blood, muttering an incantation in one of the myriad Daemon Languages. Eventually, he reached back and took up a small vial of thick, black fluid, bubbling away. Alistair opened this small container of Daemon blood, savouring the scent of violence it gave off. He let that ooze out over the centre of the circle, hissing as it touched the bloody handprint. Finally, Alistair stood up, and drew his Shortsword. Thumbing the activation rune, he strode ofer to his sacrificial victim. A ritual of this type needed one, and Alistair could smell her fear. Such terror would only make the ritual more accurate. Roughly lifting the girl, who immediately began sobbing, he carried her by the arm over to the ritual circle and dropped her in the centre. She screamed and stood, turning to flee.

"Kneel!" Alistair roared. She dropped to her knees, not of her will, but of his. A little bit of psychic power went a long way to get Blunts to bow to one's will.

Alistair circled around behind her and raised the shortsword, clenching it in both leviathan hands. Muttering a quiet prayer to Chaos to anoint his blade, he reversed his grip on the sword and raised it, blade pointing downwards, right between the sobbing, blubbering girl's shoulder blades. She was a despicable wreck. Without a sound, Alistair plunged the blade downwards, impaling the girl on it and driving it through her and into the centre of the circle below. Her blood flowed along the blade and into the circle, as Alistair completed the incantation. To truly finish the ritual, he removed his gauntlet and drew a knife. Holding his now bare hand over the ring, he plunged the blade into his palm, letting his power-laced blood spill into the circle. Abruptly, the whole thing burst into flame. Ghostly, unearthly white flames. Alsitair calmly redonned his gauntlet before kneeling in front of the flames and staring intently into them. None of his bodyguards saw anything in the flames, but then, none of them were Sorcerors of his power. He saw it, from the beginning. The Eldar in their Undercity on this world. The creation of the Angel. He could taste the fear the Eldar held for it. They knew what a monster they had created. And Alistair knew where to find it. Abruptly as they had started, the flames disappeared. Nothing was left of the circle but Alistair's sword, standing untouched by the flames in the centre of a ring of ash. Nothing would ever grow on that spot ever again. No beast would ever set foot on such tainted ground either. Like the Monolith on Armageddon, this would be an eternal taint on this world. Alistair smiled. Violating Imperial worlds was it's own reward. He sheathed his shortsword and turned to face his retinue.

"To battle Brothers. There is blood to be spilled, and Savark and his younglings will not have the only hand in it," Alistair said bluntly, striding past them. They effortlessly formed up behind him. Gone was the past months' tension and anger, gone was the strain and that actinic tang of barely-concealed rage. All replaced by one singular notion. Impending glory.

Dark Seer

Savark stalked away, how dare that bastard assume he could take command of him! but know he had the chance to reck Havoc, but he only had two defilers ten men including himself and a group of sorcerers! Then again he was a servant of chaos, he could summon some daemons, that could be fun, but the settlement was probably heavily defended, their would be AA and interceptor guns, there was no way he could get their before being shot to pieces, so a ground assault was out of the question. he stepped on some white ants, they reminded him of some extinct white ants that tunneled through everything on Terra. Termites. He was suddenly reminded of a machine of the mechanics of the great crusade, he may not be able to get any of them, but he did have a pair of defilers,If he got some daemons he could receive some Soul grinders. "My Lord" Savark turned around to see Farus and another marine in blue and gold armor, white runes and robes surrounded his body, "My Lord this is Umbek, Sorcerer of the Thousand sons" "Thank you" Umbek said, his voice slow and heavy, as if he was old as Terra itself. "Umbek, do you have any daemonic pacts? specifically with soul grinders" "Yes sir" Umbek said, surprised by the sudden question "Can the Soul grinders be summoned before a sacrifice" "No sir, however we could sacrifice one of our sorcerers, that could give us about three" Savark smiled slowly, "Then it must be done at once" "Yes sir" Umbek bowed and walked towards his group of sorcerers. "What have you got planned?" asked Farus "Termites" said Savark smiling.

A week Later

They had been digging for a entire week, the defilers and a pair of soul grinders smashing through the rock, the Sorcerers blowing parts of the tunnel with but their minds, Savark's men dug through using shovels and picks. they were exactly beneath the city center now, May tunnels shed of to other areas, these had already been opened, a few cultists had come down into the tunnels, they would come out of those holes later, lasguns blazing. "We do this for the glory of the chaos gods" finished Umbek, the ritual had been complete, for every five guardsmen they killed and every marine they killed, daemons would arrive. "Umbek if you wouldn't mind" said Savark, Umbek muttered a few words, pure energy came into being between his fingers, this became the size of a bolter shell,then the size of a autocannon then it was the size of three men. at this point he pushed it towards the ceiling, the Roof blew opened, a few daemons appeared, obviously the explosion itself killed a few guardsmen and marines. Savark smiled as he raised his bolter and climbed up, he looked around the top of the hole, it seemed they had entered the command center, a few marines in gold and others in red and back, they were all staggering to their feet Savark shot two through the skull, he crushed what seemed to be the imperial governor beneath his power fist, a few Khornate Daemons appeared and a pink Horror. these began butchering all within reach, "IN THE NAME OF CHAOS" Savark Roared with glee, "Umbek, contact Allistar, he may want his share of blood"

KuHB1aM 01:11, 18 August 2009 (UTC) (Next time, please don't burrow a hole in the center of my base. It's un-sportful.)

Kaldrin heard a massive rumble as the command center, down across the street inside the town, swirled with smoke pouring outward. An attack from within, eh? His head turned as Hiro moved to address him. "I'm getting reports of cultists as well as Black Legionnaires inside the city center. I'm also getting reports of plagued hitting the outside perimeter. You will contain the inside threat, Kaldrin. Go now!" Hiro said with authority, rushing off. "Finally!" said Brother Loki, wielding a heavy bolter. "To arms!" Kaldrin shouted, rallying the general area around him. The thought of such a foolish attack made Kaldrin laugh. The enemy was in a death trap; their numbers would be useless in confined quarters. Drawing his power sword, Kaldrin began sprinting down the street as smoke began to pour. Already, Kaldrin took notice as marines and guardsmen set up a massive perimeter around the holes appearing. Leaping past the hastily set up barricades, Kaldrin power sword glowed in the amber red light of morning sky as he slammed into a Black Legionnaire, using his helmet to butt into the chao marine's chest. It hit with such force that the chaos marine was thrown on his back, his weapons gone from his hands. Kaldrin gave no second thought as he slammed his power sword through the ceramite armor plate of the Black Legionnaire, causing blood to gush out and spray over Kaldrin's bright gold power armor. The Black Legionnaire hissed something incoherent in some xenos language as Kaldrin pulled his bolt pistol out and fired a burst into the chaos marine's head, the helmet's front folding inward as the chaos marine seized to live. Taking the moment to stomp his head in, Kaldrin looked around at the scenery.

Golden Legionnaires, Steel Fists, and Imperial Guardsmen were extremely busy containing the inside threat while fighting horrendous close combat with daemons, cultists, and of course various Black Legionnaires. Although the Golden Legion was bred for close combat, the same could not be said for their Steel Fist counterparts, who had their hands full with various fights. However, the situation was obviously not tottering in either side's favor. As cultists began to pour out alongside daemons, their random firing occasionally killed Guardsmen, whose concentrated, albeit sporadic fire was increasingly deadly from sandbags and rooftops. However, another building collapsed as a second major hole was opened, and yet the perimeter had to be adjusted again. It was complete and utter chaos. Kaldrin watched as Brother Loki, hefting his heavy bolter, mowed several cultists at once, unloading his ammunition into the expendable tank-fodder cultists. Returning from his mental vacation, Kaldrin hefted his power sword again as he cleaved a lesser daemon in two, slicing his head clean from his torso and leaving his body to fall back on a wounded cultist, who was screaming for help from his comrades. Again hefting his bolt pistol, Kaldrin was beaten to the punch as an anxious Guardsman put a lasround clean through the man's skull, leaving his head a steaming pile of slag. His bolt pistol moved to another target as he fired the entire clip into a Black Legionnaire, his chest armor cracking open like a walnut. Stunned, but unwounded, the Black Legionnaire bellowed as Kaldrin holstered the pistol, drew his other one, and emptied that clip into the chaos marine's chest, causing blood to spray everywhere. The corpse of the chaos marine fell backwards ontop of two cultists, crushing them utterly. Laughing, Kaldrin continued to chuckle mid-battle as a Dreadnought, clad in Golden Legion colors, entered the fray, chain-guns in either hand. It emptied into the crowds of cultists emerging from the holes, then proceeded to wade into the red mist of fluid and attack with flamers and it's arm blades. "Old Pylori entering the fight, eh?" Loki shouted. Old Pylori responded by firing his flamer into the air. Turning back to the battle, Kaldrin set his sights on the leader as the inside attack weakened partially. He was obviously powerful, as the corpses of several dozen Imperial Guardsmen and a few astartes lay at his feet. Drawing his power sword, Kaldrin shouted for his squad to regroup on him.

Dark Seer

Savark smiled at the chaos around him, many of his men were dying, but many daemons were being summoned, their deaths too where welcome to chaos, A great golden dreadnought stormed into the center, Savark Laughed as it came in, mowing down a swath of loyalists, It saw him and came for him, Savark laughed as a defiler burst out of the ground behind him, the blasphemous machine crushing the dreadnought in it's claws, the other defiler and the soul grinders came out of the hole, the guardsmen and marines being horribly decimated. The carnage was magnificent to behold, lesser Daemons poured out of the hole a bloodthirstier, came out as the dreadnought was completely destroyed, the metal coffin obliterated,. Only three of Savark's companions were left, fighting by his side, they would have to do for now. "Umbek" Savark called "Get the cultists and defilers to destroy the AA mounts! i want a stormbird in here as soon as possible" the defilers soon turned their attention to firing into the distance, the cultists continued to pour forth and daemons left as their mortal existence was destroyed. One of the defilers was destroyed and the lord of change was released, it sent spell after spell at the enemy and the AA mounts, their destruction was vital. "Savark" Farus called behind him, firing his two bolters into the oncoming hoard of guardsmen "The AA mounts are out" he yelled over his own gunfire. Savark smiled, soon the entire city would be destroyed. Savark slammed a new ammo clip into his bolter as las fire failed to penetrate his power armor. The blood thirster carved a predator tank in half, another sweep of his axe killed a whole squad of golden armored marines. Savark heard the scream of powerful engines a gold thunderhawk, Savark smiled, this seemed to be a loyalist but it was truly a black legion ship. Savark and the surviving marines scrambled onto the thunderhawk, the ship was quickly inside, the daemons continuing the killing. the blood would be needed. "Pilot, drop the bombs!" "Sir!" the pilot yelled out "The bombs are jammed!" "What?!" yelled Savark "NO!" The Thunderhawk shook violently as he heard the explosion go off, this was no going to end well, the Thunderhawk began to tip down, gaining speed, it was going to go nose first into the city and he would surly die. "Savark" Farus yelled "Jump packs sir!" he threw one to savark, there were only two "What about me?!" screamed Umbek "Use your Sorcerous powers to save yourself" said Savark as he jumped out of the thunderhawk, right before it crashed, That Thunderhawk had been rigged. Savark landed in the street, Farus next to him, they had two options now, run back to camp and be executed by Alistair or try and rig the explosives. under the city.

KuHB1aM 23:16, 26 August 2009 (UTC) (Jump-start. Small post.)

Kaldrin was thrown off his feet as a violent explosion rocked a building down the street. As the Thunderhawk, which had now been revealed as a traitor ship, collided with a marble building, imploding and sending everyone in it's immediate vicinity off their feet. Landing on his back with a thud, Kaldrin was barely able to get back up in time as a lesser daemon of Khorne nearly fell upon him with what appeared to be a Chain Axe, the signature weapon of the World Eaters which was rarely seen outside their Legion. Bringing up Lukifitias to block the massive weapon, Kaldrin felt the daemon's weapon power down as the red, repulsive creature was downed in a hail of mini-gun fire by Old Pylori, whose massive Dreadnought form appeared along with several Golden Legionnaires down the street, who were fighting their way through the crowds of Imperial Guardsmen and cultists, whose daemon back up slaughtered without mercy. As Kaldrin staggered against some rubble and pushed himself on his feet, he nodded in helmetless respect to Old Pylori, who waved a massive mechanical fist. His power sword humming, Kaldrin observed where the dropship had crashed. Heavy black smoke poured from it's position, and nearby, a few Black Legionnaires could be seen amongst the crowd trying to escape to who knows where. Heaving himself into a fighting stance, Kaldrin drew a bolter pistol and emptied a clip into a group of cultists about to overwhelm a Steel Fist, who was being swamped by dozens of the corrupted humans. However, it only served to gain their attention. As Kaldrin holstered his bolt pistol, his sword began to flash as the cultists charged him and were hacked apart by his efficient skill.

Run4My Talk 12:58, 27 August 2009 (UTC) (Engine has been restarted. Not pulling this outta my ass, Daemonic Stature made a Chaos Lord a monstrous creature --I get that its from the old Codex, but there's no other way to represent a Chaos Lord so close to Apotheosis--)

Alistair calmly waved his hand as he stepped through the now-ruined gates of the town. A combined gesture. His Chaos Space Marines began to march on the gate, while the earth below a Steel Fist erupted beneath him, bone-crushing tendrils enveloping the unfortunate loyalist and tearing him in half. Small joy, rending the scum apart. Alistair sighed and moved on, casually burning a Golden Legionnaire to ash with a bolt of Warp Lightning. Another spike of mental pressure and the lightning arced on to another Loyalist, blasting an impressive hole in his chest. Alistair fired his Bolter in the other hand, expertly keeping the weapon under control as Inferno Bolts spat from the mutated muzzle. The Sorcerous bolt rounds tore through power armour and flak armour alike, only bouncing off the hull of a Dreadnought as the armoured sarcophagous lumbered into view. Alistair raised his sword in mock salute as he drew it. He strode towards the Dreadnought as it lumbered towards him, it's vocalizer magnifying it's warcry. Alistair smirked inside his helmet. This would not be the first or last Dreadnought he would split open. He dragged his sword along the ground, kicking up sparks on the concrete as the approached the Dreadnought, ignoring it's Assault Cannon as it wound up and began spitting death out around him. The bullets disintegrated on contact with Alistair's telekinetic shield. Sad that such an ancient warrior could be held at bay by such pathetic trappings.

Alistair ducked under a surprisingly quick strike from the Dreadnought's Power Fist, and thrust his power sword into the back of its knee. The Dreadnought spun it's upper body around, sweeping it's power fist around towards Alistair's head. Alistair ducked, then weaved away from the reverse strike, before lunging back towards the dreadnought and plunging his sword into the centre of it's sarcophagous. The beast went silent as Alistair twisted his sword and wrenched it downwards. Lucky end too, Alistair realised as the Dreadnought's power fist slumped just inched from Alistair's head. If that thing had taken a grip on him, the Hound of Chaos would have howled his last. Alistair knew all too well the crushing power of a Dreadnought's power fist. Standing on the now truly-dead Dreadnought, Alistair raised his sword and ordered the charge. His berserkers swarmed through the shattered gates, hacking anything that came within reach to pieces. The Defilers outside finally made their advance on the walls, attacking in unison, eventually tearing a breach in the walls. Alistair marched forwards, flanked by his retinue, lashing out at any foe nearby. Skewering, cleaving, slashing. Anything that came within his reach died. And then, a soul Alistair recognized in the press of bodies.

"That one is mine," Alistair snapped to his retinue. They turned to look at him in unison, somewhat confused that he would wish to be the one to dismember that youngling rather than leave the ignominious task to him. As far as they were concerned, it was degrading for a Chaos Lord of Alistair's standing to kill a whelp like that. Something similar to stepping in grox dung. Kaldrin. Alistair heard the rasping voices of the gods in his mind. Kaldrin. Alistair hissed, grasping his helmet as the voices became uncontrollable. Kaldrin. Kaldrin.

"Kaldrin! You are mine to kill!" Alistair bellowed, levelling his sword at the young Space Marine. The crowd began to clear around them as Alistair's veteran retinue began hacking enemies apart or gunning them down to make way for their lord. Alistair stalked towards Kaldrin, silhouetted by flames as the city began to burn around him. Whatever was important about Kaldrin, Alistair was prepared to take him out of the picture, either by taking him as a captive or leaving him broken by the wayside. Alistair unslung his shield and used it to block the Space Marine's first attack. Kaldrin's sword rebounded from the Storm Shield as if he had struck an adamantium wall. Alistair countered with an overconfident shield-bash. Kaldrin effortlessly avoided it, but Alistair hadn't left himself open. He exhuded charisma as he circled the younger Space Marine. It was infuriating, for Kaldrin at least. Like a cat toying with a mouse.

KuHB1aM 21:00, 27 August 2009 (UTC) (Shit. Lol, Kaldrin better not get impaled too.)

Kaldrin's sword hummed as the fighting continued in a wide circle around the pair. His eyes flittered back and forth from Old Pylori's armored corpse to that of his newest adversary, whom Kaldrin remembered from Cadia all too well. His chaos-imbued armor was just as darkened and matte black as it was before, and a menacing aura shown about him. His entire presence, to put it simply, scared the living shit out of Kaldrin. As Kaldrin's own squad engaged the fallen astarte's entourage, Kaldrin's sword wavered nervously. "I know you." Kaldrin said, his voice quavering. The darkened visor slits; the Eye of Horus on his shoulder; the very same power sword and storm shield he had seen hack apart the former Chief Librarian on Cadia. As Kaldrin backed off, he nearly tripped over the corpse of a guardsmen, barely managing to keep balance as his gaze focused on the figure which was approaching him. "I've seen you before, you know. On-on on Cadia, yes, Cadia." Kaldrin said, stuttering with his words for the first time as all of his boyish, charming confidence left his mouth. The Black Legionnaire didn't utter a single intelligible word; instead, he bellowed so loud it could have shaken Leman Russ off of his feet. Kaldrin barely had time to react as his sword slammed into his adversary's, hitting Kaldrin's weapon with such power that it might shatter in half had it been made of any other substance than adamantium. Bringing his fist to bear, Kaldrin let loose a punch that wasn't to strike his foe by cause him to duck for a single moment that Kaldrin might find an opening. The ruse failed, and as Kaldrin's fist flew, the storm shield impacted, cracking some of Kaldrin's armored gauntlet. As ceramite flew from his hand, Kaldrin was forced again to bring up his sword to block another devastating combo of his foe's strikes, barely managing to dodge and counter in several moments. Forced back, Kaldrin leapt for a pile of rubble leading up to a second story building, landing in the blown out wall as he sprinted and leapt to gain some breathing space. Panting, Kaldrin's helmetless face stared deep into his enemy. "Who are you?"

Run4My Talk 22:00, 27 August 2009 (UTC)

"Who am I? Who and what I am is not for the likes of you to ask. You can call me Alistair. For now. Soon enough, you will be calling me master.Unless of course you win this little war on this little orb of dirt, flying through the cosmos. But that is impossible. For you now anyway. All you can do, is watch. And listen to the quickening of the darkness. So, are we done with the talking? I can't abide by all this talk when I can hear the blood pumping through your veins, screaming to be realeased," Alistair rasped, his voice like a slow-moving avalanche. Not only was he a terrifying foe, but his very nature was repulsive to Kaldrin. He was an ancient, incomprehensible foe. Alistair turned away from Kaldrin for a second to cut down another Space Marine. Alistair sighed. So boring. So boring cutting these dogs down any more. For the first time in thousands of years, Alistair had felt alive attacking Kaldrin. He couldn't understand why, but he had felt that burst of vitality fighting a foe worth killing. Alistair grunted as he lashed out with his shield, the edge cutting clean through an approaching Imperial Guard Colonel. He strode up the rubble towards Kaldrin, who, to his credit, was standing in the face of what must have seemed like an unstoppable leviathan foe. As Alistair ascended to the same level of the building, it became quite clear to Kaldrin just how outmatched he was. Facing an ancient foe, who knew everything about battle that Kaldrin did and more, who towered almost two feet above Kaldrin's head and who could skewer a Dreadnought.

Kaldrin managed to stare Alistair down, the first foe in over seven millennia to do so. Alistair wondered why this dog was important in this war. Perhaps as the only foe to face him as he stood. Completely unaided. No psychic tinkering, no hallucinogenic substances. Alistair wondered why that was. Staring into the face of death. Alistair blocked an attack, casually redirecting Kaldrin's blow while kicking the younger Space Marine's legs out from under him. Kaldrin rolled and just managed to evade a follow-up swipe from Alistair's sword. Alistair sighed as he strode towards Kaldrin again. Strangely, in spite of the instinct to finish it, Alistair was interested in why Kaldrin fought on. He elbowed the youngling in the face as he tried to hit back at Alistair, intercepting the sword strike and launching Kaldrin away. Alistair sheathed his sword and slung his shield. Kaldrin attacked him again, but Alistair sidestepped. He used to teach initiates that thrust. He headbutted Kaldrin, stooping almost to a crouch and slamming his head into Kaldrin's helmetless scalp. He tossed Kaldrin backwards, crashing him through the plascrete wall behind him.

"You're beginning to bore me Kaldrin. Kick it up a gear whelp," Alistair snarled, redrawing his sword and drawing his shortsword, rather than shield. He whirled the two weapons, taunting Kaldrin with his ease of movement and how comfortable he was with the weapons.

KuHB1aM 00:29, 28 August 2009 (UTC)

His head full of throbbing pain and misery, Kaldrin leaned against a blown out wall as he struggled to regain his footing. His armor creaking and covered in dust and the blood of both friend and foe, Kaldrin shook his head as he searched for his sword, which was, unfortunately, by the one known as Alistair's armored boots. But Kaldrin was not allowed any time to think about. A quick dodging roll to the side was the only thing that saved him from another cleave from Alistair's power sword, which was humming with black chaotic energies about it, slick in bloodied guts. His hand immediately went for his bolter pistol as he landed, one knee bent on the ground in crouched position. Putting one hand underneath the handle to stabilize his aim, Kaldrin fired a full clip at his foe, who quickly slid behind some cover to absorb the rather accurate shots from which Kaldrin bought some momentary respite. Holstering the bolt pistol, Kaldrin drew his second bolt pistol as Alistair came into view, his shortsword poised to strike. How the hell can he be that fast? Kaldrin's bolt pistol came up to block the sword, which sliced the barrel clean off, rendering the weapon useless. Kaldrin then slammed the bolt pistol into Alistair's arm as he brought his other sword into view, knocking his weapon off balance. Kaldrin quickly rolled backwards as Alistair mistepped, sliding onto his feet into a fighting stance to protect his center-line as his heavy breath exhaled and inhaled over and over again. It was at this point that Kaldrin realized he was bleeding; his muscular left arm had been bloodied when he had simply touched Alistair's spiky ceramite. Blood dripped in an un-geometric stripe down his armored forearm. Pain shot out from it, and as Kaldrin relaxed his wounded arm to ease up a bit of the pain and let the wound seal itself, his other arm still protected his center. Sending Alistair the middle finger, Kaldrin smiled grimly with a bitter sense of humor. "I thought you would have stopped playing by now, traitor. Why the hesitation?" Kaldrin asked, coughing up some blood.

Run4My Talk 01:13, 28 August 2009 (UTC)

"My reasons are nothing you would understand child," Alistair responded, shrugging off Kaldrin's taunt as he rotated his swords in his hands. He shighed, shook his head and sheathed his shortsword. "You want me to give it both barrels? So be it."

Alistair gripped his longsword in two hands and stepped towards Kaldrin, feinting left, rotating his sword upwards and striking at Kaldrin's right. Kaldrin twisted awkwardly to get his freshly-recovered sword between Alistair's and his head. Kaldrin went to fire his Bolt Pistol into Alistair's chest or head, it was too close to gauge where the youngling was truly aiming, but to err on the side of caution, Alistair stepped through and knee kicked Kaldrin, throwing him off-balance. Alistair followed through with an overhand swing that nearly cut Kaldrin in half from head to groin. Kaldrin, rather than dodging, kicked bakwards through the door Alistair had backed him up to and diving back through it. ''Impressive. Did not see that coming''. Alistair followed along, spinning his sword through his grip, striking from an angle Kaldrin hadn't expected. The youngling misstepped as Alistair followed up with a front sweep that knocked him off-balance. He recovered impressively by spinning on his heel and thrusting at Alistair, who just parried, whirled outside Kaldrin's guard and struck down and backwards with his elbow, catching Kaldrin on the back of the head and staggering him. To add insult to concussion-inducing injury, Alistair followed up with a boot to Kaldrin's backside. Infuriated, Kaldrin spun and lashed out. Alistair flat-out blocked instead of parrying. Kaldrin's arm numbed at the impact and he nearly lost his grip on his sword. With a sneer, Alistair stepped through, keeping pressure on Kaldrin's blade to stop him from moving it for fear of blocking Alistair's blade with his face.

Step taken, Alistair kicked again, sending Kaldrin reeling. Alistair cartwheeled his sword, bringing it up under Kaldrin's guard, but Kaldrin rolled to the side. Like Alistair might have when he was young like this one. Alistair spun through and kicked Kaldrin away with his well-practiced spinning sidekick. Kaldrin rolled to his feet, winded. Alistair stopped for a second as he felt a pain in his chest. A single bolt round had scraped his chest just under his arm. Thankfully, it hadn't detonated inside his chestplate. Kraken rounds. Kaldrin was the first foe to make Alistair bleed since the Heresy. Alistair snarled like an enraged Daemon and strode towards Kaldrin, who had raised his bolt pistol again. With a casual wave of his hand, Alistair telekinetically launched the pistol away. Alistair smiled at the look of fear-laced disgust on Kaldrin's face as he realized his foe was a psyker.

"Not just a psyker Kaldrin. Alpha. I can do things you wouldn't believe with nothing more than a thought," Alistair rasped as he advanced, reversing his grip on his sword and making an undercut strike straight at Kaldrin's chest. As Kaldrin blocked, Alistair switched his grip again, striking to the left. He quickly shifted his grip, spinning the sword over his head and bringing it around right. Fancier swordwork than Kaldrin had ever seen. More finessed than Kaldrin had ever heard of. Always attacking, so quickly Kaldrin barely had time to form a defence, much less a counter-attack. Alistair then unslung his shield again and swung it at Kaldrin's head. He returned to his familiar whirling slashing and swinging style, using the shield as much as a weapon as a defence tool. Every couter-swing Kaldrin made was knocked aside by Alistair's shield or sword. Kaldrin was barely able to defend, tripping over his own feet in the face of such unbridled aggression. And still, Alistair was holding back. Openings a blind man would have been able to take advantage of were ignored. Then Alistair grew utterly bored with the situation. He stepped through and swung his shield in a wide arc, driving the great disk-shaped shield up into Kaldrin's gut and chest, lifting and launching him down the rubble slope the two had entered the building by. Alistair sighed and strode down after the Space marine, loosely holding his longsword as he approached the stunned and staggered Space Marine.

"You are a sore disappointment for the first foe to draw my blood in ten thousand years Kaldrin," Alistair called as Kaldrin tried to ascertain which way was up. His larraman cells had stemmed the blood flow from his mouth and arm, and his body was running on pure adrenaline after being launched by a nine foot tall Chaos-fuelled powerhouse.

KuHB1aM 01:52, 28 August 2009 (UTC) (Hey, I want Alistair to kill Ferox. I'm contemplating whether or not Kaldrin should fall from grace or grow stronger in his imperial faith. Sorry for the mediocre posts; i'm a bit tired right now.)

"Well, I wasn't planning on fighting a steroid fueled traitor brother hopped up on chaotic energies today." Kaldrin said, his body pumping adrenaline and new life into him. As his hand's feeling returned to him, Kaldrin couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed with such a foe. Sure, Kaldrin was a fine swordsman, but a rather intimidating traitor-marine with 10,000 years of experience wasn't quite exactly his ideal opponent. Twirling his sword back and forth in an cross-arcing pattern, Kaldrin wiped away what was left of the caked blood on his face. Still on his toes, Kaldrin waited for Alistair to make a move. He definitely wasn't in any position to stage an offensive series against one of his most powerful opponents to date. As Alistair prepared for another offensive, Kaldrin readied his sword and lunged.

Ferox Baldur watched from his Thunderhawk as the battle raged in the distance. Reports had only started reaching the capital that the enemy had taken the entire strike force, a massive army by any standard, completely by surprise. The entire valley city was burning with bright lights, and the sky was bright red and scarlet. Ferox could feel Kaldrin's presence out in the town; he could also tell simply by instinct that Kaldrin had probably gotten himself into trouble once again. As the Thunderhawk began to rotate and hover over the city, Ferox stepped onto the ramp as it opened in flight, watching the carnage below. However, his eyes centered on what appeared to be a titanic battle that was taking place, with friendly and enemy forces fighting around it's quite clear radius circle. A single, battered Golden Legionnaire was standing on one end; a confident Black Legionnaire a bit taller than Ferox coursing with energy on the other side of the rubble. "Stop the gunship, pilot." Ferox said with authority, drawing his power sword quickly.

Dark Seer (Sorry for horribel spelling, as in worse than usuall, on a PC not my lovley mac, if someone could fix it up i would appreciate it)

Savarl looked out from the alleyway and shook is head, this was horribel. Alistairs forces were here and all he had done was destroy the AA gubns. this was perfect, however, hecould re arm those bombs he had set under the city, he would be there quickly with the jump packs from the thunder hawk. Savark was about to turn back to Farus when he saw two figures fighting but twenty meters away, one was of the golden space marine chapter and the other was a ten foot all killing machine: Alistair. he looked how the battle was going. The golden marine was F***ed as far as Savark was concerened. then out of the corner of his eye he saw another golden marine, running towards alister from behiind, he doubted even Al could survive a chainsaw in the back of the head. "Farus"

Savark said "For the gods of chaos and our miserable bloddy lives, we will redeam ourslevs in the eyes of our gods!" Savark slammed his fist on the activation Rune, the pack roaring to life, "The hound will have his fill, the chosen will have his power and the gods will have their blood, but I will have my vengance! I will have all that is within my reach! NONE SHALL LIVE" Savark blasted through the air, deying the laws of physics, such was his blood lust that time around him began to slow, he could feel every blood cell, every platlete, every small atom, then time sped back up. he slammed into the marine with such force that he was knocked of his feet, "HELLO!" Savark screamed "TODAY YOU AND YOUR BROTHER DIE!" Savark gripped the marines right arm and ripped it off, "but know, i need your grenades" he tore the marines ammo dispenser from his waist. "Thank you, also if you would be so kind as to send a message to terra, Savark is back, and he wants his blood back" he said and jumped back several meteres. now for the fire works.

Run4My Talk (Time to make Kaldrin poke out his mind's eye)

Alistair sidestepped as Kaldrin thrust at his chest. He grabbed Kaldrin's wrist and kicked his feet out from under him. While Kaldrin was half-way to the ground, Alistair tossed him, launching him into the air and through what must have once been a toolshed, judging by the jarringly comical series of noises the little wooden shack produced as the battered Space Marine crashed through it. Alistair chuckled and then turned to see how Savark was doing with the older Space Marine. Alistair was a little annoyed that he hadn't been able to skin the fool alive with a little bit of psychic flair, but it was amusing to watch him squirm as Savark dug his power fist into the stump of the Loyalist dog's arm. Alistair glanced over his shoulder and spotted Kaldrin digging himself out from under a heap of skis and shattered shelving in the wreckage of the shed. Too far to do any good, but Alistair decided to err on the side of caution. He signalled to Hadrius to pin the boy as he strode over towards this other Space Marine. A little mental invasion revealed his name to be Ferrox Baldur, one of the oldest living Golden Legionnaires. Hadrius grabbed the exhausted Kaldrin in a brutal bearhug, pinning his arms in his hissing lightning claws. One move and the youngling would dismember himself. Savark shuffled a little as Alistair approached. Then he looked a little confused as Alistair grabbed Ferrox's left leg and lifted the Space Marine.

"Make a wish Savark!" Alistair roared, turning the Space Marine in the air so Kaldrin could see as he offered Ferrox's right leg to Savark's power fisted hand, like a wishbone. With a look of savage glee on his face, Savark took a hold of the flailing limb and pulled as Alistair heaved the left leg the other way. Ferrox winced, groaned and growled. Never screamed. Impressive. Until with a dramatic crack, both of the venerable Loyalist's legs tore off, leaving his body on the ground, with just his left arm to drag himself hopelessly away from the two Chaos Lords, who were now laughing uncontrollably. Hadrius, being the magnificent bastard he was, had altered his grip and forced Kaldrin to watch. Pathetically, but defiantly, Ferrox was dragging himself towards Kaldrin with his one remaining limb. Alistair walked slowly along, just behind him, until Ferrox was less than five feet away from Kaldrin.

"Kaldrin . . ." Ferrox gasped. He was cut off when Alistair planted his boot between his shoulder blades and thrust his sword down into the base of Ferrox's neck. Rage lent Kaldrin strength as he kicked backwards into Hadrius' shin and slammed his head back into the ancient warrior's face, staggering him. Alistair waved Hadrius away as Kaldrin screamed bloody revenge and launched himself at Alistair. The massive Chaos Lord sidestepped the wild lunge and slammed his knee up into Kaldrin's chest, flinging the youngling back into a heap on the ground. Kaldrin rolled onto his back, his vision clouding, the ceramite of his chestplate cracked, a testament to Alistair's prodigious strength. Before he could even catch his breath, Alistair had taken a short running start and kicked Kaldrin in the ribs, cracking away the ablative ceramite armour laid over his chestplate. As Kaldrin curled up reflexively, he brought his head within range of Alistair's backhand, which nearly took his head off. Alistair lifted Kaldrin from the ground and punched him twice in the sides, the brutal impacts bruising the young Space Marine's kidneys through his armour. As he dropped Kaldrin, he slammed his elbow into the centre of Kaldrin's chest, staggering him. Eventually Kaldrin fell back to the ground. He forced himself to his feet, brandishing his sword weakly at the Chaos Lord in front of him. The four Chaos Lords? Two? Five? Three? Kaldrin shook his head to clear it, finally settling his gaze weakly on Alistair in front of him.

Alistair then administered his party trick. He whirled his sword upwards, then cartwheeled it downwards, knocking Kaldrin's sword from his grasp and spinning it in the air. Alistair caught it by the hilt, pointing it straight at Kaldrin's throat. In the hands of the monstrous Chaos Lord, the blade was nothing more than a large knife. Alistair grinned inside his helmet, running his tongue over his razor sharp teeth. Two quick jabs from the Loyalist's sword later and Kaldrin was laying on the ground, a scar below each sideburn. Alistair whirled Kaldrin's sword in his hand and stabbed it downwards, sliding it through Kaldrin's chestplate, narrowly avoiding impaling the young warrior. Alistair had taken advantage of that gap between armour and warrior in hundreds of duels. People found it humiliating that a foe could beat them without killing them. Of course, in the Eye, Alistair just pinned opponents to some nearby geographical feature and executed them while they were incapacitated. Alistair looked down at Kaldrin's prone form.

"Next time we meet, and we will, the Gods have told me so, I will kill you, Kaldrin of the Golden Legion. You are a disgrace to that Dorn's legacy, a fool and a degenerate though he was. You are a disgrace to the legacy of the Space Marines. You spit licking dog. I will kill you and devour your eternal soul, for that is the fate of those who oppose me," Alistair snarled at Kaldrin, as the battle raged around them and Kaldrin began to slip out of consciousness. Alistair abandoned him for dead, pinned by his own sword, waving for Hadrius and Savark to fall in behind him as he went. There was work to be done yet.

Vegas adict 20:46, 30 August 2009 (UTC)Sorry about not posting for a while i was on holiday again.

Lisendo managed to finaly put his helmet and losened his plasma pistol and power sword in there holsters before making his way to his land raider.The steel fists didn't do rapid airborn assualts like most chapters instead they rapidly deployed there armoured forces before launching attacks in their land raiders and rhinos/razorbacks.Now that the 10th were set up around the capital the 9th were about to launch an armoured assualt towards the chaos forces.

By the time they arived though the battle was allready over."Get out and try to find survivors"lisendo said.He jumped out of the land raider and started serching across the battlefield his HUD was being overloaded with datafeeds so he ripped of his helmet and searched the ground manualy."Hey" cried out one of the men."This ones alive".Lisendo ran across the field to the man and recognised the battered form of Kaldrin of the golden legion."Pick him up and take him back".Apocatheries lifted the battered form of Kaldrin on to the land raider just before it started to move back towards the steel fist camp.

KuHB1aM 01:29, September 2, 2009 (UTC) (Quick post. Sorry again; just don't feel like writing)

Kaldrin's entire head shook with pain and agony as he awoke in the back of the Land Raider, which was already speeding off from the burning Imperial base, which was still alight with the imperial stragglers and the triumphant chaos forces. Kaldrin's head was already pushing himself to envision the outside, even as the Imperials retreated in his direction while the rest of the Steel Fists moved to engage the enemy troops. "Gaaaahhh!" Kaldrin screamed, his heart rate pulsing wildly as apothecaries worked on his body, with two Steel Fists and another wounded Legionnaire struggling to hold him down. His entire mind was flashing with the image of his mentor being torn apart as he had tried to come to his aide, and anger fueled his weak state as he remembered Alistair's taunts and mocking him. "Let me go!" Kaldrin roared, still strapped down inside the armored personnel carrier. His eyes and hearing faded in and out constantly as he neared blacking out over and over again. The entire Land Raider shook with intensity as Kaldrin resisted the attempts of the Steel Fist apothecaries to work on him, and he could feel their sympathy and frustration in trying to help him in his battered, defeated state. Even as Kaldrin raged, his body failed to produce almost any strength, with his entire body having been drained. His armor was battered and bruised, a husk of it's former golden hue, and his tanned skin was caked in blood and grime all over, with skin showing where armor had broken or been shattered by the chaos lord. Finally, edging on complete unconsciousness, Kaldrin resigned to his fate of not being able to return to the field, his tensed body relaxing. Little did he know that, in his sustained rage, he had nearly given a concussion to another astartes, and bruised two other un-helmeted others, who had now sustained broken noses.

Run4My Talk Yes, Alistair is turning the occupation of being a bastard into a competetive sport.

Alistair stopped, his face twitching inside his helmet. Behind the black, emotionless helm, his face twisted into a raging snarl as his victorious forces were suddenly assaulted by a small armoured column of Steel Fists. Alistair's fists clenched at his sides as he stood up straight and nodded agitatedly. Taking a single, calming breath, Alistair turned towards the oncoming troops in their tincan APCs. With a snarl, which gradually build into an enraged bellow, he strode back into the fray. A squad of Scouts were the first to feel his wrath. He casually waved his hands and unleashed a cloud of daemonic beetles on the fools. He preferred using that particular form of that power to the Nurgle variant, a stream of filth that involved literally vomiting forth a stream of bile and daemonic power. The Slaaneshii variant was too flashy, a cloud of rapidly changing colours that burned every nerve ending in the foe's body to nothing. He liked his Daemonic Scarabs. The way they stripped enemies to bare skeletons in seconds was almost as entertaining as hearing the foe's death screams. Alistair and his retinue then collided with a tactical squad. With laughs of sadistic glee, the Chaos veterans laid about themselves with their power weapons and power fists, melee weapons rising and falling in great bloody arcs that splattered everything nearby with gore and viscera. Just as Alistair lifted the struggling Veteran Sergeant by the neck. He noticed the Loyalist's bionic limbs and eye and cocked his head sideways for a second, overcome with cruel curiosity.

"Does this hurt?" Alistair asked absently as he reached up and ripped the Space Marine's ocular implant free. Judging by the screaming and thrashing, so violent that Alistair almost lost his grip on the Loyalist dog, it hurt a great deal. Alistair sighed. One of his long life's many questions answered. But then, that wasn't a definitive test. After all, he had torn an implant from the scum's head. "Good, good. That will be going in my memoirs whenever I figure out how to spell it. What about this?"

Alistair clenched his free hand around the Space Marine's thrashing and flailing bionic arm as the Space Marine desperately tried to extricate himself from the Hound's grasp. Slowly crushing the steel and adamantium fibre-bunch structure, Alistair observed the Loyalist's reaction. No discomfort. Until Alistair twisted and damaged the MIU and Neural Interface. Then the Space Marine began to show signs of pain as the bionic fed the damage back into the Space Marine's already tortured nervous system. Alistair sighed, his experiment finished and dropped the Space Marine to the ground. As the Steel Fist attempted to rise, Alistair grabbed his head and started to force his thumb into the now screaming Space Marine's eye. Rather than taking the more effective option of kicking at Alistair, the Space Marine desperately tried to push the monstrous Chaos Lord's hand away from his head. Blood began to seep down the Space Marine's face as Alistair started to move his thumb around in the unfortunate Loyalist's eye socket. Torture over, Alistair calmly and casually snapped the weakened, wounded and utterly defenceless Loyalist's neck. Turning from the corpse, Alistair sighed, denied new victims by the Steel Fist's fighting retreat. It was merely a rescue operation to get those damned Golden Legionnaires out of the city. Alistair sighed and turned back to his troops as they burned the buildings that remained standing and charged around tearing chunks out of anything that came within reach, like insane children in a twisted celebration, they ripped limbs from their fallen foes and either began to devour them or stow them for later use in rituals.

Solbur 08:25, September 3, 2009 (UTC)

A group of fallen Golden Legionnaires and Steel Fists alike were crawling along the ground, homing in on one location, it seemed. They were mumbling to one another, as though they were trying to formulate a plan. Watching them search through their equipment and that of the dead, Hadrius chuckled and closed his eyes. ''Pain. Fear.'' His mind's eye annotated as he took deep, steady breaths through his helmet's respirator, savouring their anguish. They didn't even know they were being watched. Hadrius grinned as he clapped Stavin, one of his so-called Enders on the shoulder, spurring him on to give a rumbling cackle as he hoisted his Heavy Bolter and fed the wounded Loyalists a strafing burst of fire, putting half of them out of their misery prematurely and successfully scaring the hell out of the rest of them. With a tip of his head, he signalled the rest of his squad to move in with him at the forefront.

The first one Hadrius reached, one who had already lost an arm in the battle past and was being kept alive only by his Lamarran cells, slowly raised his Bolt Pistol. Hadrius saw it coming from a mile away, almost literally. He sent his boot out to meet the gun as it was still being lifted and knocked it a good few metres away, before, in the same fluid motion, he pinned the Legionnaire's remaining arm under his foot and gave a mocking laugh. His golden armour was splattered with blood and blackened with weapons fire, Hadrius noted with glee. Best of all, his helmet seemed to be missing. The marine writhed and twisted beneath him, kicking his legs helplessly, hissing what was either a curse to his attacker's name or a litany. Hadrius paused to examine him. ''Horror. Agony.'' The ancient Traitor Marine gave what sounded conspicuously like a moan of satisfaction as he took note of that, before drawing back his Lightning Claws.

''Devotion... defiance?''

Hadrius would allow the Imperial dog no such thing. His fists shot forwards and the blades forced through the Marine's battered armour and Black Carapace, sinking deep into his chest. He hesitated to sample what was going through the Marine's head now. Either heart had been punctured. ''Hate. Pain. Submission. Defeat.'' The mere presence of the Claws' power fields seemed to be rattling his armour apart, a web of cracks spreading out around each blade. He could only imagine what it was doing to his insides. Hadrius glared at him through the blackened eyepieces of his helmet before he spoke. "Fear not, Brother-Marine," the gargantuan brute snarled, his voice dripping with chastising mockery, "for your death is not in vain. Indeed - no death truly is."

Like the lightning that gave his weapons their name, Hadrius drew his claws apart, the matter-disruptive blades carving neat paths out of the body. They tore through the rest of his chest with ease, finding their exits through his shoulder-pieces. The movement severed his remaining arm nicely off, and Hadrius took the liberty to crush his wrist under his boot before he split the marine's head into three segments with a swipe of his claw, terror and pain immortalised on his butchered face if one was to reassemble it. Of course, that was never going to happen. Hadrius chuckled again as he retracted his claws and began to sift through the mangled bodies alongside the rest of his squad for any more left alive and anything of use.

(Yeah, both of my posts so far in this RP have consisted of just killing survivors and what have you. Aren't I original?)

KuHB1aM 23:29, September 3, 2009 (UTC) (lol. Anyway, Kaldrin's kind unconscious right now. I switch to the Hiro to keep this going until Act 3. Then Kaldrin hopefully wakes up. Please don't kill him off. But here's something for you to fight.)

Captain Hiro's bloodied armor only got bloodier as he slammed his power sword into the breast-plate of the Black Legionnaire, driving the blade home through the armor breach, causing blood to spurt everywhere as Hiro pulled back the blade as quickly as it had entered. The Black Legionnaire was about to mutter something when Hiro fired his GL-1 Bolter into the traitor marine's unprotected, disgusting head, ending his pathetic existence. As he turned his mind away from his kill, his gaze shifted from the Golden Legion's shrinking perimeter on the small, corpse-filled and covered hill to the Steel Fist relief force fighting far in the distance. So now they come. Then his gaze shifted to the forces gathering around the rapidly besieged position. The situation was obviously desperate; that much, Hiro could tell. The Golden Legion had massive gaps in it's line, and daemons were already charging up the hill again to smash away at the small defense. This will not be the way it will end. "For the Golden Throne Immobile! Death to Khorne and the Daemon Spawn!" Hiro screamed at the top of his lungs, waving his power sword again. A response from the remaining Legionnaires came in such a loud chorus it might wake the Lion from his eternal sleep. Morale spiked for a split second as loyal astartes knew that hymn. It was also a call for swords to be drawn if they hadn't been already. Shortswords, power swords, chain swords, and all manners of energy staves came into view as the Golden Legion completely ditched fire-arms and went ape-shit on the attacking forces. Eyeing his next foe, Hiro drew his blade up high as he completely cleaved off the daemon's head, completely crashing through it's hellblade and separating head from neck.

Run4My Talk

Alistair snarled, staring at the small hill, where a group of Golden Legionnaires were staring down a force of Black Legionnaires. Alistair gorlwed this time as he stared at his troops marching on the Loyalists from a downhill position. He waved his arm at them and pointed up towards an open area on the slope. ''Flank them you cretins! Take the high ground or I'll burn you all alive!'' Alistair roared telepathically at them all. He snarled as he led his retinue towards the higher end of the slope, preparing to charge down on the surrounded dogs in their gold armour. Not that the gold armour would protect them. He heard their Captain roar some battlecry about death to Khorne. Alistair sneered. Killing a Chaos God? That was about as likely as galactic peace with Orks. Alistair couldn't suppress his laugh. He strode towards the Golden Legion positions, fire deflecting from his Daemonic Aura and armour. Hurling lightning from his fingertips, then hurled a large gout of black fire from his hand, reducing a pair of Legionnaires to a black, oily slick over thr ground. Alistair then decided to call up the pathetic captain on his claims of death to Daemonspawn and Khorne. In fact, wishing death on the Blood God only strengthened him. It was a laughable circular statement. The more Alistair thought about it, the more hilarious it became. And at the same time, the more he wanted to strangle this fool. Alistair could feel himself devolving in the presence of such overwhelming, unbelievable ridiculous stupidity. The fool dog child could barely be intelligent enough to function.

"Fool. Weak, ignorant fool. You dare wish death on the God of Rage, Hate, Blood and Violence? You strengthen him with your doggerel. Crawl on your belly, beg for your life and I might kill you quickly," Alistair roared as he struck a Golden Legionnaire's head from his shoulders. "Go on, beg, scream, cry. It is all you petty cowards are worth. You are a disgrace to even that scum Dorn."

Alistair strode towards Captain Hiro, flexing his fingers around the hilt of his sword. He unslung his shield as he stalked through the combat. He lashed out, breaking a Golden Legionnaire's back with a shield bash. He then impaled another one, laughing as he ripped his sword upwards, flinging the shorn body away. Hiro looked over at the giant Chaos Lord, staring into his helmeted face. Alistair levelled his sword at Hiro, an obvious challenge. If he accepted, Alistair would kill him and break the spirit of his men. If he declined, his own cowardice would break the spirit of his men. It was a win-win situation.

"Walk on the edge, pup. The more you risk, the more alive you will be. Imagine fighting for your life for once, fighting a foe who can fight back. No more cultists or mutants. A true foe. Are you a Space Marine, or a common playground thug?" Alistair taunted as he stalked towards Hiro.

KuHB1aM 00:30, September 4, 2009 (UTC) '''(asshole! :) hmm... technically, this battle is impossible because you have an Iron Halo, but we'll write on anyway)'''

"I am a son of the Emperor, nothing more, nothing less." Hiro said, raising his own, blood-spattered sword. "You, on the other hand, are nothing more than a daemonic play-thing. My death will mean nothing here; we are legion in faith, scum. Your skill in battle does not quite have the same effect on our chapter as it does the more common, degenerate space marines you are used to fighting." Hiro said, sword still in hand. His words were quite bold; Hiro knew what fear smelled like, but it did not control him, nor did it control any loyal Legionnaire. Hiro immediately went on the defensive as Alistair went to work with his blade and shield. Hiro's goal now was not to actually attempt to fight Alistair; it was to prevent his action elsewhere. Hiro was expendable and thus not a deciding force in battle; Alistair was. Without him, the Steel Fists would be on even keel with the Black Legionnaires, and the daemons and cultists would lose their resolve fairly quickly, along with their numbers. Hiro's blade quickly parried two lightning strikes as Alistair whirled, bringing his storm shield to bear. As the massive object swung into place, Hiro dropped down on his chest, letting the shield's momentum temporarily throw Alistair off balance. Hiro shot back up just in time to avoid Alistair's sword digging into the ground, where it clashed with the dirt where Hiro had been seconds before. Recovering in a quick fighting stance, Hiro let loose a trio of bolt-pistol shots, two of which chipped Alistair's armor from the front breastplate as he lost concentration for a split-second. Ceramite sheared away from Alistair's front as he brought his shield forward, bellowing, and bull-rushed Hiro, sending the pistol flying. The resulting tackle sent Hiro's terminator armored hulk flying into a Black Legionnaire with such force that the traitor marine's midsection gave way and cracked his armor. Subsequent shots from a Golden Legion sniper brought down the traitor marine while he was grounded, and once again Hiro was on his feet, blade whirling as he turned to face the chaos lord once again.

Run4My Talk '''Unless we go through the whole fight at "arm's length" (spears etc. are the only really effective weapons at that range), an Iron Halo won't have much effect. I prefer to grade RP-style stuff by Inquisitor's system, rather than 40k's. Allows for more detail. Including melta-shots to the groin!'''

Alistair sighed. More of this "Son of the Emperor" dogma. He whirled his sword as he circled Hiro. He knew Hiro was only trying to keep Alistair from fighting elsewhere. But Alistair's sense of martial honour barred him from denying an enemy combat once a duel began. So Alistair compromised. He telekinetically launched Hiro backwards into his troops, crushing two Legionnaires to death with the Terminator Armoured fool. Alistair chuckled, then launched Hiro backwards again, knocking a Librarian off-balance. That one dog in his psychic hood was the only thing keeping dozens of Daemons at bay. At that quick break in concentration, the line staggered and a dozen Bloodletters charged up the hill. For a second, just a second, it looked like the line might hold, against all odds, that Imperial Steel would hold off the Hellblades of Khorne. Until the four Bloodcrushers rushed up the hill to join their infantry brethren. Alistair smiled. He was a lot more versatile than this blunt thought. And the blunt was more resourceful than Alistair thought, as he grabbed a fallen Legionnaire's sword and flung it at Alistair, nearly catching him off-guard. Alistair caught the sword, this not being the first time someone had used an unusual throwing weapon on him and grounded the weapon in front of him.

"Come on, you can do better than that! Do all you Golden Retreivers bark too much and bite with your gums?" Alistair shouted at Hiro, laughing as he finished the sentence. He didn't find it funny, but he was relying on enraging this fool and splitting him open in front of his troops. As Hiro prepared to respond, Alistair hawked and spat a mothful of acid agitated from his Betchers Gland into Hiro's face. The Loyalist staggered back, pulling his helmet off desperately as the corrosive poison began to eat away rapidly at the ceramite and adamantium helm. "See, that's what makes you the degenerate Space Marine. Dorn passed his shortcomings on to you. His weakness lives vicariously through you. And your blood is diluted. I dread to think how inferior your descendants will be. It might even make violence . . . pointless."

KuHB1aM 01:49, September 4, 2009 (UTC)

"For a daemon-infested, disgusting traitor marine, I would expect more fight and less talk from you, fallen." Hiro said, bringing his sword back up to bear. Around him, the two dozen or so Golden Legionnaires still fighting were hard-pressed to hold their hard-held piece of real-estate. "Dorn's shortcomings were few, but never the less present. But even he wasn't as foolish as your dumb brute Horus and his dipshit follower Abbadon to even think of betraying the Emperor; their own faults are legion in number. Tell me, traitor marine, how does it feel to know that those of Dorn's lineage will have a place in history while you will simply fade away into our historical annals? Maybe you'll get lucky and have a cross-reference to some back-water battle where you were crushed utterly by the loyalists your fighting right now." Hiro said, his blade still tight in his grip. A heavy bolter sounded as a Golden Legionnaire targeted Alistair as simply another jumped up traitor marine. The chorus of the heavy-weapon sounded as Alistair was unable to retort, using his shield to hold back the massive torrent of fire. At this point, Hiro lunged forward, forcing Alistair to split his attention between the heavy bolter and Hiro's blade. Only the last minute intervention of Alistair's other arm stopped his being headless. Recoiling, Hiro fired the GL-1 Bolter he picked from the ground, unloading a clip into Alistair's frontal breastplate, which, infused with chaotic energy, refused to give way, although still be sheared by constant fire.

Run4My Talk

"You speak so low of my Brothers and I. You speak so highly of Dorn's 'few' shortcomings. You never knew him. I walked in his shadow, I spoke with him! Your Dorn is an illusion. You know nothing. You saw nothing but a portrait of a man who died for a planet you will never see. You are weak not to question. Never to ask what Dorn really was. Although the only answer you would get is 'a great man'. Listen more closely. Man. Human. Dorn was as weak and as flawed as you and I. He had his doubts. He had his flaws, his impurities. But he blindly buried them. Did not even address them. They festered. And you never wondered why he fought on in the Iron Cage. Never wondered why he so blindly fought the Iron Warriors. Hubris. Jealousy. Yes, jealousy. Dorn the Pure, Dorn the Strong, was a jealous, petty man. A man, no more no less. With a man's weaknesses. You think I lie when I say this. I saw all of this first hand. He fought so hard not out of hate because we were corrupt. He was the corrupt one. He fought with such hate because we were, and still are, free in every way he was not. So spit your lies about my fate. Terra's Bell will not ring for your passing. It never rings. Not any more. The last time that bell rang was when your Carrion God murdered the Warmaster. Spit your lies about Horus and Abaddon. You have never seen them. Call me a corrupt monster, say all you want about history abandoning me to my fate for my so-called Heresies. But I am the lesser evil out of us two. I acknowledge my shadow. I do not fear the Dark. And you only fear the Dark because you have not seen what the Light is capable of," Alistair snarled, as he deflected Captain Hiro's next attack and sheathed his sword, Hiro attacked again. Alistair gripped his Storm Shield in both hands and hit Hiro with it, sending him reeling. "Now, to educate you in the damage the Light can cause." Alistair slung his shield and fired great arcing streams of lightning from his hands while he telekinetically lifted Hiro from the ground. "So, you call me a Heretic because I kill your people in the name of thirsting Gods and sacrifice them to those Gods. I sold my soul to Chaos ten thousand years ago. What's your excuse for killing billions of your people and using their souls to feed your False Emperor?"

Alistair let Hiro fall, staring at the ground after that little session of electrical torture and psychological torture. He drew his longsword and Storm Shield, looking down at Hiro as he tried to collect his thoughts on the ground there.

"The time for talking is over spitlick. Get up and die like a dog," Alistair snarled and levelled his blade at Hiro. When the Space Marine was slow to rise, Alistair reached out with his mind and rammed a spike of pure darkness into the brain of a Golden Legionnaire. The Librarian nearby started twitching. Alistair began to break down the psyker's mental defences, playing with his sanity. Eventually, the Librarian fell to his knees, blood dripping from his eyes before he dramatically reared up and lunged down, beating his own head against a chunk of shattered masonry until his reinforced skull yielded and split open in an obscene and vaguely floral pattern on the ground. Alistair smirked inside his helmet. Then, back to his serious agitating of Hiro, he reached out with his mind again and felt the heartbeat of another Legionnaire. With a little psychic pressure, Alistair quickened and heated it. He felt the Space Marine fall, his heart rupturing as an aneurism wracked his brain. Alistair chuckled. Hiro finally looked angry. And if he got angry, he would make a mistake. And then, it was only a matter of putting him down like the dog he was.

KuHB1aM 13:42, September 4, 2009 (UTC) (going to travel for a couple of days, this will be one of my last posts for now, will post again if i have time. sorry for the short, gonna line up hiro's escape)

"Say what you will." Hiro said, as calm as any astartes could possibly be. "I am a soldier, nothing more, nothing less." Hiro said, and struck again. His sword made sharp pings as the blows connected with Alistair's blade, dragging the duel along. However, before Alistair could respond with his own attack, a massive canon shot sent them both off their feet as a massive column of Land Raiders and Leman Russ tanks, drawing fire from all sides plowed forward through the melee between the original survivors of the surprise attack and the daemons and their cultist support. Hiro barely managed to get aware before Alistair was upon him again, his disgusting face caked in grime and dirt. The blade slammed down again and again as Hiro blocked each hit with his sword arm's blade, finally rolling to the side as a Land Raider targeted Alistair, opening fire with two storm bolters while the other weapons covered other targets. Alistair was caught in a torrent of fire as his shield threatened to buckle as another storm bolter and bolter fire from Steel Fists on foot slammed into his armored bulk, threatening to force him to retreat. Still recovering from his debacle, Hiro paused to help up a Golden Legionnaire, handing the astartes his shortsword and bolt-pistol. Of course, Hiro immedately reclaimed the weapons as Alistair, still in concentration, sent a pure spike of dark energy, slamming through the Legionnaire's shoulder and pinning him to a wall of rubble. Still alive, Hiro told him he'd be back for him, and brought his sword to bear again as the Land Raider pummeled Alistair.

Vegas adict 17:18, September 4, 2009 (UTC)

Lisendo jumped from the side door of his land raider his combi-Bolter spraying blue bolts of plasma and grey bolts of lead into the chaos scum.As the bolter clicked to empty lisendo drew his sword its green energies flaired into life like the sword knew what he was thinking.Actualy considering how long the sword had been in the warp it probably did know.But the librarians had declared it clean of taint.He sliced a traitors arm off and finished the marine with a thrust through the hole where the arm was severing the marines spinal cord before choping off his head.

Lisendo rushed towards a chaos warior who apeared to be a chosen sergant.Lisendo swang his blade towards the sergant who caught the blade in his lightning claws.Lisendo swore under his breath and shouved the plasma part of his combi under the sergants arm and prepared to fire.

Solbur 21:15, September 4, 2009 (UTC) (More drawn-out post than what may be neccessary, but hey, why not.)

Hadrius had led his Enders up onto higher ground in preparation to flank the Golden Legion swordsman and any reinforcements, as per Alistair's command. At first he had been content with merely spectating the battle, as had near enough every single Chaos Marine involved, apparently. Attempting to probe inside the minds of the two fighters was a bit... one-sided, so to speak. Of course, this was to be expected - he could get a clear look in the Hiro fellow, and it was the same old "duty, honour, faith" bollocks that were consistent psychological characteristics of a Space Marine who isn't belittled or severely injured in some way. And, although he would have liked to have a look inside Alistair's mind during the fight, he would decidedly not have liked the psychic backlash that would have came with such an attempt. Hadrius prided himself in keeping his mind intact and brains inside his skull.

Things got considerably more interesting as a massive convoy of Imperial vehicles, mainly Steel Fists Land Raiders and some assorted Guard Russes rolled up to the battle. The assorted Traitor Marines quickly scrambled to mount an offensive. The Marine nearest to Hadrius (well, apart from the Enders - they were almost always near him), one of Savark's lot, unsurprisingly, was preparing to throw a Melta Bomb at one of the Land Raiders. Throw a Melta Bomb. Hadrius couldn't help but wonder how much experience the soldier had. Without even sparing him a complimentary poke around inside his skull, Hadrius snatched the explosive from the Marine's grip. "Give me that," he hissed, earning a few grunts and snarled threats from the Marine and his comrades and laughs and jeers from the Enders. Hadrius, for once, ignored such things. The way he was holding the bomb (indeed, how he had to hold it) meant his claws would erode its casing soon enough, so he had to be quick about this.

Taking a few steps backwards, Hadrius did a running leap off the elevated ground he and the other Marines had taken flanking positions on. It was a stronger leap than he'd thought - one that carried him forward off the ridge and down right on top of a Leman Russ battletank. Well, not right on top, but he'd just missed the turret in his landing and his weight had put a surprisingly sizeable dent in it. Noticing the turret was starting to move in his direction, Hadrius quickly decided he was not going to allow the main gun to knock into his ankles or anything and swung both claws down at it viciously. To his own surprise and glee, he'd sheared the gun in half. Hadrius paused, only for a fraction of a second, to literally savour the moment. The crew inside were screaming at eachother, and he could taste their fear quite literally. The prayers they uttered only served to enrage him as usual, and he abruptly swung one of his claws into the top of the turret, where the hatch was, and proceeded to rip it open. Then he primed the Melta Bomb and reached his hand in, clamping it on the first solid wall he found.

Their screams intensified, becoming all the more audible now there was a hole in the roof, but Hadrius regretably had no time to enjoy it properly, as lasfire from inside peppering his hand informed him. Scrambling off the side of the tank as the Marines up on the ridge opened up and the other vehicles' mounted weapons began to train on him, Hadrius sprinted as quickly as he could, dust and enemy fire dancing around his heels, only to hear the distinctive dispersal sound of the bomb's high-pressured gases, and he froze to crane his head around and get a look at the half-vapourised hull. Then, a second later, the tank's surviving munitions stocks detonated, taking out the nearest Land Raider and instigating a similar chain reaction. Hadrius threw his head back and cackled, looking up to see more Marines following his example and dropping down, and started bellowing half-coherent orders interspersed with rumbling laughter.

The ancient warrior charged at the nearest Loyalist to him, a Steel Fist wielding a Power Sword and some sort of Combi-Bolter. Clearing distance between them before he could fire off a shot, the Imperial regretably got the first strike in with his sword. Hadrius parried it with his claws nonetheless, only to curse his own foolishness as his opponent rammed his weapon underneath his shoulder, preparing to fire into his armpit, apparently. Hadrius' rudimentary psychic power allowed him a few seconds' head start, and he slammed his arm down as quickly as he could, knocking the gun away, while backing off to avoid any further strikes from the Marine's sword. His adversary swore at him, called him a coward for pulling back, and Hadrius was all too eager to prove him wrong, lunging at him with both claws ready. But the first thing he did was get to ridiculously close range and then send his knee into the Imperial's stomach, clearing further ground between them as he prepared to strike. A swing was coming at him from the left now - or it would be, anyway, so Hadrius threw his weight into his right side and thrusted his claw forwards, raking it down his chest armour in an arcing motion before throwing a simple, solid kick for his pistol hand, disarming him.

"Now we're on equal terms." The Traitor Marine said with a sneer, concealed by his helmet, which he proceeded to ram into the Loyalist's in a brutal headbutt. Hadrius drew out what the Marine was feeling - pain, slight disorientation - and laughed triumphantly. They were both wearing helmets and he was feeling nothing. It was times like these that having a mutant exoskeletal skull really came in handy. "Or perhaps not," He continued mockingly, ramming both fists (albiet not his claws) into the Astarte's shoulders, forcing him back, before barreling forwards with both claws crackling through the air towards his chest.

Vegas adict 19:37, September 5, 2009 (UTC)(You can kill the librarian Solbur)

Lisendo swore and sliced his sword towards the traitor.The blade colided with the traitors hand slicing one of the marines lightning claw off."Even again"said lisendo.He fainted with his blade before thrusting towards the marines heart.The marine caught the blade in his claw and lisendo kicked the traitor in the back of the leg.Where most people would have flinched the traitor just shruged it of.Lisendo tried to get another slice in but the marine just paried all his blows.Lisendo tried again but without a gun he wasn't that good at close combat.Salvation arvied though in the form of the chapters chief librarian.A blast of pure energy hit the traitor and lisendo followed up with an attack on the traitor before being blown back by a blast from a missile.The libraian attacked again.

Run4My Talk 21:19, September 5, 2009 (UTC) '''Sliced off a lightning claw? Vegas, to start, they're power weapons, and consequently can't be broken by other power weapons (unless they're inactive). That and unless you just cut a blade or two off, you just dismembered a Player Character. Clarify what you meant on the talk page please. The psychic power Alistair uses to get into the Land Raider is Warp Walk, detailed in the Chaos Psychic Powers supplement for Inquisitor.

Alistair was getting sick of the strain of using his Storm Shield and his Daemonic Aura to stave off those Heavy Bolters. One would give way or the other would, eventually. Alistair then reached into the Warp, drawing on the power of the Empyrean and steppinf forward, disappearing for a split second. That split second over, and all hell broke loose inside the Land Raider. Out of nowhere, a giant Chaos Space Marine started attacking them. Alistair had sheathed his weapons, they were too large to be used safely in the confines of a Land Raider, and was now lashing out with his bare hands. He blocked the first attack and hit the Space Marine in the face, crushing his vocal grille and cracking his helmet lenses. The Loyalist, still conscious, lashed out with his other hand as two of his Battle Brothers dogpiled Alistair. Alistair then lunged upwards, slamming the CLoyalist on his back against the ceiling before any more could try to jump him, and followed up by swinging the one he had punched headfirst into the Space Marine hanging from his left arm. The two of them staggered off to the side as their compatriots attacked Alistair and the driver attempted to fire his Bolt Pistol into the melee. Unfortunately, he missed Alistair, and his own brethren. The shot destroyed one of the interior lights, shorting out the others. Alistair kicked an oncoming Space Marine backwards as his Autosenses compensated for the sudden darkness, launching the unfortunate Loyalist into his comrade's chest, and knocking both of them against the back wall of the troop compartment.

Alistair reached back and drew his shortsword, thumbing the activation rune as it left the frog sheathe on his belt. He hacked it through the nearest Loyalist's arm with a reverse grip as he kicked into the chest of another oncoming Loyalist. However, Alistair's gigantic size worked against him in these narrow confines. There was a Space Marine in front of him, and behind him, and one could act with impudence until such time as Alistair had killed the other. So without hesitation, Alistair impaled the one in front and pushed onwards, forcing the scum backwards. Then, having gained the space to turn around, he parried an attack from the Marine behind him, deflecting his cumbersome powerfist into another Loyalist. The Veteran Sergeant stopped for a second in horror at having punched through the chest of a dear Battle Brother, which gave Alistair a chance at slamming the hilt of his sword into the gawping Space Marine's face, shattering his nose and cracking his jaw. The force of the impact knocked him back into the three Alistair had tussled with upon entering the Land Raider.

Without missing a beat, Alistair stabbed backwards into the chest of one of the other Space Marines, piercing both hearts and his backbone as the Powered Blade slid effortlessly into the Loyalist. Alistair whipped his sword back around in a reverse-grip, slicing it across the throat of another Space Marine, spinning the dog from his feet as his blood fountained across the compartment. Sick of his sporadic firing, Alistair pulled the driver from his seat unceremoniously and used him to bludgeon the armless Space Marine to death. Lunging back at the troops inside the troop compartment, Alistair was jumped by the commander and gunner. Between their combined weight and momentum, they managed to bear the massive Chaos Lord to the ground. One of them landed on Alistair's sword. The other, a helmetless veteran, suffered an eye-gouge that tore through his eye and shredded most of the skin on the right hand side of his face. As he reeled from that attack, he suffered a headbutt as Alistair rolled to avoid being trampled by the still relatively full transport compartment. Sitting up on the commander's chest, Alistair thrust his sword into the veteran's neck, finally silencing the Land Raider. Alistair looked up just in time to be gore-tackled by another twoS pace Marines who held him as the Veteran Sergeant moved in with his power fist. Before the Space Marine could attack, though, Alistair unleashed a Wind of Chaos into the surrounding Space Marines. The horde of Warp-spawned flying Scarab Beetles stripped two of their flesh and organs in seconds while another thrashed about as the miniature daemons chewed away at his innards. Alistair then unleashed his old favourite, Doom Bolts, into the two holding them. Their armour and bodies were unscathed, but the psychic assault stripped away their essences, effectively killing them. Although, if Alistair so wished, he could invoke a daemon to possess either or both of the bodies.

A group of Loyalists fell back towards the Land Raider, hoping to find support from it's guns as as a group of Chosen charged them again. They heard the front ramp lower as the Land Raider prepared to unleash the reinforcements it contained into battle. Sadly for the horrified Loyalists, the only reinforcements it contained were for Chaos, as Alistair lumbered from the corpse-laden crew compartment, drawing his sword and bolt pistol as he strode towards them, forming the anvil to the Chosen's hammer as the Loyalists were conrnered and hacked to pieces in front of what might have been salvation on a better day for them.

Solbur 02:02, September 6, 2009 (UTC)

Hadrius grunted as he realised the blade had sheared his Lightning Claw off! No, it hadn't - it had knocked the power gauntlet off his hand, somehow, cut through his glove slightly and drew blood, but he hadn't lost an appendage or anything. In truth, it was quite hard to tell, as Nurgle's resilience had numbed his nerves for so long. Regardless, the sight and sensation of his own blood escaping his body after all this time was maddening. He focused his rage, as he always did, into the fight, effortlessly deflecting or parrying each of the Loyalist's attacks. It was almost hilariously pathetic, the way this Steel Fist was fighting - he made short work of each would-be attack without batting an eyelid beneath his twisted helm. Even with one claw, he was more than able to end this Marine on the spot - however, he drew out the battle deliberately, probing his foe's mind for anything to drink of. His resolve was slowly faltering, it seemed. That was excellent. A few quick, decisive strikes on Hadrius' part and he'd have crushed the Marine's battle enthusiasm easily, giving him just enough time to deliver some mocking, demoralising tirade against the Steel Fist's conviction and faith before finishing him off. He could almost reach out and touch the soon-to-be moment - although he did know he couldn't see that far out, so it was mere speculation, Hadrius noted as he caught an otherwise deft riposte lazily in his claw, following up with a light jab for the Marine's wrist with his other hand.

Speculation that was about to be proved correct, he thought with a sickening cackle as he prepared to go on a proper offensive. Suddenly he felt as though he was moving backwards, if only for a split second. But he wasn't. It must have been one of his far-sights, anticipating something to come. Hadrius paused but for a moment to ponder it and that only made the opening even wider as a spear of baleful Warp-fire connected with his chest, knocking him a few metres away and down to the ground. He sent his mind out through the warp into the surrounding area, scanning for any sign of its source, until he found it - a beacon of conceited, scornful light in the midst of the chaotic battle. A Librarian - a powerful one. Usually Hadrius could smell Psykers a mile off, but with Alistair and all the other powerful Sorcerers taking part in this affray, this one's presence must have been overshadowed. He scrambled to his feet and was welcomed into his standing position by the Steel Fist's sword raking across his chestplate, only to be blasted further away from his foe as a missile exploded point-blank between both of them.

Hadrius felt frazzled for the first time in a long while. Truly out of sync with everything going on around him. How had he not seen those attacks coming? How? Why couldn't he have acted? His own failures only served to anger him further as he forced himself to his feet, throwing his head back and giving a blood-curdling howl of fury that would make a Khornate Berzerker pause in respectful acknowledgement. Blinding, repulsive light seemed to ebb into the small cracks in his mental defenses his anger and disorientation had left him with. ''Repent. Suffer. Submit.'' Hadrius did the first sensible thing that occured to him and rushed at the Librarian screaming bloody murder, his blood-craze allowing him to shrug off another somewhat weaker blast of energy and keep going.

Not once did it occur to him that he had his Plasma Pistol holstered at his hip and he could have slew him from a distance. No, instead he hurtled at the Librarian, taking a telekinetic shunt to the head and yet not even hesitating as he smashed his helmet into the psyker's exposed features, flattening his nose against the rest of his face with a spurt of blood and a snarl of pain. Despite his formidable psychic powers, Hadrius couldn't help but note that this one didn't even seem to be a properly formed Space Marine - more like a half-done Neophyte than a true Astarte. Didn't have the stature, the thick skin, the rough-set features. That made it all the more easier. Hadrius sent his fist crashing into the Librarian's stomach, his enhanced muscles, Warp-bolstered strength and the fibre bundles beneath the twisted, cracked surface of his armour working in unison to drive his hand into the Librarian's gut, utterly intercepting the next psychic blast he was preparing. Winded and evidently in pain, this Librarian was providing a disappointing challenge.

"For someone who is so eager to deal out damage from a range, you're not a very well-rounded fighter, are you?" The baroque Traitor Marine quipped almost casually. Indeed, the Librarian reminded him of a sniper - or somebody whose bite is simply worse than their bark, so to speak. Hadrius hated such people. This resentment fuelled his onslaught among other things, and he growled as he punched his remaining Lightning Claw through the Librarian's shoulder-plate, dragging it down further through his arm without hesitation. Though he could draw little from such an accomplished psyker's mind directly, his screams vocalised his thoughts quite nicely, and Hadrius found himself enjoying them as he withdrew his claw. From the grip of his wounded arm had fallen a Force Weapon, still ignited by his power of will. In his other hand he held some sort of melta which he'd smartly neglected to use, so Hadrius booted it from his grasp before leaning down to scoop up the sword. The energy that sustained its sharp edge seemed to flicker and falter under his dark grip, but there was still enough psychic energy of the Librarian's lingering in it to keep it blazing for what he was about to do, a bit longer if he prolonged it slightly with his own will. Hadrius had foresaw that much.

Placing his Lightning Claw-ed hand roughly on the Librarian's wounded shoulder, Hadrius forced him to his knees and raised the blade in his other hand. In a fluid motion he'd seen himself enact in his mind seconds before, providing him with a somewhat anachronistic model to work from, he swung. The gleaming blade of light seemed to darken as it dug through the flesh of its master, starting at the side of his neck and carrying down through his chest, cleaving neatly through his torso and severing it in two pieces before exiting at his hip. At that moment, the blade failed and died with its master.

Before the torso-half could slide of its own accord away from the other, Hadrius kicked it several feet away and screamed furiously at the sky. Throwing the dead hilt down, he pulled his Plasma Pistol from his side in his free hand and span around to face Lisendo, noting that in the time Hadrius had spent fightng the Librarian, he had indeed retrieved his own weapon. The Loyalist seemed somewhat bewildered, frightened, even, and that was an unexpected bonus from his spectacular execution of the Chief Librarian. "Enjoy the show?" Hadrius chuckled before he rushed at the Marine again, blasting away at him until he got close enough to lunge for his throat with his claw...