# Hammer of Olympia



## BlackApostleVilhelm

The sky above Elisia IV had filled with small transports as those on the surface readied themselves for the inevitable battle that was to come. Their sister world had fallen earlier to this menace and thier commanders had told themselves and the soldiers they led that they would not share the same fate. Guns were readied, bastions put on high alert and patrols doubled and even trippled as reports flooded in of their fleet being torn to pieces by the massive ships that were heading toward their system.

They knew that as long as their ground to air systems were still intact that their enemy would have a very hard time landing anywhere near their hives. Unfortunately this was not the case, it was not the Iron Warriors' intention to land right in front of the hives and advance from there, they would loose too many warriors and machines. Instead they would land in the wastes south of the hives, much was still needed to be prepared for the coming sieges and this flat yet somewhat mountainous terrain would be perfect.

Yet to do so they needed three ground to air systems in an outpost to be completely silent. So while their brothers are still in space readying themselves for the landing to come Arkias and his three brothers enter this outpost......

Arkias you enter the outpost from a small waste system that leads to a ravine that you had been following for the past few days. As you make your way through the sewage system you go over in your head the layout of the outpost and the quickest way to get to the objective. As you pop open a large grating you all drop into the lower areas of the outpost, most likely part of the basement, filled with pipes and whatnot. As you make your way toward the exit you see an engineer and one of your men sneaks up behind him and snaps his neck pulling the body to hide it in the shadows. 

You open the door and enter a hallway that stretches to your right and left, left leads to the barracks and eating rooms and then to the main headquarters. Right however leads through the armory and to main housings of the ground to air weapons. You could go either way to do your job which is to get those weapons offline, either sabotage them or shut them down from the headquarters. Either way you will meet resistance, shutting them down from the headquarters will be the quickest but you have to go through the barracks and eating halls which will have lots of men, sabotaging the weapons will be slower but you will most likely not meet much resistance. What will you do?

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The strategum of the Iron Will had hardly changed one bit over the many centuries it had been in battle, the Black Apostle keeping it spartan, he had never been one for ostentisity. The briefing here was being conducted by the Apostle himself, even though he was stuck in the warp at the moment he could still speak through a small portal and had insisted on doing this himself.

Information flooded across the main screen as the four company captains and others who were deemed necessary to be here entered. Severus Pyrrhus and Lynx, you two enter with the other two captains; Barok of the first and Aresk of the fourth and take your places around the strategum as you wait for the briefing to begin.

Redivivus you had been requested to attend the briefing and you stand a little off to the side and watch the others that are present in the room. You may speak with whomever you wish, or stand and watch if you want. For whatever reason you feel as if the portal that your lord is speaking through is watching you intently.

Maxius Perciuos and Lucas Ironclaw you two are here by dint of you being the sergeants of the first squads of your companies, you are not used to being in these briefings, rather taking them from your company captains instead and are a bit nervous to be around such important people within the Grand Company.

All of you in the briefing this is the time for you to intermingle with each other and talk a bit before the briefing starts. You see Princeps Concord who stands in for Princeps Thel of the Iron Reapers Legio speaking with others from his Legio. General Shakra Radec who leads the Helghan siege regiments stands with a group of his aides who seem to be ripping his ears off with their incesant talking, while he is not a legionaire he commands the majority of the company's non astartes warriors and commands the respect of all. 

Barok the first company captain stands proud in his large suit of terminator armor, his scared face a stone of no emotion while Aresk from the fourth peers from behind his high neckgaurd at those within the room with disdain. Behind you all stands the mighty form of the dreadnought Shamesu who is beside a glowing pinkish portal, for some of you this is new to be able to see such a great and ancient warrior up close and to add to it you will be spoken to by your leader himself this time. I need to see how your characters act and react, feel free to speek to whomever you want including Shamesu who has taken a small step forward to watch all of you. 

-----------------------------

The rest of you; Kerias Bloodeyes, Corias Maximun, Vicitous Diov, Prothor Ironfist, and Zamiel the Exalted you are all getting ready for the coming drop in your own ways. Are you in the training cages, making sacrifices or prayers to the dark gods or speaking with your men? For those of you in the training cages you may see the others from the other companies, how do you react to them? Do you ignore them or start fights or do you speak to them like equals? I need to see how your characters hold themselves and their attitudes.


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## Lord of the Night

Zamiel the Exalted let his forked tongue slip out of his mouth and through the black veil of shadows that covered his face and then struck with it, slitting the Cultist's throat and allowing its blood to pour over the sacrificial altar it was crucified on. Zamiel kneeled on one knee and placed his claws on his chest, making the eight-pointed star symbol as he prayed.

"Dark Gods heed my prayers and bless me as I deliver thy will unto the enemy. Khorne bless me with your rage so that I might slaughter my enemies and bathe in their blood. Nurgle bless me with your undeath so that I may forever massacre the unworthy in thy names. Slaanesh bless me with your agility so that my enemies will never see me coming until they die in agony. Tzeentch bless me with your foresight so that I might see my enemies and avoid their pathetic excuse for wrath, that I might bring my own wrath down upon them." With that the Possessed Champion rose up and smiled.

"In the name of Chaos. For the glory of Chaos. For the glory of the Iron Warriors. For the glory of myself. Iron within!, Iron without!" Zamiel chanted rigously, repeating himself until finally letting out a ear-piercing roar. Behind him his loyal, at least the ones he didn't mistrust enough to warrant killing, Possessed marines rose behind him and repeated his final words, substituting Zamiel the Exalted in place of themselves.

"Warriors of the Daemonkin. Soon we shall fall to the planet below on wings of fire, and bring death to the corpse-gods lackeys and toadies. Spare no enemy, tear their legs out from under them, pierce their beating hearts, show the rest of these 'warriors' that we are forced to call brother what the true chosen of the Dark Gods can do. Show them that you serve the true favoured of the Chaos Gods" Zamiel ordered to his cadre. Edrad, the biggest of the squad, blinked all six of his eyes in one motion and his face began to break, the mottled skin and pus breaking to form a crude maw for him to laugh.

"We .. shall .. rend .. them. For Grandfather Nurgle!" the oozing marine gargled, his voice laden with phlgem. Dariula turned his head, reminiscent of a serpent, to regard Edrad with loathing disgust.

"Our enemiesss ssshall know sssuch pain. I ssshall ssstare into their eyesss as they perisssh" he remarked, his serpents tongue straining the letter s. Rigonen remained silent, observing his comrades with concealed bloodlust and hate while Meskias, the only normal appearing member of the squad, smirked and remained in his thoughts.

"We wait. The fools who call themselves my leaders convene and fight to see what is our course of action. But we will be there on the ground, fighting, maiming and slaughtering in the name of Chaos. All praises to the Dark Gods!" Zamiel finished. The Possessed repeated his final praise and went about blessing themselves for the upcoming battle while Zamiel prepared his ceremonial vestments to cover his body from the unworthy eyes of his fellow Astartes and the common rabble that were permitted to fight with them, or forced.


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## Fumble Tumble

Kerias, looked through the optics on the side of his training lascannon at the 'armour', down at the bottom of the shooting lane, hard target, well over one hundred metres, Kerias grinned as his optics in his eyes zoomed in and picked out the weakest point of this so called armour, with a blast of hot air, and the smell of ozone the target exploded.
Kerias grunted and turned around, "how are you doing Selcario, hitting your targets?, Prestor, hitting your targets?" with that he jumped out of the pit, and walked over to the close combat cage, shouting " Geltas, get over here, we are training close combat now" As Geltas walked over, Kerias looked over the other members of his company, he had studied them many time but he didn't trust them at all, in fact he trusted no one but his squad, and his commanders.
When Geltas arrived, Keiras said "training blades, four cultists each, eight overall" with that they walked into the cage and started dueling with the cultists, making low sweeping blows, Kerias glanced around and saw Geltas swing and glance the head of one, momentarily disorientating it, but before he could make the killing blow, three more cultists came and swung at his head and make him lose a bit of ground, with a roar Kerias dodged under ones blade, grabbed its face and lifted it of the ground before stabbing in through the centre of the chest, causing it to scream and spurt blood into his face, laughing Kerias wiped it off and narrowly dodged a swipe at his head, growling he went in and punched it in the face, breaking the jaw and sending its nose up into its brain, swinging around Kerias blocked a blade which would've severed his arm, and kicked the cultist in the chest, sending it rocketing into the cage wall and to fall to the ground unconscious, its ribs cracked open, when he looked over at Geltas, he had killed two of his, and was killing his third, when the last two cultists turned and ran at Kerias trying to kill him, with a laugh, he bounded to meet them, first he blocked one of the blades, and kicked the legs from beneath the other one.
Kerias then blocked the first one again, spinning around he brought the pommel of the blade into the side of the mans head, cracking it open like a ripe plum and sending brain matter splattering everywhere, he then turned around and stood on the other ones face, causing it to crack underneath the foot and then give way, crushing the brain, Kerias walked over the the unconscious cultist, grabbed his head and pulled the blade along his throat in one single unsentimental sweep, sending arterial blood spraying ten feet away. with a laugh Kerias stood up and turned to face Geltas butchering his last cultist "well done my brother, for the BLOODGOD!"
he then walked over to his lascannon, picked it up and started carefully dismantling it, if fact his weapon was the only thing apart from the Black Apostle who would ever recieve this much attention, unless the primarch came back from the dead, once Kerias had fully dismantled it he started cleaning every single little peice deftly, with smooth strokes of the cleaning cloth, afterwards he put it back together and walked over to the ranges to sight it in.


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## papercutdan

Lukas stood against the wall in the back sharpening his claws, pollishing his armour, praying to the Dark Gods and feeling a bit out of place and a bit uncomfortable because he was in the precence of a Daemon Prince. Though he had been in the precence of one before, It was very far away, in the middle of a battle and he never really got a good look at it. This was different, he wasn't sure if it was just him, but he felt like the Apostle was expecially focusing on him and that every word that came out of his mouth was ment for him. Like the Apostle had a job just for him, a task ment for no other, a special plan. He could feel the passion of the Dark Apostles orders and truely wanted to fulfill them, he could feel all of his emotions as he spoke. It brought a chill down his spine and made his shiver as he felt the power the Dark Apostle possesed. Lukas would stop at nothing to make sure every word the Prince spoke would be personally fulfilled by him and would gladly give his life for this noble cause.

As the Briefing came to a close Lukas walked over to Barok and began to speak with him about the specifications of the mission.


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## Prothor Ironfist

Ironfist cleaned the barrel of his bolter once more, as ever he would have no imperfections in his weaponry or within his squad. They would work like a well oiled machine and serve the Black Apostle perfectly that was how they had waged war the last 10,000 years it is also how it would continue. 

The 8th grand company would fall upon Elesia IV and it inhabitants would know death Ironfist knew this because he had had visions like most of the company of the return of the Black Apostle. Soon he would be able to once more fight alongside his lord and when that time came he would be perfect and with that thought he went back to the upkeep of his armaments.


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## deathbringer

Lynx entered behind his other captain, all three of them veterans and him the new boy, the outcast. It irked him yet he would not show it, would not give them the satisfaction of knowing such things. They had met before the briefings yet it was like 3 team players and the towel boy, still respected but not on the same plane. 

The prior meeting ired him as it had seperated him from Jag and meant he couldn't bully the guard into allowing him into the briefing. He liked Jag to be here.. to watch and observe... in case he missed something... in case he made a foolish move in front of the great Black Apostle. Instead he was flying solo.. yet he had faith. 

Sabre would have been a help... the grizzled old bastard yet he was needed to keep thrid in shape... bark at the troops get them prepared... in the right mindset. Sabre was exactly that a sword... which he ruthlessly stuck up the arse of every member of third company... lighting a fire in their bellies, then dousing it... leaving them charged and focused... deadly as a lascannon.

He gave a little smile and considered opening a comm link back to his honour guard yet he decided against it lingering on the threshold to survey the scene and his eyes danced with delight as he stood to attention, helmet held easily under his arm. He moved further into the room as Barok engaged his first sergeant in conversation and as his eyes flitted further his left hand groped for the familiar hold of his plasma cannon.

His arms felt empty with out it and he rested it upon the hilt of his sword, fingers gently stroking the pommel as he moved deeper into the room, surveying the small amount of hangings, trophies of a thousand conquests, souls and worlds purged in there name all sumarised to the small decorations. The 8th grand company kept it plain, this was business and it should be quick and clinical. He was at ease in this room yet less so with the people in it and he flicked his attention to them.

The princeps was an exception and he stood to one side, deep in conversation yet as Lynx passed he met his gaze and nodded yet the nod was short and curt before he buried himself once again in the conversation.

Lynx moved on edging towards his familiar place at the stratagem yet the massive bulk of the dreadnaught Shamesu caught his eye as he stepped forward to survey the scene and his heart caught in his mouth. The dreadnaught was a monstrous god, beautifully deadly in the glowing light of a small portal, through which the demi god, the black apostle would appear. it cast a dim light upon the armour of the dreadnaught.

He bowed to the dreadnaught and he felt its attention upon him, its eyes seemed to rake his heart and mind and he felt a burning desire. Every briefing, since he had been merely a lowly sergeant invited to the briefings to observe, he felt the attention of the great warrior. Unlike others he felt neither fear nor pride at the attention just a burning curiosity. It scarred his soul yet he feared to ask... yet that was mere cowardice and then he was merely showing those that doubted him he was no better than they thought. It created an iron will, a desperate determination and he forced his lips into words.

"My Lord I have been to many briefings in this room and each time you are quiet yet I feel your eyes upon me. They are eyes that seem to scry my very soul.. my lord i fear to ask yet i most for as a Lynx curiosity may kill the cat and I have no intention of dying unless there is an enemies blood upon my hands and a sword through my heart."

He swallowed but pushed on

"My lord when you look at me, what do you see or more importantly what do you think about what you see?"

The dreadnaught seemed to twist and though he swallowed he did not back away


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## Necrosis

Vicitous Diov stood quietly looking out the window to see the planet that was about to be consumed by the wraith of chaos. The rituals were done and hopefully he had please the chaos gods. Nothing could stop their combined power of chaos. Whatever stood in the way of chaos would be consumed by it's unstoppable tide of daemons and veterans of 10 millennium. He then turned to face his squad. "Behold, our next conquest. With this campaign we will be one step closer to our final plan. They shall not be prepared for us. Even if they had an entire millennium to get ready they would still fall to our combined power. Rejoice brothers, glory awaits us." said Victous Diov as he then lead his squad out his ritual room.


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## unxpekted22

Eisen slams his cold, iron gray gauntlet into the wall shouting,

"Damn it all!! I must have not yet proven myself to the captain!"

He looks around at other iron warriors moving in all different directions throughout the halls, preparing for the drop. He could hear the sounds of battle practice coming from the ranges and training areas.

His squad sat to the right of him on a long bench, with their heads down or their backs slumped. Some rested their chins on their fist. All of their weapons either leaned against the wall, or were held loosely in one hand over their knee.

Eisen took a deep breath, "I know I am young compared to many of our brothers, but have I truly not shown my worth?! I have not even questioned _WHY _ we have come to this world. I was willing to go into battle even if it was a suicide mission."

He turns and slumps down taking a seat next to his disappointed squad.

The squad mate he sits next to speaks to him, "Eisen...I really wanted to kill some stupid false emperor worshiping imperial guardsmen..."

Eisen pats him on the shoulder guard lightly, "I know my friend, I know."


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## Deus Mortis

Corius walked into the sacrifice room, donned in full battle armour, where many alters to the dark Gods had been erected. He saw Zamial and his possessed squad making sacrifices and he saw Vicitous leaving. Corius knelt before the the alter of Khorne. Whilst he served each God, he had always be slightly partial to Khorne on the eve of battle when he was itching to decimate the servants of the false emperor. Slowly rocking backwards and forwards, he began to chant quietly "Kill, Maim, Burn. Kill, Maim, Burn. Kill, Maim, Burn. Kill, Maim, Burn..." The repetitive chant seemed to become as steady as his own pulse and his very blood seemed to cry out a praise to Khorne. Suddenly he stopped, hearing footsteps into the sacrifice room. He turned around to see Ares, Celux, Desin and Mithras. He stood up and spoke to his men. 

"Brothers! We have come here today to do the Dark Gods and the Black Apostles bidding. Our enemies believe themselves safe inside their bastions! They cower in the dark and offer prayers to their false emperor. But he cannot save them! We shall rend their heads from their shoulders, we shall destroy all that they hold dear and when we are done, none shall question that the blessing of chaos is upon us! FOR THE GLORY OF CHAOS!"
"FOR THE GLORY OF CHAOS!" his squad mates answered his call to arms. Corius smiled.
"We shall be making planetfall soon. Make your selves ready, and meet me here at 0800 hours. IRON WITHIN!"
"IRON WITHOUT!" was the resounding chant of agreement.

Kneeling back at the alter of Khorne, he knew the God wanted a sacrifice, after all, it was the sacrifice room. But Corius had prepared such a sacrifice! On one of their many campaigns, he had captured the Capitan of the 9th company of the Imperial fists, their arch-foes. Every day he had tormented him and mocked his belief in the false emperor, but the Fist had remained strong in his faith. Such a shame! But over the past week, he had commissioned a suit of brass power armour, engraved with icons of Khorne to be made so his sacrifice would be pleasing to the God. He spoke over the vox to Armanius, one of the slave drivers of the Iron Warriors, "Would you please bring my fist to the sacrifice room with the armour of Khorne and a weapon of his choosing."
"As you wish!" was the simple reply. In five minutes, the Fist stood before him. 
"You cannot corrupt me, traitor" was his simple declaration.
"Oh, I don't intend to corrupt you. I have given you a chance to redeem yourself! If you kill me, you will go back to the slave driver to be put to good use. If not...." Corius chuckled to himself, knowing that the Fist couldn't best him in combat "...you will be offered up to the great God, Khorne. Shall we begin?" The fist roared at his mocking tone, but that was what Corius wanted. he knew Khorne would be more inclined to accept a blood-frenzied warrior than some pathetic cultist. The fisted dived at him with his thunder hammer again and again, but even in his terminator armour Corius was faster. As the fist became more and more desperate, Corius started to mock him "Is that all a Fist is capable of?", "I fought Guardsmen who were more capable fighters than you!", "Come on, what would the false emperor say?" The last insult really enraged the fist.
"YOU DARE USE HIS NAME AGAINST ME!!!" and with that he dived at him once more. 

Now the fist was as angry as he was ever going to be, he had been bested in combat, his chapter mocked and his emperor insulted, now was the time to make the sacrifice. As the fist dived at him Corius side-stepped him and drove his lightning claws into his spine. The pain made the fist release the thunder hammer and scream. Corius loved hearing fists in pain! Pulling one lightning claw out, he flung the fist onto the sacrifice table. Pulling the other claw out and walking around to where the fists head was leaning slightly over the edge of the table Corius spoke the Eight sacred words of Khorne. Standing in front of the fist and placing his lighting claws next to his neck. Corius spoke in a loud voice which filled the room "My lord Khorne, I bring before you a sacrifice of a noble warrior of the Imperial fists chapter. Our arch-enemies. He is blinded by rage and frenzied from battle. He wears armour to your glory and has shed much blood by his own hands and the hands of those he commands. I pray that you find him a fitting warrior sacrifice, and in return answer my prayers and allow me to fell all enemies that stand before me! Please accept this humble offering Lord of Skulls!" And with that Corius severed the head of the paralysed warrior in front of him. His head rolled harmlessly onto the floor, and the body burst in into an unholy flame. Corius took it as a sign that Khorne approved of his sacrifice and picked up he head of the Fist. Tossing it onto the burning body, Corius walked out of the sacrifice room and went to make the final preparations for the planet fall which would happen later. But first, he would clean the scummy fists blood from his claws...


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## dark angel

Arkias slipped through the shadows. The Olympian had entrusted the Silent Ones with assuring the AA Weapons would not come online during the main landing, that would be able to end the entire campaign before it had even started. He continued onwards with Evangelos and his rifle at point, followed by Tartarus while Arkias himself occupied the third position in the line. 

Pipes shook around them, every now and again releasing a hiss of steam onto the black armoured behemoths who felt the hot air tingle at their exposed flesh. Suddenly Evangelos raised a balled fist. The signal to halt. Almost robotically the Squad went down upon their knees, those with firing weapons had shouldered them while those without hovered their hands ready for the attack. 

The man was dressed in a beige uniform with red trimmings, a brown leather bag hanged at his waist along with a Laspistol that had clearly never been used on a living being before. Arkias looked back at Vlassis and nodded, the Marine stood silently and pulled himself upwards onto a giant of a pipe and slowly crept towards his target who was now fumbling with a control panel upon a wall that refused to work for him. 

The Silent One fell down into the shadows, wrapped his fingers around the mans windpipe he pushed them inwards and suddenly pulled away, ripping through bone and snapping his neck before easing the body downwards and turning his head to tell his Commander to continue onwards. Slowly each Marine stood and marched towards the light streaming inwards from the open door. 

The last Marine, Hyakinthos let the blades of his Lightning Claws slip from their sheath with a crackle of dried blood upon them, sending flakes tumbling towards the ground below. They emerged into a long hallway, large beam lights illuminated it at three metre intervals, in certain places abandoned carts filled with equipment laid lazily against walls. 

His Squad were split, with Tartarus and Hyakinthos facing one way and Evangelos and Vlassis the other. Arkias himself stood in the centre with his back against the wall, arms crossed and in deep thought. Vibrations were tapping into him from the floor and wall, echoing voices burning the skin where his ears had once been. 

He realised where he would have to go. Suddenly he bolted off, the Silent Ones immediately pursing him like a pack of baying hounds they thundered onwards, leaping from the shadows towards a giant blast door. A pair of Elisian Storm-Troopers spun towards the and shouldered their shotguns, only to find the whisk of air where they had imagined something to be. 

Then the trap was spun. Hyakinthos pulled himself from the shadows a mere two metres from both Imperials and felt his first heart stop for a second as he punched one Claw through the closest’ chest, destroying major organs without struggle. The man, in one last act of defiance brought his weapon up and fired point black into the abdomen of the Astartes, the round however pinged away and struck the wall next to them. 

The second Storm-Trooper fired twice, forcing Hyakinthos to step backwards slightly as each round hit him in the chest. However the Marine simple smiled a faceless smile and beheaded the Elisian, his fellow Marines taking up positions around him. The doors parted. For those sitting at the tables within, many did not even bother to look thinking it was more Elisian’s entering for breakfast. How wrong they were. 

The closest table of Guardsmen was torn apart in a red cloud, limbs flying in all directions as Tartarus stepped forwards firing his Bolter. Screams filled the canteen as the few Guardsmen with weapons near them grasped hold and formed a firing line while their fellows scrambled towards the exits. A Commissar in a peaked cap with pale skin was leading them and Arkias made the “Don’t kill” sigil to his Squad. 

Hyakinthos was already bounding forwards, shredding Guardsmen cowering beneath tables. A chair connected with his face plate as a Storm-Trooper pulled himself from his hiding place with a pair of Laspistols aimed at him. The Marine would have roared if he was able, however instead he forced his shoulder into the Imperial, sending them both falling backwards. 
The man however refused to die and instead continued to fire into the Astartes who was now raising both Lightning Claws for the kill. The Storm-Trooper grinned as he fired both Laspistols at the Claws, sending them bucking backwards. Suddenly Hyakinthos was kneeling alone, the Storm-Trooper having rolled away and scurried out of a window. 

The Commissar had organized the Imperials expertly, now with some eighty men around with shouldered weapons. Tartarus and Evangelos took their chance and fired. Guardsmen fell backwards in jets of arterial blood, many clutched stumps that had once been limbs and reached out to their red drenched fellows who simply kicked them away and moved backwards, firing at the hip. 

Vlassis was swinging one of his Chain-Pick Axes in one hand and firing his Bolt Pistol in the other, taking away heads and limbs with each shot. The Commissar stood firm, returning Bolt Rounds at the Astartes who were forced to spin away from the highly destructive ammunition. And then, Hyakinthos appeared. The Astartes was covered in blood and streamers of flesh, he wrapped his arms around the Commissar who squirmed in his grip and carried him towards the doorway. 

Arkias however, simple stood motionless at the doorway. He did not need to get involved in this and instead let his Astartes handle it knowing full well each member could do so with ease. Hyakinthos threw the Commissar down at his feet, the Imperial reached for a nearby knife only to have his fingers crushed by a stern foot, bones twisting painfully. 

Smoke now hung within the canteen, as did the dying mourns of Imperials who crawled towards exits weakly. The Astartes stood around the Commissar who was muttering a prayer, suddenly Arkias shook his head and drew his Tulwar, punching it outwards through the mans chest and exiting it through his lower spine. 

He yanked it out and let the body slide away, walking calmly through the carnage he ended several lives through remorse and mercy, realizing if he did not his fellow Iron Warriors in orbit would bring a much more painful death upon them. While this would generally gain him a great hatred among his Brethren, he knew that Vilhelm supported his actions though not entirely shedding mercy upon their enemies. 

The canteen finally gave way into the barracks, where several dozen, or even several hundred, Imperials stood defiant. Soon however, slaughter ensured. Arkias charged forwards with his Tulwar held to his face plate, he reached the Imperials first. With a spin of the blade he beheaded five Guardsmen, sending their bodies sprawling backwards into the tightly packed Imperials and covering them with warm blood. 

Hyakinthos was pushing forwards to the left, dancing in the blood and shredding through the Guardsmen like a Daemon of Old. Vlassis was bounded across bunks, throwing them into the air to get at the Imperials behind them. Evangelos was following behind with Tartarus, Combat-Blades and Bolt Pistols drawn for the close combat fighting they were undertaking. 

Arkias found himself swinging his Tulwar in all directions, splitting Elisian Guardsmen like egg shells, sending organs pooling across the ground. Five Storm-Troopers wielding large Chainswords with silver hilts and orange cloaks charged forwards, their upper face hidden behind golden helms advanced towards him with grins upon their faces. 

The Silent One had once been a member of the Thunder Warriors, the original Astartes. Thus he had faced down many enemies with a blade, and these mere Imperial bastards would be no different from the countless Xeno and Astartes he had took lives from with the Tulwar in his hand. The first came in low, spinning and bringing the blade upwards at towards the face plate. 

Masterfully, Arkias blocked it with the Tulwar and brought the blade through the mans helm, shattering his skull in the process. The second and third joined the attack together, both bringing their weapons down upon the shoulders of Arkias with a roar, forced the Astartes upon his knees. Both were leering forwards when the Tulwar spun outwards and gutted them. The final two Storm-Troopers saw their fellow Imperials deaths and slowly backed away, both receiving a Bolt from Evangelos. 

Soon the fight was over, and nearly the entire Detachment lay dead beneath their feet. Only the AA Crews remained. The Squad came out upon a large balcony overlooking the four barrelled AA Guns, each of which was angled upwards at the slowly darkening skies. Evangelos took his rifle from his shoulder and took aim at the Crews, or more importantly their Commanders. 

Arkias knew that Vilhelm would be pleased if he could capture the weapons undamaged, however he knew this task would have to be done with haste as the assault would begin soon. Evangelos suddenly fired, pulling the first Commander from his Gun, twirling in a maelstrom of his own blood. The second followed closely, landing upon the tilled floor and sliding away. 

The Shadow-Smith sheathed his Tulwar and drew his ornate Bolt Pistol. He rested it upon his palm and attached the scope, looking down it into the red tinged area below he fired and struck the third Commander, destroying his upper body. Three seconds past and there was a click, the second round being pushed into place. With another pull of the trigger the fourth and final Commander lost his head in a puff of blood. 

The remaining Crew members were slaughtered by Tartarus, while lazily Arkias gazed at the now full skies and awaited the invasion and more importantly the arrival of the Olympian himself. Black Apostle Vilhelm himself would be very pleased with the taking of the weapons and the base itself.


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## Concrete Hero

Redivivus stood motionless in the corner of the room to displace his vast size. The glowing lights from the portal and the buzzing overhead lamps played across the polished surface of his steel Draconic head, glowing red eyes seeming to bore into anyone who threw a glance his way. He'd been listened to the various conversations in the room, magnifying each voice so all the discussions buzzed in his mind with one voice and at a collective volume. Without his, 'enhancements', he probably wouldn't have been able to make sense of the apparent chaos, or only pick up snippets at best. But as it was each conversation filtered through his mind with ease, most of which, irritatingly, was non consequential.

As their lords otherworldy voiced echoed through the warp gate, Redivivus felt a small nagging sensation at the back of his mind, like he was being watched. He didn't feel like their Prince was _speaking_ directly to him, more staring at him through the empyrean. What's more, he felt like his lord _knew_ Redivivus was aware of the sensation. He let out a small cough of annoyance, sounding like a mechanical throat clearing through his voice. 

He tilted his head to look around the room, taking stock of those present. He saw Severus as he entered the room and inclined his head in greeting. He showed the Obliterator the proper respect, and certainly deserved it in return. Pyrrhus had a great deal of mechanical implants, making him much more of an efficient warrior, something Redivivus held in regard.

He was... Glad the Black Apostle had requested his presence in the briefing. Time seemed to be meaningless when you've been fighting for more than 10,000 years, but it still felt like an age since he had seen their Commander. Prince Vilhelms return would be a welcome one, though the Obliterator wouldn't let this fact, or his feelings of the matter, on of course.

Redivivus had sent a short transmission to Falcis and Pangorax informing them of the situation, and they both seemed fairly content to remain where they were. Falcis was helping the Warsmiths prepare some of the siege constructs for daemonic possession at any rate.

Redivivus still couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched by the portal, or more accurately being watched through it. He regarded it for a moment and his eyes flashed a bright red silently.

The Obliterator caught sight of one of the captains, Lynx? Approaching the light eclipsing form of Shamesu and asking the venerable warrior a question regarding his opinion. He smirked inwardly, he was interested to hear the Dreadnoughts response. As for the Captain himself, he was one of the less familiar to him. He wasn't sure if he'd worked with this Lynx or not any time recently. 

He regarded the attending Princeps momentarily, he would have preferred if Thel himself could have attended this briefing, he wasn't familiar with this fleshling... Though that at least means the Titans would more than likely be making an appearance in the coming battle. A deep hunger burnt inside Redivivus at the thought; the glorious destruction that those constructs could wreak... The Obliterator shook his head ever so slightly and banished the thoughts before they became... Dangerous. Either way, he relished the opportunity to work with Titans, either on or off the battlefield.

Redivivus glanced around the room once more, falling back into the habit of processing the conversations taking place.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[I will be doing small updates like this in between the main posts for those that require it]

Lynx, Shamesu stands silent for what seems like an eternity as his cold blue eyes bore into your own eyes. Without warning he speaks and the deepness and clarity of his voice surprises you to say the least, *"You are young halfbreed, and you are not the only warrior in our great company with cursed blood."* He stops and what you assume to be a sigh emanates from his vox speaker, *"Yet you have shown the determination and tactical understanding that has been lost from so many other Grand Companies in this millenia. Your ability to analyze the battlefield and use what men you have to the best of thier abilities is a good trait, and to see something from one such as you is....intriguing."*

He stops and lets you absorb what he has been saying, or is he simply thinking on what he has said himself. It is the first time you have truly spoken with this ancient warrior and so you are not privy to how he acts, but before you can say anything he speaks up again, *"Know this, while the blood of the bastard Dorn runs through your veins our lord has seen it fit to put you in the position you now hold, we both know you will not disappoint."* You get a strange feeling that the venerable dreadnought is done speaking with you and walk away struggling with what he said. What nags at you the most was who he was refering to as we, did he mean you and him, or him and the Apostle, or all three of you?

[For the rest of you I am waiting for Euphrati to post, if she doesn't by tomorrow then I will have an update for you by tomorrow night]


----------



## deathbringer

The dreadnaught's pale blue eyes were hauntingly beautiful as they looked at him, staring intently into his soul and then the god spoke. Out of the blue he spoke, spoke in a deep clear voice like the rolling of an ocean, like the rumble of a heavy weapon. His words were considered and he seemed to weigh every single one and allow it to float through the air like beautiful music.

"You are young halfbreed, and you are not the only warrior in our great company with cursed blood." 

Halfbreed... the word had chased him through life... haunted his footsteps and stunted his progress like a curse, a deficiency. He hated the small part of himself, yet part of him wondered, was it a perfect mix, seige maker and seige breaker, to have both must give him an edge at least, tactically, he had always been ahead of the field, always able to predict the edge

A sigh emitted from the vox like a whisper upon the wind and Lynx had the feeling that the great warrior regretted the words he was about to say... the praise he was about to lump onto the bastard halfbreed of Dorn

"Yet you have shown the determination and tactical understanding that has been lost from so many other Grand Companies in this millenia. Your ability to analyze the battlefield and use what men you have to the best of thier abilities is a good trait, and to see something from one such as you is....intriguing."

Intriguing... the word haunted him.. he was a puzzle yet the great Shamesu, the warrior the legend, praised his tactics. He had known he was great yet as he opened his mouth the beautiful voice rippled through the air once more

"Know this, while the blood of the bastard Dorn runs through your veins our lord has seen it fit to put you in the position you now hold, we both know you will not disappoint."

So Shamesu at least had faith in him.. but both.. did that mean his Lord believed in him... everyone knew he believed in himself from the way he carried himself or was Shasemu just leading him on.. Once again he opened his mouth yet maybe it was the tiny shift of his bulk yet Lyn suddenly felt that the conversation was closed and that the God's attention had moved on and he bowed slightly before turning to move to his position. 

As he turned he caught sight of a mass of flesh and machinery, taller than all but the dreadnaught, he towered in the shadows, a ridden armoured form that protruded weaponry from arms and shoulders and as he leaned forward slightly he saw the barrel of a multimelta glinting deadly silver in the light.

Lynx could not suppress a smile as he saw the obliterator staring at him, almost sizing him up and suddenly he realised the olbiterator had been listening to his conversation. He quickly summarised the conversation... he looked a little under confident and was a whoreson of Dorn.... yet almost everyone new that and if anyone understood how it was to be an outcast it was an obliterator... respected but still outcasts all the same.

He nodded to the obliterator smiling at the deadly array of weaponry before turning away and taking his place at the table


----------



## Euphrati

Captain Pyrrhus stepped into the room with a creak of armour plates and softly hissing servos, his storm-grey eye passing silently over the gathered warriors. The power to conquer worlds lay within the room, minds of iron and hearts of stone. His gaze settled upon the massive form of Redivivus; the blessed Obliterator’s form cloaked in shadow, his eyes glowing like shards of warpfire. Severus inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement and respect to the creation of the Gods; Redivivus had chosen to attach himself to the second company, Severus’s command, and the Iron Warrior was one of the few who seemed to see the mind behind the wrath that took Redivivus upon the field of battle.

His steps echoed heavily through the spartan room as Severus took up his place nearby the mighty Obliterator, noting with cold interest the Princeps of the Iron Reapers Legio standing to one side. It was rare that Thel left his titan for any length of time, the pain of being separated from the warp-blessed god machine showing within his stiffened stance. Severus knew the titans loathed the confinement of interstellar travel and would strain against the chains that bound them to the decking until they howled with the voice of daemons.

Movement drew his attention back to the workings at hand and a feral sneer drew across his features as he watched the astartes who stepped forward to speak to the Ancient Shamesu. _Lynx, the half-blooded mongrel who had somehow managed to find himself as captain of the third._ Severus curled his lips back in disgust, blackened iron fangs gleaming wetly in the low light of the strageum, as the whelp licked at the feet of the Black Apostle’s second in command. 

_The cur does not belong amongst true warriors!_ Yet, the fates had set the half-blood in situations that he had somehow distinguished himself, and here he was; a thorn in Severus’s side. The whelp had even managed to seed a following of sorts into his ranks. The sneer of disgust twisted into an even more frightening smirk of vile humour upon his face. _Guards! The half-blood isn’t even strong enough to defend himself without his yapping pack of hounds._

Severus had no personal guards. He _needed_ no personal guards to enforce his will upon his company. The fact that Lynx found the need to surround himself with those who stroked his pride only confirmed in Severus’s mind that the bastard son of Dorn did not deserve to call himself an Iron Warrior. Severus shifted slightly, the servos in his armour giving a low growl as they adjusted. He felt every one of them now as keenly as if they had been part of his flesh always. Luck had been too long with Lynx and when he faltered Severus would be there to offer his support with the curved spike of Oathbreaker. 

Severus snorted and turned his attention to the portal through which their Prince would make his plans known. It came as somewhat of a mild surprise to Severus how eagerly he awaited the return of the Black Apostle; the daemon-prince’s time imprisoned in the warp was drawing quickly to an end and it was clear that he was keen to fight at the side of the commander of the 8th once again.

Severus tilted his head slightly to the side, his voice low and coarse like the grinding of vast gears,

‘Obliterator Redivivus, I understand that you and your blessed brethren shall be again fighting amongst the ranks of my men as we tear this city of the false-emperor open like an over-ripe fruit? I have come to relish your presence at my side, brother,’ what could possibly be a faint smile played around Severus’s lips, causing the silver wires beneath his skin to shimmer with power slightly, ‘with the honour of our Legion becoming muddied with mongrel blood, it is even more essential that the heart of Iron remains pure.’


----------



## Concrete Hero

Redivivus stared impassively as the Dreadnought spoke to the young Captain, smiling inwardly at Shamesus choice of words, for he was sure they were no accident. Of the Great warriors true meaning, he couldn't fathom right now, the entombed one was hard to read at the best of times. After Shamesu had made it apparent the conversation was over, Lynx turned to look in the Obliterators direction and caught a smile flickering across his lips. Redivivus merely flashed his baleful eyes in response before the Captain went to pursue other ventures.

The glowing orbs in the dark metallic hollow of his eyes moved slightly to regard Severus beside him. Without warning, the slow grinding of gears and the pumping of pistons emanated from the Obliterator, a low mechanical sound rumbling forth; he was chuckling.

Redivivus rumbled as he spoke, each of his deep words thick with a mechanical and tinny tinge.

'_I think the fleshling may just surprise you Captain_' He let the last word roll out as his Draconic head shifted slightly, a smile?

'_We will be with the second, Pyrrhus, after all, the others can be such a bore._' He shifted his vast bulk slightly, so he faced the captain. '_I can be available for your briefing should you desire, though Falcis and Pangorax will not_' it was more of a declarative statement than anything else.

'_Though from what I understand the fighting has already begun._' The many interlocking plates that made up his fearsome visage twitched again as the Obliterator smiled


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Everyone in the briefing; As the Black Apostle finishes the briefing the room goes silent as you all go over what you have been told. Shamesu's massive chassis turns towards the portal and it becomes apparent that the briefing is over and that you should leave and ready yourselves. As you all file out think on the plans and the landing instructions; to those of you in higher up positions you will have heard or even met Arkias's stealth squad and are aware of their current mission. Do you like Arkias, or do you feel contempt for the warrior because of what seems like favouritism from the Black Apostle that this warrior takes orders only from him?

Everyone except Arkias; Lights and klaxons begin to wail and soon Astartes are running to the different decks on the Iron Will to ready themselves at the transports. Captains Pyrrhus and Lynx you two head back to your respective ships as do the other two captains and ready your men for the drop. Landing before you will be three regiments of the Helghan siege troops to secure the landing zone, do you like these troops or do you hate the fact that you must fight beside them? I want to know how you feel towards these soldiers. 

You enter your designated drops ships, either Thunderhawks or some very ancient looking Storm Birds and strap up ready for the coming battle, a fire burning in your chest. The last planet you all had just taken was a walk in the park to what this planet will be but your grand company is not called the Hammer of Olympia for no reason and the pride with which each and every warrior of the Eighth carries himself can be seen, as the dropships load up and ship off. 

Rocketing toward the planet you expect to have a little bit of AA fire but are releaved the whoever was sent planetside has clearly done their job. Captains you have just been told that the Helghans have taken over the AA guns that Arkias and his men had disabled and are currently holding off what air resistance the Elisians are sending out toward the wastes. Pyrrhus you feel as though something is amiss, a planet this well protected should never have such weak resistance in the beginning of a siege and a nervous worry that you feel must be addressed begins to nag at you, you resolve to find your fellow captain Barok of the first and to speak to him on this matter once you are planetside.

Arkias; The Helghans make planetside first and rush to fill the AA guns and get them up and running again. A ragged looking Colonel makes his way to where you are standing and nods his head in respect to you, *"Thank you Lord, we are making the guns operational as we speak."* Does he tell you this because he feels you should know? As if you didn't know already, you feel he has told you because he fears you as do the rest of the Helghan troops. But you dont care, these men are much honorable then the cultists used as meatshields and you admire them a bit for their bravery to fight alongside ones such as the Iron Warriors. 

[Alright everyone the siege is officially a go, you have all landed in the southern wastes outside the smallest hive and the first objective in this siege. The wastes shall be our staging area until the first hive is taken and we will move on from there to the next ones that need to be taken. As you step out of your transport the area around you is full of a mechanical chaos, dropships land and drop off more Helghans or cultists and huge spaces are already being bulldozed to allow the landing of Thel's titans and the bigger tanks that travel with the Eighth. Lynx your company is the one charged with pushing the cultists through to the walls to check for landmines and the line of sight for the wall's guns, you better get on this as soon as you land or there will be hell to pay. 

The rest of you report to your company captains and they will brief you on where and what you are attacking and what rolls you will fill, Pyrrhus do this before you speak with Barok. As you report to your captains the Helghans and their siege guns have already begun the siege on this tiny fortress that stands in your way of your greater objective. Gunfire can be heard as you ready yourselves to storm this keep, all know that it will be taken with no casualties to the astartes and few to the Helghans. This update is meant to be quick so organize yourselves quickly and the next update will commence the attack on this keep. Remember report to your respective Captains and they will tell you where you all are attacking and what your jobs are, Arkias report to Shamesu, he will have your orders] 

P.S. I expect you all to know who your respective captains are, if you are in the first it is Barok, the second is Pyrrhus (euphrati), the third is Lynx (deathbringer), and the fourth is Aresk.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Riggonen roared, his face becoming longer and spiked with his dreadlocks, smeared in blood, hanging from the back of his elongated head to his shoulders. The cultists panicked and ran into the mine field, as they died they rejoiced in the name of Perturabo and the men of Iron, proud to sell their lives for this cause.

As his second drove the human-fodder to their deaths Zamiel watched from a small cluster of rocks from a landslide at the target ahead of them. He could smell their fear and weakness from here, and longed to butcher them like the cattle they were. Dariula and Meskias stood together, silently conversing. Their camaraderie held no interest for Zamiel who didn't trust any of them, bar Edrad whom he trusted enough to turn his back on him, and even so the both of them were no match for him even together.

Edrad shambled up to Zamiel, his arms dripping with green pus, "Lord.. the siege guard is here" he gurgled. Several squads of the Helghan siege troops were behind the disease-ridden marine. Zamiel snarled, these 'warriors' were nothing but mere cannon fodder to protect his fellow astartes and yet they had the nerve to pretend they had some part beyond dying horribly to play in this campaign. He loathed them.

Eventually he heard the blasting of guns and realized the lesser scum had found the guns range. He barked a command to Meskias to send it in to the high command which the twisted Possessed did immediately.

"Possessed of Chaos. Let us ride for battle, let us see if we can lure out some of the animals from the herd" Zamiel mused as he and the other Possessed stampeded forward, past the dead cultists and exploded mines until they reached suitable heavy cover and started scoping out the fortress, making no secret of their position in an attempt to bring out some of the defenders.


----------



## dark angel

Arkias stared in the over polluted skies, now with the visage of a swarm of locusts above a field. He couldn’t help but laugh within the dark depth of his cruel, ancient mind that without him the invasion might have already have been plucked from the world like a tick from a body, ripped away brutally by the AA Guns spread before him. Each was a medium sized weapons platform, a pattern that Arkias had not seen for a long time. 

There was a crackle and he looked up to find a large Titan Transport enter low orbit, hanging there like a bird of prey that has sighted its prey. Several Helgan transports, large blocky things with a stub nose that was covered in reinforced armour, a pair of turbine engines either side of its oblong body landed nearby, kicking up a storm of dust. Their ramps fell down, sending loud echoes across the compound and the first Helgan charged outwards. 

Each Helgan was of a tall stature, well built and far more muscular than a normal human due to the world they had been borne to. Their uniforms were of the darkest black, bowl shaped helmets covered the top half of their heads while the lower was replaced with a gasmask, the large bug like eye lenses emitted a ominous orange glow that seemed to suck you in. 

They formed up into Phalanx like organizations, with the lighter looking men at the fore front and the larger heavy weapons trotting monstrosities bringing up the rear. Each ‘Phalanx’ had a commander at their front, some held sabre’s before them, with the other hand held behind their back. Several Tanks, mostly of a old Leman Russ models rolled down ramps with a gruff from their engines and began to move to defensive positions around the compound. 

A scruffy looking colonel, with a half tucked in jacket pulled around his armoured form moved towards them, wearing a capture Commissar’s hat upon his head. As he did so, he strained slightly as he saw that Arkias was awaiting him with his four Brothers, his hand upon the hilt of his Tulwar. A fuzzy beard covered his lower face, stained with old food and dried blood there was a strange order coming from him. 

He came to a halt and saluted, slamming his balled fist into the female looking chest plate of his armour and saying “Thank you Lord, my engineers are examining the weapons for use as we speak, they shall spit their own shells into the enemy before we know” Arkias simply nodded before pushing away, moving towards the First Company Positions. 

Several times they forced Battle Tanks to halt quickly as they slipped before them, even as their Commanders shouted curses they continued onwards. Iron Warriors were also filtering outwards from their transports, the newer and uglier Thunderhawks were the most common, their blocky shapes seemingly leaking Astartes. 

The larger, more versatile Stormbirds were less common and that saddened Arkias who had often used them during the Unification Wars under the Emperor himself. Each was able to enter the Warp, or at least they had once been capable of doing so. Now most of these were corrupted behemoths, some nearly swollen to twice the size yet these only seemed to carry the members of the First Company. 

The Silent Ones got several hate, or fear filled looks as they passed and some even shouted comments though those were quickly shut up by head long glances. Arkias simply hissed at them from within, knowing many of those would simply fall upon the battlefield to the enemy guns. He spotted Captains, with Marines crowded around them issuing orders however he did not spare them a nod due to him feeling urgent to report to Great Shamesu.

He found the Dreadnaught surrounded by a cadre of Squad Commanders and Terminators. Pushing past them without care he fell to his knees before the Embodied God and bowed before standing and stepping backwards, his Squad doing the same. He awaited patiently his orders, not wanting to rush such a powerful beast.


----------



## deathbringer

The Black Apostle's fiery eye burned away, shrinking till it withdrew completely leaving a stunned silence and the lavender glow of the portal in its wake. The silence held as everyone considered, pondered upon the array of information they had received yet Lynx's mind was clear and he was already moving towards the door

His orders were flashing round his mind, he had no time... he had to be down on the planet first driving the cultists forward towards the fortress, his spotters in place and his teams ready before the other captains had hit the ground.  He had to be ready to move in and support the assault one three fronts. 

He screwed the vox bead into his ear and barked

"Talk to me"

5 names were returned to him in rhythmic fashion as the honour guard ceased their activities and turned there attention upon him

"The briefing favours us well, our Lord is using us to our strengths. We have three tasks to complete. Firstly, to unload the cultist and drive them to the walls. Secondly set up scouts and draw firing positions onto the walls and the wall defences. Thirdly, we are breaching the walls in 3 places and we need to support their assaults, we need to split the company over several places."

He heard Sabre give a grunt of approval and Jag muttered... 

"your plan?"

"I want the possessed and the choosen and all our other spotters down on the ground... let them tear the cultists apart, push them forwards. Have them to terrified to move even a step backwards. Cheetah, I want you down there planetside shipping out cultists and setting up spotters before I even get back to the ship."

Over the vox he heard cheetah give a little snigger but before he could make a comment Lynx overrode him

"Jag, go with him I want to make sure the job is done properly and the cannon fodder is in place. Sabre brief the rest of the company and wait till I arrive before setting off"

Lynx strode purposefully, not breaking flow as his words were coming thick and fast flowing with the skilled machinations of his minds. The hanger was an awe inspiring sight yet this team he forced himself to move and not linger, staring in wonder, filled with the bustle of moving servitors and the blaring sounds of the intercom. His senses were awash with sights sounds and the overwhelming sent of diesel oil wafting through his nostril as he searched around the mass of stormbirds for the familiar one bearing the claw and bleeding scratches of 3rd company. 

"We will split into 3 strike forces a melta or multimelta, plasma, heavy flamer or flamer,and autocannon or heavy bolter squad in each force giving us a good range of anti tank and infantry as we pass through each breach and support each company in turn, whilst we use our other longer ranged squads such as the lascannons, plasma cannons to hit the wall defences and clear the walls prior and after the breaches. Sabre you should be controlling our long ranged squads, Cheetah you take the right supporting 4th company, Leo the centre with 1st and Lion, Jag and myself are going to have some fun. We're going to take the left and piss of our good friend Severus of second by saving his ass when he gets pinned down."

"Any questions?"

He spotted the emblem towards the end of the hanger and dodge as servitor arms laden with ammuniition and brok into a trot as he rushed up the ramp, staring round at the familiar surroundings. 6 grav chairs lay before him and he sank into his familiar one feeling the leather mould around his body as he sealed himself in. The hydralics of the ramp whirred into life and there was a hiss of compressed air as the ramp slid upwards and upon a large monitor several numbers appeared denoting time to take off, time to landing and various other aeronautical factors Lynx knew nothing about it. He tasted the familiar staleness in the air and closed his eyes to listen

"Tactically sound" came Jag's clear voice and there was a trace of laughter in his voice as he added "If vengeful"

"What about the spotters, after the breach?" Cheetah muttered

"Bung 'em through the wall with 1st company... lets see Zamiel messing with the combined might of Leo and Barosk." he paused

"Put the terminators with them... I cant see Prothor allowing Zamiel to run wild.. his loyalty is unwavering.."

"And the chosen my Lord?"

"The sorceror... put Victious with me... I dont think he needs to be put in order just his powers might be useful unnerving Severus"

There were several grunts of ascension

"Lion you give the choosen their brief will Jag and Cheetah get there gear sorted"

"Lets go team"

Lynx relaxed for a second watching the red numbers fall quickly towards zero and once again he blessed his honour guard, without them he could never achieve so much.
________________________________________________________________

The mane of golden hair tossed as the Lion strode before the ranks of spotters he had assembled. He noticed Zemiel, haughty and proud at the front of the group and he saw his lip curl as he began the orders

"We are responsible for driving the cultists to the walls... kill as many as you like but have them pissing themselves in fear. Then ineed you take up positions and scope the fortress for entrances, and most importantly firing lances to defences on the wall. You will be lead in these endeavours by Jag and Cheetah"

Some distance away from the others he saw Victovious the sorceror cross his arms and stare intently at him

"Once the walls are breached possessed lead by Zemiel and terminators lead by Prother Ironfist will pile through the breach in the centre with 1st company whilst the chosen under Victovious will be on the left with our captain and 2nd company"

Once inside you will coordinate with 4 squads of heavy and special weapons marines to clear the enemies systematically.

"Now stormbirds everyone for the glory of the 8th grand company and our captain may you bathe in blood"
_________________________________________________________________

Cheetah kicked at the dirt his every move riddled with impatience yet Jag was motionless and serene his eyes fixed upon the descending ships. The first 5 were huge, gross bellied metal monsters, cattle farms that held thousands of cultitsts, all eager and screaming for death in the name of their gods. They saw themselves embroiled in rapturous ecstasy bathing in the glory of the Iron Warriors. They never realised they were little more than cannon fodder, to disarm mines quickly and ruthlessly

"Show them no mercy"
muttered the marine watching the swaying ship as the pilot struggled to slow his descent and he watched several sets of landing gear emerging slowly from the gross underbelly and the ship became a gross pot bellied spider. Their was bump as the pilot failed to slow the descent enough and the ship was lifted upwards only to come to rest 20 yards from the unflinching Jag who drew a long sword from his stepping backwards to allow the ramp to descend. 

The ships stood there gross maws opening slowly with the sharp his off decompressing pistons and fanatical screams floated through the air, along with sharp squeals of fright and pain as cultist that had lost their footing were trampled as the eager mass swelled at the ramp, bursting at the seems desperate to rush forward crying the name of Perturabo, ready to die with his name on their chapped and bleeding lips. 

The ramps kicked up dust as they hit the ground and the masses inside the ship swelled and then exploded charging down the ramps towards the waiting marines who stepped aside allowing the tidal wave of shrieking forms to pass through them... out of the cornor of his eye Jag saw Cheetah on the ramp arms out stretched and heavy bolter aimed on the cultists and the standard of third planted upon the ramp. 

He could see the cultists swelling with anticipation yet they were wary of the marine that stood before them and Jag shook his head as he saw his brothers eyes were full of laughter.


"Quickly please.. now you'll all get to the fortress if you just form a single line and stop pushing... yes i agree blood for the blood god and yes I know everything changes but if you dont stop pushing I will change your face"

"Cheetah" Jag's voice was laced with a deadly poision and the cheeky grin left his face and he raised his voice.

The two marines hollered the same words, there voices mingling and others took

"To the fortress.... tear it down in the name of Chaos in the name of Perturabo.... Iron within Iron without" hollored Jag thrusting his sword into the air and there was a roar as the cultitst surged forward charged with energy once more. they surged over the hill bursting into the minefield and Jag watched them go with cruel satisfaction as there was a sudden explosion and a body was tossed high into the air spiralling in a sickening cartwheel before falling.

"Follow them, make sure they go all the way through" shouted Jag and the possessed and chosen surged forward. "We will set up a centre of operations on the hill, once the cultists are through the minefield set up spotting positions."

Jag watched Victovious move away but he called him back
"Your in command of the spotters... I want you to make sure we have scoped the walls for defences and then I want good firing lines. Coordinate with Zamiel"

He watched the possessed marine slash down a cultist and he winced

"Co-ordinate with the little bastard as best you can. if he gives you any trouble I know sabre has been dying to shoot the bastard with his railgun and wipe the cocky little smile off his face."
_________________________________________________________________

Lynx's stomrbird lurched as the pilot cut the engines and allowed himself to drift into the hanger and land gently upon the deck of the hanger. From the vision screens Lynx could see the majority of third comapny standing, in four blocks each near a group of ancient stormbirds and newer thunderhawks all bearing the same mark, the mark of third. 

No sooner had the ramp hit the ground then Lynx was upon the deck helm in one hand the other reaching out to clasp Sabre's might shoulder. The marine bore his terminator armour with a deadly grace as he moved to meet his captain twisiting his railgun to better embrace his captain

"All ready and set?"

"I just briefed them..." the giant terminator moved from behind his back and he saw it encased Lynx's plasma cannon in its mighty grip. Lynx took it gently and weighed it in his helmetless hand feeling it strain against his muscles as it followed its desire to hit the ground

"welcome home old friend" he muttered as he curled his wrist to slip his finger through the trigger.

He turned to the waiting marines that snapped to a salute as his gaze feel over the groups and over the giant terminators that stood apart, towering over the other marines. He nodded to Sergeant Ironfist and mentally made a note that he had to discuss the possessed with him later. Yet now he saw the marines before him, looking at him with adoration and loyalty, yet they needed inspiration.

"Today we will be the only company fighting this war on 4 fronts. Those that look out from the walls will be cut down by our lascannons and plasma cannons. Through each breach our warriors will poor and the insignia of 3rd will be impressed upon the memories of our enemies. It will be the titans the breach the walls and the other companies that push through yet when the attack stalls it will be us that break the backs of our enemies. It will be us that broke the hope of the enemies when the assault seemed to stall. it will be us that chaos remembers, it will be us our Lord remembers. Now forward in the name of the 8th... into the transports.... Iron within..."

"Iron without...no foe is invinvcible" echoed his brothers... the legionnaires that would die for him... and would not fail while he still held breath


----------



## Lord of the Night

Edrad jammed his rotting talons through the chest of a Cultist, who dared to retreat, he then turned to see his fellow Astartes arriving. "Lord Zamiel, the regular Astartes arrive" he spat out, along with a hunk of blackened pus. Zamiel turned to see the armoured Terminators of the Grand Company arriving and sneered, these arrogant men who thought that bulkier armour made them better then the other line soldiers that Zamiel called allies. Zamiel let a wide devious grin spread across the shadows that obscured his face, a red maw against the blackness, as he imagined wrenching the self-righteous whoresons out of their armour and showing them their weakness

"I was unaware that the mighty Terminators of the company felt the need to leech off our glory. Can't find your own cattle to massacre so you come to steal ours" Zamiel shouted over the death cries of the cultists as his squad drove them into the guns of the enemy.


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus walked from the briefingand went straight to his squads armoury.
"Lupax, Jiser and Quar get those Jumppacks on quickley, Grimo grap that Power fist, everyone on your feet and prepare for a combat drop!" He yelled at his squad before straping on his own pack then ducking out of the room and sprinting down the corridor towards his Captains quarters.
Almost as soon as he started running he smashed into a Traitor Guardsman of the Third regiment and the Troopers Lasgun went off glancing off of Maximus's Jump pack.
This Pack had served him for over two thousand years and he was understanderbly angry when it was damaged, even somthing as small as a lasgun shot, He roared in anger and threw the Guardsman across the corridor into a wall.
He looked at the pile the man had crumpled into and saw that he had survived, Maximus looked down at the Troopers Jacket and name-tag <Sergeant Flezino> "Well Flezino, you will live today" With that he left the sergeant and sprinted to the Captains quarters.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel grimaced at the Terminator leader's audacity.

"You give me orders stripling?!, I do this only because it will lead to a bloodbath" he voxed. Zamiel let out a roar that could shatter glass and make the lesser beings bleed from the ears, the Cultists began running into the breach while the Possessed squad kept them going. Zamiel quickly ran after them, easily keeping up so that he could see where the heavy weapons teams were positioned.

As the cultists were cut down by auto fire and las fire Zamiel's witchsight allowed him to pick out the heavy weapon teams that were keeping the other astartes pinned down, no challenge. He broke into a sprint, using his wings for thrust to carry him across the ground while his squad sprinted to catch up, and leapt right into the midst of the teams. He grinned and lashed out with his talons, decapitating a guardsmen, then following through and shredding his partner's face and opening up his chest. Zamiel's tail then struck out at a guardsmen behind him, impaling the whelp through the chest then tearing him in half. One guardsmen turned his autocannon and prepared to fire before looking up to see Edrad staring down, Edrad's maw opened and engulfed the guardsmen's head, crushing it into a pulp. Riggonen, Dariula and Meskias had arrived and were tearing apart the Guardsmen who came to face them, and ran from them screaming in terror.

"For Chaos!" Zamiel roared as he ripped a Guardsmen's arm out of its socket, the other Possessed quickly repeated his chant.

"For Chaos!"


----------



## Euphrati

Severus cocked his eyebrow at Redivivus’s statements, the Obliterator’s very nature made reading between the liquid growl of his voice difficult. Making it almost impossible to judge if the blessed brother was truly serious or merely, and rarely, showing the humour that lay deep within his astartes mind. 

Before Severus could dwell upon the topic further, the warp-portal pulsed and the booming voice of the Dark Apostle filled the chamber. The Iron Warrior felt what could only be pride pull itself from deep within his being as the daemon prince spoke of his plans and the place in which Severus had in them. Severus had studied the data on the planet extensively and the left flank of the outlying bastion was prime ground for his forces. Coupled with the power of the titans, his men would be the dagger that slipped through the ribs and into the heart of the imperial forces.

Upon conclusion, the portal shimmered and shrank back to the pulsing rift that it typically was. Severus’s mind was already planning even as he turned to the Obliterator at his side,

‘We have been blessed, brother. The flank suits us well,’ he could feel the hunger beginning to grow in the back of his mind, the thunder of the guns already a ghost-echo in his ears, ‘I will want you at my side to the fore Redivivus, though I shall leave the deployment of your brothers to your discretion. When the titans breach the wall, the imperial dogs will feel the might that is the second. Have your men join me in my stormbird, I must have a word with Thel before I join you.’

With that, Severus left the Obliterator to his own devices and turned to stride across the room where the Princeps stood. Severus ignored the flock of men around the Titan Master, pushing through them without a thought to stand before the human,

‘Princeps,’ the low growl of his voice caused some of the others to start, but a faint smile pulled at Thel’s thin lips,

‘Captain,’ Thel’s voice was a low whisper, so unlike the soul-shaking roar of his god-machine, ‘I expected you attentions; _Ater Mortis_ and _Ignus Bellum_ will walk with your men.’

Severus gave a low growl of pleasure; Pinceps Gervod and Jeriad were both calculating and pitiless as their war machines,

‘My gratitude for your selections, Princeps, they suit me well,’ Severus gave a curt nod of salute, ‘Walk with wrath and strike without mercy.’

Severus did not wait for a return of his blessing, turning on his heel to march from the room in a thunder of steps and hiss of hydraulics. At a thought, he opened a vox-link to his chosen Captains and Sergeants,

‘*Brothers of the second!* Our Prince has spoken and we have been blessed!’ Severus let his hungry for the coming siege flow freely in his words, ‘Ours shall be the left flank to split open and rip the heart out of these worthless dogs of the corpse-emperor. The ground suits us, for there is a ravine that snakes from north to south and spills out into a flood plain. The war-machines _Ater Mortis_ and _Ignus Bellum_ will be with us to bring the wall down and I will lead us in. Kerias, you will be to my right. There is a rise upon which your men will have unobstructed view of the wall to support the Titans as well as lend fire to the main gate if needed. Maximus, your men will be to the left, the ravine will give your bikes cover to within striking distance of the gap. When the Titans assault the wall, I want your raptors ready to take the defense guns and turn them back upon the bastion itself. Corius, your men will be with me and Redivivus in the shadow of the Titans. When the wall goes down I want your terminators through the breach before the dust settles,’

Severus gave a low chuckle as he moved through the mighty ship towards his quarters,

‘The Black Apostle has placed the half-blood mongrel and his company in the back where he belongs, his men will be handling the cultist rabble and watch as the true warriors take their blood first. He can have the scraps after we are done,’ 

Severus stepped into the darkness of his personal quarters, the bare iron walls a reflection of the hard mind that dwelt within them. Crossing the room, he hefted Oathbreaker, feeling the skin-bound haft creak under his grip, and Shattersoul from the altar where they lay. The shield gave a low whisper of hunger and Severus brought it up to his face to lick the blacken surface of the skull, tasting the bound deamon’s lust for blood and destruction in the metallic bite that lingered upon his tongue,

‘The second needs no aid from that _whoreson_, and I will have the skull of any man that gives him reason to look our way. Ours is the middle launch bay, I want all ready and gathered within the hour. The Obliterators will be with me in my stormbird, Corius’s men will take the other. The rest of you have the thunderhawks. I will be adjusting our forces as I see fit when we make landfall. *IRON WITHIN*.’

With that he cut the link and turned to make his way to the bay, intercepting Maximus as the warrior rounded the corner and giving him a feral grin,

‘You please me with your alertness at the briefing and readiness, Perciuos. I am counting on your speed upon the ground as well. I would hear your thoughts as to the words of our Prince,’ his grey eye cuts through you like a blade, it is rare that Severus gives hint of praise… what are you going to do? 

(My men, you have your orders, speak with your squads and make your way to the launch bay. I will interact with any who chose to speak further with Severus as he will be moving directly to the bay in order to keep an eye upon everything.)


----------



## Captain Stillios

"I must confess that although the left flank is good for my bikes, I would have preferred the right, as those mountains are perfect for my squad to jump over the enemys lines" Replied Maximus as he and Severus moved to the lauch bay shoving many Guard to the ground.


----------



## Euphrati

(ooc- thank you bav for giving us a little bit more time to work on the interplay of the characters. I will get my men down to the surface very soon and into place)

Severus glanced over his shoulder at the astartes of his company, the deep red of his bionic eye burning like a dying star. He was silent for a long moment as if waiting for something, the only sound was the heavy tread of the boots as he continued on the path that would take him to the bay. When he finally spoke his voice was a low, dangerous growl,

‘I do not recall asking for your opinion of *MY* orders, Sergeant Perciuos, merely your observations of the Black Apostle’s plan for this planet. But, since you find the need to question them…’ Severus turned a corner and stepped through the massive portal and into the cavernous loading bay, 

‘Deploying your raptors to the right upon the rise will put you in the direct line of fire of three of the defense turrets, as well as it would impede the aim of Kerias’s heavies. To my left you will be shielded by the Titans from all but one of the main guns as well as being allowed freedom of movement up to the very moment of attack.’

Severus cut a straight line across the cable-laced floor of the launch bay, heading for the brutal form of his command stormbird. The Iron skull that adorned the ancient craft was wreathed in a halo of black flames, its dark sockets staring down at the menials and cultists that rushed to ready the craft,

‘If such an _honour_ is beneath you… Sergeant Tavin has been showing promise lately. I am sure that he would be willing to take your place.’


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Severus, as you ready your men in the bay you feel a presence behind you and turn to see Aresk making his way toward you, his face twisted into a scowl. As he reaches you several of your men bow thier heads at him and he waves his hand at them dismissively before speaking, *"Brother we must speak on a certain matter." * Indulge him or not it is your choice, why would he come and speak with you when he knows that the both of you have to be planetside soon? Those of you in the Second if you are present on deck you will see this confrontation, what could the captain of the fourth want with you captain?


----------



## Necrosis

Vicitous look at his squad. "He have our orders. We need to spot the defenses of this fort, that's why the cultist are here. We will of course stay a bit behind the cultist. Let their blood flow. They must prove themselves. Once this mission is done, see if they are any surviving cultist. I'm sure we can use them for something. Also don't attract any attention. I don't want to get involve with any internal conflicts are legion is having. It does not take a sorcerer to figure out that their are some within our Legion." said Vicitous as he then ordered his squad to stay behind the cultist. "Make sure not to be seen by the enemy. They must now know of my presence." said Vicitous as he began analyze the fort and it's defenses.


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus could see he had angered his captain and quickley knelt "Forgive me lord, I did not seek to critisise it was mearly an observation on my part as I was unaware of the guns positions" He quickley said


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius smiled beneath his toothed helmet. He would accompany their glorious Capitan into battle! What's more, they would be the first across the breach. Oh the death they would wreak! Corius could taste the blood. As he walked back into the sacrifice room, he could still see the last embers of the flaming sacrifice he had left. The whole body had turned black and grey, apart from the skull, which had become a polished white.

Ares, Celux, Desin and Mithras walked in moments later, as he had instructed them to. He had made a point of being there before them. A good leader was always prepared before anyone even knew what pieces they were using. He turned on his heel to face his Brothers, and smiled. These were his most trusted assets, if anyone was going to serve him well, it was these men. "See you finally silenced that whore son of Dorn!" Celux remarked with a taste of disgust. Corius quickly glanced back and remarked "Yes, apparently Khorne found him a fitting sacrifice!". Ares caught him breath at the mention of the Lord of Skulls, being partial to Tzeentch made Ares nervous that Corius might devote himself to Khorne and wish to...dispose of him. "Easy Ares, just a pre-battle habit. I still am devoted to the glory of Chaos as a whole."

Corius breathed in a deep breath to deliver the news to his men. "Brothers, we have our orders! We are to accompany our Capitan into battle. We are to walk beneath the mighty God-machines of _Ater Mortis_ and _Ignus Bellun_. We will be the first into the breach." he could feel his men get giddy with promise of such glory, and Corius himself let out a quite hiss of anticipation, but he needed to give them specific orders, ortherwise their assault would fail. "Ares! Celux! You will be at the back of the squad, where your range will be to our asset. Mithras! Desin! You will be in front Ares and Crux using your limited range weapons and powerful gauntlets to kill anything that escapes their fire."
"Forgive my frontness Sir, but where exactly will you be?" Mithras questioned.
"Me?..." at the thought of his statement he ran his tongue over every perfectly sharpened tooth in anticipation "...I will teleport through the breach as the final shot is fired! I will appear in the midst of the fire and death like a daemon of old. Does that satisfy you Mithras?"
"Yes my lord"
"Good. I want you on me as soon as I go. 10 seconds and I want you in there. Severus want the glory to be for the 2nd, and not for anyone else. If we fall behind, we will be left there. We cannot, and we will not fail! For we are Iron warriors! IRON WITHIN!"
"IRON WITHOUT!" they all replied
"Now come, Severus is not a patient man, and will not wait for us. Let us show him what we are capable of!" And with that Corius and his men made their way to their hanger where their Stormbird was waiting. On their way there, Desin commented "It is unusual to see you adorn your helmet my lord! Why, if I may ask?"
"Because, Desin, I am not ready to be one with Chaos just yet. There will be much fire going on inside the breach, and I do not want a pathetic False-Emperor-loving scum taking the glory for a lucky shot. In time, I may receive ceremite scales, by the Oblitorators doing or a work of the Gods, but until such a time, I don't wish to become a trophy on some fools belt!" And so the kept moving until they reached the hanger, in which they saw may servitors and slaves moving loads about. Corius immediately spotted Serverus and walked up to him crossed one arm over his chest and bowed saying "My lord, it is and honour to be serving with you." trusting his squad would follow his lead and bow, whilst he waited for a response...


----------



## Lord of the Night

(My last post in the breach is invalid. The walls haven't been breached yet.)

Meskias slithered through the rocks, his twisted body contorting and bending at unnatural angles to allow him passage through the tight rock crags. As his head peered out of the crag his eyes widened in anticipation, a small camp filled with Guardsmen lay ahead, no doubt a forward position to alert enemies of attackers. He slithered back in and crawled back to Zamiel who was awaiting his return. "Meskias, report" Zamiel ordered harshly.
"My lord I have found a small camp of humans, perhaps a taste of what is to pass shall calm you down" Meskias offered, his distorted and unnaturally wide mouth smirking. Zamiel grinned, or what passed for a grin on the shadows of his ethereal mask.
"Yes let us massacre them, move out" Zamiel said, he intoned a brief blessing from the Chaos Gods onto him and followed Meskias through the rocks to the outskirts of the Guardsmen camp.
"On my signal, leave none alive" Zamiel whispered. Meskias nodded and looked behind them, Riggonen, Edrad and Dariula were catching up. Zamiel slinked forward, crouching into a low run, and climbed over a boulder, he looked down to see two Guardsmen, unaware of his presence. He leaned down until he was directly above them and let out a small snarl, as the Guardsmen looked up in horror Zamiel reached down and crushed their heads into mush with the palms of his claws. He let out a roar which not only alerted his squad to rush forward into the battle but every guardsmen there of their presence.
"For Chaos!" the squad screamed as the daemons took full hold of them and their presences became full. Edrad cannoned into a group of Guardsmen and started beating them to death with his rotting fists while Riggonen used his claws and teeth to hack his way through the fodder. Mouths emerged on Meskias's body and the palms of the elongated, spindly things that were his hands, which then spewed fire that changed colour nearly every instant, which reduced Guardsmen to ash and bone, while some mutated into slobbering animals that quickly burnt away from the heat. Dariula let tentacles burst forth from his body that engulfed Guardsmen and tore them apart, one strayed too close and Dariula let his serpentine head bite down on the Guardsmen, hauling him into the air before biting him in two. Zamiel used his talons to shred Guardsmen apart, slitting their throats and crushing them as they fell, or bisecting them and tearing them into smaller pieces. Very soon no Guardsmen were left alive, only the Possessed marines, the remains of their armour caked in blood.
"This isn't nearly enough. Keep the probe up, find the locations of all the guns and report back to me... GO!" Zamiel said, shouting at the last words as the squad lingered, still reeling from the brief fight. They sprinted off in different directions while Zamiel sat down against a rock and admired the brief but enjoyable slaughter that had taken place only scant moments earlier.


----------



## Euphrati

Severus allowed Perciuos to remain kneeling for a long moment before waving him up, nodding to Aresk in acknowledgement of his fellow captain,

‘I want you to commit this moment to memory, Sergeant, and let it be a reminder to you always that I am not incapable of generosity,’ Severus growled in a voice that echoed like the thunder of distant guns, ‘Now, go and see to your men so that we may join our brothers already upon the surface.’

With the raptor leader dismissed, Severus turned to the approaching Terminator leader,

‘You have never failed me, Corius, and today I expect no less. Be alert to any flaw when we touchdown, that halfblood mongrel is already planetside and undoubtedly his men have fouled the landing zone with their very presence.’

The towering captain finally turned away from the hustle of his men, striding over to the shadow of his stormbird where Aresk awaited with a scowl etched deeply upon his features. He made no effort to lower his powerful voice,

‘I know you have not come seeking me on the eve of battle without reason, Brother-Captain,’ Severus’s storm grey eye narrowed in inquiry, ‘Speak your mind, my true brother…’


----------



## Prothor Ironfist

There was a flash of light on the ground of Elisia IV as Ironfist and his brothers reappeared from their brief transport through the warp. All around them thunderhawks and a fewer number of stormbirds were touching down and depositing their cargo of troops onto the surface of the latest planet to face it's doom at the hands of the 8th grand company.

Before he had left the decks of the Iron Will he had been told by Sabre one of his captains most trusted brothers that he was to follow 1st company down the middle. He had also been told to his disliking that he had to put the posessed dog Zamiel under leash and make sure he didn't get out of line. 

Although he could think of better ways for himself and his brothers to be used rather than handlers Ironfist would not question the word of his captain for he obviously had a reason for this that he had not fathomed yet.

"Cylonos requesition us a transport and he will track down our lords hounds." Ironfist smirked as he ordered his brother enjoying the thought of once again getting to ruin the fun of the daemonkin and his rabble.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Severus; Aresk spits before speaking to you, his smooth skin face and yellow eyes twisted in disgust, *"I am at a loss as to what should be done about this mongrel halfbreed brother. As if it couldn't get any worse that he was made captain of the Third, he now is to back all of our companies up in the coming assault."* he pauses as he notices your look but continues, *"Tell me you do not feel safe having his men protecting yours? You know the honor that our lord Vilhelm puts on such a job, someone who he knows is good enough to handle three fronts, the slap in our faces is evident. While I do not question our lord's choices I feel that something must be done about this bastard before he does something to US. You have heard of Honsou, that halfbreed even had Forrix killed, FORRIX Severus."*

As he finishes his rant it becomes apparent to you that Aresk wants Lynx out of the way or even killed. As you respond you notice Barok watching the two of you from the ramp of his own Thunderhawk, his massive Olympian Terminator armor full of battle honors and his craggy scared face devoid of emotion. Did he hear what Aresk said to you, and you to him in reply? If so how do you think he would feel, would he be the one to tell the Apostle or to let it go for he is the Captain of the First and has been since before the heresy.

Arkias; Shamesu stares down at you with his icey blue eyes that seem to bore into you, *"Arkias, your mission is one of great import and needs to be done quickly. Once the rest of our brothers are planetside we will begin the assault, there is a bastion behind that wall,"* He motions with his power drill toward the wall in the distance, *"It has a shield around it that will prove most.....troubling when Captain Lynx and his brothers attempt to destroy their guns. The Apostle and I want the shield gone before the breaches are even made, it is imperative that this is done quickly. I will vox you once we are inside the wall and at that time you can move away from the generator, I do not want the Imperials to fix it. After this you can help in destroying the guns, speed and stealth are what we need now Arkias, that is all."*

Shamesu turns his massive chassis and makes his way away from you. The bastion will have A LOT of men inside it so dont kill anyone unless you absolutely must, you will not reach the generator until i post the update for the beginning of the assault. You are going in without knowledge of where this thing is so it will take you some time, most of all have fun sneaking around.


----------



## unxpekted22

Eisen and his squad were all making their way back to their personal quarters together, ready to pout the whole way through the battle still on the ship as they had not been told to prepare for the drop.

Upon passing by the launching bays Eisen sees three of the four company captains there, Severus of the second standing by his own captain Aresk, as well as Barok being present.

Eisen tells his squad to follow him and they all do so obediently.

"_Quickly, into formation!"_"

He and his ten chaos marines march toward the docked thunderhawks, approaching behind Aresk Eisen and his squad drop to their knees, holding their weapons horizontally just above the floor, or hung neatly over their knee.


Eisen bows his horned helmet to his captain and speaks with his face to the ground,_ "My Captain, I do not know why my squad was not chosen to be a part of this glorious assault on the Imperials. I come to ask you in person, for me and my men want nothing more than to serve you once more in taking this planet from the wretched hands of the self proclaimed pure. 

I know I am a young warrior to this company, and inexperienced to many who take part in this campaign... and perhaps you do not even know of my existence yet. But I am here my lord captain, and I request to take part in this planetary assault. I am addicted to the blood of our enemies.

If am not allowed to take part, I must ask why, if the answer should be that I am simply not good enough for this mission, then me and my men shall respectfully take our lives before you."_


----------



## dark angel

Arkias had left the briefing immediately, leading his Squad past fellow Iron Warriors mostly from the Third Company. He saw a Squad of Possessed, vile things that did not have the right to land eyes upon him, attacking a small camp before splitting in their own directions. He hated those had gave themselves to the Chaos Lords like these, with only Vilhelm and Shamesu attaining some form of respect that was also mixed with a grudging fear. 

He did not care for the wave of gunfire ripping around his Squad as they remained completely hidden within the shadows of a overhead Battleship, rendering them invisible to all but fellow Astartes who even them struggled to catch a good glimpse of the Silent Ones. Each had drawn their twin short blades from where they rested upon their thighs, Arkias not wanting to give away his position so early on. 

The wall ahead began to loom. Spikes covered its surface, as did what seemed to be razor wire however Arkias knew that was a mere manufactured tangle of mess that would struggle to even cut his bare skin. Then they broke into a sprint. Each Marine ran forwards towards the wall, leaping as they did so and embedded their weapons into the rock, slowly they began to lift themselves upwards. 

The Silent One stopped at the top of the wall and grabbed the webbing of a Guardsmen, pulling him over the edge and sending him toppling below. The five figures pulled themselves up, and immediately went down into a crouched position as they scanned the surrounding area for any signs of enemy targets. They found none and with a single fluid motion leapt into the Bastion beyond, leaping across the walls between them. 

Twice Tartarus slit throats, sending squirming bodies toppling over the wall below. They knew what they were looking for, and knew they would need to avoid detection.


----------



## Concrete Hero

'_As you wish, Captain_' Redivivus watched Severus leave, though his attention was quickly redirected. The shimmering Portal-speaker of Vilhelm's flickered and shrank away to nothingness, leaving an air of expectation in its place. The various authorities in the room went about their business, contacting their subordinates. The Vox traffic -even the supposed private channels- all buzzed through his mind as he received their signals. Minor notes were taken, though much of it disregarded as the hulking Obliterator pulled himself from the shadows.

The Daemonic inner workings of his mostly mechanical body whirred and hissed as he became mobile, before settling down to a soft background humm. The Obliterator left the room without another word or gesture. 

As he walked, Redivivus opened a channel to the other member of his Cult. 

'_Brothers, we are landing with the Second, accompanying Captain Pyrrhus. I would have you land with me, the situation will be assessed and evaluated upon landing_'

The mechanical hiss of Pangorax replies first, followed by the throaty grind of Falcis

'_Yess Redivivuss_'

'_As you wish_'

Redivivus ended the transmission with a click, breaking the deathly silence of the corridor with something more than his thunderous footsteps.

Though there was no formal leadership amongst the Obliterators, Redivivus had held the most senior Techmarine placement before their transformation, had been the first Obliterator of the three and was somewhat larger than his Brothers. Because of this, or perhaps some longing from the past days, Redivivus held the position of rank amongst the cult, though the fact was never questioned or raised. 

The Obliterator took a longer route to the launch bay, preparing his mind for the upcoming conflict and his place in it. Despite his diversion, it wasn't long before a pair of great iron doors hissed open to all him passage to the Bay.

In the preparations for landing, the Launch bay was a hub of activity, full of moving Marines, droning servitors and cackling, broken minded Cultists. He saw Severus speaking to his fellow Captain Aresk near their transport; a truly ancient Stormbird. The shadowy figure of Barok seemed to be watching the pair, though he couldn't particularly tell from here, nor did he care. He swept his eyeless gaze out over the Bay, noting Falcis and Pangorax enter from another great pair of iron doors.

The Obliterators strode across the walkways to meet him, paying no heed to the various forces of Chaos they shunted out of their way. The Cult exchanged silent words, the flashing of glowing eyes the only sign the trio were conversing to those standing by. Both were mighty in stature, of similar size and shape to Redivivus, but with minor and characteristic changes. Both were slightly shorter, but the hissing Pangorax appeared as a Daemonic parody of a Knight of Old. His head was that of a Grilled full faced Helmet, with the same glowing eye sockets as Redivivus. His armour had twisted to resemble overlapping metal plates. Falcis appeared as a more bestial incarnation. Though clad completely in metal as his Brothers. His head was fashioned as a snarling daemonic face, his fang locked together in a tight embrace, with four curling horns sprouting from his skull.

Eventually the Obliterators broke their Silent vigil and strode to the Stormbird transport. The imposing trio halted a respectful distance away from Severus, merely announcing their presence rather than intruding on the conversation.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Eisen; Before Severus can answer Aresk your captain turns to you his black hair and menacing yellow eyes boring into you, *"I know who you are child, I know every brother in my company. What makes you think that you have not been chosen to take part in this asault? A message was sent to the whole company to ready for the coming battle, I would not expect a mistake like missing this message from one as eager to please as you."* he stares at you for a long time while you think on what he has said realizing you did get a message earlier and simply forgot.

*"Ready your men Eisen, I will need you at your best once the assault is started, Iron Within."* Aresk nods at you and you feel invigorated knowing that your captain has put much faith in you to let you onto the field of such a great battle. While you were chastised you know it was for a good reason and that you will atone for your mistake with the enemy's blood. Ready your men and head to Hangar Bay 5 and get on your Thunderhawk transport which will take you planetside for the coming assault. You see Captain Barok of the first standing off watching Severus and Aresk, if you want speak with him or leave him be, how do you feel being around such a peerless warrior of old? His Olympian Terminator armor would dwarf you in size.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel rose from his reverie as he sensed his kindred approaching. Surely enough the Possessed marines came bounding back, each one with the information they needed. "Do you have what I need, or will I be venting my frustration upon your hides this day?" Zamiel asked.
"Of course lord. Here" Meskias said with a rictous grin, offering several data-slates that when combined would create a perfect layout of the fortress' exterior.
"Lots of human fodder, much killing" Edrad gargled, letting his long blackened tongue out to lap at a series of scabs and boils along his arms. Zamiel nodded and wordlessly commanded the Possessed to follow.

Soon the Possessed arrived at the companies landing zone. "Ironfist!" Zamiel barked as he approached the Terminator, unphased by his bulky size, Zamiel himself only being a inch or two shorter and with his wings included he was actually taller. "This jest of an assignment is completed. When do we attack the enemy, I long to crush this fodder beneath my talons" the Possessed said, a cruel smile spreading across the shadows passing for his face. The other Possessed approached, similar cruel smiles spreading across their faces.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius' cold heart burned with pride at Serverus' words. A reputation of perfection was a great thing to boast of indeed. But that did increase the pressure upon him and his men, but that did serve to motivate them to excel. "Yesssssssss, my Lord. we will not let the whoreson take the glory from the second!". Corius took Serverus' talking to the captain of the first as the conversation was over and turned to his men. "We have work to do! And we will not fail our captain."
"No sir!" was the resounding response.
"The let us make ready to prepare the way for our lord!" And with that Corius and hismen walked into the stormbird and prepared to drop, and let the slaughter begin...


----------



## Euphrati

Severus reveled in the hate that his brother-captain carried in his heart, a vicious smile splitting his features. Aresk was rightfully angered by the elevation of the cur and Severus could see the wrath burning in his brother’s dark eyes; it would only take the right push, the right application of words at the precise moment to turn those smoldering flames into a firestorm.

Pyrrhus was collecting his thoughts to reply when one of Aresk’s men, leading a squad, had the gall to approach the two warlords and speak without being bidden. Severus gave the warrior a baneful stare as the captain of the fourth turned to address the insolence. With Aresk occupied, Severus caught the approach of Redivivus and the Obliterators that served as his men. The blessed warrior stopped a respectful distance away, awaiting Severus to acknowledge him before intruding upon the conversation between the two captains.

Severus allowed his mouth to twist into a self- righteous sneer, knowing that Aresk would see the Obliterators and be aware of the deference the warriors were displaying towards their chosen captain compared to the actions of his own men just moments before. Severus let a long moment slip by after Aresk had dismissed his men and turned his simmering yellow eyes back to his brutal features. When he finally spoke it was a low, grating growl,

‘…_Lynx_.’

Severus all but snarled the name, his bionic eye flaring with the cold heat of rage and casting Aresk’s visage in a crimson glow,

‘The mongrel has grown beyond his means, Aresk. He thinks he is one of us! I heard what happened to Forrix, he got careless and paid the price. Honsou has the favour of the Dark Ones, Aresk,’ Severus spat a glob of black bile upon the corrugated decking where it hissed and ate at the metal, ‘_Lynx is no Honsou_.’

‘But take a moment and think, brother! Our Lord has placed him to the rear in support; he is un-trusted to take the walls! He will watch, _impotent_, as we suck the bastion dry of glory and all he gets are the scraps we leave for his dogs to scavenge,’ Severus leaned forward with hunger in his grey eye,

‘It is up to us to make certain that the cur has no reason to leap to our aid. My men have their orders concerning that whoreson whelp,’ the Iron Warrior gave a vicious smile, his fangs gleaming, and allowed his voice to trail off meaningfully, ‘Unless you have other plans in mind?...’

Severus had seen the cold gaze of Barok across the strobing lights of the bay and knew that the massive terminator could pick out his words. The Captain of the first was a heartless warrior, merciless upon the trenches and utterly devout to the Dark Apostle. Severus met his eyes briefly across the distance to acknowledge the fact that Barok was watching him.


----------



## unxpekted22

completely unaware of the rudeness in his intrusion, he and his men rose to their feet and quickly made their way to the said thunderhawk in hangar 5.

In order to get there, they had to pass by Barok..who paid them no attention of course.

Eisen, even as an astartes, had to look up quite a bit just to see the great captain's face. He stared in the direction of the other two captains, Severus and Aresk.

Eisen curled a smile underneath his helmet. He had heard some of his captain's words and caught the growl come from Severus in saying the name of the 3rd company's commander, Captain Lynx.

"looks like the siege may not only be on the pathetic guardsmen..." he thought to himself, "and there's always good opportunity for advancement in times of civil war and treachery."

He laughed silently in his throat as he lowered into the grav seat aboard the thunderhawk.

"I may be new around here, but I'm not deaf, blind, or dumb."

he looks to his squad, "Keep your heads on straight boys and try not to die....its gonna be a _hellofa_ ride!" shaking his head as he exclaimed his excitement.


----------



## Necrosis

Vicitous had gather all the info the captain would required or at least it was as much as Victous deemed engough. "Brother, open a vox and tell the captain what we found out about our enemy." said Vicitous. He didn't really feel like giving out orders or taking command. The possessed seemed to be doing a good job and he didn't want to get in a fight with them. So he would let them have their way. In the mean time he began to watch the cultist, seeing if any of them had promise.


----------



## deathbringer

The descent was, steady a meandering decrease of alittude as the stormbird piolet choose the more lapsodasical if long winded rote down rather than the screaming descent that often made the hairs stand up on Lynx's neck. Lynx sat in the the same seat of the same storm bird he had taken to reach 3rd company and he smild as he lounged between Sabre and Lion.

"Are we set?" he muttered, as the ship tilted slightly and he felt his body pulled fowards restrained by the security of the harness

Leo, sat opposite him and it was he who answered biting quickly over Lion who had opened his mouth simultaneously. There was a short chuckle that reverberated above the steady hum of the engines, the pair were to similar sometimes.

A grin bloomed over Leo's boyish features and he pulled his own mane of hair back as he responded

"The cultists are through the minefields, Cheetah is over seeing there progress whilst Jag has had Vicitous compile an analysis of the fortress..."

"Have him report directly to me..preferably by vox.... I would not care to have him invade my mind... it is" he noticed Sabre twitch a little grimace and even a tiny line of rage contorting his mouth 

"Unnverving" he finished with a small swallow 

Lion continued his power spear held across his knees and his eyes fixed resolutely upon the ceiling

"Jag is beginning to set up positions for the firing squads around the walls and he has been working closely with the Helgun's.... who are already beginning to set up in and around our firing positions to add extra support.

Lynx's forhread creased and he frowned instinctively pulling a small white bead and placing it in his ear. He linked smoothly into the pilots earpeace and barked 

"Patch me through to General Shakra Radec" 

The pilot assented without comment and there was a burst of static before their was a click

"This is General Radec... who am I addressing"

"This is Captain Lynx of third company, we have met many times yet never spoken."

He thought back to Jag's words about the general. he saw Jag's face in his mind and his voice was low an hurried as they walked together towards the meeting of the captains

"A man amongst Gods is a difficult position for any man, yet the General bears iit well. His legions fight hard and dont give up so you can bet he wont either, he is most definitely a force to be reckoned with. He will be proud and dignified and so if I wanted to gain his respect I would treat him as an equal appeal to a sense of brotherhood, and make sure you are honest and open. A friendship with this man would be as beneficial as your friendship with the princeps."

The words formed easily in Lynx's mind

"We have met several times at briefings yet unfortunately as we are often the first to ground we have never had the chance to speak. I have met and fought side by side with your men often enough in battle to know that they are the rock that the iron warriors can build from and you are the passion that sits at there core."

"However if i may be so bold as to suggest even greater co-operation between our to forces upon this mission. We are both tasked with scouting and disarming the outer wall and preparation of the assault, incidentally I must thank your regiments for the efficient creation of the drop site. I have reason to believe that Jag ,one of the veterans in my command team, is working in accordance with your men to create firing zones for both our warriors. I would be eternally grateful if we could coordinate the reports of our scouts and spotters to gain a more detailed report of the walls to be presented to Shamesu and also use our fire in coordination to disarm them quicker. Together i believe we could disarm the walls before the other legions began there assault. Consequentially, our efforts could be spent picking off those defenders that man the walls, reducing casualties during the final assault. However of course I would be delighted to hear your opinion?"

The stormbird suddenly slowed almost hovering above the ground as the pilot allowed it to drift down and Lynx added to Radec

"my compnay is now on the ground and moving to Jag's position as we speak". 

He felt two taps on his shoulder and he looked to see Sabre
indicating frantically

"We have our scout reports in" he mouthed... he turned the other way and saw Lion mouthing

"Cheetah is waiting for us"

His attention still upon the general,waiting for the mans answer he gave a small sign indicating his approval as the ship buffeted against the earth rocking slightly before coming to a halt. In the background the hum of the engines died to a small hacking cough as the turbines slowed to a halt and the hydralics of the ramp caused a stream of sunlight to flash across his face. iIt continued its slow progress revealing more and more of the word they would conquer and topple, leave burnt and desecrated in the hame of their primarch.

Using the rail above him to pull himself to his feet he gripped his plasma cannon swinging it up over his shoulder. as he moved forward. His helm swung at his waist nudging his sword gently as he ducked through the doorway to stand framed at the top of the ramp, as the other stormbirds wheeled away like disturbed crows, engines squawking in protestas they rose.

He stared at a mass of power armoured figures as they spilled out from the transports forming up before him, line upon lines of squads standing to attention in the four groups, weapons alert ready and primed. 

It was a glorious sight, almost a whole company, his company stood before him. He knew each one of them by name and by favourite weapon, like a father and his children. He wondered if that was another difference between him and his fellow captains. He was the benevolent father figure, stern when needed yet kind and forgiving.

Barosk was dark, Arkias sullen and sarcastic, Severus cruel and snappy, Lynx stern yet benevolent, with the bite of Sabre to front his wroth when it came close to breaking. He laughed alloud a long rich laugh as he looked down at his company and the honour guard stepped past him to stand infront of the block they would command in the coming battle.

He strode down quickly to embrace Cheetah who was beaming up at him and their laughter seemed to peel of the hull of the stormbird as the ramp began to close and the roar of the engines rose to a crushing crescendo.

"Jag has set a safe spot for our forces to wait and he has begun setting up places for Sabre's force with the Helghan's for the disarmament of the walls."

"You stay here with Lion and Leo.. I'll join Sabre and Jag for now"

The stormbird wheeled away and Lynx moved with Sabre and various squads toting las and plasma cannons upon there shoulders, yet though the group laughed and joked their captain was quiet. He was listening to the general's response and the scout reports... hoping by the end of the conversation he would have an ally and good news

(OOC BAV you need to play the general and tell me what my scouts have seen the third company have arrived)


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Ok after everyone has posted and is ready we will start the assault]


1st Company; Arkias after making your way over the wall and to the other side you eventually make it into the bastion unharmed, yet once inside you realize how many gaurdsmen are actually inside. You have infiltrated much thicker defenses before but for some reason you have a strange feeling in your gut, is it because you know the eve of your Lord's return is close? Or some other strange reason? You have not felt such a feeling since a large warp rift was torn open the last time the Eighth had fought the Word Bearers, so you know it most certainly has something to do with the warp. As you contemplate this you continue forward and stumble on a squad of ten gaurdsmen who blink in surprise to see you and your men. On the wall is a button that will sound the bastion's alarms, kill them all before the alarm is sounded, remember there are ten of them but make it quick lest you loose your cover.

Lucas Ironclaw you make it down to the surface with the rest of the 1st and your captain Barok. Making your way to where the massive form of Barok stands you see the ancient dreadnought Shamesu standing next to him and wonder what honor the 1st has been alloted this time. Barok begins his briefing and you learn that the 1st will once again have the honor of going up the middle and taking the wall's gates, what surprises you is that not only will Shamesu be accompanying you but that Thel himself will be aiding in this assault. His great Imperator titan the Iron Reaper can be seen at least a mile behind Barok and you wonder at its greatness and power, its huge cannons and weapons systems beginning to come online as you listen to your captain. You hear your name called and look back at Barok as he tells you that you and your men will be following him and Shamesu through the breach once it is made. This is a great honor to fight alongside ones such as your captain and Shamesu and better yet to walk with Thel's god of war, how do you feel about such an honor?

2nd Company; Pyrrhus, Aresk nods to you and heads off to his company's own hangar so that they can head planetside. You have a strange feeling in your gut that you cant quite place the cause of and it troubles you, you and Redivivus will be in the same Stormbird so get in and strap up, you do not want the second to be the last company planetside do you? As the Stormbird takes off speak with Redivivus about this feeling you have, you are both warptouched and he more so then you, maybe he feels the same way? As the Stormbird lands walk out and give your men their orders, you have already been given yours.

Redivivus as captain Aresk leaves you follow Severus into the Stormbird, you both will be flying together to the surface. You have a strange feeling in your being that you have only felt on few occassions and it makes you unnerved to say the least. You keep your thoughts to yourself and do not speak of this feeling, contemplate it, think about it, the last time you felt like this was when the Eighth had fought the Word Bearers and the sons of Lorgar had opened a large warp rift. Could it be because the eve of your Lord's return is very close and the warp is readying itself, or something else? If Severus asks you if you feel the same feel free to answer or not, it is your choice. After the Stormbird lands follow your captain out and listen to the brief he give his men.

Maximus Perciuos, You and your men enter an ancient Stormbird and strap yourselves down for the direct descent. You are the last squad in the Eighth that uses bikes still, while the rest of the fast attack groups have become true Raptors and melded with their armor and jump packs. How do you feel about being the last group to use these ancient machines and most of all the last fast attack squad that has most of thier humanity intact? You love the speed the bikes and jump packs give you yet you do not want to give away your sanity, does this make you feel weak around others that have? While you are proud to be a part of the second you know that most of the Eighth's fast attack groups are with the Fourth and Aresk, and you cant help but feel as though they are calling you to give away your soul for more power. To keep your mind off of these things you go over your battleplans and note that two of Thel's reavers will be accompanying the 2nd in their charge, the _Ater Mortis_ and _Ignus Bellum_. Think on these matters and as the Stormbird lands drive out and meet your captain to learn where you will be attacking.

Kerias Bloodeyes, as you enter one of the newer Thunderhawks you begin to miss the older Stormbird that had taken you and your men planetside for thousands of years. The bastards of Dorn had shot it down with you and your men in it in a battle almost a century ago and you have not gotten used to these newer models. As you check over your weapons and the Thunderhawk begins its descent you think on the warriors of the 3rd and how some of your brothers in the 2nd could see them as whelps. To you blood does not matter as much, and while a lot of Lynx's company is of the old breed he still has the largest amount of halfbreeds within his company. You do not care for they still have the blood of Olympia in their veins and they are long range fighters after your own heart, how do you feel when you hear your brothers talk of them in horrible ways? Does it anger you? Most of all how do you feel that the 2nd will be assaulting its own breach and that the 3rd will be doing what your usualy job is? Do you wonder what orders Captain Severus will give you? Once the Thunderhawk lands head out and meet your captain and recieve your orders.

Corius "The Serpent" Maximun, you enter one of the newer Thunderhawks and strap yourself in with the rest of your men. As the transport takes off you get a strange feeling in your gut, you are obviously warp touched and the last time you felt like this is when you had assaulted the Word Bearers and they had opened a large rift for daemons to come through. Is this feeling present because of the very immenent return of your lord the Black Apostle or something else entirely? As is with always with the warp you cannot tell but whatever it is you do not like it at all and make a note to notify Captain Severus once planetside. You are excited for this coming battle, you see it as the chance you have been wanting to earn more gifts for yourself and maybe if they fight hard enough your men too. As the descent speeds up you think on what you could possibly want and what would be useful and once he returns if your Lord would grant you one. Once the Thunderhawk lands make your way to your captain and listen to his orders.

3rd Company; Lynx, as you recieve the information that your men had gathered you can still hear the wall's guns firing at the cultists who still swarm in front of it. General Radec's voice comes over your vox line hard and rough, *"Yes I do believe we have met before captain and it is an honor as always to fight beside you. As I am sure your scouts have told you we have spotted and marked four heavily armored large gun emplacements spread out on the top of the wall itself. They have not been fired yet and our thoughts are that they are used against armor because of the size of the shells they would be throwing." *He pauses and you hear him yelling at someone and then he is back, *"Between these four guns are ten mortar teams that have been shelling the cultists and my men since we got here, their range is extensive due to their heighth but they would be easily taken out. Other then that there are two rows within the wall itself of heavey anti-infantry guns, each row consisting of twelve of these guns....for such a small border bastion it has some heavy weaponry."*

There is a long pause and some ruffling of papers, *"I will be commanding my men from the Behemoth, I look forward to seeing you on the battlefield captain." *and with that the vox cuts out. While you do not know what the Behemoth is you guess it is some sort of command tank, Jag sees your look and tells you what it is after you ask and you find out it is a Baneblade pattern super tank. It seems you might be in good with the General, get Shamesu the information you have ASAP so the assault can begin.

Vicitous Diov, as you look over the cultists you feel nothing, not a single feeling that would tell you one of them has promise. You are a bit disappointed but are suddenly struck by a strange feeling in your gut, due to your sorcerous ways you are struck almost paralytic before falling to the floor screaming in pain. As the pain subsides and your men are able to get you talking you think about what has just happened to you, the vision you had had before you had collapsed had been of a perfectly circular room with a pedistal in the middle but you cannot remember what you saw on the pedestal. You make a note to yourself that after this assault on this bastion that you must meditate and try to remember. Should you notify your captain?

Prothor Ironfist, as Zamiel eggs you on you know he desperately wants a fight. Yet you will not oblige him for you know he would never attack you first and so you let him talk because you know it will only make him that much more effective once the assault starts. As you turn to see the other companies making planetfall and landing behind you you see Vicitous Diov scream aloud and fall to the ground as if he had been shot. You find it a bit unnerving that he was suddenly struck down, does that mean there are Imperial Psykers present on this planet? Or worse Astartes Librarians? You have a strong hatred for warriors like these and have hated them ever since your first meeting with the Thousand Sons ages ago. While you find it a bit amusing that he was struck down you feel as though you should alert Lynx to the possible threat of enemy psykers. As you vox him you see the titans that will be accompanying the assault begin to march forward and the other companies ready themselves.

Zamiel the Exalted, as you goad Prothor you finally realize that he is not going to take the bait you are dangling in front of him and turn away to watch the mighty titans that will be making the breaches begin their march fowards. Four Reavers, which in your mind are big enough, split into pairs and head towards the where the Fourth and Second companies are readying themselves. What stuns you still even after all of the battles you have fought beside it is Thel's Imperator titan the Iron Reaper. The massive iron being stands so much taller then its smaller siblings and the amount of weaponry on it is absolutely ridiculous and you wonder why the Apostle is even committing infantry and some armor to this assault. While you could see why once the Eighth hits the bigger fortress for this tiny thing you feel as if Thel is simply overkill, if there even is such a thing. As you think you feel a strange sensation in your being yet you cannot tell what is causing it, you see Vicitous fall screaming and wonder is an enemy psyker is afoot somewhere. Yet at the same time you are able to place it, the last time you felt like this was when you had attacked the Word Bearers and they had opened a large rift for daemons to aide them. You had had this feeling then from the power that was about to be released, while you can place the feeling on the power of the warp you cannot tell the reason for the sudden flux, is it because of the Apostle's immenent return and that possibility that he has gotten much stronger? You feel you should notify your captain so that he can tell Shamesu just in case it is something else entirely.

4th Company; Eisen as the Thunderhawk you are in makes its descent your vox bead comes to life and your captain's voice can be heard, *"Eisen I want you and your men following me through the breach once it is made, you will be with me for this assault, now is the time to prove yourself." *the vox cuts out and the feeling of excitement within your breast is so much you feel as if you will explode. Tell the rest of your men and try to contain their reactions as you finally land and the ramp opens to let you all out. You quickly find Aresk and he has his helm on already and is directing his men to where they should be once the assault starts. He looks towards you and beckons you and says, *"We are going to be accompanied by two Reavers!"* and he points behind him toward two towering titans. He is forced to yell from all of the noise of the landing zone yet you are still able to hear him loud and clear, yet you stand in wonder at the titans that will be following you into battle. To your left you see two others in the distance with the 2nd and closer in between you and the 2nd stands the Iron Reaper, Princeps Thel's own god of war Imperator Titan. The sight of such massive beings throws you off for a second but you soon compose yourself and follow your captain to where you will be beginning the assault.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel shudders, his crimson skin rippling and shivering at this feeling. The scent of Daemons, unbound and ready to be let loose. But by whom?, the Iron Warriors did not use Daemons en-masse unlike the zealots of Lorgar and the enemies of this mudball were pawns of the False Emperor. Zamiel pushed his way past the other Astartes, uncaring of the petulant Terminator's commands and took to the sky. As he did he noticed Ironfist and realized he also sensed the ripples, seeing this as a chance to upstage him Zamiel quickened his pace.

Very soon Zamiel landed on the ground, throwing up dust as he flapped his spiked and barbed wings against the ground. He marched through the guards and came before Captain Lynx of the third company. Zamiel did not care for the man but was not about to voice any threats as he did against Ironfist.

"Captain Lynx, sir. I.. sense the warp stirring. Something is here, Daemons perhaps en-masse. Or psykers, Astartes possibly. Even the wretched Eldar would not be out of the question. I.. request to hunt them down, let me tear them apart and send their souls to Chaos" Zamiel said, as respectfully as he could muster.


----------



## dark angel

Arkias did not know what was wrong. But something was out of place. The Warp was rife here, it tingled at him, enticing his senses to reach out and tear a void to the dark territories open. He shivered at the thought of touching the Dark Powers. Vilhelm stirred. The Daemon-Prince howled in the warp, thrashed against his mental restraints and prepared to unleash his true might upon the pathetic world. 

He remembered the Word Bearers. The Sons of Colchis had fought alongside the Eighth, using vast hordes of Cult-Warriors as cannon fodder, throwing them against the walls of cities without mercy. Arkias himself had murdered a Word Bearer who questioned Vilhelm, dragging his body into the Imperial’s Domain who had been more than happy to dangle it from the high walls. 

This had sent the Word Bearers Cable of Sorcerers into a frenzy. Using their ancient Magik’s they had conjured up a Warp-Portal, destroying the city and pulling it deep within the Warp for it to be feasted upon by the Daemonic Entities within. That had just been one of the Warp Rifts he had witnessed. He had seen many more since the Great Heresy, and would see many more in times to come. 

They fell into a open room, with a large blast door to one side, a glowing red button to its side, and a giant map pinned to the wall on the other. Between the walls was ten Guardsmen. Without thinking, each Silent One threw one of their Combat Blades, striking their targets in the forehead and sending them toppling over. 

Blood and brain spilled across the floor as the remaining five Guardsmen drew short Chainswords in gloved hands, stepping forwards they began to move closer as one of them went for the red button. Without thinking, Arkias threw his second blade and cut the mans throat, sending him stepping backwards and spraying the heads of his fellows in warm blood. 

Suddenly, Vlassis and Hyakinthos leapt forwards and swing both weapons upwards, taking two men each to the roof in a wave of blood and gore. The mission would continue.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius felt something stir. It was...familiar. That was it, the fanatic sons of Lorgar had loosed the daemons of the warp, and he had this feeling then. But this was stronger, pulling him into itself. The Stormbirds inside disappeared, and was replaced with a swirling mix of colours. But two orbs of red stood out in it, and a voice that repeated, over and over "It...is...coming...". Corius was abruptly thrust back into the hull of the metal beast, panting and his tongue desperatly trying to gather the taste of the things that had taken him. He looked around at his men who either didn't notice or looked inquisitively at him. Ares spoke "Did you here it too?". Corius thought it might be Ares, being a devote of the God of Tzeentch, he would have thought, if anyone heard it, it would be him. "I heard "It is coming". Did you heard or see anything else?"
"No sir, only a whispering voice"
"Thankyou Ares, your experience willl be most...valuable" And with that Corius settled himself and prepared to land. He knew he would tell Severus of this...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the exit ramp opened, Corius and his men strode out onto the unfolding chaos of a battlefield. Oh it was a glorious site! There were lances of bright light and the Titans _Ater Mortis_ and _Ignus Bellun_ were being prepared to walk into battle. He could smell the Ozone from Lascannons and Plasma-cannons. Corius let his lightning claws slide out from their sheathes and taste the air on the brink of exploding in the glorious theater of war. However, he had been instructed to meet Severus and walk with him under the shadow of the titans. Corius scanned the battlefield looking for his commander. He could still feel the warp presence, and if he drowned out the noises of the battlefield and listened carefully, he could still here the voice. He needed to find Severus and tel him "It...", whatever it was, "...is...coming...It..is...coming... It..is...coming... It..is...coming... It..is...coming... It..is...coming..."...


----------



## Concrete Hero

Though outwardly as stone faced and unreadable as ever, Redivivus was smiling on the inside. Aresk had looked a fool in front of a fellow Captain and he, as well as those watching, knew it. What made it more priceless was the way the intruder had seemed totally oblivious to what had transpired. He stopped himself before a twisted smile broke out across his features. Before long the Captain of the 4th departed and Severus began voxing the various squads under his command. The two exchanged the briefest glance and a curt nod, he took the silent comment and the cult moved forwards to embark the craft.

Falcis and Pangorax borded first, hauling their mighty frames into the landing ship., great resonding steps echoing out as they made their way down the hull. Redivivus took a moment to admire the craft, the markings identifying it as one he had helped repair from a previous outing, some thousand years ago. Fitting ships, far more so than the boxy Thunderhawks. With a great step he pulled himself into the vessel.

He pondered to the end of the seating area, the Obliterators standing around the bracing slings normally reserved for dreadnoughts or other light vehicles. The Cult themselves were to large to occupy the ordinary seats, even the terminator fittings.

A small wave of hostility from snapped his attention back up, he could feel the anger of his Brothers mounting, especially in Falcis. 

The Disease. The Curse. The _Blessing_.

Prepared for conflict, it was hard to hide thoughts of warfare from the Obliterator. Such thoughts only served to drive the destructive instinct of their kind, pumping them into a wrathful frenzy, compulsively obsessed with Destruction in all its glorious forms. Over the years Redivivus had mastered some sort of control of the terrible (_Intoxicating_) urges, at least enough to last him on until the battlefield. The same could not be said for his Brothers. Sometimes they still struggled with the burden (_The Marvel, the boon!_). Redivivus cleared his thoughts before opening a channel between his Cult. He could almost feel Falcis seething.

'_Brothers, calm yourself._'

As per usual with their Private Vox transmissions, a greater sense of Empathy could be felt between the Cult, stronger than their normal link. Redivivus helped push his own blanket of focus over his Brothers, helping to steady themselves.

'_This isn't the time, nor the place. We will taste battle shortly. Think of this craft, a thing of true brilliance, amongst the last of its kind. Focus. Focus._' He felt a quick rise of emtion, and half expected one of his Brothers to open Fire in the tight space. Not directed at him, more to just ruin the craft from the inside. But the feeling was quickly quashed replaced by the closest thing to true gratitude they could show. 

Redivivus suppressed a rumble of impatience and glanced back to the open ramp of the ship. Before he could turn back a peculiar sensation washed over him. He saw both of his Brothers flinch at the feeling, though felt it from them more so. The feeling... The sensation was not unpleasant, though strange. Like his very being was pulsing or vibrating. Redivivus had not spared much thought to how much of his being was because of, or was made up of Warpstuff, though he knew his form owed everything to it. The only thing he could possibly link it with was their confrontation against the Sons of Lorgar. The fools had opened a great Warp Rift to aid them in battle. This feeling was just as overwhelming, though he had a measure more control than the last time. The Warp Gate torn open by the Word Bearers was mighty indeed. To feel such power duplicated here was. . . disconcerting.


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus and his squad felt a familiar lurch as the Thunderhawk fired out of the crusier and shot across the sky.
Maximus looked out of the port side window at the Captains Thunderhawk wondering who had the honour of flying with him today, "Squad mount up!" he ordered.
All of his squards bikes were in prime condition with each been looked over and repaired and altered by its driver such as Lupaxs mounted melta gun and Quars Servitor filled sidecar with mounted Assault cannon, however Maximus had only altered his bike to have a point where he could mount a Power lance and a Turbo.
As he jumped onto his bike he felt the old joy filling him with exitement "Everyone remember, we meet with the captain as soon as we land so follow me!" and then sped out of the opening ramp.


----------



## unxpekted22

"Us? Captain Aresk wants _us_ to accompany him into battle!!" Eisen bursts into a laughter of glee, "Out of all the elites in this company we get chosen my brothers!!! We shall prove ourselves indeed!" yells Eisen inside the transport to his squad.

His men wreath with an excitement they cannot contain. One of his bolter carrying troops across from him catches his eye the most; the chaos marine's entire upper body vigorously shook with excitement for the rest of the ride down to the surface.

Eisen would have told his men to settle down if he was not just as surprised. 

Without realizing it, he had been gripping his bolter so firmly trying to contain his own excitement that his finger squeezed the trigger and caused two rounds to fly out of the barrel into the wall...fortunately not killing any of his men or going through the hull.

When they landed, Eisen spotted his commander quickly. It wasn't hard, as Aresk stood out like a middle finger amongst the stubs of knuckles.

As his squad made their way to him, the ground shook under their feet. They all looked around the vast expanse of the battlefield, and the hordes of chaos forces sprawling over the surface of this world. They saw something possibly even more amazing than their Captain...Titans.

Being new to the iron warriors and the Eighth...he and his men had yet to see the great war machines of the princeps, and realized right away the word 'great' would be a ridiculous insult to their machine spirits.

regaining their focus as they approached Aresk, Eisen knelt again to his commander, waiting for him to be addressed first this time.


----------



## Euphrati

Severus watched as Aresk lapsed into a brooding silence before turning to stalk off, it was not unlike his brother to end conversations in such a fashion and Severus turned back to his own stormbird as the pitch of the engines changed. He paused for a moment at the base of the ramp, casting about the bay one last time before opening the link to his men,

‘Iron Warriors, make to your allotted crafts and shove off! I want you all planetside by the end of the hour!’ Severus turned back to his craft, striding up the heavy gangway with resounding steps,

‘Today we bring glory to the Eighth and our Lord on the eve of his return! Iron Within!’

With that he cut the link and disappeared into the darkness of the hold even as the ramp was closing behind him. The hatch sealed with an echoing clash of metal upon metal, the shadow-swathed interior pressing down around him like a metallic womb. Severus paused, a raw feeling passing over his blessed body. Soulshatter shivered on his arm, whispering in a thousand tongues all at once. Something stirred just below the fabric of reality, sending ripples across the Veil between the relms.

The sensation was familiar, old. Memories, like the far off thunder of guns, ghosted through what remained of Severus’s mortal brain. He had felt something akin to this before, decades past, when the Eighth had fought beside the fanatical Sons of Lorgar. The Word Bearers had ripped open the Empyrean amidst the clamor of battle, allowing the legions of daemons to spill forth and revel in the chaos that had ensued.

The Empyrean was near, as it was on that day so many centuries ago, and Severus could feel the warp-touched part of his being respond to it. A yearning closed around his twisted soul; the prize of full daemonhood could be his someday if he pleased his Lord, Severus already bore the mark of his Lord’s favour in the shimmering silver veins that pulsed beneath his skin for his loyalty to the Dark Apostle. His hand clenched around the haft of Oathbreaker with the unquenchable lust for power that drove him forward.

The Stormbird shivered under the heavy soles of his feet as the craft knifed through the upper atmosphere of the doomed world; the sudden physical sensation serving to focus Severus’s mind back to the moment at hand. Stepping deeper into the belly of the craft Severus could hear the rasping breath of the Obliterators; the hold seemed constricted by the four massive figures as the stood in the darkness. Redivivus’s form towered above the others and Severus approached the Blessed brother without fear, yet with a reverence he spared for only a few. His voice slipped through the darkness,

‘Soon, my Brothers, soon!’ Severus let his hunger translate into a flare of his bionic eye, bathing the hold in crimson light, before daring to lean within reach of Redivivus’s silver-fanged maw. 

‘I need not waste words with you, Redivivus,’ Severus’s voice rumbled deep in his metallic chest, ‘The Immaterium prepares itself for the return of our Lord, I can taste it in the very air, yet it seems too soon to be so strong…’

Severus let his voice trail off, even as the Stormbird banked to make its final approach to the drop zone, allowing the Obliterator to respond if he so desired.


----------



## deathbringer

Lynx placed his head to one side as he listened to the general's words through the vox bead and smirked as the general reciprocated his intentions. He was on the verge of creating another ally, two of the most powerful allies outside the astartes could only do good for the status of third company.

The description of the defences captured his interest too and he began to formulate his plans as Jag came into sight a wry smile upon his face. A small look of confusion crossed the honour guards face and he tapped his ear and Lynx mouthed "Radec" as Sabre began to bark orders sending lascannon and plasma cannon squads scattering between units of Helghun seige troops.

Lynx watched them levelling their weapons at the walls as the thunder of rounds scattered the ground infront of their lines and Lynx was impressed at how there bug eyed heads never turned and they merely studied the walls and shot furtive glimpses at the astartes melling in there midst.

The conversation was over quickly yet Lynx was already intent upon battle plans and he conveyed the information to Jag as the plans milled in his mind

"Jag call Cheetah up and get him to bring 2 heavy bolter and 2 autocannon squads up here sharpish. If those mortar are lightly armoured I would rather use the plasma cannon shots upon the heavily armoured seige guns. Now I need to report to Shamesu. I want us prepared to attack and destroy the turrets as soon as our Lord gives us the go ahead."

He moved away, striding yet there was a clatter of feet and he turned to see a winged creature landing upon the ground wings curling, as he strode arrogant face glaring around as he moved through the milling soldiers and Lynx saw Sabre's face contort in disgust and he raised a finger in warning as the terminator moved to intercept the posseseed, railgun spinning to track the moving daemon. He looked away at Lynx's subtle warning and Zamiel approached

"Captain Lynx, sir. I.. sense the warp stirring. Something is here, Daemons perhaps en-masse. Or psykers, Astartes possibly. Even the wretched Eldar would not be out of the question. I.. request to hunt them down, let me tear them apart and send their souls to Chaos" 

He could hear the forced respect in the possessed's voice and he almost snorted with laughter at the possessed's words.

"That will not be necessary Zamiel. I hardly think the eldar would be consorting with the imperium, fear the xenos and all that imperial bullshit. I believe we have joyous times to come, the warp is stirring, one daemon in particular is massing. I believe it is time for our glorious leader the Black Apostle Vilhelm to burst from the warp to lead us again. It is to be a time of celebration, we will bask in the blood of our enemies as they prostrate themselves before the black apostle. You are yet to see him Zamiel he is a glorious sight, his eyes blaze with flame and his voice is enough to send even the most stalwart of astartes to his knees. The time has come and the imperium will burn."

Zamiel he muttered

"Prepare for war...Zamiel... our Lord returns. If you wish for glory.. I want you to be through the breach behind 1st company with Prothor and his terminators" 

He turned and rushed towards the landing site, struggling to see the great blackened hull of the dreadnaught amongst the mass of astartes rushing to their postions. It was not long before he spotted the dreadnaught and the crowd parted before him as he broke into a loping trot, sliding between astartes and helghans to come before the great hull of Shamesu and he bowed his head to his Lord.

"My Lord I have compiled reports from my own scouts and General Radec and acted accordingly. We have massed mortars and four heavily armoured anti vehicle gun emplacements. I have got teams dug in ready to combat the mortars and to lay down and possibly halt the majority of the gun emplacements."

Sabre's voice crackled through the vox

"Cheetah is in position and we are prepared to attack just waiting for your word"

"I have heavy bolters and autocannons and a squad of plasma cannons lead by Cheetah trained upon the mortars, which are high up and will be torn apart by our fire. I have Sabre's railgun, Jag's ion cannon and squads of lascannons and plasma cannons trained on the gun emplacements. We are waiting for your approval my Lord"

"Secondly the warp stirs.. I assume our Lord will return to lead the assault?"

He gave a toothy smile

"I personally cannot wait to see him in battle alongside us once more"


----------



## Lord of the Night

As Captain Lynx rushed off Zamiel suppressed a snarl. Behind the first company!, behind the wretched Ironfist and his toadies!. There would be no chance for glory then. Zamiel turned and marched back to his squad who were awaiting him. He barked out orders and led them to join the first company to await the assault.


----------



## Euphrati

If the Obliterator felt differently, he kept his counsel to himself as the rest of the trip through the atmosphere was taken in loaded silence.

Severus did not push the warp-touched warrior, he had seen the destruction wrought upon countless battlefields by the rage that gripped his brethren in the heat of slaughter and knew that it took significant effort for Redivivus to hold the desire of his Cult in check this close to the promised bloodshed.

The stormbird shuttered as it banked and slowed, Severus frowned slightly. Where was the defensive fire from the planetary systems? Surely his brothers had done their duties, yet the lack of fire left a lingering doubt in Severus’s mind. Shattersoul whispered hungrily into the warm darkness as the mighty craft decelerated and brought its nose up as the ramp hissed open. The howling backwash of the engines filled the hold with the stink of ozone and scent of hot metal as the ramp lowered to display the arid landing zone their Prince had chosen.

Severus gazed out upon the broken landscape for a moment before striding down the ramp and onto the hard packed earth. The sounds of an army on the march droned all around him and the horizon was cut by the towering forms of the Titans. One of the mighty god-machines lifted its head towards the distant walls and let out a bellow of challenge that cut the sky like a peal of thunder. 

He felt his lips draw back in a vicious grin as he tasted the charged air, calling out to his warriors around him,

‘Iron Warriors of the Second! Glory is yours for the taking today! _*MOVE OUT*_!’

Severus turned and picked up his pace to a ground devouring stride, opening a vox link to his sergeants as he angled towards the left flank,

‘Report!’


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[sorry for the wait everyone, first week of school for second semester this week. this update will be in company form for me to better control the assault]

Those in the 1st Company; As the assault begins you follow Barok and Shamesu, the ground shaking as Thel's mighty titan the Iron Reaper follows behind you. Already shots are being fired from the Third Company and the Helghans who are tasked with destroying the wall's defences and hearing the guns firing kindles a fire in your bellies as you break into a full sprint toward the wall's gates. To your sides you see the Second and Fourth companies charging their positions, the Reavers assigned to them following closely and firing thier massive weapons.

You hear a loud primordial bellow and turn to see the Iron Reaper let loose with one of its cannons and the wall's gates and the surrounding area disappear in a bright white light. As the light dims you see a gaping hole in the wall and cheer as you see your captain Barok and the great Shamesu charge the breach guns blazing. Follow them into the breach and clear the surrounding area behind the wall and in front of the bastion of all gaurdsmen.

Those in 2nd Company; You follow Captain Pyrrhus as he breaks into a ground eating stride, the two Reavers behind you hooting in pleasure as they pummel the wall before you with their gigantic guns. To your left you see the First charging their breach and further in the distance you can see the Fourth's titans have already made their breach and your brothers are already pushing through it. You suddenly are flooded with anger at the though of being left behind and being the last company to pass your breach and new strength pours into your limbs.

An explosion rocks the wall in front of you and a howl of pleasure can be heard from one of the Reavers as it revels in the destruction of the wall in front of it. You can hear the other Reavers far off booming in response and the ground shaking bellow of the Iron Reaper as it adds its own voice to the chaos. Follow your captain through the breach and leave no one alive, clear the area behind the wall and in front of the bastion.

Those in the Fourth; You follow your captain Aresk as he races towards the wall. An explosion rocks the earth and suddenly there is a massive hole in the wall, around you you can hear the hooting and booming of the titans as they each make their breaches and continue to pummel the wall. Above you you see your Raptor bretheren flying towards the breach and landing on the top of the wall and tearing gaurdsmen apart before screeching and taking flight again. One of the gun teams on the wall is still firing and as it turns to fire at your captain you see two raptors land on it and rip into the gaurdsmen with their claws, howling with glee the whole time.

Follow your captain through the breach and destroy all opposition behind the wall and in front of the bastion.

Those in the Third; As the other companies begin their charges towards the wall you continue to dispatch all the guns both on top and within the wall. Around you are the sounds of war and it fills you with pride to be a part of such an unstoppable force. The titans begin booming and hooting at each other as they each blow open massive holes in the wall and you wonder at the honor the other companies have to walk with such beings in their midst.

Among you are the Helghans, their erie orange eyes seeming to mirror the smoldering fires in your hearts. They all cheer as the other companies charge their breaches and pick up and follow them, as do you for it is you that is charged with ridding the bastion of its defences once you are inside the wall. In front of you, behind the First yet not too far off in front of you, you can see a massive Baneblade variant tank in the midst of the Helghans firing its weapons systems at what is left of the Imperial resistance on the wall. Follow the other companies through the breaches and clear the bastion of its defences so that your brothers may take it safely.

Arkias; You eventually find yourself in the generator room and wonder at how massive it truly is, surely it is powering something more then just this bastion's shields and guns? You do not care but take note of its size before arming charges and setting them at the designated places and retreating to a safe corridor. You hear a massive boom followed by others a know your job is done, you can hear your brothers' warcries as the breaches are made and you itch to be out there with them. Make your way to the outer walls of the bastion and open the gates for your brothers to enter once they are inside.

[all right everyone, once you all have posted i will update you again for when you enter the bastion]


----------



## Lord of the Night

With a bone-chilling roar Zamiel took into the skies, wings unfolding from his back and slicing the air with every flap. The other Possessed followed with amazing speed, confined to the ground, each one howling and screaming. Zamiel raised his claws out, talons extending, and slammed into the walls of the enemy bastion, spearing an unfortunate soldier through the eyes, he then tore his claws outwards on both sides and spun, decapitating several guardsmen who charged him.

"DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR!!" Zamiel shouted, his voice and the unholy voice of Exaltius, the daemon within him, merged together and carrying across the entire bastion. Zamiel sprinted down the corridors, slashing through soldiers in his path and dismembering limbs, lasfire ricocheting off his armoured chest and wings.

Suddenly a loud blast rung out and shattered part of the wall in front of Zamiel, he turned to see a Leman Russ tank aiming at him. Zamiel snarled and leapt down onto the tanks hull. Slamming his claws into the top and turning it with all his strength before its firing motions finished, the second shot flew and exploded in the vicinity of a Guardsmen group, turning them into pulp. The Possessed Champion laughed cruelly as he moved his talons in a circular motion, opening a hole in the loyalist tank's armour. He slipped in, slashing sounds followed by screams rung out until all fell silent for an instant, before a section of the tank's side allowing Zamiel an exit as he ran out, the Leman Russ exploding behind him throwing shrapnel and flames into the air. The Daemonkin bellowed in victory and was joined by his squad, covered in blood.

A burst of lasfire pattered the concrete at their feet and as they turned they saw a squad of Stormtroopers firing from a ridge, their hellguns spewing death and cutting down a number of Helghan troops as they returned fire. Zamiel chuckled and leapt upwards, his powerful wings providing a thrust as he slashed the ridge away, the stormtroopers falling. As they hit the ground they rose quickly and opened fire, the Possessed shrugging off their shots like nothing. Riggonen rushed forward and rose an axe-like claw and cut a Stormtrooper from shoulder to hip then followed through and cut the head clean off another one as Edrad crushed two Stormtrooper's heads together, both becoming mashed sticks, with his mighty fists. Barbed tentacles crept out from Dariula's hands, ensnaring a stormtrooper and crushing him then allowing his head to stretch forward and engulf a stormtrooper's own head, biting it off in a shower of gore. Meskias spewed flames out, charring one stormtrooper into singed bones and turning another into a pile of melted flesh. A powerful shot rang out and took off one of Dariula's tentacles, a bolt pistol from the Stormtrooper captain. Zamiel grabbed him and held him high for all to see before pulling with his daemon-infused strength, tearing him in half at the waist, his blood pouring all over the Possessed Marine. 

"IRON WITHIN!" Zamiel exclaimed, his voice again spreading over the entire bastion. "IRON WITHOUT!" his squad replied, shouting their cry to the heavens. The whole squad then again screamed out their ancient battle cry, "IRON WITHIN!!", and listened as the entire Grand Company responded. "IRON WITHOUT!!"


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius and his squad walked beneath the mighty Titans, and Corius could feel their power which would shortly be baring down upon their enemies. The vox crackled into life, and Serverus spoke asking for reports. Although he would join them under the shadows of the titans, he daren't ignore the Captains order. "My lord, me and my men are beneath the titans. Our weapons are primed and our blades beg us for blood. The moment the wall breaks we will be in there! I do feel it necessary to tell you about a vision I had. I believe I may have been honoured with a glimpse into the warp and I saw a pair of burning eyes and words were repeated. "It...is...coming" Was all it said. Ares heard it also, but did not see anything. Do with this information what you will, but I felt it necessary to let you know if it."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The walls fell with a mighty crash and the two reavers wooted in joy. Mithras and Desin ran at the breach where the smoke was already falling to the ground and Ares and Celux were flanking them ready to lend their support to the slaughter. Corius however was way ahead of them. 10 seconds before the wall broke, Corius had noticed cracks in the wall appear, and had locked his teleporter onto the area just behind the wall. The guardsmen behind the wall were obliterated by the blast, and those who weren't, quite a few were crushed by the rubble. Those who survived were ready to rally, if they had been given the chance. 

Corius burst through the fiery inferno screaming glory to chaos. His body was bathed in the glorious fire and gave a unique strength to his warp touched body. His lighting claws glowed red hot as his stormed into the Guardsmens ranks. He was like a whirlwind of death, and the guardsman never stood a chance. Dozens died in mere moments, chests sliced open or limb severed from their bodies. But more kept pressing him. They were like locusts attacking a giant tree. Too many of them and them might stand a chance. But these were all lateral and logical thoughts, things Corius had abandoned aeons ago. He just kept going, he just kept killing more of these pathetic guardsmen.

In just a few short moments Corius' armour was a deep crimson and his blades were dripping in the blood of his foes. At this timely moment Corius heard the command squad barking orders at his men. But he had his own orders to issue "Men, form up on me!". At that moment, Mithras, Celux, Ares and Desin burst through the smoke and joined the fray and cut down at dozens of guardsmen each. "Cover me!" Corius shouted to his men as he charged at the command squad. Lasgun fire glanced harmlessly of his armour and combat knifes broke against it's plating.

There were 5 men in the command squad; the commander, a standard bearer a commissar and 2 veterans, 1 close combat and 1 ranged specialist. Corius was met first by the veteran eager to protect his commander. He wielded a cumbersome chainsword and las pistol. Corius side stepped him and sent his claws throught the base of his neck. Next was the ranger. He fires his plasma gun frantically trying to stop the monstrosity charging towards him. Most of his shots missed and those that did landed on strong points like his shoulders. However One hit the side of his face plate. The burning plasma burn through the side of it and scorched his face. Corius roared in pain and plunged his claws deep into the guardsmans chest and ripped him in two. Shaking off the the other side of of his helmet and reviled his full glory to the remaining members of the command squad. 
The commissar shouted "Warp-born heretic! I will bring the Emperor's wrath upon you!"
"Your False Emperor has lied to you! Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle and Slaanesh are the only real Gods and they are with me! I cannot be beaten!" And with that they dived at each other. The commissar fired a few shots from his bolt pistol, but to no avail. The commissar made a downward slash with his power sword but Corius side-stepped it and responded with cutting off the commisar's bolt pistol arm. The commissar roared in pain and made a clumsy sidewards slash and Corius ducked it. Striking with the speed of the serpent which he carried the mark of, Corius struck for the commissar's throat. His fangs sunk into soft flesh and unloaded a few milligrams of deadly neuro-toxins. But it may as well have been tonnes for the pain and damage it did to the imperial dog. In a few short seconds, the commissar was dead, his body overloaded with pain and anguish. Corius let his body drop from his mouth. He smiled, and the commander and his lackey knew they were dead if they stayed, so they just ran. It was a short chase, their regular human bodies couldn't outrun Corius super-human body. After he had dealt with them, he turned round and ran back to his men, ready to dive into the maelstrom of combat again...


----------



## Fumble Tumble

with a blood thirsty roar, Kerias threw himself behind a slight depression in the ground, leveling his lascannon at the wall one hundred metres in front of him, he shot and made a rough space marine sized hole in it, laughing Kerias started running towards the right flank, where he was ordered before the battle by his captain, For the glory of his squad, Kerias would reap a huge toll amoung the enemy armour, and bunkers, Baring his teeth in triumph, Kerias ordered his squad to him "Dameos take point, we are going for that hill over on the right flank, Ferinos, cover the left flank, Zaraiha, right flank, helios, brasten, and Farneas fan out on the side of Dameos, two on the left flank, one on the right, Geltas, Prestor, Selcario, center protection, i will support where needed most, IRON WITHOUT!", he roared, and laughed when his men shouted back "IRON WITHOUT!"
signaling for the run, he started sprinting towards a good view point, planning on covering his men from the enemy armour in this area, he laughed maniacally as las rounds glanced off his armour and sprayed dirt up around his feet.

Sliding into the cover of the hill, Kerias swung his weapon up onto the ridge of the hill, aiming at a Leman russ about two hundred and fifty meters on a flat strip on burnt grass, aiming down the optics of his lascannon, his augmentations judging wind, elevations, compensation, and how likely the shot was, for a shooter like him 73%, good chances, Kerias thought, making the necessary adjustments to his sighting, with a release of breath, Kerias twitched his finger, releasing a powerful burst of Ion energy, and spearing the tank right through the middle, torching the ammunition and sending an explosion rippling through the imperial dogs surrounding the vehicle sending bodies flying into the air, blood splattering over the ground, and bits of metal crashing down twenty meters for the explosion, crushing men and women underneath.
grinning he stood up, with his skin glowing a bright bright red from all the blood spilt nearby, he made a terrible sight, a glowing red giant, hefting a lascannon as if it was a toy, standing on top of a hill covered in dead imperial guardsmen, red with their blood. He roared "FOR THE GLORY OF THE SECOND COMPANY!", he laughed when the reply of one hundred iron warriors roared back, shaking the ground with their yells "FOR THE GLORY OF THE BLACK APOSTLE!"

Roaring at the defiance of these pitiful loyalists, Kerias leaped down the hill at started running down the hill, his squad in a loose triangle formation around him, he grabbed a wounded Guard officer and lifted him off his feet, before crushing the life out of the helpless man who beat and kicked at Kerias' face while he laughed before flinging the lifeless body to one side, He started running towards a small wall with a hole in the middle of it, which a few loyalists were shooting through, running at full tilt, just before he reached the wall, Kerias tilted slightly and shoulder barged the wall, obliterating it, and crushing one of the soldiers behind it under his feet, spinning around in a surprisingly graceful move for one so heavy, his fist flung out and connected solidly with a mans face, pulping it and sending fragments of bone flying outwards, crouching low, he jumped at the last one, grabbing his face and pushing him into the remainder of the wall,breaking his nose, and sending into up into his brain killing him instantly, turning around slowly Kerias saw that the breach that had been opened for the Iron warriors of the second company!


----------



## unxpekted22

the wall was broken, and its defenses shattered. Did this loyalist world really think they could stand against the might of a legion who had perfect the art of siege warfare for so many millenia?

Though Eisen couldn't say he blamed them for trying to fight back...it was only natural after all; and it wasnt like his brotehrs were planning on taking any prisoners upon surrender, not were they looking for new recruits.

or maybe they were...Eisen didnt know but all he could think about now was impressing his captain.

He had ordered his chaos marine squad in a loose circle around Aresk, a living shield following his movements. Anything that his squad missed Aresk obliterated in seconds with his massive and insanely powerful close combat weapons. As Aresk moved amongst their middle he used his ancient but deadly long range weapon to destroy those enemies that were afar, aiming for the tanks that posed the most threat.

Eisen was proud of his squad as they worked well as a unit. He had takne up curved blade that was his short sword since thwy ere charging into the enemy defensce line. More of his squad held bolters, only two had pistols and chainswords so he thought he would aid their number by using his close combat weapon as well, heading at the front of the circle several meteres ahead fo Aresk's broad footsteps, clearing the way through the weak guardsmen, carving a path for his lord. 

He wanted to be in front so Aresk would see him the most and also because he had more experience than any of the other chaos marines in his squad. He held his heavy bolter wielding brothers at the sides of the circle so they could more freely blow away the bodies of resistance around them with one of his two chainsword bearing astartes behind them.

It was all working quite well, and Eisen laughed as he slayed his enemies, nothing but thoughts of promotion going on inside his helmet and between his warp formed horns.


----------



## deathbringer

Shamesu did not dain to respond to Lynx and the captain felt nervous as the great bulk turned away.... had he angered his Lord... was something wrong or was that crumbling silence assent to proceed. He turned away bewildered and confused yet he quashed the sensations and began to push through the milling crowd back towards his companies. The walk was short yet Lynx was lost... absorbed in his own troubles... what had he done wrong?

Sabre met him a little way from their positions and the grizzled scarred features contorted into a concerned frown

"Lynx, whats wrong"

"Our Lord degined not to answer me"

Within a second Jag was at his side back straight and eyes focused

"What did you do to displease him?"

"Nothing... I merely requested permission to bombard the walls and he turned away in silence"

"what shall we do?"

"Begin the attack. Get to your men and follow my orders."

"3rd company... take aim"

All around him... his astartes began to take prone positions in hastily dug emplacements or kneeling..resting their lascannons against there might plated shoulder. Heavy bolter squads braced themselves and Lynx saw Cheetah take a step back leaning to balance himself whilst Sabre's railgun twisted as he aimed it at one of the huge gun turrets. Amidst the astartes the helghan's stood immobile... disciplined... there orange eyes smouldering like a furnace of rage and excitement. 

Lynx smiled... disciplined men

"Helghans take aim" he roared... and with quick flurried movements the Helghans readied their weapons aiming at the high walls above them and Lynx now dropped to one knee, the plasma cannon in his hand swinging upwards to nuzzle into a familiar grove upon his shoulder. He leaned and the scabbard of his sword bit into the dirt providing a support for the weight and he twisted to aim the weapon at the mortors atop the walls. He tasted the air as he felt a tiny cross breeze cuff him, a gentle caress across his face.
"Check wind" he roared

Their was a reason his company rarely missed... each warrior under lynx's command went through a ritual before the first shot was fired, a ritual that ensured each warrior was ready... tensed and aimed.. the wind accounted for... breathing accounted for... every possible factor adjusted. Around him astartes were raising fingers and adjusting there aim, subconciously tweaking their fire.

"Iron within"

Iron without came the echoing war and several Helghun figures tightened on the triggers

"Wait.... breathe" roared Lynx... countless chests rose as they held their breath ready to fire

"For the 8th Lynx roared... first round fire"

There was a hail of fire as the gones of the 3rd erupted into life and Lynx saw paused as he saw Cheetah rake his targets, heavy bolter rounds causing the mortar operators bodies to spasm under the impacts... blood blossoming like tiny flowers from the holes blown in their chests. He scanned the top of the wall and saw a pellmell group of figures straining to find cover he twitched the plasma canno upwards aiming above their heads and pulled the triggers. there was a blast of energy and lynx felt himself thrown backwards by the tremendous recoil as a torrent of plasma energy blossomed from the barrel and he looked up to see toppling figures, screaming in agony as there skin was burnt away. 

In his ear a burble of vox traffic made him grin

"Lascannons prepare second round... plasma cannons allow to cool... others aquire new targets upon the walls themselves... the assault is about to begin.. The assault is beginning"

He turned his attentions to the walls... the huge cannons were still present though one smouldered slightly from the tell tale mark of Sabre's railgun and Jag's autocannon and several gun emplacements still spat out bursts of fire at the spotters of third company. 

"Aim..... Wind... Breathe.... Fire. " A second volley spat out and a chilling scream rang out in the distance.. Then the earth began to tremble... reverberating to the boom of gigantic feet and there were roars and cheers as the other 3 companies began to pour forward, figure bobbing under the magnificent silhouettes of the reevers, cheers screams and howling cries, unnaturally loud in between the huge drumming of the titans footsteps.

Lynx couldn't help it he cheered too... to be a part of this massive company... the 8th grand company in all its glory. Then the titans guns fired... and the fortress walls were blazed in white light, crackling with lightening... plasma burning. The astartes of first company surged past the third and some reached out clasping lynx's arm or whispering a few words in his ear. Others growled or spat into the dirt or ignored him completely and Lynx supressed a growl of his own and he felt Sabre shift slightly his shot going wide of its target as he moved to address the disrespect.

Jag's muscled forearm came across the terminators broad midriff, and at the slightest touch Sabre's anger seemed to evaporate

"our captain must fight these battles himself.. if we are seen to do it for him then they will never respect him as our company does. Actions speak louder than words"

Sabre growled and his fingers twisted
"the disrespect.. lynx has done far more in his short time than any of the other captains... the bastards dont.."

"Thats enough" Lynx's voice was cool and deadly serious and Sabres disgruntled mutters were silenced.

A second flash of blinding light and their was a hail of smoke and a roar from first company as the devestation caused was revealed by the whispers of smoke

"We await your orders captain"

"Lynx spun to find Cheetah and Leo and Lion standing ahad of the remainder of third company, there eyes bright and bearing a firey desperation to join the battle

"Go through the breaches and back up each company. Sabre bring the cannons through the breach behind first company with Leo. Let us clear the walls quickly and easily."

Jag Lion your with me, we go to pay back Severus for his insolent stares and whispered mutterings."

His voice was a low snarl and his face was unnaturally twisted in anger yet it faded as he watched the companies charge through the breach

"Today is a glorious day... it is the day the Black Apostle returns to us... let him return to find third company stronger than ever"

There wasa roar of approval and third company spread at a trot, pushing towards the breach as the brothers that shunned them pushed into it kicking up dirt and blood as they slew those in their way

(I'll continue once im given a description of the defences im facing within the bastion


----------



## Euphrati

Severus gave a feral snarl and put more behind each massive stride, how dare his brothers begin the assault so soon? His men had only just now made plantside! Severus’s anger caused the crimson light of his bionic eye to flare like a dying sun, Shattersoul whispered in the back of his mind as the daemon tasted the burning wrath of its master.

The very ground shivered as the titans opened fire; their booming voices were more of a physical sensation than actual sounds. The walls cried out under the barrage of fire, stone works shattering with the impacts of warp-laced munitions. Severus could see over the haze of battle that the other two companies had already succeeded in bringing their walls down and gnashed his teeth in frothing rage.

Corius’s voice sounded over the vox-link. The Sergeant was one of the ones Severus favoured due to his unshakeable loyalty and his viciously sharp mind. Severus felt the warp pressing down on him; the power struggled just underneath the fabric of reality. He growled back through the link to Corius,

‘The warp readies itself for our Lord’s return, but I want you and your men to keep a level head in this battle. Our brothers seem to have lost all sense and charge like Abaddon’s worthless rabble,’ 

Severus snarled the last bit, his gleaming fangs flashing as he switched to the company channel for all to hear, 

‘We are Iron Warriors! Sons of the mighty Prince Pertruabo! Walls mean little to us for all walls come crashing down in time, even the walls around the Palace will be hewn stone from gilded stone! Glory to the second, my brothers! *Iron Within! Charge!*’

With that Severus bellowed a cry that was more machine than man and hefted his hammer high over his head before charging the crumbling walls of the bastion and cursing his brothers for their rush. Rushing led to mistakes and, in the service of the Black Apostle, mistakes meant failure.


----------



## Necrosis

Vicitous began to get up. His head was still hurting. He was unsure how long he had been out for. He got up and look at his chosen. "It was just a vision, nothing more, nothing less." said Vicitous as he then look around and saw the other companies. "Our task here is done. None of those damned cultist showed any promise. Let us now move into the center of this attack. I want us to be able to quickly respond to anything. Their has to be something important on this planet. I just know it." said Vicitous as he then began to make his way towards the center of the attack force.


----------



## Fumble Tumble

As Severus opened a company link and shouted into the vox "We are Iron Warriors! Sons of the mighty Prince Pertruabo! Walls mean little to us for all walls come crashing down in time, even the walls around the Palace will be hewn stone from gilded stone! Glory to the second, my brothers! Iron Within! Charge!"

Kerias paused and listened, stopping in the middle of the battlefield, to listen to another great moment in the history of the 3rd comany, as Severus finished his monumental speech, Kerias shouted "Iron without into the vox-link, finishing the great battlecry, the battlecry which millions feared to hear, and would die having nightmares about these few words, as this planet would.

Kerias ran at the breach, stopping only fifty meters away with his loyal squad, "Brasten, Helios, covering fire while the heavies get into position, Geltas, Farneas, i want those men in the breach pelted non-stop, until plasma cannons are ready, Prestor, Zaraiha, and Ferinos, i want you to get those guns ready, take out the men in the breach, kill them all, Dameos, Selcario, i want you to get rid of any enemy armour in the area, we have lost few men so far, lets keep it that way" he rasped, before spinning around and taking aim at a tank less than 50 meters away, "shit" he muttered, this would have to be a one-hit-kill, otherwise that tank would annihilate his squad, and a valuable asset to the 3rd company would be lost, taking careful aim, not rushing his shot with this one, Kerias ignored the las bolts flying past, his finger gently caressed the trigger and a bolt of blue green laser spurted out of the barrel and connected solidly with the tanks cannon, blowing it of and sparking the ammunition belt inside the tank, sending flames pulsing out of the top of the vehicle, "kill shot" Kerias murmured to himself before turning towards another tank.


----------



## Concrete Hero

Redvivus turned as the Captain spoke, regarding Severus with his cold glowing eyes. He stood close, closer than many were comfortable to be and closer still than many dared to stand. Though there was no fear in the Captains eyes, nor the dumbfounded awe many of the lesser legionnaires gawped with. Redivivus respected the look he saw in Severus, he found himself staring into the glowing bionic replacement of Pyrrhus, then to the delicate silver tracings on his real, steel grey eye. The same silver lines that worked their way through his body had made their way here. It seemed the Captain drew closer and closer to leaving his imperfect shell behind, the Obliterator smiled inwardly.

Though he remained silent, primarily because he didn’t know what to say to the Captain. Many signs pointed to the return of their glorious Prince though something wasn’t right... The Warp ripple did little else but disturb him, but what else could it be? He tried to cast the thought away; dwelling on it now wouldn’t make a difference.

Soon enough the craft banked and touched down, Severus was quick to leave the Stormbird. Redivivus felt the tingle of Vox traffic as the Captain barked his orders to the following squads. As the Obliterator dragged his bulk free from the craft, the mechanisms of his body hissing and whirring as he moved, the first thing he heard was the titanic retort from the Titans weaponry. The sheer volume was astounding... Redivivus felt something stir inside him, the glowing lights in his eyes gained intensity as the boiling fury edged at his mind.

A wave of bitterness washed over him as he zoomed in on the walls and made sense of the situation. The Assault had already begun! He felt the same hostility emanating from his Brothers and snapped his silver maw together in a vicious bite. Pangorax growled and unleashed a searing red beam of light, scouring the walls of the fortress. Though they were too far away, no results could be noticed. The pounding of Titan footsteps sounded like slow mocking laughter as the Mighty Daemon Machines happily engaged their targets from such range. Normally he reserved nothing but positive feelings for the Constructs; he felt nothing but bitterness right now.

The Cult moved quickly to back the Captain as they closed on the walls, forming an arc behind Severus. He felt like he was being carried on the bubbles of his volcanic anger. This was worse than waiting in the transport, to be on the field of battle but have nothing to do but move forward! The irritation was almost overwhelming. Falcis and Pangorax positively radiated hate and fury, hoping to sate the need for destruction the moment they disembarked. Redivivus tried to focus his Brothers, remind them the enemy was close. It was all he could do to prevent them from descending and opening fire on the surrounding Marines, the act of calming helped focus his own mind, granting a measure more control.


Through the haze of anger, Redivivus prayed they could properly engage soon.


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus sped past Kerias and the burning battle tank with a quick salute with his powersword, he quickley reached the wall turrets and braked hard before jumping from his bike as his jump pack fired carrying him into the gun position.

Grenades exploded around him as his squad hurled kraks to disorientate the Guardsmen before following him in to melee, he spun and drove his sword into a mans face before steping forward and punching another in the chest then decapitating him.

Looking around he saw that his squad had destroyed the gun but been surrounded and were slowly losing ground, "IRON WITHOUT" he yelled as he heard Severus' speech and dived back into combat.


----------



## dark angel

((OOC: Sorry it is short, I really cannot get into the correct mindset to write for Arkias and his Squad for some reason  )

There was a billow of smoke from behind the Silent Ones, several thumps having gone off mere seconds before. Evangelos, who was taking up the rear, disappeared completely, fading against its background like a chameleon would a leaf. Arkias led them, in one hand was his Tulwar, while in the other he had drawn his Bolt Pistol, making sure to reload it when he did so. A half dressed Guardsmen burst from a nearby door, buttoning up his shirt, only to be beheaded in a fountain of red by the mighty Tulwar. 

All around them, Guardsmen were awakening from their quarters, only to be put down with sweeps of Blades or roars of Bolt-Weapons. Bodies were torn asunder, coming apart with ease un-shown by the Marines. They came out into the smoke clogged Bastion, screaming Guardsmen lying in various stages of death. The five Marines dropped from their raised position and landed before the gates, they threw them open, and turned to face the enemy.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Everyone: As you enter the breaches, the names of the Black Apostle and Perturabo on your lips, the guns from the bastion open fire upon the Helghans and what cultists are left in front of you. All of the cultists are killed instantly in a hail of fire and many of the Helghans fall to the endless metallic rain, but they still continue onwards, what could be called their equivalent to Commissars pushing them onwards. You see a bright flash and the shield around the bastion blows and gives out leaving its walls and the guns upon them very vulnerable, hearing a loud booming you all see a bright lance of energy fly over your heads from the direction of Thel's titan and impact on the bastion blowing a huge hole in it. 

The doors to the bastion fly open and you all see Arkias and his squad sprint out, a wave of gaurdsmen at their heels. As you see Arkias fight to get his squad into safety the guns on the bastion open fire and tear them to bloody pieces right before your eyes. Waves of gaurdsmen are pouring out of the bastion and clogging the area in front of you, while seperately they cant hurt you, together their weight of fire could take down each one of you.

First Company: Those of you in the first will follow your mighty captain Barok as he races through the mass of gaurdsmen and through the blast doors that Arkias and his men had just come through. around you stand about two hundred gaurdsmen as they fight your brothers and you in a futile attempt to stop you from entering the bastion and taking it for yourselves. once inside opposition will be minimal but there will still be a few gaurdsmen, all of which are armed with lasguns frag and krak grenades and combat knives. You see your brothers in Arkias's stealth squad get ripped apart by the bastion's guns and roar in anger as your brothers are torn to pieces, this puts a fire in your belly and you enter the bastion first before the second has a chance to enter through their own breach. you all will be heading toward the engineering bay, reactor room (what is left of it), and lower basement levels to clear them out and sack the armoury. 

Second Company: You all will be entering the bastion to secure it along with the First company. You will be going in through a large hole that was created from part of the bastion's outer wall collapsing from a Titan shot, once inside the bastion there will be relatively no enemies compared to how many are outside but there will still be some, follow your captain's orders. you all are heading toward the command room, the medical bays and fire control rooms up on the upper levels of the bastion. those of you that are warptouched can feel the warp shifting and moving aggressively as it fights at the barrier between it and realspace.

Third Company: You will be staying outside of the bastion and mopping up the guardsmen horde outside, they are armed with lasguns, frag and krak grenades and of course combat knives and that is it. While your brothers clear the bastion you deal with the two hundred or so gaurdsmen outside, there are many so buckle down and use your weight of fire and superior firepower to gun them down as quickly as possible. Shamesu will be staying outside alongside you to aide in the slaughter that you will reap and his massive form will be among you all, the honor is great. Those of you that are warptouched can feel the warp pulling at its restraints and roaring as it fights to break the barrier between realspace and itself.

Fourth Company: You will be staying outside along with the Third to clean up the area outside of all the gaurdsmen that are left, there are about two hundred left and they will fight till their last breath. how do you feel being forced to stay outside and not be given the honor of taking the bastion and sealing the siege? many can see by the body language of your captain Aresk that he is not happy with the decision but still fights on, set up firing squads and eliminate all of the gaurdsmen left outside. those of you that are warptouched can feel the warp pulling at its restraints and screaming as it fights to be let loose on the land. 

[The battle has turned into almost complete chaos now. This is a pivotal point, if momentum is lost the assault will be broken and we will not take the bastion. Yet there are inumerable amounts of gaurdsmen, kill as many as you can but work together, any blind heroics will get you killed if you are alone. Comment on the amount of blood being shed and how it makes you feel, those of you that are warptouched you can feel the warp stirring and getting even more agitated as you send more and more gaurdsmen to their graves]


----------



## Fumble Tumble

Keiras pulled out his bolt pistol and powersword, his lascannon would be useless against this army.

Aiming at the swarm of men, he shouted to his squad as he ran for cover, las bolts zipping past him "men get into position behind cover, lascannons will be useless, against such numbers, use your bolt pistols, plasma cannons aim for the biggest group of the enemy, , bolt-pistols aim for the front runners, otherwise we will not have enough range, bolters aim for those twenty meters behind the front line, if they get to close, i want all bolt pistols and combat blades, or bolters with bayonets,, we have our men stuck in cover down there, try to free them if you can!", he ended his orders and scrambled into a crater from a huge gun.

Standing up, he aimed over the edge of the crater and started firing one handed into the crowd, his other hand holding his power sword, his finger hovering over the activation switch, his squad dropping into craters, and hiding behind broken walls, opening the wrath of the iron warriors on this poor display of power, cutting down hundreds of the soldiers of the dead skeleton sitting on the golden throne.


----------



## Euphrati

Severus could feel the black oil that coursed through his veins instead of blood surging with each thunderous stride. Clouds of debris and dust swirled around his form and broken rubble was crushed beneath every fall of his heel as he scrambled up the wreckage of the Titan’s wrath. Shapes milled about in the false twilight, sporadic sprays of ruby las bolts slicing through the confusion.

One last mighty stride and Severus emerged from the choking clouds like a daemon from the depths of hell itself. The courtyard was cast with broken stone, guardsmen running into position to defend the breach freezing in place at the sight before them. A roar that shook the souls of lesser men tore from his fanged mouth as he charged the broken line, Shattersoul held at guard before his barreling from.

He impacted the front line just as some of the spineless whelps gathered enough wits to pull their triggers; spraying the area and subsequently their comrades with searing bursts of fire. Few bolts kissed Severus’s arms and legs, the warp-blessed armour drinking them up like light into the void. Oathbreaker gleamed in the flashes of crimson, the mirrored faces reflecting the scenes played out before them with uncaring clarity. Severus snarled and brought the hammer across his fore in a unstoppable pass, shattering bone and pulping flesh with equal ease.

A new tone joined the symphony of battle, the guns of the bastion had begun to rake the lines of fodder pressed forward by that cur Lynx. Severus growled at the mere thought of the half-breed, hefting Oathbreaker with such force that the ground shattered where the head struck like a mortar had landed amidst the battle. Over the curling dust he could see the bastion gates burst forth and Arkias charge from the depths trailed by his men only to be cut down by the guns. Severus gave a mocking sneer at the death; the cowards were running from weak-fleshed guardsmen! Arkias had never been a true Iron Warrior at the core and the manner of his death only served to validate that.

Severus brought Shattersoul up to slam down on a guardsman frozen in fear, the teeth along the rim slicing him cleanly in twain, before opening the vox to his men,

‘*Perciuos*! Your men have failed me! I want those guns silenced _*NOW*_ sergeant!’

Severous bellowed before switching to a private vox link and growling through a vicious smile that pulled itself over what was left of his face,

‘Redivivus, my brother, release them… leave nothing alive save our own.’


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus heard Severus' order but could not follow it as he was swamped by Guardsmen.

Just as his men were about to be overwhelmed he saw an allied heavy weapons team open fire on the Loyalists, when he looked closer he saw the sergeant he had knocked down earlier was with that squad, under the covering fire of the aillied Guardsmen he and his squad sprinted from gun to gun untill all but one were silenced.

When he was about to go for the last gun he saw Arkias run from the main gate with Guardsmen on his heels, "Squad, open fire!" he yelled pointing at the advancing Loyalists.
His squad open fire and brought down several of the Guard yet more came untill suddenly he saw with horrer that Arkias had been gunned down by friendly fire.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius tore another guardsman in half and roared a challenge at the innumerable numbers of guardsmen moving to surround him. He played a cruel trick and teleported to the rear of this pack of cannon-fodder. There must of been twenty or thirty men there, but none of them could defeat him. He was a god here! Nothing could stop him. As he was chewing his way through the last of the guardsmen, Celux's voice came over the vox snapping him back from the swirling maelstrom of combat he was in "Sir, I'm sure you have realised, but you are more than a mile away from us and if for some reason you were bested or swamped, we could offer no aid." Glancing back over his shoulder he realised how far he had strayed, and that his men were standing on a knee high pile of blood bone and flesh. Corius quickly teleported back to his men in time to drive his claws through two more guardsmen. Shortly afterwards the doors blew open and Arkias came out, only to shortly be obliterated by the bastions guns. Severus came over the vox roaring his disgust at Perciuos' failure. Corius spoke over the vox "My Lord, we have a solid position. What do you require of us, do you want us to come to support you, or would you have us defend out position or would you like us to press our assault? We are your to command!" And with that Corius resumed tearing guardsmen apart and waited to here their lords commands that they might obey. And all the time, the more he killed, the more corpses fell to his feet, there was one phrase that rang in his ears, getting faster and louder; It...is...coming...It...is...coming...It...is...coming...It...is...coming...It...is...coming...It...is...coming.......


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel smiled, hideously, as his muscles began to ripple and his blood flowed faster throughout his body. His eyes glew deeper and brighter as he massacred the Guardsmen fodder around him with contemptuous ease. This was not a battle, this was a massacre and these were not warriors fit for battle, these were mere children running for their lives. Around him his Possessed shared his thoughts as they cut down anything in their path. Suddenly a blast of searing lightning, blue as the oceans of ancient Olympia, narrowly missed Zamiel and scorched his armour, the Daemon-warrior hissed at his new target, a psyker. Psykers were low to Zamiel but the Imperium psykers were the worst, they were weak and frail and did not deserve the gifts the Warp Gods had bestowed unto them. Zamiel charged forward and grabbed the psyker by the head, carefully he forced warp energy into the psyker until he was a burnt out husk. Zamiel noticed Shamesu, the revered dreadnought crushing Guardsmen under him. Revered to all but Zamiel, deep down the so-called ancient was just a dried out slab of gristled meat and bone and would die easy if his core was broken.

Zamiel looked to the fortress, that was where glory was, not out here slaughtering cowards without any fight left in them. Guardsmen screamed and broke formation as Zamiel and his elite cadre of Possessed marines cut through them in a battle that the Guardsmen knew they had no hope of winning.


----------



## Euphrati

The ground heaved and bucked like a furious mount trying to rid itself of an unwanted rider under the hammering blows from the titan’s guns. Stone shattered, raining down in a deadly storm upon the courtyard where Severus waded amongst the pitiful mortal guardsmen. A dreadnaught sized chunk of stone from the upper bastion, its eagle-headed gargoyle clinging to its perch with impotent masonry wings outspread, impacted like a meteor barely fifteen meters from Severus.

The captain of the Second spun to face the impact, dropping to a knee and bringing Shattersoul into a guard position covering his chest and head. Razor shards of stone shredded flesh around him as the guardsmen died in swaths, and then momentary silence. Severus surged to his feet, brushing palm-sized chips of stone from his massive shoulders with a grunt of pleasure as he noted the gaping hole torn in the flank of the bastion itself. He surged forward even as his voice boomed over the company channel,

‘The inner wall falls! Warriors of the Second, Advance! Take the bastion from the dogs of the Imperium! Corius! You and your men are with me to the command chambers. Kerias! Lend your fire to the First until they are in, and then let your men bloody their blades and hold this breach. Perciuos, take your men and jump to the upper levels. Silence any guns you find there… after you have completed that you may follow to the command room on the fifth floor.’

Severus bounded over the torn lip of stone and into the bastion proper,

‘You all have your duties, fail me and you shall be replaced. *GLORY to the Second!*’

-


----------



## Concrete Hero

What had started as a somewhat ponderous and grim-attituded walk up the mound of rubble after Severus, quickly sank into blood lusting climb. The sheer... Elation was hard to describe, the fighting was so close, Redivivus could smell spilt blood in the air. His mind was lifted on bubbles of relentless excitement, the raw mix and wash of emotions was tinged by Frustration. Why must they climb!

The Obliterator wrapped his hand around a chunk of broken masonry to drag himself higher, crushing the stone without a second thought after it had served its purpose. He gnashed his gleaming maw and roared into the open air. The boiling minds of his Brothers pushed against his, they wanted to fight, to destroy, to obliterate.

'_Redivivus, my brother, release them… leave nothing alive save our own._'

The Cult dragged themselves onto flat land and were greeted by a meagre collection of cover separating them from... The glorious destruction. Redivivus felt his mind sink into the animalistic realms once again as he beheld the blood-letting. As one the Cult let loose their last ounces of restraint and unleashed their fury. Each shoulder mounted Lascannon fired simultaneously, the glowing beams of unrestrained energy vaporised their obstacle and ploughing into the fray. 

Truly unrestrained, the cult fell into the melee with ear splitting cries of rage booming from their forms. The blood lights of Redivivus' eyes glared out, washing his victims in a baleful hue. The crackling power-fields around his gauntlets flared into life, the Obliterator fell into the guardsmen before him in a savage fury, where his fists fell, bodies detonated in showers of boiling blood. Redivivus towered over the guardsmen, destroying them like a prime evil force, before long the squad was plastered over his armour and scattered around the rubble, his body was drenched in blood.

He revelled in the destruction, it intoxicated his mind, though he was little more than a predator at this point, all thoughts of tactics and restraint long gone. His mind exploded in a volcano of anger as he felt a collection of stinging sensations across his back. The Obliterator turned, a squad of guardsmen stood before him, some kneeling, all aiming down their rifles.

'Again! Bring it down!' One of the humans barked.

Redivivus opened his maw and issued his own cry, a deep rumbling roar, seemingly impossibly loud. He lifted his arm and let loose with embedded auto-cannon, the large calibre shells thumped from the gun and burst into the squads ranks, where the shells hit, large gaping wounds were rent along the Guardsmen. Many of them fell to the floor screaming, clutching at fatal wounds, others fell silently. The last knot of Guardsmen, just four, held their weapons with bayonets ready and in a moment of either insane courage or madness, charged the Obliterator. As the shouting soldiers closed the gap, Redivivus' mouth fell open and an intense wave of pink fire erupted forth. The aggressive shouts quickly became horrific shrieks of pure agony as the warp-fire immolated their mind and bodies.

After the ravaging flames flickered away, a lone guardsmen was left, fallen on the floor. The soldier looked up with eyes filled with dread. Not a heartbeat of mercy was spared and Redivivus dived forward, wrapping his large claws around the man and lifting him from his feet, the human screamed as the light gleamed from his jagged 'teeth'. The sound was cut short as the Obliterator bit forward, the Dragonlike head snapping fully halfway down the man's body before shearing him in two. Arterial blood sprayed from the discarded chunk of flesh as it fell limply to the floor, its memory was equally forgotten as the Obliterator bounded for more targets.

A wave of eagerness flashed through his mind as he caught sight of a larger opponent, though it was replaced by bitter disappointment when he realised he was staring at Captain Pyrrhus himself. Through the haze of blood lust and rage, the form of Severus stood out, marking him as friend. Luckily the Obliterator had noticed him from afar, rather than rounding a corner to find such a tempting target.

A bark of metallic annoyance burst from his form as he sought for new targets. Before he watched The Captain rush into the gaping wound in the bastions walls. New targets! Untouched if the wall had just fallen! In the rage his mind had descended into a feral state, given gifts of insight from his locked intelligence, struggling and lost in the sea of blood.

Redivivus rushed for the hole, impulsively calling his Cult Brothers, he could feel their annoyance at being distracted, but read their willingness to follow. The Plasma cannon on his shoulder gathered a glowing nimbus of energy before gaining intensity. The large incandescent bolt of energy burst from the barrel with a charged, electrical noise. Vomiting through the hole and lost to his sight.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius listened as his lord issued his commands. They were to follow him to glory. Corius smiled and turned his head to his me, who had heard the message too. "You heard our captain! Fall back to him, and then onwards to glory!" As he finished saying these words, his acute hearing caught the barking of an imperial dog about his false emperor. Corius tried to find the source of this annoyance, and saw a pathetic priest standing amidst the battlefield proclaiming the favor of the "God-Emperor" on his faithful. "Let us test that favor, shall we?" Corius whispered to himself. "Men, go to Severus, I will join you after I have made and example of this imperial dog." He knew his men would obey, so Corius charged at this priest of the false emperor, carving a bloody scar through the guardsmen. "Away from me Daemon! I carry the blessing of the God-Emperor with me!" the priest streaked, his words laced with fear and dread. Corius came close to him and spoke, with the utmost confidence "I fear neither you, nor your False Emperor" and with that, Corius grabbed the priests neck, and teleported himself on top of a spire of the broken wall. 

Corius changed his vox so his voice became like a mega-phone over the battlefield, just about everyone would hear his words. "Enemies of the Iron Warriors, hear me well! This pitiful human believes that his "God-Emperor" can protect him." And with that Corius drove his lightning claws through the priest and tossed him contemptuously from the spire. "Your Emperor is a LIE! HE CANNOT SAVE YOU! NOTHING CAN! WE ARE THE IRON WARRIORS, AND WE ARE INVINCIBLE! So run, RUN AND TELL THEM THE HAMMER OF OLYMPIA IS HERE!" And with that Corius teleported off of the spire and back to the real fight, where he could feel the blood run thick through his hands. He teleported to just behind the breach where the Obliterator cult had carved a path that was free from harm. Only allowing his feet to touch the ground for a moment, Corius sprinted for Severus, knowing that to stay in the fire path of Obliterators was to invoke the rage of the machine incarnate. Corius felt lasgun shots ping and reflect harmlessly off of his armour, as he charged through terrified guardsmen who had watched him issue his challenge to the army. Most had lost their nerve, and the few that hadn't we shaking in fear. Corius laughed as he slaughtered them with contemptuous ease. Eventually he made his way his Captain, his front drenched in blood of the imperial dogs holding this pathetic excuse for a fortress. He said nothing and set to killing the guardsmen surrounding Severus and Corius' squad, waiting for his Lord to give the command to advance to the command room...


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus heard Serverus' order a moment before he heard the triumphant speech of Corius, emboldened by this Maximus and his squad leaped from the walls onto the burning wreckage of a Leman Russ battle tank and then hurling himself to the upper level where their were dozens of automated guns and several frightened guardsmen.

Although most had ran their were several Commisars trying to rally them picking of squad members with their bolt pistols to try to get them to fight, Maximus didnt give them a chance.
"Kill the Scum!" He yelled as he threw his axe through the face of the nearest Commisar. All around him his squad were butchering the Officers yet they had left it late and some squads had rallyed and were aiming down their rifles...and the three autocannons.
"Squad to co...!!" He was interupted by a huge explosion of autocannon fire mixed with lasgun volleys, Maximus saw that while most of his squad had seen the danger three had been caught in the open and were either dead or wounded.

Maximus saw that the only survivor of the three had managed to grab several grenades and was priming them, with a glance at his Sergeant he lurched to his feet and yelled "IRON WITHIN!" then threw himself at the Guard.
Surprised by that their were survivors at all the Guard were slow to react and payed for it with their lives.

Carefully looking around the side of the pillar he was hiding behind he saw that almost all of the humans were dead, but at the cost of three of his comrades, 'I will avenge you' he thought "Squad plant those charges on the guns"

After the charges had been placed he prepared the detonater, stepping to the wall he quietly said "Iron without" then pushed the detonater while pushing off the side and catapulting himself from the walls as every gun on that level exploded in a huge fireball.

Landing carefully he soon joined Corius and Severus at the enterance "Alot of the bastards arn't there" he said to Corius.


----------



## Fumble Tumble

Kerias listened to his masters commands "I live to serve You, the great Black Apostle, and Perturabo, the great King of Olympia, my lord" he he called into the vox-link.

With a howl, He called his men to him, telling them their mission, he ran up a hill towards a ruined building, which would provide a good cover point for him and his men

"Dameos, your leading Selcario, Ferinos, Zaraiha, and Prestor, I want you men with your heavy weapons up on this hill, we must support the first company, i wont be helping you, i will be defending you, along with Farneas, Geltas, Helios, Brasten. Heavy weapons move out, you four, we will be defending our men from below, i want precision bolter fire taking out prime targets, aim for sergeants and leaders, if the scum get to close, i want bolt-pistols and combat knifes out, slaughter the followers of the false emperor!"

With that comment he jumped into a huge pothole and pulled out his bolt-pistol, holding it with both hands he started taking precision shots at the enemy, laughing as the guardsmen fell screaming, their chests wrought open, or an arm ripped off or hanging by only a few threads.

Kerias Bloodeyes watched as the men slowly got closer, hundreds had been felled, by the second company, but they still advanced, and now they were to close for precision fire, "Havoc Bloodeyes, i want full auto into these men in front of us, no more precision shooting, wipe them out, after you have emptied you magazines, bolt-pistols and combat blades, UP INTO THEM!"

With a roar, the four jumped up beside Kerias and ran the meager ten meters into the crowd of guardsmen milling around hopelessly, Kerias swept his blade out in a wide sweeping arc of destruction, severing heads limbs and torsos with ease, he brought his blot-pistol up and pulled the trigger, listening to the bark as men exploded in showers of gore, making Kerias' skin glow a bright bright red shining into the faces of scared men, just before they got butchered by this god of war. 

Kerias laughed at the destruction around him, before realizing that the hundreds of men were running by this small show of power by his men and him, Kerias shouted "men fall back to the building, I want to regroup" before turning and running back towards the hill.

At the top he picked up his lascannon reverently before slinging it over his back "have you men helped the first company sort themselves out?" waiting for the nod that was sure to come, "good" he said before voxing Severus asking to move out, then waiting for the reply.


----------



## deathbringer

Fuck...this was chaos

Their brothers had been quick, orders degrading into a malstrom as they were lost in the bloodlust of the moment, carried forward upon wings of howling agression. Blood ran in rivers, seeping around the solid rocks of corpses as the chatter of gunfire provided and ode to death punctuated by frequent explosions, a short burst of percussion through a symphony of horror.

It was horrific, blood flowed free yet it did not disgust Lynx, it was the heresy, the betrayal of tradition for madness. They were Iron Warriors, delicate and subtle, deft applications of force causing a fortresses to fall to a single blow, not a mindless rabble like Russ's whoreson wolves or Angron's beserk hordes. Yet he saw no guile or subtlety in the assault today, just pure violence and sickening cramps burst through his stomach and he scrunched his face in disgust.

He would not let 3rd become so mindlessly embroiled within the battle. He turned and his eyes met Sabre's and he saw they were filled with revulsion as his railgun recoiled blasting backwards. A beam of energised light soared and several guns upon the wall went silent as sparks flew under the impact.

His eyes met Lynx's and they shared a grimace

"This is disgusting" muttered the Iron Warrior "Our Lord Perturabo would blanch if he saw such madness, who are we Angron's raggletaggle mob?"

"Well let us keep ur company in line and show that we still have some guile."muttered Lion as his spear whipped up from a dismembered body to cross his body, knees bent and eyes searching for the newest threat to his beloved captain.

He surveyed the battlefield and watched as the cultist were torn away by the guns that sparked upon the bastion walls and Lynx barked through the vox

"Let us show we have some guile brothers, I want maximum efficiency on the bastion. Coordination brothers, let us be deft and organised unlike these rabbles that call themselves Iron Warriors. When our Lord returns, we will show we have not forgotten how to fight."

The air was suddenly filled with vox traffic as squads co-ordinated and barks of fire began to ring out and the candles of muzzle flash began to flicker dieing out upon the walls. 

Then the doors burst open and hell broke loose. A warrior screamed 

"The doors" as the huge gates flew open and something moved out, they were large flickering shadows, framed by flames and suddenly heavy bolters were barking, the chatter of bullets erupting as the huge weapons flashed writhing like snakes in their bearers hands, appalled at the crimes they were about to commit.

Recognition and the word 
"HOLD" melded on his lips to no avail

It was an Iron Warrior and his squad that fled the building, passing through the great gates only to fall broken and shattered in the mud below. Numbness.. they had murdered their own... but it was not his fault

Sabre was roaring, Jag's head was bowed, Lion plunged a vengeful stroke into a guardsman's throat whilst Leo's multimelta burned bright as it sheared through another gun upon the wall. Lynx's eyes were fixed upon Cheetah's whose mouth still opened wide in a scream of horror at his squads act, the heavy bolter still streaking shells as his finger lay paralysed upon the trigger.

It was Sabre's heavy cuff that stopped the shells streaking and his gruff voice barked through the vox, a sudden urgency and softness melding over the harsh tones

"It was an accident boy. Forget it"

Cheetah seemed daze yet he swallowed and nodded.

The vox was suddenly silent, punctuated by short bursts of speech that suddenly seemed unnatural as the other companies poured into the bastion cutting there paths with hasty strokes .

"Mop up" time whispered Lynx through the stunned silence

Ahead Lynx noticed Prothor and his terminators cutting through the guardsman with ease closing in upon the open doors and an idea struck him as he barked

"Hold your position Prothor. We wil sweep around and crush them upon you like the hammer and the anvil." 

"Come warriors of the third sweep around them and herd them onto the anvil of the terminators. Watch your fire and wittle them down with bolt , bit by bit till none stand. Come Sorceror (Necrosis) your pow will be useful here, do not hesitate to slay them in the name of our Lord Peturabo"

In the midst of the guardsman the mighty form of Shamesu unleashed hell upon the wavering guardsman and he felt pride swell within him at this magnificent God of chaos. Yet suddenly doubt as Lynx thought he felt the God's eyes upon him.. Was the great Lord watching him... did he approve?


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Alright a heads up for everyone, Necrosis has had to back out and so his character is now dead, however Masked Jackal will be taking the Sorceror spot with his own character. Dark Angel is also coming in as a new character, a dreadnought. As far as I know there is no one in the First Company anymore but i have an update in case i am an idiot and forgot.]

1st Company: The gates to the bastion lay open to you and as you press through the mass of bodies you can see your captain charge through them. Pressing through you eventually reach the gates and run through them, the menacing sounds from outside suddenly muffled to but distant booms and whistles. The inside of the bastion is dark and your visors take a second or two before adjusting to the change in light, the walls are lined with cracks from the punishment that the rest of the bastion is taking from your brothers and Thel's titans, and drops of water drip down from the cieling as pipes burst under the strain. 

Barok's voice comes over the vox hard and clear, *"Spread out, we are to take the reactor room and the ammo depots on the lower levels."* that is all you need to begin to head to your objectives that are marked on your HUDs. Spread out through the bastion, the hallway you are running through now branches off to your left and right, the ammo depots are off of the right path, as it goes down into the ground it also branches off into two different directions. One depot is marked and it is the right path after the second branch, while the left path from the second branch has an unknown end.

The first left heads to where the reactor room is and is where the techmarines will be heading so that they can begin repairs on the bastion immediately so that the Eighth can use it for the coming siege. This path does not branch but is heavily fortified with sentry turrets in both the walls and cieling, those that go down this path will have to deal with these turrets methodically while those that go down the right path might get lost if they do not pay attention. There will be minimal gaurd resistance to the right until you reach the ammo depot and there will be almost no gaurdsmen to your left.

2nd Company: You roar as you follow your captain through the breach that was made by one of the Titans. As you enter the breach the sounds of battle from the outside are muffled greatly to distant booms and whistles and cracks, the only overpowering sound for the first few second being your breath as you sprint through the breach. Your job is to spread out and capture the Command Center on the top level and the Control Room for the bastion's automated gun sentries and elevator shafts among other things. The only fast way up to the Command Center that is five levels up is a large elevator shaft that has been shut down, the only other way up is as set of steps that are on the other side of the troop barracks. The Control Room however is only one level up and down the hallway to your right, yet after a ways this hallway branches off into two different directions, one leading to the upper level of the troop barracks and the other leading down to another split, the right one being the Control Room and the left going to somewhere unknown.

Severus; As you enter the breach your vision is clouded for a fraction of a second by the sudden change in light but as you come into a room you are blinded as a lasround barrels right by your face barely missing it. The breach had opened up into a large gathering area for troops and it is nothing but fifty yards of open ground and twenty gaurdsmen on the other side aiming down their sights. Dispatch them however you see fit, use your shield to advance unharmed or have Redivivus or Kerias dispatch them from afar, it is up to you. 

After the gaurdsmen are all killed you have a few choices to make, to the right of the giant room you are in is a hallway leading off to what you know to be the Control Room for the Sentries, Elevators and other things of that nature. It leads up and to the right and then branches off into two different directions, the left path leads to the troop barracks and the right leads to another split the left one leading down to somewhere uknown and the other leading a little ways up and into the Control Room. 

The right path will be relatively ungaurded once you are past the branch that leads to the barracks but will have automated gun sentries and a few gun servitors. Straight ahead of you are a pair of large blast doors that lead into the lower levels of the troop barracks. Once through those doors you will be in a large room filled with bunks and tables and many many gaurdsmen, at the end of this room is a set of steps that leads all the way up the bastion to the Command Center. This route is heavily gaurded by many guardsmen and sentry guns.

The elevator shaft that has been shut down is to your right in the large room you are in now. Decide who you want to send where, who will go towards the Control Room? Who will accompany you, who will go through the troop barracks? Shoud you wait until the Control Room is reached to make your way up or do you use the steps and more dangerous path? Make your decisions but keep in mind whichever way you go you will not get there in one post.

Maximus Perciuos; You follow your captain through the breach hot on is tail but just as you clear the smoke you see a lasround fly past you and hit one of your men right in the right eyepiece blowing the back of his head out. Angered that you have lost yet another one of your men you light your jetpack ready to fly at the twenty gaurdsmen that are at the other end of the large room you are in but Corius puts his hand on your shouldergaurd and stops you from certain death. Four of your men are now gone, this must have an impact on your psyche, yet there are twenty gaurdsmen fifty yards away from you, listen to your captain's orders and do what he says or do not wait for him and act on your own but once the gaurdsmen have been dispatched expect him to give you orders on where to go.

Corius Maximun; As you teleport back and follow your captain through the breach you are a bit slower then Maximus and his Raptors and see one of his men get his head blown out by a round as you enter the bastion. Maximus is clearly upset about this and readies himself to fly at the twenty gaurdsmen fifty yards away, stop him and say a few words to your beleagured brother. After this is done aid your brothers and captain in dispatching the twenty gaurdsmen at the end of the massive room you are in, either listen to Severus's orders or kill them yourself if you want but once they are gone listen to his orders and he will tell you where he wants you to go.

Redivivus; You follow your captain through the breach barely able to hold from shooting him and your brothers, the madness that has come over you and your cult making it extremely difficult. As you enter the breach and come out into a large massive room you see one of your Raptor brothers get his head blown out and turn to see the twenty gaurdsmen at the end of the fifty yard long room. Will you wait for your captain to give you orders or will you simply open fire on them? Whatever your choice after the gaurdsmen are dispatched he will give you orders on where you are to go.

Kerias Bloodeyes; You are the slowest through the breach and come through the smoke to see one of your Raptor brothers on the floor with his head blown out. Since you come through the breach later then the rest the smoke has somewhat abated and you are able to clearly see twenty gaurdsmen at the end of the fifty yard long room that the breach has opened into. Do you kill the gaurdsmen yourself or wait for Severus to give you the orders to? While you make your choice your mechanical eyes tell you that the hallway that comes off from the right of the room is the way to the Control Room yet there is one path further down it that interests you. Whatever your choice about the gaurdsmen once they are dispatched wait for your Captain's orders and go where he tells you to.

3rd Company; You are left outside to take care of what is left of the Imperial Forces outside the bastion along with the Fourth as the First and Second take the bastion itself. There are still around two hundred gaurdsmen left so there are plenty for you to deal with, while most out in the open like you are there a groups that have taken cover in craters and fallen debris and are finding a second will and starting to reap a toll on the Helghans that are fighting alongside you. As you all fight and eradicate the gaurdsmen the sky above you turns to a purplish hue and black clouds begin to rumble with dark thunder. You can feel reality distorting and can see in the middle of the battlefield a small black orb that is slowly getting bigger, every now and then shots of lightning cracking out and striking friend and foe alike, your lord is breaking through. 

Lynx; As you stare in horror at Arkias's dead body and fight to realize that it was your men who had killed him the sky above you turns to a purplish hue and black clouds begin to thunder overhead. You turn to see Shamesu's mighty form staring right at you and you know for sure that he has seen what has transpired, this snaps you out of your state and you take stock of the situation at hand, the gaurdsmen around you are either still out in the open or taking cover in debris and craters and shooting at your men and the those of the Fourth. In the middle of the battlefield a black orb has appeared every now and then shooting out bolts of lightning that strike and kill whatever is closest whether it be Astartes or Imperial.

As you turn to look for Vicitous Diov you see him floating in the air and screamin in pain as he is gradually pulled apart and sucked into the black orb. The Helghans around you are taking a toll from the gaurdsmen that have taken cover and you realise that the Black Apostle is breaking free of the warp with every death. Give your men orders and make sure that the two hundred or so gaurdsmen that are left are taken out quickly if you don't want Shamesu to tell the Apostle what you have done. 

Prothor Ironfist; As you stop according to your orders from Lynx you look at the sky above you and know that your lord is making his return right now. You swell with pride and also a little bit of fear as you wonder what he will do once he is back, after all he hasnt been with the Eighth for almost three thousand years. The Imperial Gaurdsmen are starting to take cover and fire at not only your brothers but you also, and while lasguns by themselves could do nothing to you the weight of fire threatens to injure you and your men. Between you and your brothers of the Third you can see a small black orb growing larger and larger with each death, lightning shooting out from it, one bolt impacting on a group of gaurdsmen not thirty feet from you and killing them instantly. Aide your brothers in dispatching the two hundred or so gaurdsmen that are left outside yet stay away from the black orb or it might take your life.

Zamiel; You are in the midst of the battlefield revelling in the slaughter as the black orb appears within a few feet of you. Realizing immediately what it is you order your men to retreat away from it so that it does not kill you all, but your order comes too late and lightning bolts strike out at your men and rip their souls into the orb. Yet nothing strikes you, amazed you stand and watch as the orb grows and you bask in the power that seems to be dripping off of it, unable to do anything else. The air around the orb whips around as a great warpstorm begins to grow overhead yet your brothers still fight on and for the first time in centuries you feel proud to call them your brothers. You hear a deep rumbling and notice it as a laugh and watch as your men are taken and lifted up, each one being struck by a continuous bolt, their bodies slowly morphing into different ones altogether. How does this feel? You are stuck at the center of the growing warp storm so what do you see? What do you hear?

4th Company; You all join the forces of the Third in the fight to kill the remaining two hundred or so gaurdsmen that have begun to dig themselves in and really take a toll on the Helghans. Above you the sky turns a purplish hue and black clouds begin to fill it as a warp storm begins to grow, in the middle of the battlefield you see a black orb that is slowly growing occassional bolts of lightning shooting out and killing whoever is nearby. 

Eisen; You fight alongside Aresk and bask in the glory that is being bestowed upon you. Yet you are taken back by the change of the weather and wonder at the growing warp storm, you are young and have never truly seen one before in your life and are amazed at how your brothers are still fighting on as if nothing is happening. You look up from the orb to see Aresk standing atop a mound of dead gaurdsmen his arms held up to the sky and his chainmail cape billowing around him. You can hear him laughing hysterically and he turns his head toward you, *"Come boy! Bask in the glory of our lord as he makes his return!" * What do you do? Do you go and stand by your captain who has apparently lost all sense of self preservation and is ignoring the lasbolts that are flying past him and protect him? Or do you stay away and try and kill as many gaurdsmen as possible?

Pavor Man-Flayer; As you break the breach in the wall you smell the blood and carnage beneath you and tear at your restraints so that you may kill and kill and kill. Ripping your handlers forwards as you charge you can feel the power of the warp flooding you as the surrounding warp storm grows larger and stronger, increasing you need to kill and shed blood. You rush into a mass of gaurdsmen and use one of your handlers as a club to beat down those in your way before tossing him at the black orb where he is sucked up, kill anything and everything around you.

Luminus; Just as your ship is ready to break out of the warp your shields are suddenly torn off and in your mind you hear a mighty scream and then a silence so quite it numbs your soul to the core. Your men make an emergency break out of the warp and you find yourself among the debris of Imperial ships and the floating bastions of the Eighth Grand Company. You can feel the warp tearing at reality and know that something big is happening down below on that planet and order your men to bring up images of the surface once you are close enough. 

They zero in on where the tear in reality is occuring and you see the men of the Eighth assaulting some fortress but what stuns you is something else all together. Only visible to your sight you can see a huge black and purple whirlpool in the center of the battlefield and a massive being fighting to break free. Yet this is not what stuns you the most, it is the surrounding area, you can see ancient symbols of chaos too large to be seen from the ground pulsing with power and you feel as if you recognize them. Your soul freezes in terror and you shudder as you finally realize what they mean and you turn and yell at your men to get you a shuttle to the surface right away and to save those images. 

[Alright guys for those of you inside the paths you go down cannot be cleared in one post. For example once you get rid of the gaurdsmen and you are told where to go you will not reach that point within one post, i will update you once you have made your decision and are on your way. Keep in mind you can get lost. Also think about your choices, the control room will reactivate the large elevator that leads to the Command Center yet will your captain be willing to wait? For those outside a large warpstorm is beginning to take form and grow stronger with each passing second, the black orb in the middle of the battlefield seeming to be the nexus of power for it. your lord the Black Apostle is returning and for those of you who either never experienced a warp storm or seen him in the flesh or both this is a mighty sight indeed. your job is to kill all the gaurdsmen yet it cannot be done in one post, i will update you one you have all posted. also those of you that are outside can essentially see what everyone else outside is doing, if you wish to comment on what they are doing or what is happening to them feel free.]


----------



## Masked Jackal

_This is it. The Nexus I saw._ The ships small bridge was sufficiently spartan to make its inhabitants seem colorful by contrast in their garb, which consisted of simple, black robes. Each of the men was known to Luminus, and each was an initiate, a psyker of some form, though most of them were weak and impotent.

Luminus himself stood on a platform that afforded him the best view through the window into the Empyrean. His worn power armour was adorned in the symbols of Chaos, and his eyes burned a dull green as they watched the Warp. The initiates all flinched away from the sights they beheld, but Luminus himself reveled in it. The flow of the Warp seemed transcendentally wondrous this day.

Luminus felt that they would break soon from the Warp, but the nature of that break was something that took him by surprise. The modest shields of the ship were instantly stripped, leaving the buzzing generators silent. But worse was the sound that accompanied it. A psychic scream without compare ripped through Luminus' world, and he barely even registered the reactions of the crew, some of whom clamped their hands over their ears as they bled.

Based upon the sensor readings, which were still functional, Luminus' ship was now in the middle of a fleet. Ordering a crew-member to enhance the images, he realized that the fleet was that of the Iron Warriors Eighth Grand Company. This brought some semblance of order back to his mind. Though the initiates saw only the same unchanging helmet, his mind was roiling. The world below was the center of something, and he could feel it with every sense he had.

He pieced together his psychic sense just as the initiates started copying down the images from the surface of the planet. Even weak ones such as they could see this monstrous energy. Ground images were also routed to the various screens, and Luminus could see the ant-like movements of war.

As the final pieces fell into place, Luminus felt both a sickening dread, and the joy he always felt at such a discovery. "Prepare the shuttle, I must see this battle for myself."


----------



## unxpekted22

Eisen shouted back at the top of his lungs, roaring through the vox in his helmet, "Oh my glorious captain! I have never seen our Lord before!"

He gestures his men up the hill like structure of dead imperial guardsmen. He and his chaos marines slowly walk up the mound of bodies backwards toward Aresk's laughing form, firing their bolter rounds into any oncoming courageous souls who hoped to get a shot in at their Iron Captain before dieing.

When next to Aresk who stared into the sky Eisen yells again, "I hope the Black Apostle finds this setting a welcoming one my Lord! What shall we do when he arrives?!"


----------



## dark angel

War……

Death…..

Pain……

Pavor Man-Flayer moved forwards slowly, his bulky form glistening in newly spilled blood, chains bounding him together tightly. Thirteen Handlers, wearing a silver and black uniform with Rebreathers obscuring their lower face led him towards new blood. One stabbed at his form with a long spear like instrument and Pavor lunged forwards with his claw, gripping the metal he lifted it into the air with the screaming man still upon the end and brought it down into the earth, crushing his body. 

A giant gate stood before him, the metal burnt and bended. Pavor moved forwards, taking away the upper body of another Handler who had strayed in his way, blood spraying over his form. His piston mounted hammer roared as it struck the gate, causing it to shake violently. A second attack caused it to begin to bend inwards. The third caused it to fly off into the compound and Pavor let out a mighty roar, charging inwards.

War……

Death…..

Pain……

Blood…..

The Dreadnaught snapped up one of his Handlers as he charged, squeezing as he swung him wildly, ripping flesh and breaking bone. Two Guardsmen were killed in this attack, their forms beating to the ground. He threw the body away, clouds of blood puffing from torn arteries and watched as it disappeared into the black maelstrom nearby. A wave of Las-Fire struck his armoured front and he let out a blood curdling laugh. 

His claw flicked upwards, sending one Guardsmen flying into the air straight upwards, his flesh and clothes pealing away from the man. His hammer flew forwards, crushing the body of one man who was whimpering loudly. His lowest claw, the middle one, punched through the lower body of another, before ripping upwards and cutting the form in two. One of his Handlers had drawn a snub nosed pistol and was firing one handed, the other holding a shock maul that he kept Pavor in place with. 

War……

Death……

Pain…….

Blood……

Rage……

Pavor pivoted and slashed the side of the Handler, ripping through his body of the Handler roaring “Death to you!” and burst into a metallic laughter. He continued to slaughter, cutting down enemies and Handlers alike in a orgy of blood and gore.


----------



## Fumble Tumble

Kerias looked at the twenty guardsmen at the end of the large room, with a feral growl, he went onto one knee, his lascannon instinctively coming into the air before he thought of the futility of his actions, there were fifty or so iron warriors in here, let them slaughter his minor inconvenience.

Anyway, a lascannon on these men would only be a waste of precious ammunition, for such soldiers, he would wait for others to slaughter these pathetic mortals.

"On second thoughts" he thought, why let others claim the glory, "Farneas, Geltas, Helios, Brasten, supporting fire" he ordered casually, watching as the four men unslung bolters and started aiming at the enemy as if they had all the time in the world 

"Wait for the captains orders, if he gives the go, release firepower" he stated, before looking around the room. 

His augementics picking out the smallest details in the huge room, at the back he saw of this hall he saw a path that must lead off to the control room, according to the schematics of the building his left eye showed him. 

But further along was the path he had seen in the schematics, and it did seem interesting, indeed, Kerias was curious and wanted to investigate this tunnel.

"Captain, let me destroy these cowards and weaklings, then, if i may, would i be able to investigate that tunnel further along, my augementics show that it is heavily guarded, thus I'm assuming that there must be something worth having along that tunnel, if it pleases you?"


----------



## Concrete Hero

'_*OBLITERATE!!*_'

Redivivus bellowed in the open chamber, the instruments of his being amplifying the cry to a bone shaking volume. With the bellow the Obliterator leant forward, the glowing pits of his eyes reaching a searing brightness and a wave of blistering heat washing from his fanged maw. Upon his shoulder the barrel of the ancient plasma cannon began to glow, quickly reaching an incandescent glow. The shining weapon vomited forth a searing ball of plasma with a metallic _hiss_. The roiling ball of energy radiated an intense heat as it hurtled towards the Guardsmen. The cannon quickly fired another two sun-hot balls of energy to follow the first.

The glowing weapon quickly cooled as jets of blurred air were shot from the sides. Redivivus raised his arm and the harsh bark of his Autocannon tolled as the heavy slugs were blasted towards the Imperium's soldiers.

In his blind rage, the Obliterator hadn't even recognised the pause in the other Iron Warriors actions, ignoring protocol and judgement of rank in his feral state.


----------



## Euphrati

Marble crunched beneath his weight as Severus charged through the gap, the air was thick with the smell of cordite and shattered stone. For a fraction of a second he was blind, then his warp-touched anatomy adjusted to the sudden change in light and what lay beyond the gaping wound in the flank of the bastion was laid out before Severus in glorious detail.

The chamber was a sprawl of polished stone, resplendent in ornate scroll work and inlaid mosaics, yet a heartbeat later the scene dissolved in the angry red beam of a las bolt that hissed bare millimeters by his head. Severus bellowed in rage as he brought Shattersoul up as a hail of fire rained down upon him, licking at the blackened surface of the shield with ozone stink.

Behind him his men burst forth through the torn wall, the thunderclap of a teleportation momentarily eclipsing the wrath of fire cutting the air around him. Severus gave a low growl and began to advance with powerful strides; he had only traversed a handful of meters when a deep bellowing ripped through the chamber. Severus cursed and dropped to a knee; bringing Shattersoul up just in time to shield from the roaring bolt of plasma that screamed through the air above him, followed by two more in quick succession. The Obliterator was blood drunk, lost in the red rage that burn all but the lust of battle from his mind.

He rolled aside, out of direct line of fire before speaking over the company channel,

‘My men; lend your fire to our blessed brethren! Let them take the honour of this kill and, if you value your soul, stand clear of their path and follow them in!’

Severus gave a fang-filled grin as he switched to a private channel, his voice a low growl,

‘Redivivus, my brother… can you hear them? They cower in fear like rats in the shattered shadow of their corpse-emperor. I can taste it in their scents, just beyond that mighty portal brother. Tear it from the very wall and feast upon their broken bodies!’


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel was adrift in a sea of madness. All around him he heard the souls of his men and the maggots called Guardsmen screaming in rage and agony respectively. He heard the sounds of ancient warfare long since past, sounds that were familiar to him. Suddenly he was away from there, and in the past.

Zamiel, his last name eluded him, stood before the barricades at Istvaan V. Around him were his brothers, at a time when his respect for them was above nonexistent, and back when he was not touched by the warp. His crop of close cut brownish hair around a fine face, hard and strong. A Son of Perturabo he had been called for his likeness to the Primarch, back when that would have meant something to him. Ahead were the retreating loyalists of the Iron Hands, Salamanders and Raven Guard Legions, they knew nothing of this deceit, it thrilled Zamiel. The irony of it all, to destroy them like this, it was exhilarating. A shriek resounded and the sky was alight with fire, it was time.

Zamiel raised his plasma pistol and fired, the very first shot fired, and struck a Salamander in the chest. Instantly hundreds of shots rang out and struck into the retreating loyalists, caught between the hammer and the target. "Yes brothers. Kill them!, destroy the servants of the False Emperor. Iron Within!" Zamiel shouted, he was responded to with a hearty Iron Without from his men. The loyalists fired what shots they could but none met their mark. "Brothers, Charge!" Zamiel ordered as he leapt over the barricade, followed by his squads, and charged into the loyalist line. He thumbed the activation rune on his chainsword and struck, slicing a Raven Guard's hand off at the wrist, then spinning on his heel and decapitating the fool. Raising his plasma pistol he fired several shots, two hitting loyalists in the chest, incinerating them, and one hitting a Devastator marine in his gun, causing it to explode violently. Zamiel chuckled at the irony of that. Ahead he saw the Primarch Fulgrim, engaged with Ferrus Manus. It appeared as if Fulgrim was winning, good. One less loyalist Primarch to deal with. Ahead he also saw the Red Angel, Angron and his equerry Kharn tearing into the Iron Hands, he saw Mortarion and his Deathshroud hacking loyalists to pieces with their Manreapers. And at the centre he saw Horus, the Warmaster, their new leader, he and his Mournival, or what was left of it, blasting and piercing Astartes in their path.

Zamiel slashed outwards, hacking a Salamander's leg off at the knee, then fired point blank into his head. These loyalist scum were tough but not invincible, they were already dead, just not sent off yet. Then he saw it. He saw him. Ahead several Salamanders were falling before a single warrior, the warrior had crimson skin and a ridge of horns on his head. A massive crustacean claw adorned his right arm and a thick blade of bone his left. This lone warrior, a Word Bearer from his iconography, was killing several times his number without any exertion. This was what Zamiel aspired to, power. The power to slay enemies that most would consider impossible, this was what he wanted. A smile leaked out across Zamiel's face as he charged forward to aid the Word Bearer, knowing that his chance was here.

Then in an instant, Zamiel had returned. The black orb in front of him had taken his men, for once he was less reprehensive about calling them brothers, and was changing them further. The Warp was blessing them, it was about time Zamiel thought. He had always thought they were not changed enough.

Riggonen's head became more canine and elongated while thick dreadlocks spilt from his head and his claws became sharper, and his teeth bigger until his upper teeth had descended down past his lips and more horns jutted from his head until at least four emerged in spirals.

Edrad ballooned out. His skin wept with pus as his innards leaked out, his intestines exposed at his gut and his paws becoming sharper and more defined. A new horn grew out to replace his broken one, the broken horn breaking off entirely. His face grew thinner and more refined until his neck was thin and his head pushed forward. Two crests, pus covered and boil ridden, emerged from the sides of his head, framing his new disgusting face.

Dariula became much thinner. His serpentine head split into two heads, one pinkish and with sharp fangs, an aroma of desire radiating from it, while the other head was purplish and with a long tongue, constantly changing colours, while bloodlust radiated from it. His legs became arched like a Daemonettes while his skin became a mix of pink and purple.

Meskias writhed and shifted, his head merging into his body until a gaping maw emerged on his chest followed by a pair of beady glowing eyes in sunken pits. His legs immolated and turned to flaming appendages that shifted as he walked or ran while his arms became shifting masses of crystal that grew and shrunk as he attacked. Runes and sigils burnt into his chest glew balefully and faces writhed in agony as they emerged and moaned their laments.

This was beautiful. To see his men changed his like into true Daemon-kin was beautiful to Zamiel. Suddenly Exaltius writhed within him, the change was coming. The shadowy mask split into a hideous smile, stretching as far as possible as Zamiel floated into the air. His horns became jagged and taller while his claws grew out and shone like metal. Warp lightning danced across his frame, from claw to claw and and horn to horn while his wings immolated with green warp fire. Bones began to erupt from his body and spread across his glowing veins like an exo-skeleton. They spread across the ridges of his wings which forever burnt with green immolation. Finally his shadowy mask became thicker, the red eyes and red maw becoming brighter and more jagged.

"THE GODS BLESS ME WITH THEIR MIGHT. I SHALL SLAY THESE WEAKLINGS AND SHOW THE FOOLS THAT I AM FORCED TO CALL BROTHERS WHAT TRUE STRENGTH IS!" Zamiel screamed, his voice spreading across the entire bastion. The Possessed marine charged into the Guardsmen, readying his new powers for the carnage.


----------



## Concrete Hero

Redivivus was pounding forwards as Severus spoke in his ear, Falcis and Pangorax had dragged themselves into the chamber, roaring and following the lead Obliterator. What the Captain said made little sense in language form, though the living engine of destruction picked up the meaning; Terrified prey fit for slaughter. Twin scything beams of intense red light smashed into the portal from behind him, his Brothers adding their weaponry to his.

Redivivus voice boomed in answer to Severus, though it was little more than a bellowing roar bursting from the Vox, an incomprehensible cry of anger and seething rage.

The Cult slid to a halt as it crashed into the Guardsmen, red lines of heat had splashed along their armoured bulks, though not one had slowed, or even showed any signs of displeasure. Falcis swung a ridiculously long blade, more like a steel paddle than a sword, yet still it cut one of the Guardsmen cleanly in two with a colossal swipe. Another wash of bright pink fire spilled from Redivivus' maw as he fell into the Soldiers, slashing and swiping with no regards to any real target or foe, simply relishing in the feel of pulped bodies and blood flowing through his claws.

Ignoring the very remains of the Guardsmen, the Cult charged the imposing gateway. He shot a flickering image through the minds of his Cult-Brothers and as one, each raised an arm. From the trio burst a cone of sun-like brightness, flashing the chamber a pure white and drowning it in the sound of a thousand jet engines. The heat blast had been so intense it had practically vaporised the upper half of the portal, pools of running liquid metal washed around the base.

Without losing pace the three Obliterators slammed into the remaining segment of the doorway, a mighty clang sounding through the chamber as it shook under their weight. Powered gauntlets began to crackle and hum as the energy fields engaged, coating their claws in a destructive power sheath. With metallic engine-roars, the Obliterators drove their Claws into the metal, their touch melting away the surface and sinking deep. Pistons and mechanics whirred as the Obliterators strained against the armoured gateway, resisting their pull. Though it could not last the pressure, in an explosion of metal shards the doorway was torn apart. Each Obliterator discarded a huge chunk of the metal, throwing it to the floor with a resounding clang before smashing aside any remaining prongs and lumbering after fresh meat. The destruction of the armoured doorway had taken merely seconds.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius charged through the lines of guardsman like a human battering ram. None could stop him. He was invincible. He was clad in indestructible terminator armour, and the guardsmen's armour was little more protection than paper. Corius laughed as the guardsmen's blood splattered his armour which was already turning a deep crimson. Several las-rounds were flying past Corius and his men and the desperately feeble raptor units. This was demonstrated when one las round struck a raptor in the face and his head exploded in a gory fountain of blood. The sergeant seemed bothered by this and was about to embark on a suicide mission towards the large group of guardsmen. There were too many. Surely he realised this! No, Corius saw it in his eyes, he was going to die for a man the Gods had taken. Whilst he didn't have a great deal of respect for the sergeant, he didn't want to see him die. He grabbed the shoulder of the sergeant "Maximus, why would you die for him? He was weak, and the Gods don't help the weak. Are you weak? If so, I might as well end your life here, and at least give you the honour of the death at the hands of an Iron warrior!"


----------



## Captain Stillios

As Maximus looked on Quar one of his oldest friends and comrades was shot through the head, things suddenly started to happen in slow motion, first Quars body smashed to the ground, then when he tried to avenge him by killing the scum who had fired the shot, Corius who had just ran through the smoke grabbed him and held him back then said "Maximus, why would you die for him? He was weak, and the Gods don't help the weak. Are you weak? If so, I might as well end your life here, and at least give you the honour of the death at the hands of an Iron warrior!".

Hearing his friend insulted by this fool was more than Maximus could take, "Think you so?" he raged "Quar fought and died for the Company and you repay him by insulting his memory!"
A fit of madness took him and he hammered his fist into Corius' face slamming against a wall.
Firing his jump pack he and his squad dived in the wake of Severus killing left and right as they went.
Losing all tactical thought he roared and dived into the guardsmen with his squad in tow.


----------



## Euphrati

Somewhere under the bestial rage that gripped the Obliterator Severus’s words found a mote of consciousness and the resulting effect was deliciously destructive. A feral grin pulled itself over Severus’s visage at the sight, nothing about the gesture was compassionate in the slightest. Severus wasted no time in following behind the powerful forms of the Cult, shouting to his men over the screams of the dying as he did so,

‘Perciuos, you are to take the control room. Once it is secure alert me and I will command you from there. Corius, brother, I am counting on you to inspect the path that was not in the briefing. I will be expecting a detailed report as soon as you are able,'

Severus cast a glance over his mighty shoulder at the others, a piercing look that seemed to delve into the very soul of his men,

'Kerias, you are with me to the command room. I will be stopping for nothing, so keep up!’

With that Severus sprinted after the lumbering forms of the Obliterators, leaping through the still molten hole in the doors with a echoing battle cry.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius hissed at the insolent raptor sergeant. First he questioned Severus' orders, and now he had struck him for making the observation that his squad mate was weak. If he had been strong the Gods would have saved him, or he would have been able to dodge the shot from these petty guardsmen. Corius contemplated ordering his squad to open-fire on the raptors, or teleporting on top of the raptor sergeant and bringing his body crashing to the ground where he could ruin it with his claws. But even if this sergeant couldn't see sense, Corius could. To strike his company mate was to invite the wrath of Severus and the Black Apostle. Still, the need for revenge burned in his hearts. Just then Severus' voice came over the vox and told him he was to make for the uncharted path and provide intel of what was there. Corius knew better than to ignore direct orders for the sake of petty revenge against a insubordinate like Maximus. 

However, Corius opened a private channel to Severus and spoke "My lord, Perciuos seems to be becoming a bit of a...liability. He questions your orders, would send his squad and himself to be with chaos all for the sake of one of his squad mates, and his temper seems ready to explode as he has already struck a blow against me. I have only allowed him to still be standing because I would not want to displease you, as you may still find some use for him, even if I can think of none. I will investigate the path, but I would ask you to give me a chance later to teach him some RESPECT!" Corius spat the last word, the desire to torture the pathetic excuse for an Iron warrior was getting stronger the more he thought about it. Even so, Severus would decide his fate, but Corius offered a silent prayer to the Gods that he would not be merciful and Corius could enact his revenge on him. 

He opened another line to his squad "Men, we are to explore the path which we have received no intel on. Keep your eyes open, we don't know what awaits us there and Severus wants a detailed report. Everything could be important." Finally, Corius opened a line to Maximus, he opened with a snigger "Quar was weak. Thousands of cultists ad Helgians died to breach this bastion, ad he was no stronger than they. If he was he would still be here. Look at my squad! I have served with them for millennia, and never has one of them faultered! Look at yours! We have't been here five minutes ad three of you squad mates are dead! Face it, your squad is weak, ad that is exploited by your tactical ineptness! Before the day is out, more of you will have faultered, ad we will still be strong. No wonder me and Redivivus were chosen to accompany our Captain, and you were left in our wake! HAHAHAHAHA" Corius' laugh was cruel, condescending and vindictive. Corius hoped the sergeant felt angry, and he hoped he wanted to hurt Corius, for in his blind rage he could defeat him, just like he had done with the whore-son Imperial Fist. And with that Corius and his squad strode into the unknown path, ready to demolish anything that opposed them...


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel's muscles tensed as he tore a hapless Guardsmen in two, not allowing himself to slow he lunged forward and drove his now even sharper claws into the chest of a Sergeant, tearing him apart. He didn't need those weaklings he had called his squad, they were pathetic and now they were dying for their weakness. Zamiel muttered a brief prayer to the Chaos Gods, to not show any mercy to his squad as their souls joined with Chaos, and then allowed his Daemon instincts to take over again as he plunged into the carnage.

He could sense his fellow Iron Warriors closing in and fighting the enemy, or what passed for an enemy. Zamiel longed to face the only enemy he had ever felt could test his skills, Astartes. The Possessed Marine allowed himself a moment of memory as he spun and allowed his wings to slice Guardsmen apart, he remembered the last Astartes to die facing him. It was a Grey Knight, a Daemonhunter of the Ordo Malleus, one of the Imperium's pathetic attempts at fighting Chaos with their false faith, who's skull now hung in Zamiel's chambers along with the Grey Knights armour and dessicated corpse which had been suitably defiled.

_'I shall purge thee foul traitor. And the filthy Daemon that wears thy skin!'_ Justicar Fenix shouted as he readied his Nemesis Halberd and pointed it at the Iron Warrior in front of him. Zamiel snickered as he felt the Grey Knight's psychic wards assaulting Exaltius, who cowered within him. Zamiel recited the Litany of Defilement and Desecration as he thrust forward on his wings and clawed at the Grey Knight who parried to the side and lashed out in a wide arc, Zamiel landed and leapt up passing over the swinging Halberd and spewed a torrent of warp-flame at his foe, whose armour protected him. Both combatants were facing the opponents of their lives and only one could walk away alive, Zamiel swore it would be him. Allowing his wings to spread out he leapt forward and at the last second side-stepped to the right when the Justicar thrust his Halberd forward, bringing his wing down to slice it in two Zamiel grinned as he saw the Justicar's eyes widen in shock, _'Your time is done Imperial maggot!'_ was the last thing that Justicar Fenix heard as a pair of razor-sharp claws pierced his throat and tore his head clean off, his spinal cord hanging loosely from the end.

Zamiel could not control his elation. A Daemonhunter had fallen before him, a foe that was born to destroy his kind and he had slew it. A mighty howl burst from the Daemon-kin's shadowy mask as he roared at the heavens, crimson and bloody, above as if daring the Imperium to send more and more, he would crush them. As a final act of spite before he left Zamiel dragged the fallen Grey Knight with him, but not before making sure that he was seen dragging it back by the retreating Grey Knights. The knowledge that one of their Justicar's had fallen and that his body and gene-seed were in the hands of the Arch-enemy would burn at them more then any physical wound Zamiel could deal. Nobody else knew though, they would want the Daemonhunter's armour and gene-seed for themselves and Zamiel would not allow anyone else to defile the corpse, it was his trophy and was locked away safely.

A lasbolt searing past his side brought Zamiel back. Piles of corpses surrounded him on all sides, including a decent number of Helghans that Zamiel had killed in his reverie. Who cared, they were filth and easily replaceable. Zamiel turned to see a platoon of Stormtroopers firing in his direction, led by a Commissar. _'Fall before my might. And know that your False Emperor..'_ Zamiel roared, taking off at full speed into the enemy and lashing at them with his claws, sending limbs and heads flying away, _'HAS FORSAKEN YOU!!'_.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Update for the Second Company and Luminus]

Redivivus; Having recieved your orders and vaguely understanding you bullrush through the molten hole that was once the blast doors to the barracks. As you enter you feel small pricks all over your body and can feel your cult brothers' annoyance at such a feeling. Staring in front of you you see too many gaurdsmen to count ahead of you behind whatever cover they could find within the barracks, faces full of fear staring at you as two Commissars whip them into firing squads. On the ceiling there are a few sentry turrets that have already begun to open fire on you. 

The room you are now in is a large rectangle with a big flight of steps in the middle leading to the next floor and next level of the barracks. As of yet you have only run into gaurdsmen wielding lasguns but who knows what can await you on the upper levels. Do what you were made to do and destroy as many as possible, blaze a path for your captain and brothers.

Severus; As you give your men their orders and follow Redivivus through the breach and into the barracks your mechanical eye brings up the plans telling you how far you need to go until you reach the Command Center. Five stories up, a long way to go on foot, and now you must plow through multitudes of gaurdsmen who now will have no doubt what is heading towards them. Yet you feel nothing along the lines of fear only an anticipation to get to the top and claim your prize for not only your own glory but that of the Second. 

Once inside the barracks Redivivus and his cult brothers are taking most of the fire, eighty gaurdsmen are thrown about on this floor taking cover from you and your men and shooting back when they can. Two Commissars stand at the back of this floor yelling at their men to stand firm and hold you as long as possible and to die with the Emperor's name on their lips, above their are four sentry turrets attached to the ceiling. The room is a large rectangle filled with bunks and tables and in the center is a large staircase leading up to the next level, this is the route you must take to get to the top, although what awaits you on the next floor above you do not know. Yet you have a hunch and figure that the Imperials upstairs now know who and what is filling their breach, kill all the guardsmen down on this level and make your way upstairs, or let your men deal with these rats and head upstairs on your own.

Kerias; You have received your orders and will follow your captain to the Command Center. As you follow him through the molten hole that were the blast doors you and your men see the enemy laid bare before you, your eyes giving you information that no biological one ever could. Eighty gaurdsmen are strewn throughout this floor with two Commissars and four ceiling mounted sentry turrets, the Obliterators are taking the brunt of the fire leaving you and your men relatively safe to fire at will and kill who you wish. 

Yet your eyes tell you something else that is going on on the floor just above your head. Not only are their just as many, if not more, guardsmen upstairs but you can see more turrets and two heavey stubbers being hastily set up. Tell your captain this and then proceed to slaughter the men on this floor.

Perciuous; Angered beyond belief at Corius's remark you fight the urge to rip his head off as he turns his back and walks away from you. Turning you take your men and make your way down the path to the Control Room, as you reach a bend you see the path that Corius is to take and send a prayer to the gods that he is killed or worse. As you turn the bend lasfire peppers down the hallway and you take cover behind the corner. 

There are fifteen gaurdsmen at the end of the hallway that turns into another bend and then leads to the Control Room. Two sentry turrets line the ceilings and are the first things you should most likely get rid of, they are the ones that will rip through your armor the quickest. Once you have killed the gaurdsmen and gotten rid of the turrets make your way to the Control Room and I will update you.

Corius; You laugh as you go down the path that was not in the briefing, thoughts of how to torture Perciuous going through your sick head. As you rush down the hallway you realize that it starts to take a sudden decline and head downwards, this intrigues you and you believe that you are heading to a weapons cache or something along those lines. The thought of how proud your captain will be and what rewards you would get if you captured weapons for the Eighth fogging your mind until you turn a corner and a round hits your shouldergaurd and causes you to take a step back and seek cover. 

At the end of this hallway you can see four sentry turrets accompanied by two heavey stubber emplacements with guardsmen manning the two stubbers. You try to teleport but you soon realize that something is interfering with it and that it will not work, you have to take these out the hard way, once you have dispatched these obstacles head toward the end of the hallway and I will update you.

Luminus; As your shuttle races through the atmosphere of the planet you realize that there is no anti-aircraft fire in this sector, you smile at the thoroughness of your brothers and the excitement that you have at meeting them heightens. Your mind goes back to your first and only meeting of the Black Apostle, it had been one thousand years after what the Imperials called the Great War the Heresy. The Iron Warriors had collected a large force and were aiming at a cluster of forge worlds nearer to the galactic core.

The Eighth had been asked to aide in the assault because of their position on the easter fringes, they would come up behind the forge worlds while the other two grand companies led by Berrossus and Ferrox would hit it from the front. You had joined the siege with Ferrox's company who had been a long time friend of yours, during the first few weeks of the siege you had only seen pics of the Eighth and what they were accomplishing on the other side of the battlefield.

Your original assessment was that it was simply a very large Grand Company and that there was nothing spectacular about it. Yet as you watched recordings and read reports you soon noticed the thoroughness with which they committed each siege, everything was wiped out, yet they also salvaged and kept what they could to use against the enemy. While every Iron Warrior was taught to do this the skill with which these brothers did it astounded you and you could not wait to meet in the middle.

Once the last forge world was besieged you got to meet your brothers, the first ones you met in the briefing were the four company captains at the time, Barok who was the first captain towered above the others, his stone cold emotionless face hard and craggy, his Olympian Terminator armor bulky and full of inbuilt weapons systems. Severus, the captain of the Second, had the look of a natural born killer and leader, his massive hammer and shield strapped to his back. Goudon was the captain of the Third, he was short and full of scars and had bulky siege pattern armor, while the fourth captain Aresk was skinny and lithe yet his newer armor, chainmail cape and the way he carried himself showed he was merciless and cold.

The Black Apostle himself was short for an Astartes yet he was just as wide as he was tall and his Siege Pattern Terminator armor was glistening with weapons gallore. His face was sculpted and he had long brown hair and cold blue eyes, his second in command, the massive Dreadnought Shamesu, rivaled even the mighty Berrossus in size and power.

Your mind snaps back to the present and you look down at the battlefield and see a massive black orb shooting out bolts of warp lightning and a warpstorm raging above. You realize that the Apostle must have been gifted with daemonhood and is now returning after a long stay. As the shuttle lands you seek out the nearest captain and find one with the markings of the Fourth, from his psychic pulse you can tell that this is Aresk and are relieved to see someone you remember. Go and speak to him and the sergeant that is with him to get an idea of what is happening. 

[Deathbringer and Prothor i am still waiting on you two to post so that i can update those that are outside. If you could PM me when i can expect a post i would be very grateful.]


----------



## Euphrati

The very air seemed thick with the pure hate of the Obliterators, washing over Severus’s senses and singing through his veins like the beckoning cry of a siren. Through the heady rush of the Obliterators’ rage, another hate flashed hot as a bellowed forge. Severus spun on his heel, anger rolling off his massive form in almost tangible waves and the baneful glow of his bionic eye flaring like the heart of a sun. 

His voice carried the full weight of ten thousand years of battle, echoing from every corner of the great room,

*‘SILENCE!’*

Slowly, Severus stepped back through the rent in the great doors, the roars of the Obliterators behind him momentarily forgotten as he stalked back towards his men. Oathbreaker’s surface reflected the scene in hues of bloody crimson, the skin-bound haft creaking under the flexing, iron-shod grip of Severus’s gauntleted hand.

‘I care *Nothing* for your petty squabbling nor do I have the time to waste upon it if I did! I have given you orders and I expect those orders to be obeyed _immediately and without question_. Now *GO*… and beseech the Primarch that I do not have cause to present your flayed skins to the Black Apostle as a offering on his return!’

Severus snarled before turning and loping back into the waiting melee, raising Shattersoul and unleashing a torrent of fire from the integrated storm bolter. The screaming black rounds tore apart four hapless guardsmen in a fountain of blood and bone, the deaths doing nothing to ease Severus’s anger as he charged forward to bathe in the hot brutality of close combat.


----------



## deathbringer

Every step was in tune with the rythm of his heart beat and he trundled forward, his eyes fixed upon the crumpled body of Arkias. The gunfire of his company echoed, a ghostly harmony of forboding that echoed eerily in his mind. His sword was in his hand as the guardsman infront of him fell parting like a waves as heavy bolters shells tore them down like staves of wheat, following to form a horizontal honour guard for his progress.

The crumpled body of the astartes lay torn apart, oozing blood afore the gates and Lynx felt tears of regret welling inside him as he approached. Ahead of him just beyond the body hovered a black orb, shimmering and crackling like a blackened twisted moon. It contorted bursting with a supressed energy and Lynx supressed the urge to prstrate himself before the orb.

"Behold" he roared above the shrieks of fear and cracks of gunfire "Behold our lord returns and our every kill brings him closer too us... Kill them... Kill them all". The vox crackled and spat distorted by echoes of his words as he moved forwards towards the prostrate body as the storm frced him to his knees, a sudden weight placed upon his body, forcing him to the ground.

A group of astartes rushed towards the black orb to reach a group of hostiles hiding in cover and lightening crashed out, eviscerating hostiles and brothers alike and Lynx flinched. Yet his eyes were fixed upon Arkias's mangled remains and he pushed forwards, resolve stiffened, the Black Apostle had to be told. 

He saw Shamesu eyes fixed upon him and he opened a channel to the great warrior

"I will tell the Black Apostle myself Lord Shamesu. This mistake was made by my company and thus is my responsbility. It is mine to bear."

He ducked and pushed onwards a lightening cracked over his head and he heard a screanm of agony. Behind him, the sorceror rose into the air, limbs flailing as he was sucked into the orb, and it swelled with a sudden grim light.

"Kill them quickly brothers, the Black Apostle's return depends upon it."

His plasma cannon rose into the air and fixed upon a group cowering behind cover and he reaimed so the burst of plasma would fly over the boxes. The cannon bucked and it the crate was blasted apart and limbs and body parts flew backwards whilst a screaming man crawled from behind the box a howl written across his face before he was silenced by a stray round. 

Arkias's hand was ice cold as Lynx touched it with a single finger before gripping the limp wrist and pulling the corpse towards him. Cradling it in his arms he turned to find Lion behind him, spear across his chest, blood seeping from the crackling blades.

Together they crouched close to the black orb as lightening flashed before there face singing the hairs upon Arkias's head and they shuffled away cowering from the deadly flashes that were the brink between life and death

Ahead he saw the numbers dwindling, as those guardsman in the open scampered for cover and he roared his orders desperate to take control of the situation

"Heavy bolters on the open men, Lascannons on the boxes, Autocannons fire upon the men left open when the boxes are destroyed. Prothor, close in the day muat be won"

His eyes fell upon Cheetah who was still striken faced and his fingers clenched on Arkias's arms and he whispered to himself

"The apostle must return quickly" his eyes filled with tears as he stared at Cheetah "... for his sake"


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Prothor Ironfist has recently told me that he will no longer take part in this Rp due to him moving. this update is for those of you that are outside.]

Everyone Outside; As the gaurdsmen dwindle and are killed quickly the orb grows larger and larger by the second, the bolts of lightning starting to become fewer in number and simply crackling across its surface. Yet a few bolts reach out and a few men on the field, one hits Aresk and another hits Shamesu, both champions take the hits and bathe in the power as the bolts play across their bodies and then retreat as if satisfied. The other four bolt that are still holding the bodies of Zamiel's squad grow in size and, to the surprise of all the younger recruits within the Eighth, their bodies begin to morph and change.

There is a bright flash originating from each body and when they are gone you see four massive heavily armored ancient Iron Warriors. The armor they were is akin to what you all know as Tactical Dreadnought armor but bristles with twice as much inbuilt weapon systems and much more armor. Huge black and yellow chevrons run along their bodies on thier armor and each one has a head that mirrors the symbol of your great legion, yet each one has a difference also.

One weilds two huge powerfists on top of all the other weapons he has, another two lightning claws, one a massive warhammer, and the last a massive spiked mace. Each one's armor is blackened iron plates like those of Arkias and his squad, huge tubes that look like veins protrude from joints and disappear into their armor, a mercurial silver fluid flowing through them. These are the Apostle's Elit Gaurd, the men who have served as his personal squad since he was incepted into the Iron Warriors Legion, and they are bound to him.

As the bolts leave them they spread out around the black orb and open fire on those gaurdsmen around them with not even half of the systems in their armor, each one a silent statue as it fires.

Eisen; Aresk turns his head to look at you and you get the strange feeling that he is smiling beneath his helm,* "You should consider yourself lucky Eisen, to see this is truly a gift to us indeed! Our lord has returned!" *he turns his head back to look at the orb and a bolt of lightning shoots out hitting him in the chest. The bright light blinds you for a few seconds and you close your eyes, when you open them you see the bolt still connecting with Aresk as it moves slowly over his body as if looking him over.

Quickly it shoots back into the orb and Aresk is laughing, seeing the look of awe and confusion on your face he continues, *"He remembers me boy and still finds me fitting to lead. That was our lord's way of......seeing into us."* he laughs again before continuing, *"We will continue killing the Imperials until none are left, once that is done we will wait for our lord!"* He takes his pistol in hand and his sword in the other and points at the group of gaurdsmen he wants you to kill, ten of them cowering in a crater just beneath you. Kill them, once you have done this you will see a ship landing just behind you and Aresk and an Iron Warrior step out to meet you, this is Masked Jackal's character, speak with him if you want.

Pavor; As you kill the gaurdsmen around you with reckless abandon you get closer and closer to the orb. A terminator in Iron Warriors' color and his men are a few feet away from you and you let loose on them in your haze of hate and anger, two of them you kill instantly, and the others you tear apart in your rage.

Astartes around you look at you in horror but realize that you cannot be stopped and steer clear of you. Suddenly something hits your chassis hard and you take a few steps back trying to find what had hurt you, looking toward the bastion you see three heavey weapons emplacements at ground level in the wall still operating. Get rid of these however you see fit and then if you want you can enter the bastion through its front gates that will be right by you, or keep on killing gaurdsmen.

Lynx; As you think of what fate wil befall your friend Cheetah you look beyond the orb and see Prothor and his men get torn to pieces by the Fourth Company's dreadnought, Pavor Man-Flayer. Their deaths are almost too much for you but you steel yourself and carry on knowing that the Apostle would most certainly kill you for your weakness in spirit. 

As the orb grows larger and the gaurdsmen are falling quickly you have time to consider what you will say to your lord once he has returned. What is your plan? What will you tell him? As you think on this a bolt strikes out and hits one of Cheetah's men, the one who had actually first hit Arkias, and he crackles before he explodes and you see his soul fly screaming towards the orb.

Zamiel; As you gain your new powers and kill gaurdsmen with reckless abandon you hear a mighty and deep voice in your head, *"Zamiel, I am pleased with what you have become since my banishment. As you know my elite gaurd lost their captain in that battle and I am in need of a replacement, I am offering this to you now, ultimate power if only you serve me."* You eagerly agree and feel a power flowing through and realize you are now connected to the Prince himself, yet the connection is not complete as he awaits your answer.

You see your men morph into the Apostle's Elit Gaurd and open fire on those enemies wihtin range, the powerful suits of armor they wear amazes you and you hunger for that power for you have seen them fight before both before and after the Heresy. Give the Apostle your answer.


----------



## Fumble Tumble

Kerias smirked, 'stupid soldiers' he thought to himself 'didn't they know that Severus' loyalty wasn't to one of the single of the squad leaders, but to all of them, it was his responsibility to honour all of them, not a select few'

As Kerias thought about the fact that the men were such stupid soldiers, he strode through the burnt and melted doorway, he saw the oblitorators running, or rather, barreling forward, flinging imperial guardsmen into the air, to land broken and shattered on the ground.

Suddenly the blueprints to this building came up on his eyes, before laying itself open virtually, then showing men in the next floor setting up two heavy stubbers, there were lots of turrets, about nine he could count, along with about one hundred and fifty soldier hurriedly setting up barricades and making portable bunkers, in general getting ready for the approach of the second company.

"CAPTAIN SEVERUS" he roared into the vox before calling "after we slaughter this pitiful resistance, there is a much larger force barricading up in the room adjacent to the control room, i suggest we proceed with caution after this room"

Then his eyes cleared, his sight being replaced with a battlefield, people strewn everywhere, and the captain and oblitorators destroying the small resistance left, but the turrets were still shooting away, their bullets not doing anything but soon could do something

"men take out those turrets" he roared, raising his lascannon and blasting a hole in one, sending it pitfalling to the ground, landing on two guardsmen with a crash, killing both.

Kerias lowered his lascannon as various other members of the squad fired at the turrets, and in a few short moments all the turrets were destroyed and hadn't caused any death to the iron warriors, Kerias placed his lascannon leaning against the wall he was near, before ripping out his boltpistol and his powersword.

"fix bayonets" he said quietly, then with a great shout, he ran into the nearest group of guardsmen, followed by iron warriors with bolters and bayonets, the heavy weapons unleashing hell from the barrels of their guns.

He jumped into the midst of the warriors, spinning around, his boltpistol barking, blowing off arms, heads, and legs, caving in chests, his powersword slicing out in front of him, cutting one soldier in half, decapitating another, he thrust his sword forward, stabbing into anothers gut, causing him to fall with a gurgle.

Kerias' men crashed into the broken ranks of soldiers behind him, their guns barking, and men falling, winning the skirmish before it had even started, over fifteen soldiers dead, butchered by the fury of the Havoc squad of the third company.

with a gesture, Kerias signalled to his men to return to the gate, collecting the others, and his gun, before striding after the other great warriors of the third company. There was no one left alive in their wake.


----------



## unxpekted22

Oh he had been so right! So glad he had betrayed his old empire. Mankind had nothing like this. Seeking out the Iron warriors was the best thing he had ever done with his pitiful little hive world life. 

Eisen felt lucky indeed, as well as impressed by these mysterious lightning bolts, the language of his blackapostle. 

"This day just keeps getting better!" he yelled as he looked down in the direction of his captain's metal index finger, ordering the death of a group of guardsmen below. Eisen rang out in laughter, bellowing his metallic voxed voice through the air as he bounded down the makeshift steps of the corpse strewn hill, his short sword raised to the sky. He made a final jump to the hard surface of the stone laden ground and dove onto the the first guardsmen nearest in the crater, tackling him to the ground as his squad followed suit, slaughtering the other nine guardsmen in the crater with yells of manic glee.

He sat himself down on the man's chest cracking his ribs and spoke calmly, "I wonder what your life has been like." His horns casting long shadows over the man's face. "Personally...I think....you should have committed suicide, you itsy bitsy little thing!" Eisen laughed on further, so easy it was! He could have anything he wanted, just like his captain! So he started by ripping the man's ears off, punching him in the nose, jabbing his pointed armored fingers into the eyes!

His squad gathered round him...chainsaws lightly humming, staggered breathing. He got up, "Bolters it is!" he shouted as the squirming body wreathed in pain below, now blind deaf and dumb.

Eisen turned around to a strong presence arriving behind him, it was new, different from what he felt from the orb and his captain. Endless rounds released from tainted bolter barrels, created epileptic flashes in front of his figure as he coldly looked over his shoulder, looking though the dim red eyes of his helmet's lenses.

leaving his men to waltz in the crater, he turned with a swift spin on the heel and walked back towards this new character as Aresk greeted him, also having come down from the pile of bodies beside them.

"pretty spear." he noted aloud.


----------



## Lord of the Night

The Commissar's knees were smashed he was forced to the ground, his head caught by Zamiel's claws. _'Your False Emperor has abandoned you weakling, know that as you.. perish'_ Zamiel says, pausing to crush the maggot's skull before finishing his insult. Corpses lay in droves around him, both Guardsmen and Helghan soldiers all torn to shreds, Zamiel cared not for the Helghans who should have known better then to get close to him.

Ahead he saw Pavor, one of the legion's ancients, shred the fool Prothor Ironfist and his vaunted Terminators. Zamiel could not suppress his joy and allowed a long laugh, the first good laugh he had had for eons, to burst forth. Zamiel strode forward and gazed down at Prothor's corpse. _'Give my regards to the Chaos Gods as they flay your soul, scum'_ Zamiel taunted, spitting on the Terminator's corpse, his face melting.

Zamiel's shadowy masks expression altered from a smug smile to outright shock, he could hear his voice resounding in his soul and his mind, the voice of the Black Apostle Vilhelm himself. The promises of power filled Zamiel who grinned widely at this prospect, to lead the Elite Guard of the Black Apostle. He turned and saw his men morphed into the Elites, weapons bristling from them as they tore apart hordes of Guardsmen in silence. He could feel Exaltius roaring in anticipation, writhing under his skin.

_'I.... accept your offer Black Apostle. I shall lead your Guard and accept your power. For the glory of CHAOS!'_ Zamiel spoke with relish, Exaltius rising within him turning his skin a mottled golden colour and his blackened veins to a bluish white, the colour of the Sea of Souls. Glory would be his yet.


----------



## Masked Jackal

It took very little time for Luminus to start his descent down towards the surface in his private shuttle. Only two of his aides accompanied him, the only two he knew would be powerful enough to resist the maelstrom of psychic energy below.

Apart from that storm however, nothing disturbed Luminus' mind as the shuttle made landfall. There was no anti-aircraft fire, a fact which assured Luminus of this Eight Company's competence. He knew them, from a thousand years before, during the Great War, when he had served alongside them.

At first, their repuatation hadn't seemed to indicate anything spectacular, but after reading the battle reports, something that the Iron Warriors still held to, Luminus realized they were a cohesive and powerful fighting force, in short a Company worthy of Perturabo's legacy.

There were four captains back then, though Luminus knew not whether they were all still alive. Barok, the weapon-laden Terminator. Severus, who had the truly disturbing eyes of a killer distinguished among killers. Goudon with his siege-pattern armour, and Aresk, who was cold and ruthless. 

The truly distinguished one though, was the Black Apostle himself. The brown hair and blue eyes of his former face seemed absurd. That face no longer existed. And now Luminus would see what his *new* face was. It would surely be magnificent, with this storm pronouncing his likely daemonhood. A black orb, pure in its darkness spat lightning indiscriminately, as the sky above imitated it. A truly wondrous warpstorm.

The shuttle finally came to a halt, and Luminus rose from his seat. A short psychic search was all it took to locate one of the captains, and Luminus guided himself towards the man, whom he now recognized as Aresk. From a long distance, he could feel the flare of psychic energy, but this died down before he got there. The sight that awaited him was glorious. 

Everywhere around the bastion, Luminus could see the dead and dying servants of the appropriately dead Imperium. This suffused him greatly, giving him confidence as he strode up to Aresk, flanked by his two aides. "Aresk, I am Luminus, one who met you a thousand years go in the Great War. I have come to offer information and services to your Black Apostle." His voice had maintained itself in its long period of non-use. Good. It wouldn't do to have a hurting larynx.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[this is for Zamiel only]

Zamiel; As you accept the Apostle's offer you are lifted into the air and turned to face the orb itself before being thrown onto the ground on your knees. You try and force your self up but whatever is holding you down is far stronger then you could ever hope to be and you submit. Yet you do not give up without a fight and soon you feel a great pain as your armor is torn off of you, ripping skin and muscle with it, your wings are ripped from their sockets and fountains of daemonically infused blood poor from them. 

You scream in agony yet still hold on to life as your body is changed, deep within your mind you can hear a rumbling laughter and realize that something is horribly wrong. As whatever force is tearing you apart begins to stop its madness you feel your body begin to fall to the floor and hear, *"Good.....you ARE strong enough.....yessss.....this isss good...."* your limp and massacred body is lifted up and you moan in pain wondering if this is what your men felt as they were changed. 

Armor pulses out of your sking to resemble the bonelike armor you had had before except now it is made from a strong metal alloy and shimmers like a dull silver. Your wings grow back and are remade be like burning coals, a black smoke now not only enveloping your face but your wings and parts of your body too. Your veins flow with a mercurial blood and you realize that while you look the same as you had before, now you are filled with the Apostle's power and are forever bound to him. No longer will you need to ask and speak with him for you feel his feelings and he feels yours, the force releases you and you see the Elite Gaurd turn their heads to look at you, you are their leader now. 

Stand gaurd around the black orb as it grows and wonder at your new power and the gifts that have been given to you. Your bones and armor now made of an impregnable metal, the smoke that hid you now also burns those enemies around you, a gift from the Apostle himself. Yet as you wonder at these gifts you realize that you are now laid bare to him, every thought of yours he knows, every action planned out he will already know. How do you feel about this knowledge? How do you feel about your new gifts?


----------



## deathbringer

Lightening lashed from the black orb flashing past the stunned Cheetah to flay the soul of the astartes next to him and Lynx felt a little quiver rush up his soul as he felt the Black Apostle's rage press down upon his aura and he closed his eyes raising his chin in stubborn definace as he felt it begin to crush his very soul.

Lightening crackled blazing upon the ground smiting the enemies that crowded around the massive silhouette of Shamesu, his deadly black hull alight with the dancing lights of the orb, yet Lynx's eyes were drawn to the hulking form of another dreadnaught that tore forwards in a beserk frenzy, sending dismembered limbs flying spattering fresh blood upon the symbol of fourth company which glistened upon its hull. The dreadnaught tore another guard assunder and barreled forward into open space and Lynx screamed as his eyes traced its beserk path. His voice was shrill, sounding a desperate warning

"Prothor... oh fuck no"

The terminator turned quickly his blade sliding easily from between the ribs of a guardsman. His huge form twisted round with startling agility only to be dwarfed by the onrushing dreadnaught

"Shit" he yelled his back straightening and his blade flashing in a quick arc that bounced easily off the front of the dreadnaught as the three pronged claw flashed and suddenly the vox was dead... all sound removed from the world.

Lynx felt the ground hit his knees and Arkias's body rolled to the floor head lolling as it came to rest infront of him. Accusatory eyes glared up at him yet Lynx's eyes remained fixed upon the soul of Prothor Ironfist, a single last stoic scream upon his translucent, frozen face as he was born into the warp storm and it swelled.

He knelt for seconds yet it felt like hours, staring at the broken corpses and the dreadnaughts lumbering form. Shells of great men, shells of brothers... shells of friends. They had all been his friends and then the rage, the rage broke, the barriers of self pity and loss were torn assunder as Zamiel... the whoreson possessed spat upon Prothor's corpse.

Spat... dishonoured the corpse and suddenly Lynx's rage was a pounding thundering fury, a futile rage... hatred blistering hatred and he tossed the plasma cannon hooking it with deathly slowness over his shoulder. He would kill the bastard with his blade, this was the end, no longer. 

He rose from his knees, like a plant, unfolding and unwinding, a long ghostly blade and bolt pistol appearing in his hands. 

The vox was quiet yet he knew his captains were transfixed, eyes torn from the battle to bear upon him

"The final dance" his voice was quiet, deadly quiet, the fury raging like a tornado twisting into icy stillness and he felt blades sliding from sheeths, pistols emerging from holsters as heavy weapons were put aside. 3rd company would end this now... their captain had spoken.


All around 3rd company responded to the order of there captain and took up blade and pistol and the battle field sudden was hit with a deadly quiet a the heavy weapons were silenced and guardsmans heads popped from cover, staring in hope, was the assault over, was this nightmare finished... had they won.... whilst those in the open looked in horror at the wave of astartes that had taken up blades and was now walking slowly, there feet a rythmic drum of united doom. Stacatto pistol rounds and resultant screams added lyrics to the menace, whilst scattered lasrounds provided a gostly laser lighting to this dramatic show. The ending move of 3rd company... the final dance.

Fleeing guardsman turned caught between the sudden line of bare steel, the wroth of warp storm, and the brutality of possessed and dreadnaught. Amidst these guardsman Zamiel still fought his possessed form suddenly bathed in light as wreathes of lightening bathed him swelling him with a new power, a new energy, the energy of his Lord.... he had been choosen.

Shock melted away for Lynx felt nothing but loathing for the possessed and his face twisted into a hateful smear. He felt a small nudge in his back and felt Cheetah behind him the long haft of the banner swaying slightly in his hand as he reached up to unfurl the cloth of the banner.

3 long scratches glowed white shrouded by blood and the words 

"IRON WITHIN IRON WITHOUT" glowed gold in long fluid letters that shone over the battle field, shone glinting upon the lolling head of Arkias that Lion bore in his arms.

Cheetah's eyes were laced with fear and Lynx slowed his pace so the young guard came alongside him and he gripped his pauldron their eyes locked in a mournful, terrified embrace

"I think you are going to die" whispered lynx and he felt the hatred dissapate as sorrow welled within his heart, mourning for Prothor's death, mourning for the friend he was sure he was about to loose. 

Still they moved forward a tide of Iron warriors, the might of third company all with one person and now Lynz noticed that the line was interespersed with Helghan seige troops all moving forth intent upon ending this last battle in the name of the Black Apostle.

In the midst of the line Lynx broke into a run his blade outstretched sweeping down, the signal to charge and he felt the terminator armoured forms of Jag appear at his left there lumbering footsteps causing the ground to tremble undertheir weight. Lion and Leo, twins in appearance rushed to his right whilst Cheetah charged behind his breath laboured under the combined weight of Arkias's form and the banner of third. 

"For the 8th grand Company, the Black Apostle and our lord Peturabo" hollored Lynx as he accelerated feeling the wind on his cheeks as his feet thundered forward

"IRON WITHIN IRON WITHOUT" responded the company

They hit the clump of guardsman surging around crates to hack and slash amongst those that cowered. He saw Zamiel roar in pleasure at the transformations of the black apostle and he sneared in fury his rage bubbling over.

Such a bastard would be glorified... he remembered the horror in cheetah's eyes... such a good brother crushed.

The first guardsman he met received the full force of his sudden fury in a short stab that lanced easily through his stomach and he screamed as blood and intestines dripped from the stab wound. The bolt pistol bucked as a las round rocked his left shoulder leaving a small burn on his chest and the offenders head exploded as the subsonic round impacted upon his cranium.

The 3rd company... the cowards of the Iron warriors... basked in slaughter... basked in the dance that would end this battle

It was soothing the dance... a time to think to reflect... to plan. The Black Apostle must learn of Arkias's death at the epitome of his transcendency... but he already knew... he must know... never the less he must act as if the Black Apostle was ignorant of the facts... he would explain what had happened... make all the excuses... he had to save Cheetah, the honour guard held his power, his influence, his security, to loose one would break the system , smash the efficiency.

Another bolt round flashed and the man ahead of Jag toppled writhing leaving Jag free to charge forwards, his huge feet crushing the writhing body as he leapt forth knocking down another guardsman with the butt of his ion cannon

He had to save Cheetah, plus the actions of the dreadnaught would make it easier. He could pin a little blame on 4th company...yet it would damage the already strained ties between ther company... isolate him still further. The dreadnaught was an interesting proposition and an idea came to his mind and he smiled. To have a dreadnaight in third would make up for Prothor... and reparations must be made.

The blade in his hand arced and tore through the sinews of one mans neck yet he felt himself pitch forward slightly as something impacted upon its back arms scrabbling for the lock on his helm with furious intensity. He twisted the pistol jamming it into his assailants shoulder and pulled the trigger. The scrabbling stopped and Lynx breathed easily once more as his thoughts returned to the future

He must influence the Black Apostles decision immediately before other companies could get involved... Severus would vie for execution and then he would most definitely be in the shit. If it came to that he could count upon the aid of the titan princeps and probably the general but where did Arkias and Baruk lie and Shamesu... the great dreadnaught had remained silence... where did his opinions lie?

It could be the difference... the guardsman had to fall quickly.. he had to speak to the apostle as soon as possible.

Souls flooded towards the orb as guardsman were torn asunder and it swelled as storm clouds rolled menacingly over head and he screamed in desperate jubilation

"Forward 3rd company... the apostle nears his return... butcher the emperors whoresons.. come brothers the return is near"

(Posted this before Zamiel's transendance so a little inaccuarate apologies)


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel screamed, his mind, soul, body and very essence screamed as his body ripped itself apart, he could feel Exaltius writhing and screaming in pain within him. Was this how his men had felt during their change, if so then good, they had long disgusted Zamiel to his core and he had planned to kill them if he hadn't found a use for them.

As metallic bones ruptured from his body like armour Zamiel grinned, despite the horrific agony coursing through him, smoke rolled around his gauntlets and his wings which burnt with a black flame. His veins became a greyish-white and glew like a star as his body started knitting back together. Zamiel howled with glee, he could feel the power of a Chosen of Chaos, a Daemon Prince flowing through his body, such power and now Zamiel had it. Although he knew one day he would grow stronger, one could never grow strong enough.

Zamiel could feel the Apostle within him, it perturbed him to think that the Apostle could see and know everything about him but it did not bother him beyond that, his past was of no interest to anyone and he held no desire to kill the Apostle. He was one of two beings that Zamiel held a grudging respect for, the other being the Word Bearer that blessed Zamiel with the holy Possession.

Zamiel could feel his new gifts, his blazing wings, his metal armour of bones and the tremendous burst of energy within him. He could feel the Chaos Gods within him, he could feel Khorne's rage, Nurgle's contempt, Slaanesh's lust for battle and Tzeentch's knowledge all flowing through him. Throwing back his head he shouted his command to his new squad, a squad he for once actually liked.

_'The Apostle arrives soon brothers!, slaughter these cowards and protect his gateway. Iron Within'_, his squad chanting in unison and harsh, metallic voices _'Iron Without!'_.


----------



## Masked Jackal

ooc: I just saw what happened to Aresk in BAV's latest post, I'll edit my post to reflect this.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[This update is for those outside, until all of those who are inside have posted i cannot move you along.]

Everyone; As Zamiel transcends and takes on the position of the Apostle's Elite Guard, the men of the Fourth and primarily the Third companies kill what is left of the guardsmen and begin clearing out small redoubts and bunkers for their own use. This job is primarily taken over by the Helghans who rush into these buildings and into the bastion to support the First and Second companies. The Black Orb in the middle of the battlefield stops shooting out lightning and begins to pulse with an erie light before starting to spin and shudder.

The surface begins to move like it is a liquid and a form starts to take shape, you can see legs and arms and wings and a head and some of you stand in awe as your leader and master makes his break into reality. But just as the form starts to materialize and begin to solidify there is a loud explosion and it is gone, replaced by a large warp portal, the warpstorm overhead raging to new heights. Winds whip up around the bastion and become fast enough to even shake the Astartes who are present and knock the Helghans down. 

Eisen; You watch as this new Sorceror looking Iron Warrior approaches and speaks to Aresk. You don't feel like he is a threat so you turn to watch as the orb in the midst of the battlefield begins to take shape but then suddenly a large explosion blinds you all and the orb is gone and a large warp portal in its place. You turn to ask your captain what is happening and can hear from his voice and how he answers the Sorceror that he does not know what is happening. He tells you that he is going to seek out Shamesu and speak with him and that you should accompany the Sorceror when Aresk feels it is safe.

Pavor Man-Flayer; For the first time in centuries your mind is calmed and you can think clearly. You are the closest to the Orb as it takes shape and then explodes yet you are not afraid, you are overjoyed at this new clearness in your mind yet you know it cannot last. As you survey the battlefield you see the whelp Zamiel leading the Apostle's Elite Guard, that had been your goal in life before you had been brought low and now you swimmed in a sea of madness and pain and hate.

This calmness makes you feel strange, open a channel to someone if you wish or simply stand and watch the warp portal, do what you feel comes natural.

Luminus; As you reach Aresk he turns and slaps you on the shoulderguard,* "Yes I believe I remember who you are brother, yet I have been fighting for close to eleven thousand years as have most of us. With the end of this millenium close to a close my memory can be foggy sometimes."* as he finishes you hear a loud explosion and look behind him to see the orb gone and a large warp portal in its place. You hear Aresk's voice weaken a bit with fear that his leader might not be able to come through, *"Stay here, Eisen stay with Luminus until I tell you it is ok to advance, I must find Shamesu."*

You can tell as Aresk walks off toward the bastion that this Eisen is a new recruit, raw and young, speak with him until Aresk gives you the ok to come. Yet you know what has happened and that what you had seen on your pict recordings has made it a little more difficult for the Apostle to come through but you have faith that he will and are one of the only calm ones on the battlefield because of this knowledge.

Zamiel; As the orb begins to take shape you can feel the power of the Apostle growing inside of you and around you, he is so close, you think to yourself. Yet just as he starts to materialize he explodes and you feel, rather then hear, a roar of frustration eminating from him. You open your eyes to see a large warp portal in the place of the orb and realize something has made it harder for your lord to come through to realspace. Whatever it is, it must be found immediately and dealt with, yet you feel him pulling on you to stay put so you do and see Shamesu's mighty form approaching you with Aresk. Speak with them for they will talk on what has transpired.

Lynx; You watch as the orb begins to take form and your fear for your friend increases as you realize he will most likely be killed for sure. Yet as the orb begins to take shape and materialze into the Apostle it explodes and knocks you off your feet along with most who are close to it. You get up to see a large warp portal in its place and wonder what has transpired, you must find Shamesu and speak with him immediately.

Order your men to settle down into defensive positions and to back away a bit from the portal just in case. The wind around you pushes hard against your body and you find it hard to walk to where Shamesu is now with Aresk and Zamiel, speak with them once you get there.

[Lynx and Zamiel, i will give you seperate updates once you begin speaking with each other and Aresk and Shamesu]


----------



## Masked Jackal

"Yes I believe I remember who you are brother, yet I have been fighting for close to eleven thousand years as have most of us. With the end of this millenium close to a close my memory can be foggy sometimes." Interrupting him was an explosion from the black orb, the vague form of the Black Apostle disappearing without a trace. Aresk seemed scared at this. He didn't have the knowledge Luminus had. "Stay here, Eisen stay with Luminus until I tell you it is ok to advance, I must find Shamesu."

Luminus did not speak again until Aresk had left. Was this Eisen to be a babysitter? At least Luminus would have something to pass the time while these warriors convened with each other. "Eisen then, are you afraid that your leader has been denied his return, with the maelstrom fading? Before he could answer Luminus interjected. "The answer is no, take heart, Iron Warrior, Chaos is rising still.


----------



## unxpekted22

Eisen's ten chaos marines made their way out of the crater behind him, setting back up into their loose formation,holding their weapons at various closeness.

They had all turned to watch the orb and see its odd explosion of failure, but none said anything about it. Eisen's eyes narrowed beneath his helm, brows furrowed. He knew nothing about these kinds of events, and was a bit confused as it had not turned out the way he had imagined it to.

Aresk marches off in search of Shamesu, leaving Eisen and this quad with this, 'sorcerer'.

As he turned back to the sorcerer he spoke his odd words. Eisen looked at his bright eyes for a moment, staring in silence with his horned, helmet covered face. This new guy wore his helmet too, though Eisen couldn't tell if the lenses were made to glow, or if it was something about the face beneath.

He Placed his bolter to the clamps on his thighs, leaving both is hands free so he could use them while speaking. 

He responded first with a small laugh, and then spoke, "Is it now?"

he thought to himself the first question the sorcerer had asked him,are you afraid. he hadnt been afraid since he had grown up in the bottom feeder slums of his hive world. He was strong enough to seek out the iron warrior legion, become accepted as a recruit, and lived through the surgical and warp spawned changes. he had just witness his grand company slaughter what was thought to be an extremely good defense upon this 'imperial owned' world. And their Lord was busy making his way to their realm.

Eisen's helmet shook vigorously for only a moment, his right hand came up shaking to his chest and curling its fingers into a fist. His left hand started to do the same as the right was leveling back down.

He turned around and spoke to his squad, "At ease warriors, we await our captain's return for further orders."

Many of them turned to gaze at the warp portal, some towards the bastion that was being invaded by some of the other companies. The two with heavy bolters, took a seat, plopping down onto the pile of guardsmen bodies they had stood on minutes before.

Eisen spoke to The sorcerer again, "I don't know who...you are."


----------



## Masked Jackal

"I am Luminus..." It was interesting. The marine seemed to be partly insane. Luminus' jibe had worked. "...a sorceror. One of the Iron Warriors, just like you. I came here because of the Warp Storm. It tasted most eloquent, and I looked forward to the events here." He turned his head towards where the orb was. "I have not been disappointed so far. This place holds much potential."What would this mans reaction be to this, he wondered? Revulsion and scorn for the 'weak' sorceror? Reverence? Luminus eagerly awaited a response, as he turned his head back towards Eisen.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel's mind raced, the power he felt coursing through him was unlike any he had ever felt, was this how the Black Apostle felt?, or Perturabo felt?. He could feel his lords displeasure, something was preventing him from entering the material universe. Zamiel growled, things were already going bad. He noticed the captain of the 4th Grand Company, Aresk, and the Dreadnought Shamesu approaching him. Zamiel let out a loud grunt, his new squad fell in behind him in a perfect line, silent and still as statues. True Men of Iron.

Zamiel allowed himself a moment of recollection, to his fondest and most hated memory, the Siege of Terra.

Zamiel opened his eyes for the first time, he could feel the Daemon writhing within him. "The Daemon has blessed your body with its presence, your form will change soon" the figure in front of him, the same Possessed Word Bearer from Istvaan said. Zamiel had finally become a Possessed Marine. "Lets go" he shouted as he charged forward at the Golden Palace, his brothers ahead attempting to break through a line of the Imperial Fists, the wretched Sons of Dorn. Zamiel smiled as he felt the Daemon surging forward, his skin turning crimson and mottled, his hands becoming sharp talons, and his face being covered by a mask of shadow. He leapt over the barricade and slammed into an Imperial Fist Terminator, hooking his claws into the marines face and tearing it off, following up by jamming his talons into the marine's eyes and cutting through his head. He leapt forward and on top of another Terminator, pushing his claws through the loyalist's head, spinning back to avoid a salvo from an Autocannon as he fell back and rolled until he was close to another Terminator. Zamiel circled it as the Terminator readied his Thunder Hammer and Storm Shield, Zamiel surged forward and ducked, dodging a strike from the shield and leapt sideways to avoid the Thunder Hammer, Zamiel leapt forward and sliced the Terminator in half. Ahead of him he saw two of his own Possessed dead on the ground, a Chaplain standing above their corpses. "This one will be a challenge" Zamiel thought as he charged forward, roaring defiance.

"Dreadnought!, 4th Captain!" Zamiel barked as he marched forward, awakening from his reverie, relishing the sense of envy and fear he could feel from those around him. His new metallic form was beautiful, the shadows extending across his entire body, murky but they could be seen through except his facial shadows, those remained impenetrable and with the same jagged crimson eyes and mouth as always. "The Black Apostle is disappointed in you, something is trying to prevent him from entering this material plane. Find out what it is and stop it, or risk further displeasing the Apostle" Zamiel commanded, a rictous grin across his midnight mask.


----------



## dark angel

((OOC: Sorry about the late post BAV, I had thought that I posted on here yesterday, however I mustn't have sent it properly. Not the best, but its something)

That bastard. Zamiel. The whore. How dare he take the prize of Pavor? That who had slaughtered the Imperial Fist Terminator’s that had walked amongst his Grand Company moments before, the ones that he had torn limb from limb until their puckered forms simply twitched, each shake cracking bones further and leaking blood across the surface. His form within shook violently and he let out a metallic roar, tilting his chassis backwards as he did so. He saw Lord Aresk, a old friend of Pavor moving towards him and followed a still calmness thrown over his crimson form. 

With every step a scatter of dust would filter upwards, his joints groaning in distrust as he did so. The Olympian was returning, his form now shaking in and out of reality. As he got nearer to Aresk, he saw the former Possessed now in the armour of the High Guard, the Praetorians. Pavor’s true brethren. And then Zamiel had ordered him, and the revered Shamesu, lord of the Dreadnaughts. Yet he could not bring himself to kill him, and even as he drew nearer, knowing that he should have went the other way he sneered “You dare….Dare……Dare order your betters? Perhaps…..I…..Wi….Will take particular pleasure in watching you burn”. 

He did not say anything more too the bastard, and instead stared at Aresk apologizing “My…..Liege, Chaos pulses strong here and I can not withdraw myself from your great side, nor can I the ancient Shamesu, bless your broken form……Yet…..I…..Feel…..Weak. My body aches with anticipation for the return of the great Olympian but it resists my attempts to spur onwards”. He stared at Zamiel darkly, his shattered form within convulsing as he did so. Pavor would take his skin. And he would enjoy it.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel let out a bout of harsh laughter as he heard the Dreadnought Pavor, _"Betters!, the last time I checked I was not the corpse trapped not only within a metal coffin but between life and death. You may have once been someone, but now your nothing Dreadnought. Just another machine of war with one key difference"_ Zamiel taunted, raising one metal talon to insinuate his point. _"The pilots of the regular war-machines.. get to leave them once the battle is done."_ With that Zamiel ran his talon down Pavor's sarcophagus, leaving a slight mark, then turned to Shamesu and Aresk.

_"The Apostle has given his commands. Find what is causing the warp disturbances and stop it, I care not how you do it."_ Zamiel ordered, his squad behind him raising their weapons in salute to their new leader. "Iron Within!, Iron Without!"


----------



## dark angel

Pavor laughed loudly as Zamiel laid his finger across his front and reached outwards suddenly, clasping his three claws around the body of Zamiel. He lifted him into the air and tightened his grip, still laughing. He could end it all here now, crush the wretch but something deep within him told him not too and he threw him back to the ground, turning away he left the words “Aresk, Shamesu…I hope…..Hope…..I….And…..That our Olympian Lord destroys the bastard, if he does not I shall” and slowly moved towards the familiar faces of the Fourth. Within his chassis, a grin was sent across his ruptured, grey face.


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel landed, putting his hand out to land on his knees, the Elite Guard raised their heaviest weapons, Autocannons, Lascannons and Plasma Cannons all aimed at Pavor as he left, but a raised claw from Zamiel stopped them. _"No, there will be a reckoning between us. But not now, later."_ he ordered, a grin spreading out, he could have dodged the blow but that would reveal nothing, but now he knew more about the Dreadnought, and knowledge was always helpful. _"I look forward to it.. Dreadnought."_ Zamiel muttered under his breath, silently anticipating the future.


----------



## deathbringer

The black orb swelled and a form began to materialise twisting and curling into a corporeal form and Lynx threw back his head and laughed with joy. The laugh was long, clear and exultant yet sudenly there was a twist and Lynx felt a spike of fury and his laughter died, mercilessly culled by a frustrated growl and sudenly he was flying backwards skidding upon the surface. Dazed he struggled to his feet as a whipping win caught him and held him immobile, a pummeling force desperate to force him back.

Around him his company was rising to there feet heavy weapons rose as they shook their heads frantically trying to make sense of the sudden explosion of furious power that had driven his whole company to the ground. 

The vox crackled and Jag's soft voice appeared in his ear

"What the fuck was that? Cheetah if you've brought the black apostle down on third company i'll rip your fucking head off"

"Shut the fuck up it wasn't my fault" riposted the young marine and Lynx felt the bitter remorse and terror in his voice

"Jag apologise" barked Lynx and he hear Sabre give a mnacing little growl as he tossed his head in distaste

"I'm sorry i was scared."

"Fuck you"

"Cheetah I mispoke it wasnt your fault"

"Damn right it wasn't. If there had been some form of communication it would never have happened"

"The third company aren't approved by the other companies, they have strong bonds with the helghans and the titans and the command but the top levels of the other companies dissapprove of our cap..."

Lynx felt his face flush yet he finished Jag's sentence

"Captain. They hate me because of my geneseed, they are blinded to my winning record, my personality, just half of that whoreson dorn lingers in my body"

"Enough" Lion's velvet growl crushed the sudden fractures yet the honour guard glared at one another, half ashame half ired by the sudden disputes

"The fault is upon all of us. We are the command of the third and if the black apostle punishes one he punishes us all. It is up to Lynx to state our case but ultimately each of us is at fault and we must bear the penance of our crimes."

"My eyes, look?" growled Sabre interjecting over Lion's soft wors

The honour guard whirled around to see a warp portal in his place and their was a cry of surprise

"Somthing's wrong" muttered Lynx "I must find Shamesu. Dig 3rd company in, I want positions facing upon and away from that portal. Somthing has delayed the black apostle and it worries me, thus we take no chances. If anything but our lord or another Iron warrior comes through that portal I want them annuhilated. If anything tries to attack the portal i want them dead before they hit the ground. Also mass your slves and the heavy flamers, we may need to do a search and destroy operation"

"Cheetah your in charge till i get back. take care" Sabre turned looking in surprise yet a small word from Jag silence the outrage

A small huddle was forming around Shamesu and Lynx moved at a loping run forcing himself through the wind, pushing onwards with stalwat determination and his anger grew as he saw the forms of Zamiel and Pavor in the huddle, the murder and desecrator of his loyal Prothor.

He joined the huddle as the argument broke and he smirked, covering it quickly with his gauntlet yet he couldnt help but hope that they tore eachother apart.

He waited half eager to join the affray, half held back by the waves of dissaproval the washed from Shamesu in great waves. Zamiel's arrogance and his metallic mutated and contorted form sickened him, revolted him. Their was no envy here for all that his Lord could give him to his benefit was better eyesight or the obliterator virus. He wanted neither and expected neither.

Yet it seemed the possessed's head had swelled to new heights whilst the dreadnaught seemed strangely calm yet the slain form of Prothor increased his rage to an ice cold fury.

"if I could interject into this fascinating conversation which has revealed some startling facts, including that despite the new body Zamiel has received he still has the brains of an Imperial dog. Insults aside, I would like to get on."

He turned to Shamesu speaking quickly to the group

"The Black Apostle needs to return to take charge of his company and guide the 8th, the Imperium will burn once he returns to us. Also there is the manslaughter of Arkias and the murder an desecration of my terminator squad to contend with."

Lynx paused choosing his words with care and guile

" Great dreadnaught with the utmost respect I understand that in the haze of battle minds run wild yet my terminators were attacked from behind even as they slaughtered guardsman, the name of the black apostle upon there lips. Such an event is a travesty and I intend to see there murders duly punished."

"As your confrontation Zamiel, I believe the great Dreanaught was referring to your sudden deluded opinion that you are more important and better informed than Lord Shamesu. It is a delusion that I intend to put right, Lord Shamesu is second to none,the great counsel of our Lord, and I intend to follow his orders to the letter, not yours. Though you may have a new position you do not have the power to give me orders, or the honoured captain of 4th company. Though we all answer to Lord Shamesu and the black apostle in the grand scheme of things I still out rank you captain to sergeant and thus I order you to keep your petty delusions quiet whilst we accelerate our Lords return."

He turned to Shamesu

"My Lord i have entrenched third company around the portal so none can go in or out without us knowing. Though prothor's death has short handed me, myhonour guard and a company of heavy flamers are ready to aid the destruction of whatever could be slowing our lord's return. We await your orders my Lord."


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[those within the conferance]

Zamiel, Lynx, Pavor; Shamesu leans his massive body close to Zamiel, his glowing icy eyes piercing your shroud Zamiel. His huge body even outmatches Pavor's huge form, he speaks, his voice thick and metallic yet smooth and gentle like a river.....just like the Apostle's,* "Zamiel.....your new gift has seemed to increase your arrogance to new heights, something that cannot wait for the Apostle to correct......so I will."* The rest of you watch in silence as he continues, *"You believe that since you have been raised above your already wretched self that you are above those that are here....let me assure you that you are wrong."*

His massive chassis whirred and the huge drill on his back swished about, *"You are the captain of the Elite Guard, nothing more nothing less, Aresk and Lynx both are above your control.....only the Apostle controls their actions.........."* he pauses and his eyes bore through your soul before he continues and you realize you are laid bare before him, *"And for you to even believe that you are above me......I answer to no one...just because my body is what it has been since before the Great War does not mean that i do not have gifts like the rest of the Apostle's warriors."*

*"To be so close to one so great for such a long period of time means that I have certain......gifts that are much above yours....."* Zamiel you feel a powerful force pushing on you that forces you to your knees and Shamesu continues his voice deep, *"You answer to me and the Apostle, he will know of your insubordination when he arrives......I am through with you."* You feel the force lift from your body and you stand humiliated in front of two captains and your new squad and likely the Apostle himself....how do you feel about this?

Shamesu turns to you Lynx, *"Do not think that the actions against your company will go unnoticed young one, they will be righted and your warrior in your honor guard, while he will be punished....he will not be killed, his future is assured unless the Gods see otherwise."* Pavor you feel Shamesu's mind pull you back to the circle and you stand next to him, *"Be calm ancient one, be calm....." *this is all he says to you and you fully understand what he implies.

*"Now," *he addresses all of you now, *"It is my understanding that something is blocking our lord's return.....as Zamiel so eloquently put it.....we must find this problem."*


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius laughed as he entered the fake light of the unknown hallway. Maximus was riled and thinking irrationally. This would make him much easier to defeat. Corius relaxed his grip and his claws slid back into their sheaths, tossed his head back and laughed a cruel mocking laugh. As he was doing so, the hallway became a staircase leading downwards. Corius focused back and watched forward as they walked through silver arches. Down the other side of the first room was 4 sentry turrets and 2 stubber emplacements, all of them noticing Corius' intrusion. "Shit" was Corius short comment before they all open fired on him and his squad. On caught him on the shoulder guard and sunk halfway through, drawing blood. Corius didn't really care, it was nothing. He had endured worse, but he would need that plate reinforced in the future. They all ducked behind the arches as the bolts continue to fire for the next few seconds until the sentry turrets lost their position and the guardsmen stopped waisting ammo. Corius was irritated with himself for being so careless, and went to teleport and destroy the pathetic machines and men. He slammed the button on the center of his armour which activated the teleport, but nothing happened. Something was stopping it working. Corius swore again and formulated a plan. The sentry guns wanted heat signatures, so he would give them some. "Desin, fire through the arches with the flamer on my command. Mithras while the sentry guns are firing on the wrong heat signatures, I want you to take them out with the melta. Ares and Celux, I want you to take down the guardsmen. I'll take what ever is left." His squad nodded and he raised his hand with 3 fingers, 2, 1. All at once The sentry guns targeted Desins ball of flame, and Mirthras retaliated with his gout of super-heated atoms, melting them to useless molten slag. The guardsmen were already terrified, and then Celux and Ares fire on them, and their bodies exploded into puffs of red smoke. Corius ran through his mens co-ordinated fire to the guardsmen. Almost none were left from Celux and Ares' coldly accurate fire. But the was one trying to crawl to the vox, and Corius stabbed him in the back with his claws. He looked around, and in mere moments the guardsmen had lost the upper hand and this room was a scene of utter carnage. Corius opened the vox to Severus "First room, 4 sentry guns, 2 heavy weapon emplacements. Casualties: none. Proceeding to the next room"...


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel hissed as Captain Lynx spoke, _"Better the brains of a dog then a maggot like yourself.. captain. Were you listening at all you would know these orders are not mine, they are the Black Apostle's. Ignore them at your own peril"_ the Possessed marine said, grinning at his correction of the Captain, he may not be able to directly command them but as long as the Apostle was not present Zamiel spoke for him, and the Apostle's words were as strong as iron. 

His expression quickly changed to that of rage as he was forced down by Shamesu as the ancient Dreadnought used the warp's sorcery to force him down. As he rose Zamiel let out an earth-shaking roar, his entire body blazing with black shadow and black flame, the Elite Guard moved a fraction back, imperceptible to all but the most well-trained eye. Zamiel felt his rage surge as Exaltius screamed within him for blood, the corpse-machine had just disrespected him in front of the Captains, and the Apostle. Zamiel swore an oath in his mind with Exaltius that he would avenge this degradation, but not now. Right now the corpse-machine had his uses, even if they were limited. Zamiel let his mind float in the aether, allowing blessed Chaos to soothe his mind, tearing the corpse from his tomb would not get him anywhere beyond brief revenge. _"If you were as close to the Apostle as you claim corpse-machine, you would know that I am not the one who orders you. He is. The Apostle is your leader and as he is not here, I am the one who relays his orders from the empyrean and you will follow them, or I will kill you for disobeying the Apostle. Which I would do with great pleasure, corpse-machine."_ Zamiel said, calming himself by picturing himself tearing apart the Dreadnought and feasting on the dessicated meat inside.

_"This.. is clearly the work of a Sorcerer, no Imperial maggot has the strength to do this so it is either.. one of ours"_ Zamiel theorized, putting emphasis on the phrase one of ours and letting his gaze drift to each member of the congregation, _"Or its some device the False Emperor's pawns have put in place. Personally.. im leaning towards the former"_ the Daemon-kin intoned.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Lord of the Night this is your only warning you will get, stop the godmodding, you're lucky i dont have Shamesu kill you right now]

Zamiel; As you finish your theory you feel the warp around all of you twisting and turning in frustration and smile to yourself as you think that the Apostle is frustrated with the others. Yet you feel a deep pain inside your head and while the others around you cannot notice you see Shamesu and feel as though you can actually see his real eyes watching you squirm. The corpse-machine let his mind drift and you can feel his powerful soul encase yours and surround it within the warp, the daemon inside of you shrinking back in fear, **Your insolence is only tolerated because you are tool who is yet to become useless Zamiel....I AM the Apostle's proxy while he is not here....this you know yet still you believe that you are more then you truly are, your arrogance astounds me....yet I am not the one to punish our lord's Elite Guard, only he may do that** there is a pause and your face contorts in pain but those around you cannot see it because of the smoke around you. 

You realize that Shamesu's voice is inside your head and he continues, **I have fought and bled longer then you have been alive whelp and you are lucky that the Apostle still has a need for you otherwise I would crush you here and now* *You open your eyes and suddenly you are in a spartan training room, one that you recognize from before the heresy, it feels familiar and you realize that it is one of the ones within the Iron Will.

You are on the floor kneeling, before you stand two warriors, both clad in Tactical Dreadnought Armor with their helmets off. One has hard cut features, icy blue eyes and somewhat long brown hair and is the thicker of the two, the other is taller and has short cut blonde hair with deep brown eyes with a hint of gold. They stand there watching you, not saying a word, you work up enough courage to stand though why you are frightened you do not know. 

The one with brown hair speaks first, *"Zamiel....I am disappointed in you....your attitude towards my second in command has not been good at all...." *you tilt your head to the side and realize that this must be the Apostle speaking with you, immediately you make the connection and know that the other Astartes must be Shamesu and that this is their way of speaking with you privately within the warp. *"I had raised you into this new position because I thought that you would do well and do us proud yet it has only served to heighten your arrogance. Should I take it away from you?"*

Shamesu stands silently and watches, you only have the power to speak and not move, respond to the Apostle, what do you have to say for yourself? Do you feel that Shamesu is in the wrong?

[Everyone else that was in the congregation respond to Shamesu and each other how you see fit but Zamiel will not respond because of where his mind is right now.]


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus roared untill his lungs almost gave out in rage!
How dare that whoreson Corius insult Quar, and Severus had done nothing about the dishonour of a brother.
"Squad, grenades first then Lupax and Pordal get above us and take out those guns, the rest of us will deal with the Humans!"

Holding up three fingers he counted down 3...2...1 and hurled his grenade down the corridor while the others went about their tasks, Lupaxs and Pordals jump packs roared while Maximus and the rest of the squads screamed a war cry then hurled themselves down the corridor.

To early.

Auto-turret fire errupted down the corridor ripping into him, bullets hammered into him before the guns were silenced damaging his left shoulder and several bruises also a rather more serious wound in his side where a shot had ripped through his armour, then he was among the Guard and slew with fury.

Corius the fool and Severus the arrogant both thought him weak, but he would prove them wrong, he would over shadow them and he would have revenge!

Hacking his sword into a guards face he deactivated the power field around it leaving the sword stuck in the mans face, lifting the corpse he tossed it into the air and kicked it into the crowd knocking several over, "DIE FILTH!!!" he screamed and hammered a punch into a commisars face then pivoted on the spot to decapitate the last man.

Recovering his breath he noticed that his squad were all staring at him, curious as to why he looked around and saw that a good two thirds of the corpses were arrayed in a circle around him.
"Move out" he gasped pressing his hand to his side in an effort to help his larraman cells heal him.
Soon they came across the control room "Control room secured he voxed on an open channel.

While waiting for new orders he realised that he had fought like a berzerker, but strangely it did not appaul him, the idea of such barbaric combat actually had its appeal...


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel screamed within his head along with Exaltius, yet his body did not move, even his shadow mask remained, a smug grin plastered on its shifting form. He could hear the corpse-machine speaking to him, telling him of his weakness. Zamiel roared defiance, he was not weak, he had never been weak, not since his ascension. He was not like the regular marines who died in droves or the mindless devotees of the Chaos Gods who threw away their minds for power, immortality, pleasure or knowledge. He was a true Champion of Chaos, the corpse-machine had his chance long ago and failed, why else would he be a corpse now.

He saw the figures in front of him. One was the corpse-machine before the True Gods abandoned him, and one was the Apostle before the True Gods rewarded him. The Possessed Marine felt confusion for the first time in an age, why would a blessed of Chaos choose to appear as a regular astartes. He should show his Daemonhood with pride as Zamiel did every hour of every day. A horrific though struck Zamiel who turned his gaze to what parts of his body he could see, he was still in his Daemon-kin form, relief spread through him, better to die then lose the Chaos Gods favour and appear as a regular astartes. _"Lord Black Apostle, I have done only your will. I have relayed what you said, the corpse-machine takes it of context to make me look bad"_ Zamiel answered, glaring at Shamesu. _"You elevated me because you knew I was suited, you knew that I despise the members of this Grand Company, that I trust none of them and would suspect them. You know that the Chaos Gods favour me, not like they favour you, but it is still favour. You are the only member of the Grand Company that I still respect, a true Champion of Chaos, rather then a failed Champion like this one"_ Zamiel explained, shifting his gaze back to Shamesu. 

_"And this arrogance that people claim to witness is not arrogance. It is pride in my blessed flesh, my favour with Chaos and my power. I do not deserve this inquisition!, I have done nothing but what is best for Chaos, and what you ask of me Black Apostle"_ Zamiel argued, he had gained power, not total power, but enough power for now. Zamiel swore that the corpse-machine and the regular astartes would not tear it away from him, he would kill them before that could happen.


----------



## unxpekted22

_"I have not been disappointed so far. This place holds much potential."_ said the sorcerer.

Eisen turned back as well with a chuckle, "Yes, a lot of potential. Oh and by the way I can see your an iron warrior." Eisen pretended to inspect Luminus's armor for a moment, "Yep, i would say I recognize the iconography."

He paused for a moment more, then looked up at Zamiel's slightly taller form and asked, "So what is held in the potential here for you my magical friend?" His eyes drifting towards Luminus's spear like weapon again.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Zamiel; The Apostle stares at you as you argue your side and when you finish he laughs, your brow creases in confusion because you can tell it is not a laughter that shows pleasure as if he is pleased with your argument, it is one that you remember when you were first inducted and training to become the best Astartes possible. You remember the warrior who trained you and the recruits you were with, to be precise it was actually one of the Eighth's ancients, Goudon.

Now he is a dreadnought, crazed and out of his mind, but then he was the hardest asshole you had ever met or known, and the laugh that he used to laugh when you or the other recruits did something wrong, a laugh that someone who knows they are better then you does when they are about to reveal something to you. You are brought back to looking at the Apostle and he continues,* "Child for you to be so foolish, you of all people should know that looks do not mean anything to the Gods. To insult my oldest friend and ally in front of me is an act of a naive child,"* he spits and you can see the floor bubbling, you look back up to see the Apostle in his true form, it is massive more so then it was before his banishment.

His wings are smoldering coals with black smoke coming off of them, his armor a black iron, his thick cord like veins sprouting from points in his body, the mercurial blood flowing through them shining brightly, his left hand is a massive cannon, it reminds you of the Obliterators within the Eighth constantly changing and morphing to suit another purpose. In his right hand he holds his massive warhammer that is as dark as empty space and eminates a coldness that chills you to the bone, you look up at his face and see ghostly white skin with the same kind of mercurial veins underneath the skin, his eyes pure black orbs like a black hole.

Shamesu is in his dreadnought form now, his icy blue eyes watching you, the Apostle continues, *"You were not there when Shamesu lost his live body, I will not speak of what he has accomplished for you know exactly what he has done and I will tell you now that no one is closest to me in power and favor of the gods then he."* He shakes his head and he stares at you, *"I raised you to command my squad because of the faith in the Gods you have...."* he pauses and raises his hand and you can hear the daemon within you screaming in pain, *"The only daemon that will possess you is me, this one has served its purpose..." *you can feel the daemon inside you being ripped from your soul and see it float screaming in front of you before it splits in two and flies into the mouths of the Apostle and Shamesu. You can feel the Apostle's mind and soul filling the gap that the other daemon had left and it feels, strange yet right, you are now permanently bound to him.

While you get used to the new "daemon" that possesses you you realize something, both Shamesu and the Apostle have the ability to consume souls at will it would appear. This is something that puzzles you, does that mean that they are effectively immortal then? Since they feed on others do they gain more power from each one they eat? How does this work? Does this mean that if Shamesu is ever actually killed, or rather his material body destroyed, that he will ascend and gain a new body?


----------



## Masked Jackal

"This potential holds many things. The Black Apostle coming into this world again is most interesting. In addition, such an event will bring daemonic power to bear, and even if I'm not accepted into his service..." Luminus had not been a permanent member of any company for the longest time. In truth, he felt almost a want to take part in the glory again. Partly, it was the power and favor he could gain from the gods, but partly, he realized he couldn't achieve much of anything by himself. 

"...it will be worth it." Luminus could continue after all, and learn from this experience, like any other. The rising of a Daemon Prince wasn't something Luminus had experienced so personally before. 

"So...explain to me the details of this situation. How has the battle fared so far?"


----------



## unxpekted22

"We tore the loyalists apart, like they were squirming babies behind a meager wall. It was fun. You really shouldn't have missed it. I know that the second company went inside that large bastion there," he pointed.

"So what can you do Luminous? Entertain me and my men, if you will? I myself have only dipped my toes into the powers of the warp it seems, and I am ever curious as to what potential powers await me."


----------



## deathbringer

Relief flooded through Lynx and he bowed his head to the great dreadnaught
"My Lord is merciful"

It was blissful to know that his honour guard would remain whole and he felt th woes and worries upon his shoulders lift and he stood straighter a small smil upon his face that turned into a shocked gasp as Zamiel fell to the floor writhing and contorting in agony.

"Pride comes before a fall " he muttered before turning to the great dreadnaught

"I disagree with our haughty friend. I do not believe a psyker could be on this planet without escaping detection by our legions or our ships above. Plus to do such an effetiv job it would take a whole cabal which makes the idea nigh on impossibl. Hence I believe that it is some sort of device within the building that is haulting the apostles return."

"Hence I volunteer 3rd company to protect the portal whilst we go in to search. May also be a good idea to vox the respective captains of 1st and 2nd company"


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus grinned when he heard about the loyalists being ripped apart, though Eisen couldn't see it. The corpse-gods servants were certainly naive and weak. 

"My sorcerous powers are my greatest ability, of course. I have spent long decades watching the warp, and using that flow to predict where power lies. As well, I have maintained my fighting prowess, and my spear is a focus for my abilities."

Luminus paused again, pondering what it would feel like to rip through his enemies in a whirlwind of blood. "It will be good to crush the corpse-gods servants again."


----------



## Lord of the Night

As the Black Apostle and the Corpse-Machine took on their true forms Zamiel was filled with amazement and disgust respectively. While the Apostle was a Daemon Prince, touched and blessed by Chaos and elevated to immortality and appearing to be even more powerful then before his banishment, the Corpse-Machine was barely more then an automaton, even if he did have a few differences to the others, why he continued to strive ahead when he would never feel the heat of battle, the sensation of crushing an enemy's skull in his bare hands astounded Zamiel, death was much more preferable to life inside a walking tomb.

Zamiel then felt pain as Exaltius was torn from him and destroyed before his eyes, Zamiel felt a twinge of sadness. He and Exaltius were not friends, or close, but they had been allies since the Heresy and had slaughtered hundreds of thousands of foes in their time together. That was quickly put aside as Zamiel felt the power of the Black Apostle flowing into him, a fragment of the mighty Daemon Lord's power was incredible. The Daemon-kin knew that this was permanent, yet he cared not. Leadership was not something that truly interested Zamiel, at least not beyond his own squad. This was adequate and the further the Apostle went the further Zamiel went which was exactly what the Possessed Marine wanted.

Yet Zamiel was unsettled, both the Apostle and the corpse-machine could consume souls. For the Apostle this was not surprising, a Daemon Prince could do such things with ease, yet so could the corpse-machine. He was no Daemon-kin, and certainly not a Daemon Prince. Yet he could devour the life-essence of another being, he was more then the average corpse-machine truly.

Zamiel writhed in the power and rose up, his muscles becoming taut and ready to strike as his veins bulged with power. He let out a mighty roar as his flaming wings burst up and his metallic skin shone brightly, he thrust his head back and screamed, _"I am Zamiel the Exalted!, Chosen of Chaos!, Daemon-kin!, Iron Warrior! and thy Guardian my Apostle!"_


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[alright guys sorry for the long wait for those that are inside the bastion but here is your update]

Redivivus; As you and your brothers slaughter the guardsmen downstairs and you charge towards the stairs you feel a strange pulse push its way through the warp, its origin coming from far beneath your feet. While it is a puzzling phenomenon you push forwards up the stairs and are assaulted by heavy weapons fire from two stubber emplacements and multiple las shots fly by your heads. Take cover if you must behind one of many support columns that file down the room but as your captain pushes up behind you and takes cover a large explosion rocks the floor you are on and the staircase collapses leaving Kerias and his men below you and no way other way to go then forward. 

Severus; As your men and you slaughter the rest of the guardsmen on this level you get Kerias's report on the situation above you. Yet as you go to make your orders Redivivus and his brothers charge up the steps, two stubber emplacements, four sentry turrets and around the same amount of guardsmen as this level are getting themselves ready. Seeing as how Maximus is just out of reach of the Control Room do you wait till he gets there and disables the locks on all the doors and deactivates the turrets or do you push ahead because of how close the Command Center is? Yet as you push up the stairs after Redivivus and his brothers a large explosion collapses the stairs beneath you leaving Kerias and his men below with no other way up then the elevator behind them that is not working yet.

Kerias; Before you have a chance to follow your captain up the steps there is a large explosion and they collapse beneath your feet making you tumble to the floor. You are now stuck on this level with no where to really go but back, head back to the elevator that heads to the Command Center and wait for Maximus to bring it back online and then take it up and aide your captain from behind the enemy.

Maximus; You and your men finish off what remains of the defenses outside the Control Room and reach the blast doors safely for the most part. Before you stand two huge blast doors that tower above you, how do you get past these massive things? You realize that your man who had been shot in the head and killed as you entered the bastion has what is left of your melta bombs and you send one man back to go get them. As he leaves you hear strange noises coming from around the corner down the hall and you see a darkness creeping from behind it.

As you stare long and hard you see a little shadow on the wall and see a little round being waddle around the corner. You zoom in with your HUD and realize it is a small giggling nurgling, how the hell did it get down here? Before you have time to think about it three more come around the corner followed by many others, you realize the danger you are in now and ready your weapons before you see them all turn and look away down the corridor and laugh before charging something.

You hear gunshots and then a gurgling noise before all goes silent again. You go down the corridor and look around the corner to see no nurglings in sight but what you are confronted with is the rotting body of the marine you had sent to retrieve the melta bombs. Grab them quickly and blow up the doors and step inside, i will tell you what you see.

Corius; You head down the hallway to another bend and stop, this time taking more caution then the last, and peek your head round the corner. All you see is a long dark path leading down at a heavy incline and disappearing into complete darkness, waving your men forward you head down the path weapons at the ready disappearing into the darkness.

As you head further down you feel a strange pulse in the warp and zero in on where it is coming from, deep beneath the earth and way off to your left, the area where the biggest fortress is on this world. Finally the path straightens out and you are confronted with two simple blast doors and wave one of your men forward to get rid of them, he places charges and you retreat back a bit as they blow. As you slowly walk towards the smoking hole that was the doors a bloodletter barrels out of the smoke and runs straight into you.

Your men shoot it down before it even has time to make a hit on you but the fact that a bloodletter is down here is intriguing and you move swiftly through the blast doors and into the room beyond. Around you is a large cylindrical room that seems to reach up to the heavens and beyond with a large glass chamber in the middle that looks like some kind of generator but it seems inactive. 

Around you you see dead tech adepts of mars torn apart, oil and blood pooling on the floor in equal amounts. No more bloodletters, or any daemons for that matter, are in the room but it would seem that the one that attacked you killed everyone in this room. The room is relatively dark and you can feel the warp pressing down on you, the barrier has become thin down here yet you do not know why, whatever the reason you realize that something this large must be important to the Bastion which means it is now important to the Eighth. 

Do you find the switch and turn this thing on? Or do you vox your captain and let him now what has transpired? As you think on these things you can walk around the room and examine the bodies, you will find small ]['s on some of them and written on the walls are symbols that look like holy sigils that the Imperial Inquisition uses to ward off daemons, apparently they didnt work.

[alright guys that is the update]


----------



## Captain Stillios

"NOOOOO!" Maximus screamed as he reached the bloated and rotten form of Lupax and fell to his knees, aside from Quar, Lupax had been his greatest friend, seeing a nurgling skitter over Lupaxs armour Maximus grabbed Lupaxs discarded pistol and shot it with the last shot in the clip.

"I shall carry this to remember you my friend" he whispered then holstered the pistol, picking up the melta bombs he passed one to each of the two surviving members of his squad then placed his in the middle of the door above the lock while Perdos and Denset set their charges on the side of the doors.

Stepping back he drew his own pistol and Lupaxs in readyness for what ever was on the other side of the door.
Perdos hit the detonater and the charges erupted blowing large holes in the door and causing it to fall to the floor.


----------



## Deus Mortis

As the melta blasts tore through the blast doors, Corius and his men walked towards the open space. They hadn't really encountered any further resistance other than the first room, from which Corius' minor wound was healing nicely. Just as the got a few yards closer to the doors, a vision of blood and oil bolted through the door. Ares raise his bolter and fired three shots into it's skull, sending it back to be with chaos. Ares seemed pleased to have smote a foe from the blood god, as a devotee of Tzeentch, the most hated enemy of the blood god. 

Seeing no further threat about to emerge, Corius signaled his men to continue. Desin was first to ask the obvious question "Why was there a bloodletter down here? I wasn't aware that the imperial dogs had mastered to warp!" 
"That is a good question!" Corius commented not actually having an answer for his squad mate. As they walked through into a poorly lit room, they all notice the pieces of tech adepts stroon all around the room, and all could feel the presence of the warp thick in the air, but more pressingly, a giant generator which for some reasons was no longer humming as Corius would expect it to be. Celux called to him "Sir, look at this!" and gestured Corius to come over to him. As he walked over to where Celux was, he noticed what his squad-mate was pointing at. It was the symbol of the Imperials "holy" Inquisition! "Guess not even their 'bless'd' Inquisition could save the poor bastards" Celux said before laughing contemptuously.
"Indeed my friend. See, chaos rules here!" Corius said as he carved an eight pointed star into the Inquisition's symbol of power. "Search the room for anything else of interest!" Corius called to his men before switching his vox to a channel to his captain. "My Lord, we have just gone down a second flight of stairs in the section you asked us to check. We have found something of great..." Corius looked back towards the strange imperial construct "...interest to the Eight. It appear to be a generator of immense proportions. Several tech adepts were here, but have all been slaughtered by a bloodletter which tried to attack us. It appears to be inactive, but we have located the power source, so could power it up. The presence of the warp is thick in the air, you can almost drink it! What would you have us do?" Corius looked around the room, watching his squad search for anything of significance, and pondered what this machine had been used for...


----------



## Fumble Tumble

Kerias yelled as the floor gave way beneath him, sending him and his squad crashing to the floor beneath.

Of all the cursed luck, he needed to be on the floor above, not this hovel of a floor.

Looking around Kerias noticed a elevator in the corner that would bring his squad up just behind the enemy.

Grinning, He shouted to his men to move to the elevator, to take up positions around it, Kerias walked up and pressed the button before unholstering his bolt pistol and aiming it at the doorway, the doors slowly opened to reveal an empty elevator.

With a grin, Kerias shouted at his men "get in the elevator, we are going up!"

the squad piled into the elevator, it was a tight fit, Kerias pressed the button and waited.


----------



## Concrete Hero

_Blood..._

*Blood*

A powerful and rhythmic thumping pounded in the Obliterators ears, overriding the din of battle. The glowing pits of Redivivus' eyes shone a baleful red, matching the colour of the liquid caking his form.

The Obliterator snarled as a tide of pinpricks irritated him, mixing with the annoyance from his Brothers. The Cult shrugged off the insects attacks and lumbered forward, Redivivus let loose an ear splitting cry from his fanged maw; the sheer volume causing some of the nearest Guardsmen to drop to their knees and grab their heads in agony.

Seconds later an incinerating cloud of bright pink fire washed over the front line Guardsmen, boiling their flesh away in a punishing blast of Daemonic heat. The Obliterator trio fell into the forwards line and dragged the human soldiers into a brutal melee, flashes of powered crushing claws and mutilated shrieks joined the din of battle. Redivivus lost himself in the combat, though his mind had attempted to resurface, the feral part of his conciousness was jolted with a quick bolt of rational thought.

The arm mounted Autocannon, which had simply been firing aimlessly into the crowd was drawn to the ceiling, shredding the humans that were caught in the guns path. The heavy shells pounded against the mounted turrets which had been peppering their forms. Acquiring a target, the shoulder Lascannon shone a bright red before discharging a powerful lance into the roof.

Before the Obliterator could check the success of the shot, a hot stabbing sensation flared in his lower body. His Draconic head snapped down, snarling in pure hatred that one had dared strike him. An Imperial Commissar, quickly stepping back after his attack, leaving a small jet of steam shooting from his mid-drift. Whether with his pistol or sword, Redivivus could neither tell not care as a fresh wave of Primal rage buried his sense in a tide of boiling anger.

The pistons of his body hissed as the Obliterator leapt forward, pinning the Commissar to the ground and, from the sensation beneath him and the cry issued from the human, crushing his legs under his colossal bulk. Redivivus sunk his teeth deep into the shoulder of the man, tearing the arm free in a fountainous spray of blood. The Obliterator dragged himself to his feet and flung the body of the Commissar across the room.

With a Bestial cry, the trio of Obliterators crashed through the Guardsmen like a destructive wave, chasing a small knot of the humans up a twisting staircase in their fury. Though when the cult rounded the corner they were met by the fire of several emplacement guns. The pepping shots shocked some combat sense back into the Cult and Redivivus lunged behind one of the sturdier pillars, Falcis and Pangorax doing likewise.

Redivivus felt a beating pounded in his ears, though slowly it began to ebb away as his senses slowly returned to more controlled state. The choking cloud of red mist lifted slightly and the Obliterator felt the murderous urges simmer slightly, falling back under mental guards.

The Obliterator tapped into the vox link with a thought and attempted to raise Severus, being momentarily disoriented by the come down and not sure of their positioning in relation to the others.

'_*Captain, We'r-*_'

Though before he could finish, an explosion far too close for comfort cut him off as the staircase collapsed behind them.


----------



## Euphrati

The mirrored surface of Oathbreaker reflected the utter terror of the guardsman’s last moment as it impacted upon his sternum, the upper torso of the wretch exploding in a shower of bone and pulped flesh that scattered for a full five meters over his comrades. Severus did not even miss a stride as he brought Shattersoul around to take the brunt of the shrieking hail of fire that streaked down from the weapon mounts above as Kerias’s words cut across the company’s channel. Severus’s baneful laughter answered his sergeant as he surged forward, crushing bodies with every thunderous stride,

‘Caution?’ 

Severus barked back over the vox, his silver-black blood pounding a raging battle cant in his warp-touched veins,

‘Now is not the time for caution, Sergeant! Now is the time for annihilation and glory! Push forward without pity and crush any who dare resist us! Our Lord’s return shall be heralded in the blood of these ignorant fools of the corpse-god! Iron Warriors advance!’

Keris’s men opened fire, ripping many of the automations apart in powerful blasts of their heavy weapons. A roaring eclipsed the battle as the Obliterators answered the guns as well, silencing the rest in searing beams of light that reduced the defensive mounts to glowing piles of slag. The sheer destructive force of his blessed brothers was intoxicating to Severus; nothing that came within reach of the Obliterators was left unscathed. Severus’s lips pulled back in a grim sneer as he waded through the wake of the cult’s detritus; in their blood-mad state that destruction was not limited to the foe the Obliterators faced, but to all who strayed within their range including their fellow Iron Warriors. It was a measure of both his unshakeable confidence and authority that Severus dared to fight within that rolling storm of iron and madness.

Something niggled at the back of Severus’s mind over the drunken haze of blood and destruction, the Warp pressed down upon this world like a smothering blanket, yet something felt… _amiss_. Severus charged up the wide stairs behind the roaring Obliterators, taking the carved stone treads four at a time in bounding strides to keep pace with the Cult. Before he could linger on the sensation a voice growled over the vox and the very ground rocked beneath his iron-shod boots. 

Stone shattered and crumbled as the stairway was torn asunder by a massive detonation and Severus flung himself forward as the stone fell away under his weight. He landed hard, dropping to a knee and sinking the toothed edge of Shattersoul into the stone above him to stabilize his momentum. A vicious snarl split his features as he heaved himself back to his feet, mere meters from the bulk of Redivivus. The Obliterator’s consciousness seemed to have momentarily surfaced from the tide of blood-lust,

‘At your side, my Brother, as I have been since we shook off the gilded chains of the Imperium,’

Severus replied as he strode forward to within the sight of the fanged head of Redivivus before casting a irritated look at the dust-filled emptiness where the stairs had just been and listening to Corius’s words as they crackled over the vox,

‘A solider of the blood-god? Here within the bastion?’

Severus heard the incredulous tone in his own voice even as he felt a spark of confusion flare to life in his mind, drawing an irritated growl from deep within his throat. Corius would not dare lie to him, if the terminator said he had encountered a lesser daemon then it must be so, but… _Why_? The veil between the worlds was thinning with the imminent rebirth of the Black Apostle into the material realms; Severus could practically taste the raw warpstuff in the very air around him, though the presence of the daemon prince should have overcome the lesser minions of chaos. He bared his blackened fangs and snarled as solid shot pinged off the face of Shattersoul,

‘It matters not; slay any beasts that you come across that do not show proper respect to our Lord. Investigate the device further and destroy any wards of the blind followers of the false-emperor you come across. Once you have identified its purpose, contact me again,’

Severus began to climb the steps, taking three at a time as the fire still sparked off his upraised shield and barking into the link before cutting it once again,

‘Perciuos! What is your status, I need the controls under our hand posthaste!’

Severus glanced over to the towering Obliterator with a feral smile; his features lit in a strobe of red from the las blasts that scythed through the air,

*‘Iron Within…’*


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius listened to his captain order him to investigate the device further. "Right men, Severus wants us to investigate this device. Mithras and Desin, break the device apart but only the outer shell, we don't want to damage the inside incase we can't divine it's nature from breaking the exterior open. Celux and Ares, continue to search the room and Tech Adepts for clues as to what this devices nature is." Corius walked around, finding every symbol of the Inquisition of the sign of the Aquila and corrupted them with either a mark of one of the four chaos Gods or the eight pointed star of chaos. As he did so he muttered "I, Corius, the trusted son of Pertuberto, servant of the Black Apostle and slave of the four Chaos Powers; Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle and Slaanesh, reclaim this device for the glory of Chaos." The warp was strong in the air and Corius could almost feel the air respond to his call and corrupt the marks which the Imperial dogs regarded as sacred. His men got to work, and Corius got to work weakening the strenuous powers that these marks had at keeping the raw power of chaos at bay, and he waited for his men to discover something of significance about the device...


----------



## Concrete Hero

As Severus spoke a warm glow emanated from the barrel of Redivivus’ Lascannon mount as the weapon gathered energy, drawing power from the other weapon systems and his warp-touched soul. The glowing lights of his eyes flashed and he smiled, he felt his Brothers similarly charging themselves.

‘*Iron WITHOUT!*’

The Obliterators hulking form spun around the column, letting loose the charged Las-blast in a searing lance of burning energy. The red beam sweeped down the corridor, scouring the defensive emplacement for a handful of seconds before fading away, sloshing molten rock left in its wake. Falcis and Pangorax both fired plasma cannon blasts, the searing bolts bloated and infected with Chaos energy from the Cult. The twin orbs of destruction flew after the beam, slamming into the emplacement and dousing it in burning plasma. The Cult pounded forwards after the punishing fire, all letting loose with their Autocannons, their other weapons temporarily unavailable after the over-charged shots.

The hulking Trio pounded ponderously forwards, a wall of iron and chattering high-calibre shells


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[sorry for the wait folks but life had me by the daemonic parts for the past few weeks, here is your update]

Those inside;

Maximus; As you enter the control the darkness inside seems to surround you and your enhanced vision can barely pierce the shroud. As you and your men spread out, and because of your basic training as Iron Warriors, you are able to identify each control panel despite the darkness and you quickly find the one that controls the security systems which controls not only the turrets but the locks on all the bastion's doors too.

Deactivate the security systems right away and then make your way to where one of your men has found the control panel for the elevators and lift systems and activate that so that Kerias and his men can outflank the Imperials and aid your captain. Once you have done this explore the rest of the room, you will find a strange panel that you do not remember from your training. Examine it, it will have different dials and strange read outs, report it to Severus immediately before doing anything with it.

Corius; While your men defile the rest of the room you can feel the warp pressing down more and more on the room and see it actually begin to warp and twist. While normally this would be a joyous experience something does not feel right, and you turn your head to see a red muscled arm coming out of the floor. The barrier between the warp and realspace is obviously being broken and it becomes apparent that the Eighth is not the reason why. 

You realize something must be done before the situation becomes a problem, while normally a daemonic presence would be controlled by the Black Apostle as far as you know he has not broken free yet and you do not wish to be overwhelmed by the lesser beings of the warp. You are drawn to the control panel of the machine and hear a cry and turn to see one of your men impaling a bloodletter on his blade, you look around the room and see many more lesser daemons of Khorne pulling themselves into realspace.

Do you activate the panel and in turn activate the machine present, obviously it has something to do with the warp otherwise the holy symbols of the Imperium would not have been present. Maybe it would affect what is happening here? If you do not choose to activate the machine, proceed to fight the daemons that are entering realspace.

Kerias; As you enter the elevator and wait for it to rise you realize that you and your men are in a very tight killzone. Across the room you see strange shapes moving out of a hallway and squint to get a better look at them, suddenly one makes its way into the light and you realize what they are, the eight man Kasrkin squad moves out and aims its hellguns straight at you.

You have a very limited space to move in unless you were to leap out of the elevator or Maximus were to activate the transportation systems fast enough. Open fire on them but they will not be cannon fodder like the other Imperials that you have fought this day and will be hard to kill and you will be more vulnerable to them also.

Redivivus; As you and your brothers barrel forward the gaurdsmen that are still alive are either torn apart by your hail of bullets or crushed beneath your bulk. You can feel the two sentry guns that are left tearing into you, destroy them however you want and then proceed down the corridor that is behind the Imperial emplacement. You will reach a corner and make a left to find another large room full of Imperials with an elevator at the other end of it, and further back the doors to the Command Center. 

There will be at the least eighty some odd gaurdsmen not including two eight man Kasrkin squads inside waiting for you making ninety six Imperials ready for your assault. Do you find cover and keep the Imperials under fire from your guns and wait for your brother Kerias and his men to come up through the elevator and open fire on the backs of the Imperials or charge forward and hope that you do not get killed from the weight of firepower?

Severus; You follow the Obliterators down the corridor and revel in killing the Imperials that they leave behind them in their wake of destruction. You reach a large room with eighty some odd gaurdsmen behind defences and two eight man Kasrkin squads waiting for you. At the far end you see a small corridor leading to two huge blast doors that must be the entrance to the Command Center and an elevator on the far wall that would be the one from the other room a level below that you saw. 

Do you take cover from the inevitable volley of firepower coming your way and take potshots when you can and wait for Maximus to flip the switches and open the blast doors and allow Kerias and his men to use the elevator and then outflank the Imperials? Or do you charge and hope that the weight of fire does not kill you?

Those outside;

Everyone; The portal seems to pulse and you can feel the warp fighting to break the barrier between it and realspace. The men of the Eighth and of the Helghans are not ready for what barrels out of the portal in a huge wave of daemonic flesh and bone. Random assortments of lesser daemons rush out and charge the lines of the Eighth, stand firm and hold the line until those inside are able to take the bastion and aide you, and the Apostle makes his return.

Lynx; Your offer to have your company search for the problem that is keeping the apostle from entering realspace goes unanswered as the dreadnought Shamesu seems to loose focus and stare off into the distance. You are not the only one that thinks this is strange because you can see Aresk stiffen and lean a bit toward the ancient to see what has happened.

Suddenly his head lowers quickly and stares at all of you there, *"Prepare your companies, we are about to be visited by an unfriendly force."* Get back to your company and prepare the third. As they get ready you see a large amount of lesser daemons charge out of the portal and break formation as they spread to attack the warriors of the Eighth. Hold the line and kill as many as possible until they either abate or the Apostle returns or the other companies inside come out to aide you.

Zamiel; You listen closely to the ancient Shamesu and silently your squad readies itself for whatever is coming your way. Being close to the portal itself when the flood of lesser daemons comes out you and your men are the first to be hit by the wave, fight off as many as you can and make your way to some form of high ground. 

Eisen; You ready yourself as you are told as Aresk rushes back towards your position and your eyes widen as you see the wave of daemons behind him charging the lines of the Eighth. Zamiel and his squad are like a rock in the sea of daemonic bodies and you see them fighting to get to high ground. Protect your captain against these daemons until help arrives from either the Apostle or the other companies inside.

Luminus; You are with Eisen and Aresk in this battle, fight off the daemons as you see fit. Sorry for the shit update on your part

Pavor; Make your way to the Fourth or the Third, be quick because the flood of daemons is behind you. Turn and fight once you have reached one of the lines.


----------



## Lord of the Night

A warning from the entombed marine was all Zamiel heard before the rush of Daemons assaulted his squad. "What the!" Zamiel uttered as a Bloodletter swung its Hellblade at him, Zamiel's iron claw blocking it. "Kill these Daemons, before they steal our souls!" he shouted to all around him. His tail lashed around and skewered the Lesser Daemon into the ground as his squad morphed weapons of their own, ranging from Power Fists to Lightning Claws to Thunder Hammers, and charged into the enemy.

Zamiel ducked a swiping claw of a Daemonette, grabbing it and yanking hard to pull the Maiden of Slaanesh into the range of his own talon, bringing it around and striking her head from her shoulders. Ahead two of his men were holding off a shambling line of Plaguebearers, their Assault Cannons blazing, while the other two were grappling with a horde of Bloodletters, their weapons crackling with lightning and reaping a fearsome tally among the Warriors of Khorne.

Yet why was this happening Zamiel thought, the Daemons of Chaos fought against each other that was true but the Iron Warriors worshipped Chaos Undivided. There was no reason to attack them like this. Two possibilities sprung to mind, neither was good. Either they had displeased the Chaos Gods, a truly frightening thought, or another Legion of Chaos Marines that worshipped Undivided was trying to stop them. The Black Legion, Word Bearers and Alpha Legion were the only suspects Zamiel could think of, or maybe it was a weakling chapter of Space Marines who had seen the light of Chaos only recently. Zamiel pushed the thoughts from his mind and pulled himself back to the fighting, barrelling with claws extended into a group of jibbering and writhing Pink Horrors.


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus stepped carefully through the fallen door with Perdos and Denset close behind, peering through the darkness he could just barely make out the out lines of control pannels, judging by the positions of the different pannels he worked out the door, cameras and lifts.

Ordering Perdos over to the lift controls and Denset over to the doors Maximus himself moved to the cameras, looking over the multiple screens he saw his fellow Iron warriors fighting through the corridors, searching the screens he quickly found Corius' position and seeing the Blood letters attack Maximus had an evil thought.

"Denset, close all of the doors to that area" he ordered, returning to the screens he saw Kerias' squad in a lift a few floors down, "Perdos activate that elevator quickly", next he looked for Severus and found him along with the Obliterators just along from several squads of Guardsmen, seeing that Kerias' elevator wound open onto the flank of the humans he told Denset to open the blast doors blocking the lift and to close any escape routes other than the way that his brothers were coming through.

Moving around the console Maximus found the bastion weapon controls, grinning evily he turned the bastion auto-turrets on the loyalists, switching to outer cameras he saw the Ancient Shamesu along the third and fourth companys under assault from Daemons, going back to the weapons controls he set the bastions outer guns and cannons to rake the Daemons with hundreds of high explosive rounds.

Suddenly he heard a scutteling behind him and spun quickly to see the empty room, apart from another control pannel that he had not seen.
"Captain sir, there is somthing you should see here, some sort of control system that Im not sure about"

While waiting for Severus' reply, Maximus beckoned for Denset and Perdos to cover the door while he returned to the cameras to enjoy Corius' plight.


----------



## Masked Jackal

"Now gird yourself Eisen, enemies far more suited to our skills come." Luminus could feel the warp expanding in this area, as he felt various lesser daemons appear. Quickly, he set up the defenses in his mind, in case any of these were strong sorcerors. As well, he powered up his weapon, causing the spear to shine, incandescently. They would be here soon.


----------



## Fumble Tumble

Kerias laughed "our work is never finished my brothers", as the kasrkin move forward, taking cover behind various rubble and other signs of destruction.

As the nearest raise their weapons, Kerias starts releasing crisp orders "bolters up front, kneeling, i want covering fir at the closer targets, lascannons, keep out of this, we are for tanks only, plasma weapons, behind bolters, aim at the further targets, if will go for high priority targets, such as sargents and heavy weapons, but if you sdo see them, do not hesitate to exterminate them"

As the squad goes into defensive positions, the lascannon warriors move to the sides of the elevators, following his orders, while the bolters went down on one knee, the plasma weapons starting to search for worthy targets.

As the first kasrkins open fire, the squad starts to fire back, spraying bolter rounds, and bursts of plasma at the members, Kerias starts hunting for the various targets worth a shot from his revered weapon.

He spots the heavy weapons specialist shouldering a missile launcher, and start to aim at the elevator, so with a shout of rage, he sends forth a blast of hot laser, vapourising the humans head, and sending fragments of gore splattering across the room.

the lights in the elevator suddenly flicker on, finally after waiting for ten bloody minutes, they can get back in this war "hurry up with killing these bastards" Kerias yells, as a stray round catches Helios in the arm, spearing straight through it and hitting Geltas in the stomach, wounding them both.

With a shout, he walks over and presses the activation pad for the elevator, just as his squad finish off the Kasrkins.

"Report" he mutters, "Geltas and Helios are wounded minorly, but they will survive" Ferinos said.

"thats alright, prepare for fire fights" Kerias says before jamming a new power cell into his lascannon and powering up his power sword.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius and his men were done defiling the room, and still hadn't learnt the purpose of the grand machine in the center of the room. Tearing the outer layer off didn't show anything but and equally intricate interior, and the tech adepts corpses could show them nothing. The warp was tangible now, like it was a heavy wind or ocean that moved about their bodies. This was just frustrating, Corius had seen millennium of technology come and go, but had no clue what this infernal machine was! Suddenly, Corius noticed a clawed arm appear out of the floor, like that of a Bloodletter. Corius was quick to stab it with his lightning claws, but it was no less troubling. As far as he was aware the Black Apostle hadn't broken free, so this was an assault. "Die you bloody handed bastard" he heard Ares shout as he impaled a bloodletter on his blade. At random points around the room, more bloodletters were pushing their way into real space, and attacking them. Corius shoved his lightning claws through the face of one, before slinging it round in and arc, and hurling it at another one before the body disintegrated into warp stuff. There was about 12 in the room now, and nearly every time they killed one, another one pulled it's way through warp space into reality. They still had no idea what the machine did, but it was worth turning it on, maybe it could stop the tide of daemons. "DESIN! Turn that infernal machine on. What ever it is, Khorne's servant want it." Corius shouted across the room as he sent another daemon back to the warp. Just as he was doing this, he heard an eerie grating noise like that of metal grinding against metal. He spun round to see the doors, their only exit, closing. Corius knew who to blame. Maximus. The bastard couldn't handle the fact that his squad had failed their captain, and so was trying to finish Corius off. "When I get out of here, I'm going to rend your head from your shoulders" he though to himself. 

The machine crackled into life, but the removal of the outer shell meant that random arcs of lightning lanced out. Most hit nothing, and a few struck bloodletter square in the chest. Corius still wasn't sure what the hell the machine was doing, but he didn't want to be around if it's reactor went critical. He back to the doors and shouted more orders "Squad to me!" They all carved bloody paths through the servants of the blood god, and formed a perfect hexagon, a position they had perfected over thousands of years of fighting with one another. Mithras was their demolition expert, and the needed those doors open. "Mithras, I want some melta charges on those doors. The rest of you, protect him while he works" And so they stood, defiant against all odds. Desin burnt the bloodletters to little more than ash with his flamer, and crushed the head of any that were fool enough to get close to him. Celux and Ares tore their foes apart with bolter and autocannon shells, and Corius stood and tore his foes apart with his lightning claws. None of them had to take a step in any direction. And Mithras set up melta charges witch would blow the doors from their hinges. And all the while, the grand machine stood in the center of the room, cackling like a god who was pleased with the slaughter taking place...


----------



## dark angel

Pavor Man-Flayer tromped backwards towards the wall, knowing that behind him came a Daemonic horde that would rip his sarcophagus bound form free. He knew they were closing as Astartes around him begun to spin, firing wildly at the hip while retreating backwards across the muddy surface, their feet slipping beneath the sludge. The sound of charging feet rung out inside of his chassis and he spun, flexing the fingers of his giant claw. A Khorne-Aligned Daemon, with a telltale belt of skulls and a giant curved blade that barely fitted in its clawed hands. The bronze armour of the Daemon was broke, twisting inconveniently as red skin was shown beneath. It to split, squirting blood across the front of Pavor who sent it flying backwards with one mighty strike from his hammer.

Another such creature, sporting a pair of high curled horns roared, the mouth opening unnaturally wide and revealing a fork tongue surrounded by rows upon rows of teeth. It leapt forwards on reverse jointed legs and Pavor laughed to himself, lifting one sharp finger of his claw upwards at an angle. The beast slid down onto the blade and began to slash at the bulky armour of the Dreadnaught, the blade howling for flesh. Faces writhed along the surface, no doubt the unlucky souls who had fallen to such a barbed weapon. It ignored the other two claws curl upwards, digging deep into its back and shattering vertebrae and born.

The still roaring form was thrown into the path of a Heavy-Plasma bearing Brother, who fired and turned it into nothing more than a steaming black pile of meat. His massive form continued onwards towards where Captain Aresk stood with several other members of the Fourth Company, along with an Astartes that Pavor did not recognize. Something hard struck his back and his giant form nearly fell into the ground. He regained his composure and knew that cold talons were seeping into his shouldered form. He spun faster than it should be possible and something terrible was thrown away.

Now he got a look at his attacker. Hunched over like a wolf, it was covered in skinless flesh that twisted and turned, dripping ichor and other strange liquids into the mud. A long snout, furrowed into a snarl protruded from a vein draped face with a pair of black orb eyes that shorn gently in the light. However it betrayed the fanged mouth, which dangled with ripe flesh that Pavor assumed was taken from an Astartes. He roared and the beast returned the gesture. Within his chassis, Pavor smiled and broke the flesh around his mouth painlessly and charged. The wolf-creature did the same and leapt up at the last moment, latching thick claws unto his front.

A series of bites struck him but each slid away, leaving a red patch of gore across the helm and body of Pavor. The Dreadnaught-Interred laughed loudly once again as his hammer and claw struck in unison, ripping through the flesh and sending it reeling away with a chunk of armour in its claws. He chased after the shaking form, picking it up in his claw so all could see he tore it in two and let the moist flesh fall to the ground. He caught sight of the Apostle’s Guard and Zamiel as he charged towards Aresk and thought darkly; _If the Apostle, or even the Pantheon granted me with a living form, I would make that bastard pay with his damned life._


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel roared as he wrenched the skull from a Bloodletter's neck with one strong pull, holding it high he roared the battlecry of the Iron Warriors, "Iron Within!, Iron Without!. Show these monsters what we are made of men!". His squad silently acknowledged their leader's zeal as they hacked away at the enemy with weapons of the purest iron. Two of them, one carrying a large iron Halberd and the other carrying twin revving iron Chainaxes, were hacking into a pack of scintillating Daemonettes at close range while the other two, one wielding twin Assault Cannons and the other wielding a Heavy Flamer and a Multi-Melta, were blasting away at a massive gathering of Furies in the air.

Zamiel was having the time of his life, these Daemons were true warriors he thought to himself as he clashed with a pack of Bloodletters, swiftly dodging striking hellblades and slicing back tenfold for every blow made against him. Suddenly a roar let out and Zamiel barely leapt out of the way as a Bloodcrusher stampeded past him, trampling two Iron Warriors in its path. Zamiel howled a challenge to the Daemonic rider who quickly answered, both rider and steed roaring in unison. The Bloodcrusher charged forward, its rider slicing out with its sword only for Zamiel to parry to the side and claw a gash in the rider's arm. Roaring in anger the the rider brought the Juggernaut around only to see Zamiel leap up and grab him by his head, dismounting him and letting the Juggernaut run free. Zamiel laughed, his shadowy mask's mouth split in a rictous grin as he crushed the rider's skull in the palm of his claw.

Zamiel's grin disappeared as he heard a roar and turned around to see the Juggernaut charging at him. Bracing himself Zamiel grabbed it by the horns and tried to stop its charge to no avail, as it pushed him back Zamiel grinned and flipped onto its back. "Obey me Daemon steed!" the Possessed Marine shouted as the Juggernaut howled and bucked, trying to demount Zamiel. "I tire of this!" Zamiel proclaimed as he jammed his claws into the Juggernaut's neck, letting iron enter the Daemonic mount and overwhelm its interior. Brought to a calm the mount affirmed its loyalty to its new rider. "Let us see what we can do, Daemon" Zamiel muttered as he whipped the Daemon into a charge, barrelling into a pack of Horrors. Laughing madly Zamiel brought his claws down upon the enemy, this was truly a blessing from the Blood God himself for such a fine slaughter.


----------



## deathbringer

His offer fell upon deaf ears as the portal to the realm of the unknown pulsed, sickening mass throbbing like a distorted half beat and Shamesu seemed to stiffen dreadnaught form rising high as it stare, fixated by the portal.

"Prepare your companies, we are about to be visited by an unfriendly force."

Relief, at the fate of Cheetah, at the mercy of the apostle faded into grim determination as he rushed away, tapping the vox bead in his ear.

"Hold and lock" he roared and he saw the members of company move as a mass, heavy weapons sliding to one knee, bracing lascannons and missile launchers against broad shoulder and pauldron. Above them heavy bolters were raised, held tightly in two hands whilst behind them lingered those combat specialists power and chainswords glinting in the swelling purple light that radiated from the portal. They were the safety net of the company, spotters and experts in brutal warfare to a man, they were known as the protectors, each a veteran, each a merciless bastard. They lingered eyes flitting around for the slightest sight of danger. 

The line was meters away when the portal seemed to belch swelling and tearing into a wide gaping maw and nightmares flooded through.

Daemons

Horrors of the warp in corporeal form they rushed, a mass of colours and hues, distorted figures pushing forwards in a surge and Lynx increased his pace yet they rushed on, gaining upon him with every step. His muscles burned yet he pushed the pain away and strode on lengthening his stride yet the line seemed miles away and the sea of snarling daemons grew closer. 

"Fire at will" he roared as he wheeled round bolt pistol sliding from his hip and powersword slipping easily from its sheath. Lightening crackled across its surface as he thumbed the activation rune and he raised the pistol

"What?" roared Sabre confused and frustrated and Lynx felt the thump of his feet as he began to rush towards his captain.

"This is an order fire at will"

An eruption of noise as heavy bolters whirred to life whilst the tremendous explosion of a lascannons sent projectiles soaring into the massed ranks of the daemons. The front line toppled as bullets rushed round Lynx, waves of expelled projectiles tearing the corporeal forms apart. His own pistol twitched in his hand as he placed round after round into the daemonic skulls,carefully aimed shots, blowing apart heads with impunity, yet something was odd.

Somethin different. A lascannon round blasted over his should, a pure blast of well aimed energy that exploded upon a daemonic midriff and the daemon was lost in a mass of smoke and shrapnell. 

The smoke cleared and there were a couple of crys of dismay as the daemon leapt forward unharmed only to be cut down by a well aimed bolter round. It was unreal, some chaotic force protected these abominations and Lynx gave a snarl as his own bolt shell seemed to be deflected by a whisp of sorcerous energy.

"Some for protects these abominations, lascannons save your ammo"

A second snarling growl resounded through the vox and Lynx whirled to see a huddle of protectors,power swords in hand moving forward, Sabre's terminator armoured form in there midst

"Protectors, protect your captain"

They slunk forward, sprinting yet still at their ease, graceful, wolves ready for the kill and Lynx gave a smile holding his ground as the daemons advanced once more. Bolt rounds streaked and they fell yet now he felt the presence of his brother he leapt foward, sword arcing scything through the neck of a blood read daemon who shrieked as he was cut down. Talons raked his side armour causing a horrific screaming squeal and lynx whirled to find a disembowelled form falling to the floor, a sergeant with a power sword, 3 teeth missing and grizzled scars upon his face leaping forward into the gap with a laugh

"Not your scene is it captain?"


Sabre crashed forward terminator armoured bulk knocking a group of blue daemons asunder and he crushed each one with a single stamp of his mighty feet.

"Not my scene brother?" Lynx whispered as he moved alongside the grizzled veteran, engaging a second daemon, violent blue and long fingered. A slashing cut was ducked yet the second blow of his power sword clattered upon claws. They locked together fanatic daemonic strength matched against astartes grit and there faces came closer as the blade forced the claws away and the yellow eyes grew wide. The grizzled veterans blade swooped in a wide arc hacking through two necks and a subtle flick of his wrist lodged the blade into the back of the daemons skull.

The pressure subsided and Lynx kicked the body away into a second daemon who tumbled backwards and the light in his eyes died to a bolt round from Lynx.

It was an odd sensation to feel awkward amongst his own company, yet amongst these veterans of warfare, men of many years, specialists in the art of hacking and slashing, Lynx felt alone.

The toothless veteran seemed to sense his emotions and Sergeant Drake turned to Lynx 

"Captain Lynx, you know we follow you to whatever end, dont you?"

The doubts subsided and he gave a small smile. He was not fit to lead such men, but by the Apostle's wrath they trusted him. Released of doubts he spun pivoting past Drake to plunge his blade through a daemons leg, his bolt pistol arcing round to crash into its skull and it toppled the blade sliding free with ease and he raised it, a broad smile rippling across his face

"Perhaps there his hope for me yet, Sergeant Kyr"

Ahead of them Lynx heard Sabre's throaty chuckle

" Only if there deaf dumb and blind"

Around him the veterans laughed raucously as they slew, yet lynx noticed the mirth never dislodged the focus from there eyes.


----------



## unxpekted22

Eisen heeded the words of Luminous, he didnt doubt this new enemy would be much more of a challenge than the pitiful guardsmen. 

His Captain, Aresk retreated behind them. It was essential he stay alive longer than any of the others in the fourth. Eisen assembled his unit _"UUUUPP!, GUNS READY! demons approach us!"_

his ten chaos marines turned to the same directions, guns aimed at the ready, heavy bolters planted for maximum accuracy and firing rate.

The dreadnought of the fourth, Pavor, had also turned towards Eisen's direction, his heavy and powerful legs, though short under the weight of the demonic chasis, crushes the ground as he ran.

_"Luminous! I must admit I have yet to fight demons, assuming Aresk will be rather occupied, I depend on you for support!_"


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus didn't respond, but placed his staff in front of him, focusing his will on the task at hand. Seeing that these denizens of the Immaterium had no real unified patronage, he decided on something simple, bolts of energy, called a doombolt by some. With the focus in front of him, Luminus projected these bolts through it at the nearest daemons, pointing his staff outward with one hand.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Ok here is the long awaited update, im truly sorry for the wait and downtime everyone, as i said in the recruitment thread school had taken over my life but now im back....hopefully  im going to move this on a bit to get the story moving again and give all of your characters something to talk about and brood over. this part of the update is a sort of prologue and leads up to where you will be currently, i want you all to post on this part of the update and the next.]

Those inside the bastion; 

Redivivus; You and your cult brothers take careful aim with your weapons and open fire on the Imperial Gaurd that are blocking you from reaching the Command Center in one piece. While many fall to your fire there are still a lot standing and their combined firepower begins to keep you from pushing forwards, small pricks and every now and then the occasional thump and crackle of a heavey round can be heard and felt across your body. 

As you ready yourselves to follow your captain towards the gaurdsmen you see the massive cargo elevator's doors on the other side of the room open up and Kerias and his men step out and open fire on the backs of the gaurdsmen. Between you and them the rest of the opposition is swept away easily and you make your way towards the blast doors and (whichever way you want) you get them open and stride in, Severus right behind you. 

Inside you can see a massive room filled with all sorts of machines and dials and personel, kill them all, but leave the Colonel for Severus. Three quarters of the room is surrounded by a massive window that allows you to look down upon the front of the bastion and gaze upon whatever might be attacking it. After you are finished make your way to the window and look across the landscape before you, what do you see other then your brothers below making war? The broken walls, the landing areas of the titans, the actual titans themselves? How does this make you feel? 

Contemplate this because when you next look down upon the battlefield you see a massive portal that is pouring out daemons that are attacking your brothers. But suddenly you feel a strange change in the warp, how it makes you feel is up to you, but in some way you realize something has changed the flow. You see the portal collapse in on itself and turn into a massive black ball that is turning rapidly and begin to suck in all the daemons that are outside. 

Once the last daemon is sucked in the ball grows bigger and bigger and then it too collapses but the resounding power and energy that should be released blinds all but those who are warptouched. Because of your blessings you can see a massive rift and then a huge armored foot step out of it followed by a large arm that looks much like that of those who would have the Obliteratus virus. This is then followed by the rest of what you finally recognize to the Black Apostle himself, he is bigger then you remember, his massive flaming wings covered in smoke, the sking that can be seen is almost translucent and the thick veins underneath glow with a mercurial blood, the same that your captain Severus was blessed with.

His right arm is a huge clawed fist holding his warhammer while the other is a massive cannon surrounded by tinier barrels. His armor is black like obsidian and when you look upon his face you realize that he has indeed changed, before he still wore a helm but now his face was bare for all to see, two huge iron horns shot up from his foreheadand his eyes were as black as the void. Unlike other daemon princes you had seen born across your long life the Apostle does not let out a mighty roar, in fact no one makes a sound, his birth is accompanied with complete and utter silence...the sound of death itself. As he finally steps out the rift disappears and you can see that everyone else present can see him, how does seeing him again make you feel? 

Kerias; Once you enter the elevator the few seconds it takes to make its way up seem like ages, even your men begin to shift uneasily, but once the doors open you and your men rush out to aid your captain. You can see in front of you the backs of barricades that had been set up to stop anyone coming from the other room, but not to stop those using the elevator. You and your men open fire on the gaurdsmen and within seconds between you and the Obliterators they are all killed, you follow them to the blast doors to the Command Center and enter after them and Severus seeing a huge room filled with machines and consoles. 

Kill all those inside but leave the Colonel for Severus and let him do what he pleases with him. Do what your captain tells you to do but at some point you will notice the huge window that encompasses almost all of the room and that you can look out at the landscape below and beyond. Below you can see your brothers fighting daemons that are pouring out of a massive warp portal, what else do you see? Do you see the mighty titans beyond the wall? Or the broken walls? Or even the landing zone beyond where the Eighth had landed?

Either way you are drawn to the portal as it collapses in on itself makes a large, rapidly spinning black ball that begins to consume all the daemons present. Once it collapses on itself your vision blacks out but when it returns the sight you see is much different then the one before it, all of the daemons are simply gone and right where the portal was now stands a mighty daemon prince who could only be the Black Apostle. Yet he does not roar, instead his rebirth is accompanied by complete and utter silence, nothing is making a sound and it sends chills down your spine.

He is a massive being, much bigger then you remember, his huge fiery wings are covered in black smoke, is armor a black obsidian and under his translucent white skin can be seen his glowing mercurial veins. His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon surrounded by tinier barrels of death, his face is now bare, two huge iron horns shoot out from his forehead and his eyes are as black as the void. His face resembles the symbol of your legion, a leering skull, how does seeing him again make you feel? 

Severus; You see Redivivus and his brothers begin to slow down due to the heavey weight of firepower opposing them and suddenly the one simple rule of sieges that the Apostle has pounded into your head since your inception starts ringing loud and clear, DO NOT LOOSE MOMENTUM. Are you frustrated that the Obliterators are suddenly being held back? You know that if you were to loose all of your momentum that you would loose most of the power that you had in the siege and reinforcements would eventually arrive to aid the Imperials.

Yet as you begin to push forward you see the huge doors to the cargo elevator at the end of the room open and Kerias and his men rush out. They open fire and between them and the Obliterators the Imperials are gone in seconds and the way to the Command Center is at last open to you. Once Redivivus gets the doors open and you enter you will see machines and consoles everywhere along with personel but who interests you the most is the Colonel who stands looking out the massive glass window that surrounds three quarters of the room.

As Redivivus and Kerias kill those in the room you approach the Colonel and right before you kill her suddenly what Corius had told you about a strange generator he had found pops into your head. Ask her about it, cut her arm off, skin her, do what you will but evetually she will tell you that it is a device that is able to affect the flows of the warp and that its purpose is to keep something on this planet from doing something. That is all she will tell you so kill her how you will once you have that information and vox Corius immediately to ask him what has happened since last you spoke.

As he speaks to you you look out to the battlefield below and see your brothers fighting a huge horde of daemons that is pouring out of a massive portal. Suddenly you feel a change in the warp, something is changing the flows of it you can tell, it makes you feel a certain way how is up to you. Yet as you look out and see the Titans and the broken walls beyond and then back down at the portal you see it collapse and form a massive rapidly spinning black ball that begins to suck in all the daemons. 

Because you are warptouched you can see it collapse and a massive rift open wide to allow the one person you have been waiting to see for a very long time. As the Apostle pulls himself free you gaze upon his form and realize that he has changed a great deal then the last you saw him. His massive fiery wings are covered in black smoke and his armor is dark like obsidian, his translucent skin covers his thick veins the glow because of the mercurial blood that flows through them.....just like yours. 

His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his right is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels of death. His face is now bare for all to see and resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes are as black as the void itself and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. His birth is not accompanied by a mighty roar, instead all is silent and nothing is making a sound, it is the sound of the void the sound of death itself. How does seeing him again make you feel? Vox Corius again and ask on his status.

Corius; You get a vox from Severus asking you what has happened since last you spoke, tell him of your current situation. As the daemons begin to surround you and Ares falls to one knee, a bloodletter trying to power its axe through his chest, the generator in the room begins to get louder and louder until it finally lets out a huge blast of light. Yet because you are warptouched you see the blast for what it truly is, a huge amount of warp energy is sent out across the warp and you can feel the flow change. 

When you look away from the generator you see that the bloodletters are all gone and that Ares is picking himself up. The charges on the doors explode and do their job giving you a way out, yet before you leave you take one last look at the generator and tell your men to mark it on their HUD's map so that it can be inspected by the Eighth's techmarines. Make your way back to the breach, take note of all the blood that is seen on the walls that wasnt there when you were on your way, maybe more daemons had been present and killed reinforcements?

When you reach the breach instead of heading towards the Command Center you feel something pull you towards the breach and outside and as you step through the dust you hear nothing, nothing is making a sound. When the dust clears and you step into the light you see an astounding sight before you, there standing in the middle of the battlefield is a massive daemon prince who could only be the Apostle. A smile comes across your face as you take his new form in, massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor is a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. 

His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels. His face resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes as dark as the void and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. How does this sight make you feel? Do you forget about Maximus? You will be getting a vox from Severus asking you for an update, let him now what you saw the generator do.

Maximus; As you watch Corius's men back into a smaller and smaller space the screen is blinded and then blacks out as what you assume to be the generator exploding yet you feel no force resonating through the bastion. Only you and three of your men are left and you all watch as each screen blacks out, you turn and make your way out of the Control Room yet as you reach one of the forks the way ahead is blocked by a fallen ceiling, the sunlight from outside pouring in. 

As you and your decimated squad shoot out of it and land on a small landing the first thing that hits you is the lack of sound, literally nothing can be heard or is making a sound. It is almost like you are in space itself yet you know you are not, but when you turn to see what is going on with your brothers below you see a massive daemon prince standing in their midst that could only be the Apostle. Massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor is a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. 

His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels. His face resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes as dark as the void and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. How does seeing him make you feel? Are you embaressed by how many men you have lost? Does seeing him make you hate Corius even more? Do you believe Corius to be dead?

Those outside;

Lynx; As you and your men battle the daemons hand to hand and the rest of your company tears into them with thier guns you spy the portal beyond as it begins to throb. Your attention not on that battle at hand a bloodletter barrels into you and knocks you to the ground yet is run through by Jag who reaches down to help you up only to have a huge claw rip from behind him though his thigh and out the other side. 

You get up and see that a troupe of daemonnettes is beginning to dance among your men and reaping a toll and order your men to fire on them tearing them apart as Jag reaches around and shoots off the daemonette's head who has its claw in his leg. When you reach him you catch a flashing light up above you and look up to the Command Center of the bastion and see gunfire inside and know that most likely Severus has reached it. 

When you look back down towards the portal you see it suddenly collapse and turn into the same black ball you had seen before yet this time no lightning is involved and all the daemons present are torn from where they stand and consumed by the ball. Soon it too collapses and you are blinded by a piercing light, yet when your vision returns it is greeted by the mighty form of a daemon prince that could only be one person.....the Black Apostle.

Massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor is a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels. His face resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes as dark as the void and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. Not only this but his birth is not accompanied by a mighty roar, in fact it is not accompanied by anything except complete and utter silence just like how it is in the void of space. How does this make you feel/think? You are seeing him for the first time in your life so this will have a very big impact on you.

Eisen; As you and Luminus fight off the waves upon waves of daemons along with Aresk you can feel a fire burn within your breast, these things should not be here and you know it. Yet you also know that now is the time to show your captain what you and your squad are capable of and you push them and yourself to the limit. Ahead of you you see a group of plaguebearers and bloodletters charge your squad and you draw your sword ready to defend your captain. 

The bloodletters reach your line first but are soon joined by the plaguebearers and the fighting gets very intense. You catch one of your men who has lost his helmet as he falls screaming with a plaguebearer on his chest, his skin peeling away and his eyes melting, and another one of your men get one of his legs hacked off by a bloodletter who then rips his head off of his shoulders and roars in triumph. 

Seeing your men fall will most definately have an effect on you, this is the first time you have fought daemons and the sights you are seeing will shape you in many ways. Yet as you fight on you see the portal in the distance collapse and turn back into the ball that was there before. The daemons around you are sucked into it and consumed by it, and as the last daemon is consumed it too collapses and a blinding flash of light shoots out and blinds you and your men. 

When you open your eyes the sight you see before you stuns you, you had never seen daemons before let alone a daemon prince in the flesh and here before you is the Apostle himself. Massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor is a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels. His face resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes as dark as the void and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. Not only this but his birth is not accompanied by a mighty roar, in fact it is not accompanied by anything except complete and utter silence just like how it is in the void of space.

How does this make you feel? As said above you had never encountered daemonkind until today so this whole experience will have a very big effect on you.

Luminus; Your bolt flies out and causes the daemon it hits to explode to your delight. As you fight alongside Eisen and his men and the captain Aresk you begin to use your powers more and more as you realize that the daemon horde is growing still and showing no sign of stopping.

Yet suddenly you feel a strange change in flow in the warp, you can feel what you had seen before above in space on your ship being overtaken by another more powerful blast of warpstuff that seems to push it back and into calmness. This is very strange yet you have little time to contemplate it as you realize that the massive black ball is back and is consuming the daemons that had previously been attacking you and all of the Iron Warriors present on this planet. 

You see a large rift open and your hearts jump as you see the person who you came here to meet step out of it, the Black Apostle. Massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor is a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels. His face resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes as dark as the void and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. Not only this but his birth is not accompanied by a mighty roar, in fact it is not accompanied by anything except complete and utter silence just like how it is in the void of space. Yet this silence does not disturb/have much of an effect on you because it shows you something truly amazing about the Apostle and his gifts.

How does seeing this make you feel/think? You know what you must tell him and you feel that that had been the reason why the portal had appeared at first and not him. you have much to contemplate.

Zamiel; You, being closest to the portal as it opened, are surrounded by daemons. Yet you are now part of the Apostle's Elite Gaurd, champions of champions among gods, and you are able to fight your way free and get to higher ground. Because of your gifts you are able to see the portal collapse and turn back into the black ball that you had been gaurding originally as it begins to consume all the daemons present. 

You stand and watch as the ball also collapses and opens into a rift that only those that are warptouched can see. In seconds the being who you have been waiting to see for thousands of years steps out and back into realspace, the Apostle himself. Massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor is a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. His right hand is a massive clawed fist that holds his mighty warhammer and his left is a huge cannon that is surrounded by smaller barrels. His face resembles your legion symbol perfectly, his eyes as dark as the void and two massive iron horns shoot out from his forehead. Not only this but his birth is not accompanied by a mighty roar, in fact it is not accompanied by anything except complete and utter silence just like how it is in the void of space. How does this make you feel? What do you do? 

-----------------------------------------

[ok so that will take all of you up to this point, i know it seems fast but we really arent moving along very far in the storyling and i wanted to get us out of the rut that we had fallen into. this part of the update is another character building time, i want to learn more about your characters and what makes them tick, also how they feel about these recent events and those to come. 

You all have been informed that the Apostle intends to attack the largest fortress on the planet that is actually relatively close to the bastion you had just taken yet for now he is allowing the company time to regroup.]

Severus; You are on the top level of the bastion along with the other three captains of the Eighth, Aresk, Barok and Lynx, to your disappointment the young captain of the 3rd is not dead. You are all looking out towards the larger fortress that is very far in the distance and conversing about what has recently happened, the Apostle stands amidst all of you seemingly unaware at how much of an impact his very presence has on all of you still. Shamesu stands off and to the right of all of you, almost like an outcast, and the Apostle's elite gaurd stand on the outskirts of the room. General Shakra Radec in currently in the Command Center as the Helghans work to remake the bastion into a viable resource for the Eighth and Princeps Thel has already moved him and his titans to the other side of the bastion to ready themselves. You and the others had just been informed that the Apostle plans to take the largest fortress and from there spread the Helghans out across the planet knowing that once the head has been severed that the rest of the planet will fall quickly. Yet for now he is allowing the Eighth to regather itself and ready itself for the preparations of the next siege. Speak with one of the other captains, or Shamesu or the Apostle himself if you wish, yet you have a lot to brood on and go over.

Lynx; You also are on the top level of the bastion with the other captains, Shamesu and the Apostle. General Shakra Radec in currently in the Command Center as the Helghans work to remake the bastion into a viable resource for the Eighth and Princeps Thel has already moved him and his titans to the other side of the bastion to ready themselves. Your command cadre are not with you, does this make you feel vulnerable amidst such powerful and ancient warriors? Or does it lend you strength and make you feel like you could become like any of them? You and the others had just been informed that the Apostle plans to take the largest fortress and from there spread the Helghans out across the planet knowing that once the head has been severed that the rest of the planet will fall quickly. Yet for now he is allowing the Eighth to regather itself and ready itself for the preparations of the next siege. Speak with whom ever you wish but you have a lot to think on.

Zamiel; You and your men are located throughout the observation room that is being used by the Apostle and his command cadre, all of the captains are present along with Shamesu. You and your men have been ordered to stand back and simply watch and while you can feel that your squad members have no problem with it you still do. Does it feel shameful that the Apostle wants you to be silent and not hear your voice? How do you feel being treated this way? He knows about your ambitions but even though you try to say something you feel as though something blocks you...could it be him?

Luminus; You have been sent to examine the mysterious generator along with a terminator named Corius and his men. His snakelike appearance shows you that he is a favored warrior as he tells you about his experience within this room. Could this be the powerful force that you felt right before the Apostle appeared? It could or could not be but that is why he immediately sent you to examine it. You can feel the warp surrounding it and realize after awhile that this is indeed what you had felt and know that the Apostle must know right away, yet you cannot see him for awhile. Think on the current events that had just happened and if you want converse with Corius.

Corius; You are ordered to take a Sorceror whom you have never met to the generator that you had discovered and explain to him what had happened. Tell him what you experienced, especially about the strange warp wave you had seen shoot out from the machine, and if you want converse on other things like what had happened outside and who he is. You also have a lot to think on.

Kerias; You and your men are stuck with a sergeant from the 4th name Eisen and his men at the Command Center, ordered to gaurd it even though the bastion had been deemed safe already. Now is the time for you and your men to think on what you have seen and what has transpired this day. As you do Helghans are busy moving in and out of the Command Center as they repair damaged consoles and terminals and the like and get them up and going again. You can hear their General barking orders now and then and know that that man must have some serious iron balls to be able to run with the Captains, the Apostle and the titan commander. The Helghans look like miny Iron Warriors almost except they wear all black and dont really have power armor, this thought makes you regard the sergeant from the 4th Eisen. He and his men are battered and bloodied and you can tell that they are fresh meat, speak with him if you wish, converse on what happened outside or vice versa about what happened inside the bastion.

Eisen; You have been ordered to gaurd the Command Center along with a Havoc squad from the 2nd. Thier sergeant's name is Kerias "Bloodeyes" and his bionic eyes make you feel a bit uncomfortable, his thick armor aimed to protect him from heavey weapons fire and also his own guns. You and your men are fairly beat up and only half of your squad is left yet you feel as though they and you have proven yourselves to command. Helghans move in and out of the Command Center and you can hear their General barking commands every now and then, you have never really been up close and personal with them before. Convers with Kerias if you wish about what happened outside or inside, or not, but you do have a lot to go over in your mind.

Maximus; You have been called to have a meeting with the Apostle and Severus once the command meeting is over and you must have a few ideas as to what it is about. Your men are with you also and as you wait to be called into the Observation deck of the bastion you find yourself staring at the three obliterators that stand guard outside of it. You know of Redivivus but do not ever really remember having fought side by side with him in your long lives, his power must interest you a bit, along with his knowledge and ability to take so much punishment. Try and speak with him if you want, but do not be surprised if he does not answer you back right away or at all for that matter. You have a lot to go over in your mind after today's events. 

Redivivus; You stand gaurd outside of the observation level of the bastion as the Apostle and his command cadre speak on their plans to attack the planet's most heavily defended fortress. You have been silent for the most part since being in the Command Center and now you see a raptor sergeant named Maximus waiting with what is left of his squad to be called in to meet with the Apostle and you are guessing by the markings on him indicating his compay, Severus. You have much to think about but if Maximus gains the courage to speak to you answer back if you want or not it is your choice.


----------



## Lord of the Night

'YES!, SEE IF YOU CAN KILL ME SCUM!' Zamiel screamed in joy as he tore through the Daemons. They were no match, his claws tore through their skin like paper and his armoured skin deflected their weapons like lasbolts. Bringing his claw around to slice through a Plaguebearer, and then another and another and another. Until none were left. They were being consumed. Zamiel roared in anger, screaming for them to return and fight. Then what he saw silenced him, something that had never happened before.

The Black Apostle. In all his Daemonic glory and might. Zamiel was overcome with awe, such a mighty Daemon Prince. A demi-god that walked amongst them. Zamiel felt rapture, awe and a bit of envy. One day maybe he would ascend like that, become a demi-god himself. The power that the Apostle must wield for such an amazing form was the power to level worlds, star systems even. Zamiel swore then and there that he would gain that power one day.

Not long afterwards Zamiel and the Iron Sentinels, a name he had devised for them, were waiting in the command chambers. He had been ordered to watch and remain silent which although he did not voice to the Apostle he knew that the Apostle knew anyway. He was not happy. He could feel something, the Apostle no doubt, holding him back. Preventing him from voicing his views. This was not what he had expected, he had expected he would be valued. The Apostle had seen fit to promote him, he knew what Zamiel could do. So why hold him back?, what was the point. If he had no confidence in Zamiel's skills then why promote him in the first place. Zamiel thought of a hundred questions, and a hundred answers which only brought more questions. He would gain answers soon, when the battlefield beckoned once more. If the Apostle needed to see more of Zamiel's power then Zamiel would gladly show him it on the battlefield.


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus' spells started out simple, but they didn't stay so for long. Incantations and dark imaginings bubbled up in his mind, erupting forth from his focus with all the fury of a warriors cruder measures. His arcane strikes rose in power, the crescendo finally peaking as he punctuated a blast by skewering a bloodletter with his blade. All of this seemed useless however, for they just kept coming. 

It all ended with a suddenness that surprised him, even though he knew it was coming about a second before it did. The black orb from before came, and ripped the daemons apart, its warp presence seeming to be of overwhelming calm compared to the angry daemons it destroyed. Finally, it coalesced, and from it, the Dark Apostle emerged. 

Luminus would have cried out with ecstacy, if he was not paralyzed by the sense of stillness in the air. Quickly, he remembered himself however, and bowed to this avatar of the gods before him. "Dark Apostle....welcome to this world..." He spoke it in almost a whisper, but he was sure the massive being before him could hear. He waited before continuing about his discovery. Perhaps it was the calm in the air, or Luminus' own awe, but that matter seemed trivial now. A Daemon Prince in the flesh! Luminus could not recall a more stirring sight.

Edit: Apparently this part is less than up-to-date now, ignore. The update appears to favor Corius starting, so I'll go after there's a post for him.


----------



## unxpekted22

"Prove my worth!" he thought to himself

"Prove our worth!!" is what he yelled to his squad as the demons rushed towards them. Eisen didnt have much time to watch how his squad mates handled themselves, but he was not going to allow himself to fall no matter what. He used his sword and stud covered power armor in unison. He saw demons for the first time, and killed them for the first time...if such things could truly be killed.

Parrying the blows of a bloodletter felt good... beyond good. Hlaf of his squad fell around him as he laughed at the surprise of his own accomplishments. Little did he know that any longer and he would have fallen with his squad mates. The demons being sucked back into the warp giving the misconception of victory for himself. 

The sight of the Apostle took over his desire to turn and see of his captain was watching his accomplishments. Who cared about Aresk right now? no one. All eyes were on the black apostle, and so his were too. This was the figure he truly needed praise from, but in due time this would come. He was as pure demon as the entities he had just sent back to the warp, but he was _their_ demon...their leader.

Later being put on guard duty stumped his spirits, but he found the commander of the havoc squad near him to talk to, but didnt quite yet. He was too busy trying to convince himself that his body didn't any rest still. His body would recover quickly regardless but his mind had a lot of things to wrap itself around. How many things had he seen and learned for the first time this day?


----------



## deathbringer

The portal, throbbed sickening ripples belching towards me him holding his gaze. Sabre ducked aside cutting through a bloodletter and Jag fell behind as he jumped over the corpse. A daemonette fell to Lynx's sharp blade and he spun, pivoting away before he found himself flying through the air to tumble to the floor. Snapping jaws clashed above his head and claws tore at the air, the daemons frothing mouth pushing close to his own, mouth opening wide only to swallow a silvery blade, that crackled with sorcerous energy.

Jag's grim face looked down at him and his huge gauntleted hand reached down ready to help his captain to his feet. A slender claw burst through his thigh, exploding in a flourish of red stained talons and Jag roared in agony spinning his pistol round to blow off a daemonettes head.

The troop roared scything into the men that surrounded him and Lynx stood once more raising his power sword and pointing to the daemonettes as his soldiers began to fall.

"Fire at will brothers"

Their was a pause, as his warriors aimed there weapons and then there was a tremendous sonorous boom as the weapons of 3rd company opened up. Howling shrieks exploded into life as their slaaneshi skin blistered and they were torn apart, their corporeal forms destroyed and there souls rocketing back to the warp. His eyes followed them and he saw distinct flashes of light from the bunker and he nodded to himself, the forces inside must have claimed it, all they needed was the apostle to return to them.

The portal flared, flashing as it swelled growing a sickening mass of purple till it collapsed, tumbling in upon itself until it formed a small black ball, and Lynx felt a huge force pull upon him and he braced himself, his roar of warning lost in the sudden rush of screaming daemons as they were pulled backwards, a mass of flailing limbs absorbed into the portal.

The ball began to grow, limbs and wings, sprouting as the form grew and Lynx feel to his knees as his armor grew over his skin dark obsidian slates covering his skin a translucent white. A huge warhammer was clasped in a clawed hand, the size of it took his breath away.

The beauty of the vision above him stole his soul and he fell to his knees prostrating himself before his Lord, before the man to whom he had dedicated his soul.

Blinding light and silence, utter silence, his senses deadened by the revelation. Nothing seemed to move as the perfect face seemed to blossom through his watering eyes and Lynx roared.

"Prostrate yourself before your lord members of the third, the black apostle has returned to us"

For the first time in his life, Lynx wept with happiness, the tears ran free down his cheeks.

_____________________________________________________________

Lynx stood aside, apart from the scene hands behind his back as he saw his other captains mingling and mixing with the crowd. He was alone, none of his honour guard had been permitted entry, alone, unprepared. The nerves didn't seize him, he was one of the captains, the black apostle and shamesu alone had the right to judge him. They saw him as worthy of such magnificent company and he was honoured by it.

They had been informed of the apostle's plan, the plan to sever the head of this world, to tear off the beasts head leaving its corpse to spasm in the thro of the 8th grand company.

3rd company would be deeply involved in storming this bastion, indeed it was time for Lynx to earn his stripes, to show his metal.

Earlier he had sent his compliments to General Radec commending him upon the excellent work of his helghan forces and expressing his hope that their losses had not been severe. He had added his hope that the 3rd and the helghans would be able to continue to work as effectively in the future.

Yet he was still alone amongst the captains.

Barok, stood aside his huge terminator armoured form grave as he overlooked proceedings.

Lynx approached him slowly extending his hand as he went. 

"Brother Captain. I hope your company did not suffer to many losses. I wished to talk to you, for as captain of first company you have the most terminator suits. I lost prothor ironfist and his squad in this assault due to the madness of Pavor man flayer. The suits themselves are being worked on by Leo as we speak however until they are repaired I am down an assault squad, not counting the elevation of Zamiel to the apostles own guard."

He bowed his head in deference

"Your experience in combat is unparalleled, I was wondering, with the apostles will of course, if it would be possible for us to work more closely? At least until my suits are salvaged or my squads are replaced"

He kept his face blank as he staied up into the aggressive face feeling his breath catch, how would first captain react, did he loathe him as much as Severus did?


----------



## Euphrati

The lumbering footfalls of the obliterators underscored the constant snap of the las fire that rained down upon Severus and his blessed brothers. The sheer weight of fire was damning, threatening to stall their momentum in a withering barrage. Cold rage tugged at the edges of Severus’s mind; _how dare these vermin, these blind followers of a rotting corpse, seek to hold the eighth back from the glory it was due? The glory *he *was due?_ Words spoken by his liege, the Dark Apostle himself, so many years before rang through his soul- _Do not lose momentum._

The skin-bound haft of Oathbreaker creaked under Severus’s iron grip as he brought Shattersoul up before his massive form, undaunted in the face of the firepower of the loyal scum, and prepared to charge the makeshift emplacements. With a thundering roar, Severus powered forward as the air around him filled with incoming fire. The blackened surface of the daemon-bound stormshield hissed and spat as munitions, both las and solid projectiles, scored its face.

He had taken but a handful of strides when the massive metal doors of the lift burst open to spill forth Sergeant Kerias and his men. A vicious smile etched itself across Severus’s features as his men tore through the ranks of guardsmen like a scythe through grain. 

It was over in mere moments, bright crimson blood dripped from the razor-toothed edge of Shattersoul to leave dark stains upon the floor in Severus’s wake as he followed the might of Redevivus through the remains of the portal and into the control room. Banks of machines and cognatiors were scattered seeming haphazardly, chiming alarms echoed through the chamber accompanied by the electrical stink of ozone. Menials scattered at the advance of the obliterators but Severus ignored their shrill cries of alarm, his focus was locked on the Colonel standing near the massive expanse of windows that took up nearly three quarters of the exterior wall. 

The woman stood with a bolt pistol held defiantly before her, only the rapid rise and fall of her chest betraying the fear that gripped her. Severus gave a feral grin as he stalked forward, his hammer held loosely at his side as his bionic eye burning like a captured soul. The pistol rang out, throwing fiery sparks from where the bolt rounds ricocheted off of Shattersoul. Two paces from the woman Severus paused and let Shattersoul drop to his side, opening his broad chest to the frantic Colonel who leveled her pistol and pulled the trigger.

The reverberating click of the empty magazine seemed to cut across the dying screams of the menials like the tolling of death itself.

Severus threw back his head and laughed, the chilling sound containing no sense of mirth, before sheathing Oathbreaker at his hip to reach out and snatch the frantic woman off her feet by the neck. Her terror-filled prayers were cut short as he tightened his grip and brought her struggling form closer. Her gloved hands clawed at his armoured fist, prying impotently at the dark grey ceramite locked about her throat like a vise. 

Severus slowly increased the pressure; savouring the moment as the mortal’s life was drawn thin in his grasp and bringing her to within a mere handspan of his face to feel the woman’s last breath on his bare skin before a thought pulled itself from the dark depths of Severus’s mind. Relaxing his grip slightly, he watched as the colonel gasped as air rushed back into her lungs before speaking in a low growl,

‘The machine housed in this bastion, what is its purpose?’

Severus followed the woman's reaction closely; her eyes darted about his warp-touched visage as he spoke and her lips parted,

‘God-Emperor pro…’

_*‘HE… IS… NOT… A… GOD!’*_

Severus’s roar stopped the words in her throat, rupturing her eardrums and busting vessels in her eyes. Scarlet tears cut lines down the woman’s face and she fell limp against his wrath as Severus continued at a muffled growl,

‘…and he never will be. He is a corpse, rotten and decayed millenniums ago, and he cannot help you now. I should know, I fought and bled across the stars for him once. Long before your pitiful ancestry was spat forth from the loins of a whore. I have felt the touch of a real God,’

Severus pulled the semi-conscious woman up until his mouth brushed the skin of her cheek where the bloody tears lingered,

‘What is its _purpose_…?’

Her voice was barely audible even to his enhanced hearing as the words leaked from her lips and Severus lapped them up even as his tongue traced a path up her shivering skin. After a moment of silence Severus pulled back, crimson blood smeared across his lips,

‘What is it meant to stop and who constructed it?’

The woman mewed helplessly and Severus gave a disgusted sneer before slowly raising Shattersoul until the fanged edge of the stormshield sliced a delicate line along her jaw. The woman’s eyes dilated in abject terror as the daemon-bound artifact sucked at the edges of her soul. With the precision of an artisan, Severus proceeded to remove the woman’s face in a single paper-thin piece as he growled through the vox over her screams,

‘Corius, an update upon your status would please me greatly…’

-
(ooc- will do the rest once he has his reply)


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius was fighting tooth and claw now, literally. He must have killed dozens, if not hundreds of Bloodletters. However the more he killed, the angryier the Blood God seemed to get as more just kept pressing him and his men. "Mithras get those fucking charges armed. We're out of time!" He tore another bloodletter in half and roared a challange to the attackers. A few challanged him, but none stood for long. Ares was being pressed and kept sending them back. However, one who's horns were greater and bore great talismans of Khorne charged at him. They both knew it was a herald of Khorne, and he had challanged for one simple reason; Ares served Tzeentch, and Khorne HATED Tzeentch. The two battled for what seemed like and eternity. Ares had lived for thousands of years, but the Herald had lived for millions! In the end, Ares started to falter. His perferance to range was clear at this point, and the Herald was taking advantage of it. The two locked blades, but the Herald countered the weight of Ares' strike, and then reversed the blade to it came flying out of Ares' hands. It didn't wait for a moment longer, and thrust the blade at Ares' chest. Ares', who was still in shock from being beaten, only responded once the blade was about 3 inches from his chest. The raw heat of the blade started to eat through even his mighty terminator armour. The Herald pushed the blade closer and closer. Eventually the blade started to bore through his chest plate, and the Herald laughed, knowing he had won. 

"Corius, an update upon your status would please me greatly…" Severus' voice crackled over the vox. "Sir, we are being pushed back by Daemons, but we might not..." Just then, the machine in the center sent out several bright lances of energy. Finally, a blast rang out through the room, and Corius stared into the loght of pure warp energy that ran through the room. The daemon's disintergrated as the blast sweap them aside like a murderous tidal wave. Corius choughed as the dust of the room and adept bodies which have been oblitorated clogged his lungs. He cleard his throat and spoke "Sir we have just found out what this machine does. We were being surrounded by bloodletters, and Ares was almost going to be speared on the end of a hellblade, when the infernal machine cracked into life and oblitorated them." Corius looked around to see if he could see any visable working camera's in the room. Once he was sure that there were no 'untrust-worthy' eyes watching, he spoke again. "There is something else. As we were in the fight the bulkheads that are the only enterance and exit to the room closed. And the only place a door can be remotly close from is..." Corius paused and let his captain try to second guess his next words. "...the control room. And who did you send there?" Corius thought about Maximus and nothing less than pure boiling hatered surged through him. "Do what you will with that knowledge, but if it pleases you and the Black Apostle, I would ask for the honour of rending the insubordinate's head from his shoulders. I'm sure there are more...'suitable' raptor sergeants than him" Corius wanted revenge, he wanted payment in blood, but he knew that he would not have it unless Severus or the Black Apostle decreed it. "I leave that choice in your hands. This corridor goes no further, so there is nowhere for us to go but back. I will mark the machine on our HUDs and our techmarines can look at it for themselves. Even though it was construced by the Emperor's lap-dogs, it is a facinating piece of machinery, and will be of great value to the eighth and toe the Black Apostle." Corius let the vox go silent as he admired the magnificent and towering piece of machinery infront of him. Ares was dusting himself off, and Mithras was standing by the charges. His squad had fought hard, but they had not faltered, and they all still stood, unlike Maximus' incompitent half-breeds.

"Blow the charges, Mithras. We are out of here" Mithras detonated the charges and the bulkhead blew open. The five of them all strode out into the corridor, which before had been clear, but now was dripping with blood. Perhaps the were other bloodletter out here that had slaughtered reinforcements coming to them. However, Corius doubted that. Severus knew Corius was capable of this task, and unless Corius had told him he needed help he wouldn't have sent anyone. And Corius wouldn't had told him to send anyone, he was capable of anything! That made this the corridors of blood even more puzzleing. They climbed throught the corridors, past the dead senries and out onto the open battlefield, where corpses linded the floor like a sick parody of a carpet. Something was drawing Corius back to the inital breach, the small voice inside his head was growing louder. "Brothers, go to the main control room where Severus is. Wait for me there." He turned round to Desin "Desin, you are in charge until I return. You report to me, the Black Apostle and Severus. No one else. And don't, under any circumstances, trust Maximus! I need to investigate the initial breach. The Gods are calling me" 
"Yes sir!" His squad responded and started making their way back to Severus, and Corius walked with an ease about him towards the breach. He stood on the stained pieces of crumbled stone and looked out over the third company. He saw the vestages of daemons assaulting the third. However, each seemed to be sucked into this growing black ball. Corius stared with intregue at this black ball of power, when suddenly it exploded in unhholy glory, and what was left next was truely astounding. He gazed upon the Black Apostle as he truely was. Corius had seen this sight many times, but it never ceased to amaze him. His form was different almost every time, but this new form embodied the power and might of the Eighth grand company. Corius smiled as he gazed upon his Lord, his massive fiery wings are covered in smoke, his armor was a dark obsidian his skin a translucent white and his veins underneath glowing from the mercurial blood that flows through them. Corius opened up the vox to the whole of the Thrid company, mainly to let them know, but also to spite Maximus with the knowledge that he was still alive. "Members of the Third company, I, Corius, bear one of the greatest news. The Apostle is HERE!" As he spoke, the voice in his head changed his words, and the Apostles red eyes meet Corius' eyes, and he knew it was the Apostle whom he had seen and had spoken to him. But now his lord was saying something different, and it was only once rather than repeated. "I am HERE!"...


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

This is for Lynx;

Lynx; As you finish speaking Barok does not move, you start to thing that he might not have heard you at all but then just as the silence gets to be almost too much to bear he turns his head to look at you,* "I heard of Prothor's death......a sad occurance....."* He turns his whole body to face you and you can see, now that you are up close, that half of his chest is some sort of bionic replacement by the metal that can barely be seen on his thick neck, and that both of his arms are also bionic replacements. You can't recall ever noticing this but by the looks of them he has had these for a very long time, maybe since the heresy? Or maybe longer? Who knew.

He stares down at you as if studying every little detail with a practiced eye before continuing, *"I do not hate you as Severus does child, I am and always have been a pragmatist, and while I if I could I would burn the very tainted blood from your veins so that nothing but the blood of Olympia flowed through it, I sadly cannot. While I do despise that the blood of the whoreson Dorn must flow through our newest recruits I rest well with the fact that our blood has remained the most pure out of any other legion since the heresy bar the Alpha Legion, and can smile knowing that our techmarine brothers are working hard to purify the geneseed so that Dorn's blood wont be needed."*

He stopped and turned his head to stare out the window for a few seconds before looking back at you, *"Yet, unlike my brother Severus who harbors only his hatred, I recognize the power that lies inside of you and others like you. Yes the blood of Dorn flows through you but also the blood of our lord Perturabo, the fire of Olympia, also flows through you. You have a lot to prove to others still child, and if the Apostle sees fit to put you in command then I will not question his judgement, I have fought alongside him and Lord Shamesu since we were new recruits on Olympia and trust in him. I will lend you Fergus and his men, my third terminator squad, they are hardy warriors and will do the First proud fighting alongside you." *

Barok's mouth twitched a bit, was he smiling, *"Yet show him and his men the respect they deserve, they have fought longer then even your own honor gaurd. I will send them to you once we are out of this meeting." * Barok does not turn away as you think he would as if he is waiting for the conversation to continue, do you thank him and walk away or continue talking about other things?


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius bathed in the the light of the Apostle for what felt light hours. The unholy light permeated Corius' armour and made his skin glow. Corius let a long breath out, but this time his breath glowed a misty silver. Corius tasted it, and it tasted vaguely of mercury. Obviously, more exposure to the warp was having an effect on his body. Corius chuckled. The Apostle's blessing was upon him, and he would not fail. The voice came back to his head, more commands from the Apostle "Take our sorcerer to that machine, he should see it" This link was pleasurable, but Corius knew that it would only last as long as was necessary. Corius stepped off of the crumbled wall and onto the soft earth which moulded around his feet. He was planning to walk all the way, but Corius remembered that his suit enabled him to teleport. It was a stupid thing to forget, but the corridor had disabled it's ability. He let his left claws slid out and stabbed the floor. He then hit the center button and barrelled across the land scape invisibly. There was a great thunder clap of noise and Corius appeared. He had slightly over shot it slightly, and was now almost directly in front of the Black Apostle. He looked up, and the Apostle's deep red eyes bored into his his soul. All his knowledge and experience was laid bare, and the Apostle knew everything about him. And yet, Corius knew nothing about his except what he had seen of him. This made Corius vulnerable, and he breathed nervously. The Apostle, clearly content with Corius, said nothing and went to leave. Before he went, he let a breath wash of Corius. There was power in that, and Corius was taken back. The scales that covered his head changed colour to a obsidian black, the same colour as the Apostle's skin. Their composition changed also, from a mere organic material, to a dense black alloy which was harder than adimantium. Corius ran his fingers over his head, and almost gasped. He met the Apostle's gaze, and spoke quietly "Thank you". Whether the Apostle regarded him at all, he would probably never know as he turned to leave. Corius quickly stood up, sensing his time was done with the Apostle and he had more important duties to attend to. Corius spun around and looked for the sorcerer he was to lead to the grand machine. He quickly picked him out, the staff he clasped with both hands making him easy to spot. He strode calmly up to him said "I have been instructed to lead you to a machine the Imperium built and I found whilst scouring the main bastion." He waited for the sorcerer to respond, but his mind was still recoiling at the blessing the Apostle had bestowed on him...


----------



## deathbringer

The giants torso was covered in cables and bionic, implants ancient enough to seem to meld into his skin, they seemed natural, as if they had always been there, always glorified this mighty warriors being to new heights. Thick cables and pistons burst from his skin and he looked down at his own pure untouched form. No wonder people found him inferior as a captain, this meld of machine and man, this perfect creation.

It seemed he could read minds too, no sooner had the hatred of severus entered his mind then the mighty captain of first was reassuring him, something in the great eyes spoke to him and Lynx narrowed his own studying the captains words carefully, trying to read any hidden meanings within them.

For all he could see it was a simple show of support yet with a hint of menace. A primal warning to a young cub, dont fuck up young one, you still have much to do before you earn respect amongst the company.

Indeed amongst the rank and file troops he was popular, his conversational friendly yet firm style of command, his ability to take criticism and meld it into his plans had made him a more popular captain than his more aloof counterparts yet amongst the heirachy he was still an unknown entity, his meteoric rise to the top an act of faith by the apostle rather than a deserved act.

The first captain did not move away and he seemed to linger, expecting more converse between them and lynx continued at a measured pace picking his words carefully.

"It goes without saying brother captain. To be a terminator takes skill, yet to be a first company terminator take something more entirely. Fergus and his men will be a welcome aid to 3rd companies plans. Fear not that they will come back offended for an insult to them is an insult to first company and consequentially an insult to you."

He looked up at the terminators huge face his own face calm without mirth

"And I have much to prove before my soul departs my body."

He continued haltingly wondering if the captain would tire of there conversation, when he didn't he continued

"Yet to have been a recruit alongside our Lord means you must be ancient indeed, the stories you must be able to tell would be the stuff of legends, are any of the other captains of such prestige?"


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Lynx; For the first time since you have known the first captain you see a hint of a smile on his lips before it disappears all together. You can see in his eyes the memories of distant battles, epic battles that would dwarf even the most hellish of those that go on today across the galaxy. His eyes narrow and he stares at you as he speaks, *"I am the eldest in the Eighth beside the Apostle and Lord Shamesu, Severus came to us fifty years after we had become full Astartes, and Aresk is the youngest of us, rising to the rank of captain just as we turned our backs on the False Emperor. Other then us the eldest in the Eighth are spread throughout the different companies, Redivivus being one, many of my men and Severus's men have been around since the Crusade."*

He stops as if he is thinking on all of the brothers that he has lost and that are still around, *"The Apostle's Elite Guard, bar Zamiel, have been with him since he became Warsmith of the Eighth.....yet they cannot be counted for their souls are not thier own any longer. Mine own honor guard i have led since before the Great War....."* he pauses and you see a small hint of emotion in his face and realize it is hatred, pure and simple, *"Yet one of them fell in our last campaign to the Sons of Dorn.......he will be avenged." *Barok's voice becomes deep and menacing, more so then usual, and he fixes his gaze on you locking you in place, *"Know this Lynx, the hatred that is shared between Olympians and the bastard sons of Dorn is the greatest between any other two Legions and has been active since before the Great War. If they are on this planet and defending that,"* he points his massive finger at the huge hive fortress in the distance, *"Then I expect you to be filled with the same hatred that fills every other brother in this Grand Company who has fought them at any point in their lives, unlike our other loyalist brothers whom we simply kill, we CRUSH the Fists."*


----------



## deathbringer

"You suspect I may be found wanting when facing those whose geneseed I bar traces of, you believe some family resemblance will hold me back"

Lynx stood taller, straightening though he was still dwarfed by the giant teminator. The indignation stung yet he wanted to let Barok know this snake in the grass had fangs, fangs he would use even if it spelt his doom

"Brother an old saying, Home is where the heart is, and my heart is with lord Peturabo, with the black apostle, and with the 8th grand company of the Iron Warriors. I have been raised by them, had the treacheries of Dorn drilled into my skull from the beginning. Rejoiced in the triumphs of our victories and gnashed my teeth at our mistakes. Your hatred is blackened by the experiences of such matters yet in my youth I have only heard the tales and longed to make my own story to match it. Is that enough hatred for you brother?"

"I am a Son of Olympus, our primarch's blood runs through my veins, yet I can tell you this if Dorn's blood has any positive, any virtuous instinct at all, I will bring that instinct to bear in crushing any son of dorn that stands in our way. I have never truly embraced the chaotic practices that sweep through our legion. I fight for the iron warriors, the sons of peturabo and I will crush there enemies with as much fervour as any other brother, of that I have no doubt."

He held Barok's gaze, refusing to back down keeping his gaze, knowing the great captain could tear him limb from limb


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus turned, shifting to a one-handed grip. "Yes, a first duty. Show me to this device, it must be important if you would have a sorceror see it." The words seemed directed at both the Apostle and Corius, oddly enough. It might have been the tone, or the strange effect Luminus' helmet had on his voice.


----------



## Concrete Hero

Redivivus barked as the last of the Guardsmen fell, broken against the whithering fire of Kerias' heavy weapons the Obliterator Cult. Resounding footfalls sounded through the corridors as the Cult ponderously moved to the blast doors.

As before, the trio lifted their arms as one and blew a volcanic volley from their roaring Multi-Meltas, Melting the metal till it pooled a glowing yellow on the floor. The Cult didn't break stride as Redivivus smashed into the doorway, crackling claws renting wounds in the steel. Pangorax and Falcis followed, leaving the doorway nothing but a jagged metal maw.

Redivivus roared as he broke into the chamber, a room filled with human blood. The unquenchable thirst rose up in a tidal wave, a red veil descending. Redivivus' glowing eyes locked onto the shape of the Colonel, a jet off steam bursting from nose slits. The Obliterator felt a flash of anger and lust for blood, but dragged his attention to her guards.

With a speed that seemed absurd for his size, the Obliterator pounced into the first collection of Guardsmen, a great bellow and cloud of pink fire bursting from his maw. Redivivus lost himself on fury and fell into a blood drunken haze, slashing and crunching humans in half with vicious bites. The Cult followed and opened fire with a pair of Autocannons, vomited forth a hose of high calibre rounds.

The Obliterator stomped forwards as a human tried to crawl away, his body stained with blood. A great hiss sounded as the piston powered boot smashed the Guardsmen body like it was glass. Redivivus looked up from the gruesome pool to be greeted with a panoramic scene; the great windows allowed a massive view of the battle field, the Iron Warriors swarming like beetles... against a Daemonic force.

He had felt the Warp fluctuate during battle, though he had dedicated no thoughts to its cause. He saw the warriors of the eighth battle this other planar foe, the tolling burst of the titans enacting a heavy price on whatever fell into its path. Redivivus looked to the great hulking Titans, a strange humbleness coming over him. He admired the great war machines, their fire power and destruction dealing abilities unmatched.

Just as he had realised it, he felt the flow of the warp change, _shift_ in a indescribable way. He looked to the pulsating portal and saw its form had changed, its anger whipped up into a violent cyclone, pulling away its children that had escaped its clutches. With deep wave of force the ball silently erupted into a white oblivion, Redivivus watched the warp currents shake and tear till a literal hole in reality was ripped open. He watched silently as a figure began to emerge, a giant.

Silently from beyond the veil, their Lord Apostle walked. He looked different physically, though he still left the same mark on the Warp, only greater than the Obliterator remembered. 

The Black Apostle, his return had been so long coming it was strange to actually _see_ him. He had known the Apostle for most of his days, a millennia of war together. They never had exchanged many words, even over the thousands of years, but The Obliterator felt he shared some deep respect with the Apostle, one he valued greatly.

Redivivus' eyes glowed a powerful red as he stared out from the tower.

'*Iron Within.* '




-----------





The Trio of Obliterators stood perfectly still before the great iron doors of the Command chamber, their hulking robotic forms appearing more like statues that living entities. Redivivus was silently glad he had not left to seek privacy after the battle, as was the norm. He slowed his mind and collected his thoughts, using the time to recover and slow himself. The aftermath left him feeling an unusual calmness unimaginable on the battlefield.

The Trio had eyed the Raptor squad as they approached. Redivivus had heard their leaders summons through the Vox that filtered through his mind, as if he was tied into the Eights communication system. He felt the empathic touch of his Brothers and spoke through their own warp touches consciousnesses.

-_They stand silent and wait, though some of them shift._-

-_They are under Severus._-

-_Maximus._-

Redivivus' eyes flashed a deep red as he thought of his name, silent staring at the raptor Sergeant.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Lynx: Barok stares at you as make your statement and when you finish he says, *"A bold statement Lynx. Can you be so certain that you are willing to make that jump once you are at the precipice? We were all there once..." *he he spreads his massive arms wide to encompass all those within the room, you look around and see the other two captains, Severus and Aresk, the Apostle's Elite Gaurd and the Apostle himself still staring out at the fortress, *"I do not doubt your fervor child, but ones resolve can only truly be tested when it is pushed to its ultimate limit." *


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus scowled as the screens he had been watching all blacked out, 'Probably a generator malfunction' he thought as he turned to the remainder of his squad and ordered them out of the room.
As they rounded a corner he saw that the roof had collapsed and sunlight was sining in.
"Lets see how the others have done outside shall we?" he remarked as he gunned his jump pack and rose through the roof onto a small ledge overlooking the field outside, strangely it was completley silent.

As he looked for the reason for the lack of sound, Maximus gasped as he saw a mighty Demon Prince standing among his brothers...The Apostle had returned and he had been unaware of it!
He raised his sword in salute then jumped from the ledge, landing where they had left their bikes they found Cadoras who had stayed back to guard them.

Mounting his bike he felt a strange compulsion to meet with others outside of the base's Observation deck.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


They arrived at the Observation deck to find three Obliterators already there, Redivivus, he had never, to his memory, fought alongside Redivivus apart from of course the seige of Terra.
Noticing that Redivivus was scrutinising him Maximus said "Greetings Brother, I am curious, do you recognise the Apostle's weapon?"


----------



## deathbringer

Lynx looked into Barok's eyes, eyes that had killed those they had called brothers and suddenly he was looking past him... out of the window, through all of them, through all the veterans and into the fortress in the distance. Power.... destiny lay within them, he could feel it

The words came without bidding said in a tone, distant far away mental words cutting through the sudden silence

"That is what segregates me from you, from all of you, that moment of anguish, the segregation and the realisation that it was unfair, that you were unappreicated and undervalued by the man you strived to serve. That moment when everything changed, when brothers became enemies, when you cut down a man that in another century, another time could have indeed been you."

"Until I have killed a fist, killed a man that by blood" he gave a hollow laugh "is my brother, stared into his eyes and cut him down. Until that moment that I show you all that Dorn's lot can go fuck themselves like the bunch of bastards they are, until that moment, I'm not a captain, not a member of this group. Just another marine, another warrior with something to prove, only the same by the rank before our name."

He gave a short bitter smile

"I haven't been to the brink yet, haven't quite passed the test"

His smile was taught but he met Barok's gaze new steel in his eyes
"but I will be ready for it when comes... I will crush the fist"


----------



## Euphrati

The woman had stopped struggling, the pain and terror sending her mind into a near catatonic state as her trembling hands traced bloody lines down Severus’s forearm. The soft skin on her face was gone, draped neatly across the surface of Shattersoul in mock parody to the oath papers that had once fluttered there millenniums ago. Severus considered the words of his sergeant; an amused snarl curled his lips at the loathing in Corius’ voice for the Raptor, Perciuos. 

Severus was about to respond to the terminator sergeant when there was a sudden change in the warp. Severus spun towards the massive poly-crysteel viewing window, walking slowly towards the expanse with the woman still dangling in his grip. Far below, amid the detritus of battle, a tear in reality pulsed. Daemons were being sucked into the rent; Severus could feel their substance being unmade to forge something new yet old all at once. Arcs of dreamstuff licked around the growing orb, casting off unnatural shadows that were laced with the very essence of the Sea of Souls. Severus basked in the glow from the return of his Warsmith, the warp that ran through his very veins resonating in the backwash of power as the Black Apostle stepped between the veils of real space and the warp. He turned the semi-conscious woman so that her lidless gaze fell upon the deamon prince,

‘Behold your doom, corpse-worshiper, and know that your failure shall echo through all of eternity as your soul nourishes His return.’

A throat, raw from prolonged screams of agony, gave voice to one last terrifying shriek before the woman’s brain melted within her skull and her heart exploded from a sight no mortal was ever meant to view. Severus simply dropped the corpse, discarding it without thought as he gazed out upon the changes that had shaped the Black Apostle since he had last walked amongst them. The fine silver veins that traced his flesh pulsed with inner power with each beat of his black hearts, the mark of favour that graced the form of the Prince himself.

_Mortal emotions had long been lost to Severus and yet he could not deny beholding the re-birth of the Prince of the Eighth stirred something buried within the depths of his soul. _

Slowly, his body unaccustomed to the movement, Severus sank to a knee before the dark glory of his liege. His bloodstained arms spread wide with palms up and chest bared to the moment,

‘For you, my Warsmith. My exalted Brother,’

His voice was no more than a hushed whisper,

‘_All of this_… for you.’

--

_The Mongrel lives._

Severus did not even attempt to conceal his disgust at the continued existence of the cur of Dorn though he gave a vile smirk at the obvious discomfort of his fellow captain. Turning his back on the half-breed; Severus let his gaze sweep the room as he paced along, his steel-dark eye drawn undeniably to the Black Apostle who stood within their midst seemingly unaware of the effect his very presence had upon the members of the Eighth. 

Visible beyond them all, spires thrust skyward like a jagged claw, lay the primary fortress of the planet’s defenses.

‘I shall tear the very foundation from the earth with my bare hands if you so bid of me,’

Severus could feel the overbleed of power that swirled about the daemon prince, his bionic eye pulsed with the brilliance of a new-borne star as he stopped within casual distance of the Warsmith, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder,

‘I have felt your absence like a festering wound, Vilhelm. It is good to have you back with us.’


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[here is the update lady and gents, hope it is to your liking]

Lynx; As you finish your vow to Barok the captain of the First actually smiles, and it is not a warming smile, rather it actually sends chills down your spine. Before you can answer back the Apostle's sweet voice whisps into all of your ears, *"Shamesu, Barok, Aresk, Lynx, while I do enjoy being among you all again....."* he stops and stares at you Lynx, his black orbs with tiny silver pupils boring into your soul, *"And some of you for the first time......I sadly ask you to leave us now and ready yourselves for the preperations that we must undertake for the coming battle." *With that he turns his head back and towards Severus and they begin speaking with him.

You follow everyone out and see a raptor sergeant from the Second standing outside waiting for his audience. Do you feel pity for him? Do you wonder why he is outside waiting to speak with the Apostle and apparently his own captain Severus? Either way you and Barok walk out and as the mighty doors close behind all of you Shamesu and Aresk go their seperate ways while Barok turns to you and says, *"Come with me child, you are to meet your new Terminator sergeant."* The two of you make your way to the huge area that had been the barracks for the gaurdsmen that had protected this place and see the members of the 1st readying themselves. 

Ahead of you as you follow Barok you can feel the warriors of the First watching you, some even judging you without even saying a word, how does that feel? Barok stops in front of a man that is almost as massive as him and who is training with a grizzled veteran who happened to be much smaller. They stop as Barok raises his massive hand and the veteran nods to the massive Astartes and then at his captain before staring at you and leaving you three alone. *"Lynx, this is Captain Fergus, Fergus this is Captain Lynx, Captain of the Third."*

As Fergus grabs a towel and wipes his bare chest and face down and makes his way to greet you you realize how intimidating he could be. He is massive, about an inch shorter then Barok who towers over you, and easily just as wide and maybe a bit thicker if that is even possible, *"Greetings Captain, I have heard much about the mongrel captain of the Third."* How do you react to this statement? Either way you answer Fergus smiles and Barok continues, *"You will be attached to the Third until they are capable of filling their terminator suits with adept individuals. Ready your men and go back with the captain to where the Third is mustering, I expect to hear nothing but good news."* As he finishes Barok nods at you both and leaves. Fergus vox's his men and when they are all in their armor and ready to leave you all head to the back end of the bastion that is below the observation area which is where the Third is mustering and readying themselves. Your command retinue greets you and hesitantly stares at Fergus and his men. How do they react? What do you say? This should be an interesting meeting for both sides, how does your squad react to the warriors of the First? I will respond for Fergus.

Zamiel: You watch as the others leave you, the Elite Gaurd, the Apostle and Severus alone in the room. You cannot quite hear what they are saying to each other but you can feel the Apostle's emotions somewhat and can tell he is enjoying the conversation with Severus greatly. Suddenly you feel like a shackle is being lifted off of your mind, and while you still feel as though you cannot move your mind is suddenly brought into the Apostle's as he shows you his plans for the coming siege. He shows you that he knows that Emperor's finest will be there, and that most likely, they are already present and waiting for us. While he encourages you to kill and kill he also wants you to show that you have control, over not just your new body but also your mind and thoughts even though he is still a part of you now. He shows you that your most hated enemy, the Fists, will most likely be there waiting for us, and that he expects you to kill as many as possible and show them the true power of the Iron Warriors.

Out of all of this you finally realize how much he expects from you, how does this make you feel? 

Severus: The Apostle orders the others out of the room so that you and him may speak together in private, yet still not just the two of you seeing as how the Elite Gaurd still dot the edges of the room. As the doors close he looks down at you and a smile creeps across his face, *"Indeed brother, it feels wonderful to finally be back among you, the Warp can get rather.......tiresome.....it gets annoying having to speak with others through a damned portal." *he chuckles a bit and you see his forked tongue whip out quickly as tiny bits of flame puff out of his mouth. 

*"And you will have the opportunity to tear down that fortress soon enough."* he stares at you, *"It has been too long brother, talk to me."* You are a bit taken back but know that he wants to talk, maybe because he has not done this in a long time but also because you two have not spoken since his imprisonment, yet you can't help but shake the feeling that he knows something. Tell him about you, the Second, how you feel about the men of the Eighth, maybe even about how you feel about Lynx, it is your choice. Now is the time to talk to him about whatever you want, why you are here and so on? Whatever nagging questions Severus might have now is the time to ask them.

Maximus: As you still wait outside the doors open and all the captains plus Shamesu and minus Severus walk out and go thier seperate ways. Yet one remains and as you turn back towards the closing doors you almost jump realizing he is staring right at you, it is Aresk, the captain of the Fourth. His yellow eyes do not blink, his hard features and long black hair framing them almost perfectly, he reminds you of Perturabo himself, indeed they look very much alike....or at some point did, Perturabo now being a daemon primarch. 

His armor is pristine and clean, his chainmail cape draping across his left shoulder and back, his helm hanging at his hip. He approaches you and you can't help but wonder what he wants with you, suddenly he speaks, his voice harsh and sharp, _"Maximus, I have heard much about you. Your abilities as a Raptor are intriguing in a Legion such as ours, yet the Eighth, and the Apostle himself, use many different weapons and methods our other brothers do not. This is what makes us so successful where others are not, you know, is not our Empire growing with each system we conquer? This world and its system are just one more building block of the Eighth's kingdom, our blazing path towards Terra herself, the people we conquer praising us saviours from the Imperium's shackles."_ 

Answer him if you wish or remain silent for he will contine, _"I have heard of what transpired between you and the Terminator Corius, Severus spoke of it to me when we were meeting with the Apostle. While it is insubordination I believe I have a way out of punishment for you, I am in need of another Raptor squad, primarily one as experienced as you. Even though you have lost a lot of your men recently I believe that is because Severus and his company's tactics do not favor one's such as you......"_ you realize what Aresk is implying, he wants you in his company, and from the sounds of it the Apostle and Severus are going to punish you for what you did to Corius, this may be your only way out, _"While my company does favor those with methods and abilities such as yours. If you wish I will wait with you and tell the Apostle and Severus that you are to move to my company, I tell you you will be much better off, I will take care of you brother."_ Answer him, and afterwards speak with him if you want.

Redivivus: You watch as the others leave the Apostle's new command room, Barok and Lynx heading off together, Shamesu heading downwards in one of the massive cargo elevators and Aresk stopping and speaking with Maximus. You hear everything that transpires and try and think about what Aresk could be doing, you have known of him for many many years and know that he is up to something yet can't quite figure it out. You are brought back to the feeling of Lord Shamesu as he had passed you and your brothers by, his mind seemed......troubled, you cannot remember the last time Lord Shamesu had ever given off any other feeling but power, confidence, wisdom. Something truly must be wrong for his mind to be such dark places, yet maybe he is thinking on the past, the beginning of the Great War. 

As your mind if brought to such a conclusion visions of your own past flash through your mind, what are they? What do they mean to you? Is anyone important in them? And if so why?

Kerias: You still are outside gaurding the Command Center with the other sergeant, Eisen, and he does not speak to you. He looks as though his mind is in other places, but this job is going to get tiring really quick if you do not start up a conversation, speak with him, because as you do information recently released from the Command Center floods over your eyes and you take it all in. You read about the influx of daemons that had happened while you were within the bastion, yet none of the information tells you why they had appeared and then disappeard so quickly. 

It is strange yet the battle plans for attacking the fortress soon come up and you both listen and watch as the plans flood your system. The Third is going to be going up the middle this time, interesting, they will still provide support to the other companies but for whatever reason a strong detachment of a few of them will be going up the middle and you are ordered to provide support....away from most of your company. You wonder if both Barok and Severus will be angered by this news and figure that they already know, but most certainly Aresk will be angered at being on support duties.

Speak with Eisen, or if you want talk with your men, sorry for the shit update but you guys havent really progressed that far.

Eisen: You are still on gaurd duty with the Havoc sergeant Kerias. Do you wonder why you are still stuck here when it is obvious that the rest of the Eighth is readying itself for the coming siege? As you think the battle plans for the coming siege come on over the vox and you listen carefully, the Third will have a small detachment that will be going up the middle while the rest of them spread out with the Fourth and aide in the support of both the First and Second companies. You do not really understand why the Third would be given such an honor, they are made for support, yet you know that you are still young and cannot fathom the reasons for the Apostle's choices. 

Yet you are still curious, speak with Kerias on these matters for you know he is older and would have better insight.

Corius: You find Luminus and take him to the room where the Generator is and stop right inside and let him explore for a bit. Tell him about your experiences in here, absolutely everything including the warp wave that you had seen once the machine was turned on, tell him of the sign of the Inquisition that you had seen and simply converse with him on what you might think it is. [This is a warning, I did not say that Corius was blessed as the Apostle returned with newer skin and the metallic blood in his veins. As of now he still has the new skin but the veins in his body do not flow with the blood of the Apostle, if you wish for something like that you need to PM me first or allow me to do it.]

Luminus: Corius finds you and you two make your way to the room with the Generator in it. As you enter you can feel the changes that it has wrought on the warp and you can see that it is acting to stop something from working because of the nulling affect that it has. As you explore the room and find holy signs and sigils from the Inquisition that have been defiled and you listen to Corius's story you have your hunch on what it is made to stop. But it is after he is done speaking that it hits you what this was made to stop, and you make the connection between the huge sigils you had seen while on your ship and this machine, do not tell Corius what the machine's purpose is. Make a vox request to meet with the Apostle immediately and wait patiently for an answer (I will answer you) so while you wait try and get to know Corius better.

Pavor: You are sitting in the tank depot that has been overrun with Iron Warriors and techmarines that are fixing their war machines and other dreadnoughts like you. Yet unlike loyalist dreadnoughts you are chained to the floor to keep you from loosing your mind and killing brothers who do not need to be killed, you had long given up on trying to break loose, knowing that you cannot, but the sea of madness still clouds your brain and keeps you from speaking or thinking straight.

Suddenly your sea of emotions that cloud your brain seems to calm and you can see again and the sight that you see first causes you to be humbled immediately. Shamesu stands before you, his dreadnought body easily twice the size of yours, and the weapons systems that are connected to him not only full of mechanical death but pulsing with the power of the warp. His eyes are covered by a burning ice blue fire that fills each eye slit in his helm, and they pierce into your soul and calm it, something that you have not felt in a very long time. 

He stares at you for a long time before speaking, *"Pavor Man-Flayer, you have been sentenced to die in our next battle because of your killing of Prothor Ironfist and his men."* Your mind fills with emotions, are they sadness at the only reason that your mind has been made clear again is to simply tell you this? Anger? Relief? Either way Shamesu continues, *"You will be accompanying me on the battlefield at that time."* Great, not only will you die but you will also be able to feel it and recognize it, *"Yet for some reason I have faith in you......in your abilities. Not many of our brothers who are interred are strong enough to fight of madness Pavor, you being one of them, but unlike them I do not think it is because you are weak, simply because you are lost. You will be released from your shackles soon and will accompany me to watch the Eighth as it readies itself, I am going to bring you back from the brink brother." *With that he leaves and the madness that you expect to fill your mind again does not return, your mind is still clear. How does this new information/feeling make you feel? What do you think? In fact how does it actually feel to be able to think clearly again?


----------



## deathbringer

"And some of you for the first time...." Those silver pinpricks of light in the endless darkness of chaos, his voice caught, his larynx trembling and he bowed his head caught breathless. Barok's chilling gaze was nothing, nothing compared to the thrillingly shameful of the apostle's gaze. His heart fluttered like a school girl's skirts in sharp breeze and he retired quickly, his elation dampened only by the grim hand of Barok which steered him away.

"Come with me child, you are to meet your new Terminator sergeant." 

He followed mind elsewhere, still lingering within the apostle's gaze as they wound there way through the towers, the wreckage and the mangled and hacked corpses in silence.

Then men of the first eyed him with an insolent air, seeing not only a captain but a bastard crossbreed and he barely supressed a snarl of distaste. He was to be judged like this until they clashed once more with the Sons of Dorn, would it be now? would now be the chance he needed, the chance to kill to prove himself worthy. Soon the elders would accept him and understand him when he brought back a head, bought back the head and tossed it infront of them, claimed his right to anguish.

"Lynx, this is Captain Fergus, Fergus this is Captain Lynx, Captain of the Third."

His eyes flicked up to another giant above him, bear chested, pectorals the size of diner plates, abdominals the size of bolter clips framed by two massive biceps. A giant barely eclipsed by Barok in height, together they blocked out the sun, Barok the taller, Fergus the broader. His armour lay behind him and Lynx knew that once he adorned it, he would indeed be a terrifying sight. Menacing in stature his long square jaw and sea green eyes somehow added a calm air of majesty. Where Barok was chaotic, a monster a killing machine, Fergus had the stature and scars of the warrior, the features of an adonis and the aura of a king. A tempest and a dam side by side they stood, two forces equal and opposite balancing eachother.

The long jet black hair was tied back in a pony tail yet now he released it and it cascaded, a river of ebony over his back. The sea green eyes fell upon him ,emerald eyes winked at him, holding him, judging him, not the piercing stare of the apostle that stripped him naked and appraised him. Nor the haunting stare of Barok that crushed him, forced him to blurt out his words, nay these stones weighed him up, measured him and were left unfufilled. Fergus wanted to know more, words like the rumble of thunder erupted from a strong mouth, which spat the words out carefully.

"Greetings Captain, I have heard much about the mongrel captain of the Third."

Lynx held out a hand and the meaty fingers encased it

"Greetings captain, every dog has it's day," he riposted solemnly. the meaty fingers tightened crushing his fragile palm, yet Lynx steeled his reserves and did not wince. The terminator smiled a full mouth, a single tooth missing on the right blossomed briefly into view as he released him before turning to Barok.


"You will be attached to the Third until they are capable of filling their terminator suits with adept individuals. Ready your men and go back with the captain to where the Third is mustering, I expect to hear nothing but good news."

The dam did not respond no signal, the captain spoke and Fergus followed, speaking briefly into the vox before moving away and Lynx lingered. The grizzled veteran lingered too, carefully tracing the air with his sword, drawing his own Lynx followed him, matching the movements, removing the flourishes and neatening the odd line, adjusting it to his own. Each move, each cut and slash he followed, adjusting his grip, building the pace trying to match the grizzled veteran whose sword was now a blur of inter-combined weaves. Lynx matched him falling further and further behind as he repeated the odd weave, desperate to master it, occasionally changing his grip, to better match the elder warriors skill with the blade.

Then Fergus was their, a terrifying giant in terminator armour, his helm hanging at his waist alongside the shoulder plates of 9 fists,each impaled upon a spike, the great terminator's trophies from throughout the ages. It was indeed true, the elders only wished to crush the fist. Other trinkets dangled off him, an ork head and a silvery gold symbol

Other terminators stood behind him and Lynx sheathed his sword, bowing his head in deference as Fergus introduced each member

"You valour honours me, for my company and I still have much to prove, I more than most" he added half to himself half to the terminators.

Thus he turned away, pushing onwards back towards the headquarters of third and he tapped his vox earpiece

"Jag speak to me"

"Sir?"

"I want the company ready and assembled for a briefing within 10 minutes of when i get back, and I want weapons sitting together, heavy bolter squads together, lascannons together, you know the drill. Also I want all of you ready to give me a status report the moment I get back"

"Lynx, we are going up the middle and we dont have an assault company."

"I've sorted it."


"Who?"

"You'll see just be ready for when i come back"

They strolled in silence the rumble of the terminators footsteps behind him towards the observation deck and he smiled as he saw the frantic preperations of third, members of his company rushing back and forth with ammunition, all calling out to him as he passed, there eyes bulging in there heads as they looked at the terminators behind him, taking in the trophies and the badges upon there shoulders with awestruck gazes

Then the honour guard were there ahead of him, 6 figures tall and slender, the banner furled at Cheetah's side.Their eyes did not bulge, they looked at the lumbering giants with wary eyes, confused eyes, eyes that could not quite comprehend.

They stood at an impasse 5 meters apart watching the terminators as lynx stood between them a small grin on his face at the confusion

"Captain Fergus, meet my honour guard, the" he gave a grim smile "the slightly gormless pride of 3rd company" Sabre gave a small snarl of annoyance his physique straightening eyes narrowing as they flicked over each terminator

"I give you my Second in command, Sabre. Jag," The piercing eyes of the two veterans swept over the terminators, with respect, though Lynx was sure he saw questions and a hint of pride in Jag's eye.

Lion, Leo and my banner bearer Cheetah."

There was silence for a second the odd flurry of awkward achknowledgement passing through the group. The silence stretched suddenly broken by Leo and the honour guard turned in surprise as he muttered

"i've cracked it" he blushed his eyes upon Fergus

"I apologise, captain. I have been working hard upon the terminator suits of prothor ironfist. All i can say is the accursed Man-flayer did indeed do a good job on them. however I realsied upon seeing your suit. I realised the detail i was missing."

"How many did we loose in the end?" 

lion spoke up, his face weary and solemn, lined with anguish

"24, not including Zamiel in his honour guard. So we are indeed shorthanded, even with the" he gave a respectful bow to the terminators "tremendous boon of the 3rd of the 1st"

Lynx shook his head, solemnly

"We will manage, the black apostle, is giving us the lead in this assault, we will not fail him, I will not allow us to fail, and we will not go over the 15 again"

He saw Fergus give him a piercing look

"Until today, the third have never lost more than 15 men in a single assault, and until the death of Prothor at the hand of our own man we have never lost a terminator. I intend to keep up the record of never loosing a terminator to the enemy. Will you join us at the briefing Captain Fergus? The whole company is assembled, we intend to honour the memory of Prothor iron fist and swear oaths to reak his vengeance upon our enemies in the next battle. Today we go through the middle and you shall see the third as you have never seen her before. Alive and deadly, with your help, we will crush the fists."


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel peered across the room and saw the Apostle conversing with another Iron Warrior, Severus. Zamiel surmised that must have been the Apostle's knowledge because he had not known that marine, nor would he have cared enough to learn his name. He could sense the Apostle's emotions, he was enjoying this conversation but the why eluded Zamiel.

Suddenly he felt as though a great weight lifted from his mind as it joined with the Apostle's. He saw them, the Imperial Fists. The hated ones, despised above all others to Zamiel and his kin. In truth Zamiel had never hated them more then others, all the Emperor's false angels were equally inferior to him. The others took the Fists mastery of siege warfare as an insult but Zamiel wasn't one for siege warfare and had never felt any extra hate for the Imperial Fists beyond being the False Emperor's slaves and lapdogs. Still he raged at their presence and made a vow that he would tear the head from their leader and cast his soul into the Warp.

It hit Zamiel then. The Apostle was showing him this to prepare him for the coming war. And a lot was expected of him, he knew his duty to protect the Apostle but he saw now that he was no mere guardian. He was his champion, and the Apostle was expecting great things from him. Zamiel's shadowy mask smirked, betraying his pride at this revelation, somebody finally understood what he wanted and what he was capable of, and he wouldn't let it go to waste. Zamiel the Exalted made a silent vow that he would not fail the Apostle, the only man here whom he respected.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius and Luminus walked calmly back to the generator. The first time, he and his squad were accompanied by by the roar of gunfire and the screams of the dying. They passed the sentry guns and butchered guardsmen, their blood still staining the floor. They walked through the corridor stained with blood. Before, Corius hadn't talked to the sorcerer, but now started to recount his story. "These corridor weren't drenched with blood before. When we busted out of the room..." Corius regarded Maximus for the briefest of instant, in a blind hatred and nothing more. "...they were just covered." And Corius went on to tell about how they had entered, and carved away at the signs of the Inquisition, and how the Bloodletters had pulled themselves out of the floor and once the machine was activated the Bloodletters seemed to disintegrate before the wave of warp energy. "We tore the outer shell off to try and find out what the machine did, but to no avail. We only activated it when we had to" Corius regarded his last statement bitterly. He had been forced to, so he had been defeated. That showed weakness. He would not do so twice. He walked over to the sign of the inquisition, and beckoned Luminus. "The markings of the Aquilla and the Omnisiah, but we couldn't understand why the symbol of the Inquisition was here. Any ideas as to what this infernal machine does?" Corius stood and looked upon this machine once again, this time, thankfully not surrounded by a hoard of murderous bloodletters...

*OCC: Yeah, so this is my formal apology, mainly to Black Apostle Vilhelm, but also to the other players as if I kept it up I would ruin this for you guys too. So yeah, I'm sorry for getting too big my boots and assuming that I could just do whatever I wanted, and for that I'm sorry. I'm more than happy to edit the post and suffer any repercussions of my actions. In future I will make sure it is ok, and won't repeat that mistake again. Again I'm sorry.*


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus listened to Corius' story with silence, though he would occasionally nod to show he was listening. The feeling in the warp was more disturbing at first, the calmness it exuded was unnatural, but this talk of daemons disappearing, that was even worse. Corius obviously regarded his failure with some regret, but Luminus didn't care. "Contact the Dark Apostle, I know what this device does." The sigils, this device, it was all connected, and clear to him now. What a magnificent, and terrible thing.

[[After the Apostle is voxed]]
"So, Corius, your 'failure' seems to grate on you. Despite the fact that you were beset by daemons, you seem to think activating this was an admission of weakness." Much of this was speculation really, but Luminus was willing to bet that Corius' bitter tone reflected this. Such men had strange ideas about their own power, and were greatly shaken by any threat to that perception.


----------



## Deus Mortis

*"Contact the Dark Apostle, I know what this device does."* Luminus' voice resonated through the room as he declared he knew what the machine did. At least that made one person on this bloody planet that did. Well, the servants of the Corpse-God knew, but they were hardly inclined to answer. Corius had assumed that the demand to contact the Apostle was made of him. Corius wasn't sure if Luminus was really a higher rank than him, but at this point, with that knowledge he possessed, he was in no state to argue. Corius didn't have a link with the Apostle, only Captains and few others were granted that honour, so he would be forced to go through Severus. It wasn't that Corius didn't want his Captain to be included in the loop, merely that he was always dubious about contacting his Captain, least he disturb something important and incur his wrath. But he had no other choice. "Sir, I'm down in the machine chamber with Luminus the sorcerer. He says he knows what the machine does. He asks to speak with the Apostle. I havve no link to our Lord, so I ask that you tell him that information" and with that Corius severed the link. He didn't really want to take much more time that was needed of his Captain. He turned back to Luminus "The Apostle will be contacted shortly, and he should speak with you soon." Then the sorcerer spoke again *"So, Corius, your 'failure' seems to grate on you. Despite the fact that you were beset by daemons, you seem to think activating this was an admission of weakness?"*

Corius ire rose within him as he regarded what the sorcerer had said. Despite he himself viewing the event as a failure, someone else saying it seemed worse. It wasn't so much that he was unable to defeat the daemons, more that the scenario he was in had made the tactic he would have usually employed was impossible. _'All because we couldn't move back'_ Corius thought, and once again he bitterly regarded the raptor sergeant Maximus. If it wasn't for him, they could have fought off the daemons, but he had to be a bastard and close the doors, all because he couldn't take his squad mates being weak. As he spiraled deeper into a blinding hatred, he realized that Luminus was still waiting for an answer. So he pushed all thoughts of that whore-son to the back of his mind, and spoke *"Yes, it was a failure. Had we been on any other form of battle field, we could have bested them. But we had been trapped in this room and slowly were being bested. Ares was almost speared on the end of a hell blade. We couldn't beat them on our own strength, so were forced to use a machine constructed by the servants of a False-Emperor and of unknown purpose and origin. We were unable to do it ourselves, and so had to gamble. It could have killed us, but we were dead anyway so we took it. We failed to defeat the daemons..."* Corius let a snarl crawl across his lips *"...but not again. Next time we will be stronger, and we will win"* He added the last part more for his own reassurance than for the benefit of the sorcerer. However, Luminus was obviously scrutinizing his words, and hence had known the bitterness behind the events that had transpired. So Corius stood and faced Luminus and waited for his next verdict of the meanings behind his words, or a simple response...


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Ok guys we have one new player in this Rp, it is heartslayer and his character is Master of the Forge Akakios and his two adepts. Welcome him into your midst and if your characters happen to meet he has been with the Eighth for a very very long time.]

Akakios: You and your adepts are currently in the Tank Depot that has been taken over by the Iron Warriors who now rush to and fro as they repair their damaged vehicles or make preparations to the machines that will aide them in digging the trenches for the coming siege. You are currently under a raised Land Raider and repairing a faulty hydraulic line that had cause it to suddenly stop in the battlefield, endangering not only the machine, but also the crew who had thankfully kept firing their weapons until the battle was over.

As you lay there, one of your other adepts is on top of the mighty machine replacing its heavey bolter with a melta gun, where the last adept is you do not know. You pick yourself up from underneath the machine to get something and see the mighty dreadnought Shamesu towering over another venerable of the Eighth and then walk away. You recognize the other dreadnought as Pavor Man-Flayer and turn back to your work, minutes after getting back under the vehicle a deep metal voice calls for you to come back out.

You do and are face to face with Lord Shamesu, he stares down at you with his burning eyes and speaks, *"Akakios, I must ask of you a favor, the dreadnought Pavor Man-Flayer needs to be released soon and told where to meet me. Once you are finished here I need you to release him from his bonds and tell him that I am at the northern end of the bastion where the Eighth will head out from and march for towards the next fortress."*He somewhat bows his head and then turns and leaves, his steps causing dust and debris to come off the ground and surrounding machines.

When you are done with the machine go and release Pavor, speak with him if you wish.

[I expect you to read what has transpired throughout the thread before this point, i know it is a lot of reading but it will get you up to speed with everyone and know where everyone is at and who everyone is.]


----------



## unxpekted22

After hearing the information come in over the Vox Eisen speaks up quickly, aiming his words at Kerias, "Why are we supporting members of the Third?"

He holds his hand to the side of his helm again in silence, then, "_Aresk_ is by _far_ the better captain!."

He holds his helmet in silence again, then makes slow but long strides with straight knees over to a piece of broken building and plops himself down on it facing kerias, "So tell me elder brother. _What_ is going on? Have I joined the Eigth during a time of change? Granted, the Black Apostle has arrived but I assumed this would make things more _interesting_ rather than _boring_"

he pauses looking to the ground letting his shoulders droop before looking back up with a yell, "I killed demons today! I can take on a better challenge than _guard_ duty. What in the warp are we guarding this from? EVERYONE'S DEAD!"

He knew next to nothing about Kerias, but as usual cared little as the only people important to him were himself, his captain, and of course the demonic leader. He wanted to be by his captain again. Things were always more exciting next to the flailing cape ends of a great, high ranking leader. Eisen felt he went unnoticed by his superiors anyway unless he placed himself directly in their sight and _asked_ for an order.

Eisen continues to sit on the rock, bolter loosely in hand and skulking in silence.

The veterans of this company obviously forgot the importance of foundation in an army. If anything they could at least admire him for his ability to take a heavy punishment of enemy rounds just so that they may not hit someone of higher importance. But seriously, when one of these arrogant asses got torn to shreds they'd be wishing there were more warriors around them like himself. 

Furthermore, he wanted to be back around his captain for the sake of their petty drama. Eisen laughed to himself sitting on the rock. A quick way to gain power indeed...drama, silly drama. 

Oh look at me I'm a better captain than youuu aaaree. Your a haaalf blooodd har har har. Ridiculous. Troubles of a celebrity life. The Black Apostle was here, his captains fought eachother, and it was his time to shine.


----------



## Masked Jackal

"Remember this Iron Warrior, and use it as a bastion of strength. You may have failed, but now your resolve can be strengthened, along with yourself. Iron must be forged after all, and purified. Think back to what hampered you, and remove it." Luminus' tone indicated some small amount of reassurance. If he played his cards right, this Corius would be a much greater asset. If he played them wrong, then Corius would hate him, and be a liability. It was small, but Luminus gained some measure of faith from this gamble. _Tzeentch, smile upon me._

"What trapped you in the room?" That was one wild card he would have to find out. Even if this was a gamble in essence, there was no reason he shouldn't rig it as much as possible to go his way.

[[Set this up with that first post, but took so long because I was debating on how to implement it. Hope it's good, and sorry for the delay.]]


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus watched the Captains leave the adjacant room wondering why Severus was not with them, noticing that one Captain...Aresk of the Fourth, he thought while noticing that Aresk looked quite similar to Peterabo before he acsended to Daemonhood.

What could he possibly want Maximus wondered as Aresk began to speak.
"Maximus, I have heard much about you. Your abilities as a Raptor are intriguing in a Legion such as ours, yet the Eighth, and the Apostle himself, use many different weapons and methods our other brothers do not. This is what makes us so successful where others are not, you know, is not our Empire growing with each system we conquer? This world and its system are just one more building block of the Eighth's kingdom, our blazing path towards Terra herself, the people we conquer praising us saviours from the Imperium's shackles." Not knowing what to say Maximus remained silent untill Aresk continued.

"I have heard of what transpired between you and the Terminator Corius, Severus spoke of it to me when we were meeting with the Apostle. While it is insubordination I believe I have a way out of punishment for you, I am in need of another Raptor squad, primarily one as experienced as you. Even though you have lost a lot of your men recently I believe that is because Severus and his company's tactics do not favor one's such as you......while my company does favor those with methods and abilities such as yours. If you wish I will wait with you and tell the Apostle and Severus that you are to move to my company, I tell you you will be much better off, I will take care of you brother." 

Maximus was taken aback by Aresk's offer, he had thought that Severus would have him executed and had prepared himself but now there was a way out...

"It would be an honour to serve you my lord, I would much prefer being under you than that..." He stopped as he realised he had almost insulted Severus in front of a Captain "Anyway..." he said quickley as he removed his left gauntlet, drawing his combat knife he drew it across his palm then reversed it and offered it and his cut hand to Aresk

"I offer you my blood and my blade as will my squad"


----------



## dark angel

_The Fist was snarling, thick strands of spittle slipping down his bloodied chin. Pavor stood several feet away from him as the refinery began to slip beneath the tide of lava, his barbed blade held in one hand. The other; his left was encased in a thick slab of ceramite which formed a knee length shield. Upon it rested the sigil of the Black Apostle over that of the Iron Warriors. The Fist similarly adorned his weaponry and shield although with the Imperial Aquila and the closed gauntlet sigil replacing those of which Pavor bore. 

‘Pavor, I know your name’ snarled the rabid Marine as his fingers slipped into a tighter embrace around his long prosperously cracking great sword. 

The Iron Warrior did not reply to him, simply he gritted his beautiful features and let his mane of black hair flutter in the wind as a giant bronze pillar collapsed several metres away into the lava, splashing orange-gold across his side. The Imperial Fist, like the Emperor incarnate in his golden armour and white robes lashed out first. The great sword hacked twice at the shield of Pavor, who returned a blow to the Marines own shield with a mighty thrust. 

No harm was dealt however and the obsidian blade slid off towards the right, opening up Pavor’s chest for a blow. If it wasn’t for a sudden tremor the slash from the Imperial Fist would have cracked through his grey-silver armour like a knife through butter. The refinery slipped further into the golden tide, sending tongues of flame licking up the pillars. Pavor had tumbled into a command centre, crushing a console beneath his bulk. Sparks enveloped him for a moment, casting a great shadow out of the entrance. 

Of the Imperial Fist, there was no sign. Pavor regained his balance as the room came to a rest at a gentle incline, held at such an angle by thick metallic struts which attached it to the remainder of the volcanic sink. The rotten tang of sulphur struck Pavor harder than a speeding Rhino. His silver laced crimson eyes closed in a tight squelch, but that was his possible outdoing. The Imperial Fist Champion swung in from nearby, blade coming in at a downwards arc. Eyes flashing open, Pavor spun with his blade raised across towards the side. 

Blades clashed together as the Fist pushed downwards and the Warrior upwards. Sparks flung in all directions as power fields meshed and obsidian touched ceramite. Both threw themselves away, the Imperial Fists tanned features furrowed into a terse grin. He was actually enjoying it. The Fist of course had no doubt that he could defeat the Bastard Son of Perturabo. How he was wrong.

‘And I know of you, Belan De’Crozi!’ Pavor finally returned with a nod of appreciation, laughing manically as he did so. Rage turned the face of De’Crozi red and he lashed out, his blade sliding along the length of Pavor’s right cheekbone. Wetly the cheek flapped open and leaked blood down the chest of Pavor, who cursed inwardly at letting the venerable Fist do such a thing. Rows of incisors were revealed and a long thick tongue licked along each one as he returned the stroke.

De’Crozi was far faster however. He hefted his shield upwards and deflected the blade towards the roof, and De’Crozi struck again. This time the great sword struck Pavor square in the gut, tearing the armour inwards and leaving a smooth incision there. The Iron Warrior roared in fury, and struck the rival Marine in the chest with his barbed shield. While it did not do any damage to the Marine within it did send De’Crozi tumbling backwards like a drunkard. 

Pavor regained his composure and threw himself back into the fray longing for revenge. The IV Legionnaire fought like it was Dorn himself against him, crimson eyes wide with anger and teeth bared. De’Crozi spun on his heel away from Pavor and threw himself through the entrance which he had came from, landing hard against the metal. Pavor Blood-Spiller stalked forwards like a hound, neck craned and his eyes hooded with sheer madness. 

‘No!’ somebody yelled further up the refinery as Pavor revealed himself, and a series of Bolt rounds stitched a ragged path towards him. He spun upwards, facing the Imperial Fist Sergeant who had opened up on him through the narrow slit in the apex of his shield. The Marine was much like De’Crozi in the way he adorned his yellow armour with a white robe and seals of purity, but he bore a pair of laurels across his bald scalp. The Champion of the Fists meanwhile was bringing himself back to his feet. 

Occupied by the enraged Sergeant, Pavor could only ignore De’Crozi. That was when the struts keeping the refinery in place shattered under the pressure. Each send a judder along the length, dislodging the Sergeant from his position and sending him rag dolling down into the lava below. Agonizingly he burned and slipped beneath the surface, his flesh sloughing away in great flakes of fat and muscle. 

There was silence for a moment as Pavor cursed the Fist and De’Crozi moaned for a fallen comrade. Pavor allowed him his moment of remembrance before he spun, even as the lava began to pool around their feet and backed away. The Company Champion rested on his knees as the refinery sank deeper before rising and leaping forwards, discarding his shield like a broken toy. In a two handed grip, he struck Pavor’s exposed vambraces. 

‘I did not kill your Brother, Son of Dorn!’ Pavor yelled over the sound of breaking metal, blocking each blow even as it began to eat into his armour. 

Pavor kicked twice and turned, charging for the last remaining bridge onto the rim of the volcano. He could heard the sounds of charging footsteps and panting behind him; knowing that De’Crozi longed for nothing more than his head. He could see the strands of metal begin to strain under the pressure, and knew that these last few moments were life or death for him. He made sure it was the former, and leapt forth onto the bridge at the last moment before it snapped. Another leap set him firmly on the red rock of the volcano’s ridge and he collapsed in delight. 

That was until a punch struck him in the back. He tumbled onto his front, and spun around. Standing above him was a exhausted De’Crozi, a small gladius held in one hand with his other curled into a fist. The blade descended into Pavor’s shoulder, locking him against the ground and destroying his abilities to hold his shield. With a curse the Iron Warrior retorted the blow, hitting De’Crozi in the chest and warm sanguine fluid slipped free.

Discarding his blade for a moment, Pavor ripped the gladius free and tossed it away before pulling himself up with his obsidian weapon back in hand. De’Crozi, his face curled in anger and pain was now lying on the ground, hands at his side and his body angled upwards. Pavor pushed his blade into the exposed throat of the Imperial Fist, hewing flesh but stopped when a small trickle of blood slid free.

‘Son of Dorn, tell your false Emperor I am coming for him’ was the last thing that De’Crozi heard before the blade slipped further in, severing the handsome head with a wet hiss. Below, the Fourth of Aresk rose their weapons in salutation before continuing the slaughter of the Fists. Just one of many…._

The Dreadnaught awoke from his lucid dream, roaring to himself like a beast of old. His obsidian blade and shield had been entombed with him; with both resting either side of his shriveled body. He was no longer Blood-Spiller however. The Imperial Fist Champion had been the first of the skins which he had took, split away from the flesh and bones by Pavor himself. It was certainly not the last. Now chains were thrown over his form, each buckled to the ground by sections larger than a mans skull. 

Before him stood mighty and ancient Shamesu. Pavor did not care for introductions. He knew of Shamesu of the Eighth and the tales of him standing side by side with the once-mortal Vilhelm. He was a God in iron, bound to live amongst men until death overcame him. Far larger than Pavor, the younger Dreadnaught had no doubt that Shamesu could destroy him with a mere twist of his mechanical limbs. No madness swam within his mind, and Pavor remembered his days as Champion. As Squad Liege. As perfection.

When Shamesu told Pavor that he was to die, his hearts thumped strongly. He longed for death and now he was to be gifted with it. He was lonely without his former body. He missed the sensations, his charming appearance. He would never be gifted with such a thing again and thus the only salvation was in the fires of war. The chains around him rustled as he stirred, grey features perking in delight. Something he had not felt in a long time…

The prospect of death was a warm emitting thing. But why was he to die? Prothor Ironfist was an unknown name too him, had he lost his mind in a crazed lapse and laid harm to a Brother? Why could it not have been the cur Zamiel? The taker of his prize! Pavor would slaughter that whore born bastard if he could; it was clear he had only been elevated to his position for some nefarious reason of Vilhelm. A tear of gore slipped down the cheek of Pavor. All gone. His chances all destroyed, he was far too slow to defeat such a being in his chassis. 

All he needed was his form of old! Pavor continued to listen to Shamesu as his mind was washed free of any crazed thoughts. He was too march side by side with legendary Shamesu! Long deprived eyes flashed and he felt a close sensation too disbelief. Shamesu left when he had finished, and Pavor fell into deep thought. His sense of thought returned to what it had once been, but yet he still lingered for the returning of his form and the death of Zamiel. Was he wrong in wanting such things? He had embraced his sarcophagus when it had been gifted, but now it was tiresome. 

He threw back his chassis form and roared loudly, causing several nearby Iron Warriors to halt and give him distasting looks. War would come soon. And war was what he did best….


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius almost flew into a rage for Lumminus' question, but he wasn't to know. How could he? He couldn't properly know about the insubordinate cur that was Maximus. "You know that all the doors in a bastion can be controlled from the "control room"? And Severus sent That whore-son Maximus up to there. And as you can see, the doors had to be blown open. The bastard closed the doors on us, as we were being assailed by Daemons. I swear to the Dark Gods, I will rend his head!" Corius spat the last words with a millennium of hate that he had built up over a thousand conquests and several defeats. He meant every word of it. Nothing would stay his wrath, no man living or dead and no power on this world or the next could stop him from wreaking bloody vengeance...


----------



## heartslayer

Akakios pulled himself out from under the land raider he was working on to pick up a different attachment for his servo arm, he looked up to spot the mighty dreadnought Lord Shamesu standing over another venerable Dreadnought of the eighth grand company who had been chained up, he recognised this towering behemoth as Pavor Man-Flayer. He was curious as to what Shamesu had said to him, but pushed those thoughts from his mind and went back to work on the land raiders Hydraulics he ha been working on, shortly after getting back to work he heard the cold metal tones of his lord Shamesu calling him out from under the Land Raider, as he stood in front of the towering behemoth that was Shamesu his vox caster kicked into action, "yes my lord" Shamesu responded "Akakios, I must ask of you a favor, the dreadnought Pavor Man-Flayer needs to be released soon and told where to meet me. Once you are finished here I need you to release him from his bonds and tell him that I am at the northern end of the bastion where the Eighth will head out from and march for towards the next fortress.", before Akakios could respond to his lord, Shamesu bowed and walked away, Akakios swiftly set back to finishing the work on the Land Raider. 

Having repaired the Land Raider he called Alcaeous and Apollo over to help him release the hulking monster that was Pavor Man-Flayer. Akakios said nothing to the Dreadnought as he undone the chains restraining him, other than to tell him where to meet their lord Shamesu


----------



## Euphrati

The voice that seeped from the daemon prince’s throat was thick like clotting blood, tendrils of vapour coiling about each word. Severus smiled inwardly as the rest of those gathered were sent away, baring the shadow-silent forms of Vilhelm’s guards rimming the room. Severus had noted the choice the Black Apostle had made in his rebirth and gave a knowing smile. The daemon-host had been unpredictable, reckless in its assaults. Now, bound like a trained dog to its master, it was a tool to be used until the time came to discard it.

_I doubt it even knows the fate that awaits it. Pathetic fool._

The thought curled about Severus’ mind in a cloyingly delicious way before he dismissed any thought of the soulless beast, turning his head slightly to examine the daemon prince at his side. Thought the Warsmith’s form had been altered, he still yearned for a taste of the brotherhood he had shared for so many thousands of years and Severus could nearly taste the need that rolled off the Black Apostle for information of the time he had been trapped within the warp.

It was a strangely personal moment and the Captain of the Second wet his lips with a silver-veined tongue as he gathered his thoughts before speaking; 

‘The galaxy has changed, my brother,’

Severus’ low, growling voice was like the thunder of distant artillery,

‘It is a feeble, rotting husk of the triumph we built through blood and sacrifice. A thousand times a thousand souls live and die under the lies and deceit that have been spun so tightly around their existences that they can barely be called human anymore. They know nothing of us, of the true past and those glorious days of blood and fire …and yet the last words that their pathetic little lives shall hear are, Glory to the Eighth!’

Severus’ storm-grey eye traced the shadowy edge of the far off bastion with calculated loathing, his bionic implant glowing balefully as it fed distances, angles, and a myriad of other data into his altered brain. The smile that graced Severus’ face was anything but comforting as he turned away from the crysteel wall to fully face the blessed being by his side, his armour’s joints growling slightly with the movement,

‘In the time you have been lost to us, brother, there have been many battles but few were truly worthy of the name. The xenos species that call themselves the Tau have laid claim to worlds within this sector. We have skirmished with their forces numerous occasions; their reliance upon technology is their biggest weakness for their machines are as soulless as their owners. Their leaders have learned to avoid our fleet after their initial losses proved too great for their spineless troops to stomach. They pose us no true threat,’

Severus paused to shift his weight back as he turned back to the expanse of crysteel, eye half-lidded as he recalled the battles that led the Eighth to where he stood now,

‘You would have relished the Dorux cluster, Vilhelm. It lies farther east of here, nestled deeper within the Ultima sector and under the behest of the Ultramarines. It seems the illustrious Guilliman pledged his legion in defense of the world in some dusty tome of record as a small force was stationed within the main capital. They never knew we were coming due to a fortunate solar storm from the nearby twin suns. We breached their battlements in less than a day’s time and I met their commander upon the inner battlements. His skill with a blade was… impressive, yet nothing compared to the likes of Fulgrim’s sons,’

His right leg flexed unconsciously, memories of the Ultramarine’s blade sliding into his hip joint triggering the muscles to twitch and contract. The wound had healed months ago; fine silver wires, the blessed touch of chaos, had replaced the torn flesh under his repaired armour,

‘It was… pleasurable to watch the light fade from his eyes as I strangled his very life from his wretched body within sight of his dying men,’

The relish in Severus’ voice was unmistakable, his ceramite-shod fingers reaching out to cup the image of the distant Imperial works in mock echo of the slain Ultramarine. He held the stance for a heartbeat before letting them drop to his sides again, hands clenched into iron-hard fists. For a long moment he was silent, hate burning hard in his brutal features,

‘Berossus is _dead_, Vilhelm, slain by that Half-Blooded mongrel named Honsou,’

Severus turned his head slightly to look upon the towering daemon prince at his side. He held no love for the other warsmiths, but the implications of what had happened on Medrengard rippled across the entire galaxy,

‘He has massed a following of outcasts. The remnants of Berossos’ men, who swore allegiance to him when they saw their master defeated, and those he won loyalty over at the last Harvest of Skulls. I have heard whispers that the plans to march upon the realms of Ultramar itself! Have we fallen so far that a mongrel with the blood of Dorn has greater conquests than the true sons of Perturabo?’

Severus’ bionic eye gleamed with an inner fire that mirrored his hate,

‘Even the Eighth has sullied our ranks with such polluted blood, and a captain no less! He is not one of us, brother, and he never will be. He never stood by the primarch as he beheaded the xenos leader on the blood-stained walls of that reptilian race’s empire, what did the chroniclers call them? The Vis’sur? He was not there the day our gene-sire raised you into his inner circle,’

Severus’ voice dropped to a low, whispered, growl of ancient pain and his eye grew distant as if seeing another time,

‘He was not… *There*.’

There was a long period of weighted silence, even the constant murmur from the daemon-bound shield secured across Severus’ broad back faded into nothingness. In the distance, the blaring roar of a titan sounded and the moment shattered into eternity. Severus looked up to meet the fathomless depths of the Black Apostle’s eyes,

‘_Why _are we here, my Warsmith… my brother. What significance does this forgotten planet hold for the glory of the Eighth? What does it hold for... you?’


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[ok here it is, sorry for the long wait everyone]

Maximus: You see a huge smile pierce Aresk's features, yet somehow it fails to make you feel any better, and he slaps you across the back before saying, *"Good, I am glad to hear it. I will wait here with you until you are called in by the Apostle,"*he pauses and mumbles something into the vox before continuing, *"Tell me Maximus, I have heard the sit rep for the battle and what had happened to most of the companies during the assault so I know somewhat where you and your men were during the battle but I would like to know the details. Tell me what happened to you and your men, that way I can get a better grasp on how to start your training and who to fill your squad up with when it comes time to replace your empty spaces."*

You shift your weight slightly, it would seem Aresk is precise and to the point when regarding how many men you lost and that they will be "replaced" soon. Does this make you feel as though he does not care that your friends, your brothers, were lost? Does this apathy anger you, or make you feel some other way? Whatever you feel recount the battle and what happened, he has mentioned that he knew what happened with Corius so do you try and sweeten the story up and lie a little to get him on your side or simply tell the truth? Just as you finish your tale you will see Corius along with a Sorcerer you do not know enter and wait a little ways away from you. As the tensions gets to be almost too much to bare you see the obliterator return with a Thousand Sons sorcerer behind him leading a small cadre of marines who carry an obsidian coffin. They enter the Apostle's chamber and the doors close behind them. How do you react to them being here?

Eisen: As you sit there with Kerias and watch the Command Center you get a call over the vox, it is your captain Aresk and he has a new task for you, *"Eisen, get over to the Northern Tower where the Fourth is mustering, I want you to get what Raptors have either lost most of their squads or are the only ones left and have them ready for inspection by the time I get there, make it quick."* and with that his voice is gone. You have a purpose now, albeit one that is a little unnerving, but something that is better then sitting on gaurd duty with a veteran who speaks few words.

As you make your way through the bastion towards the Northern Tower you are allowed a view of the siege to come, already huge plows and tractors are making the first line and the trenches the will connect it to ammo depots and artillery dugouts. You realize that even while the Apostle has allowed the Eighth to rest and gather its strength before joing these preparations he has the Heghans working around the clock to get a head start on the trenches. Just as you reach the Northern Tower you hear a mighty roar that sounds like the eruption of a volcano and you, along with all the warriors present outside stop to watch as Princeps Thel begins to move his titans forward.

Indeed the the Apostle is wasting little to no time at all and you marvel at the massive gods of war that march out to protect the Helghans as they work the trenches and move artillery pieces into place. You look down and see General Radek on one of the walls looking at the spectacle with magnoculars and realize how far away this actually is and that it is only because of your heightened senses that you can barely see the ants that are the Helghans. You step up and into the Northern Tower and call out to all of the Raptors present who need to be moved and they assemble before you wondering why they have been called, tell them your orders, yet some of them might not take kindly to being ordered around by a new green recruit.

In fact one in particular does not like it at all and voices his opinion, *"And who are you to tell us what to do whelp? I take orders only from Aresk and the Apostle, not some errand boy who the captain has suddenly taken a liking to."* you try to remember the Raptor's name and it finally comes to you as his snake like voice ends, Hassan. How do you respond to this? Surely this man has much more experiece then you do, and could possibly even kill you, so this situation must be handled with the utmost care until Aresk arrives.

Redivivus: As you sit outside the Apostle's chambers and wait for new orders the bastion shakes a bit and you hear a mighty roar. You turn your head to look out the huge window to your right and you see Thel's mighty titans moving to protect the Helghans who have already begun the digging process of the trenches and the first line. You remember in days long gone having to dig those trenches yourself, and later on having to watch and make sure that they were built appropriately and to the right specifications, yet those were times long long ago and now those that you would be watching would be literally frightened to death at the sight of you.

As you stand watch you can literally feel the warpstuff that is ripping off of the Apostle inside the other room, does this make you want more power, or do you simply bask in the feeling it gives you? Whatever the choice you hear the Apostle's voice in your head and he speaks to you, *"Brother, a shuttle will be arriving soon and I need those that are on it and the cargo that they have to be escorted here safely, go to the landing field and wait for them to arrive."* While you would have stood there for an eternity had the Apostle asked it of you this new order is intriguing, but you make your way to the landing field regardless.

The landing field is to the North West of the bastion, North of where the Third Company is mustering its warriors, make your way there and wait. You will have to pass through the warriors of the Third to get there and will see Lynx with Fergus, one of the terminator veterans of the First. Do you wonder why Fergus would be with Lynx? As you reach the landing field you see an azure colored landing craft touch down, it is in the heraldry of the Thousand Sons, and sure enough as the ramp lowers a tall sorcerer covered in armor that is decorated with jewels and gold strides down it followed by a small cadre of marines who are carrying an obsidian coffin.

You take them back to the Apostle's chambers and they walk inside, the doors closing behind them. How do you react to the Thousand Sons being here and their mysterious package? You see that Corius is now up here and can feel the tension between him and the raptor Maximus.

Corius: You get the vox reply telling you that you and the Sorcerer are to head up to where the Apostle is and await for his summons to let you in. You had expected to be let go and be able to go and resupply and ready yourself for the coming battle with your men but apparently you are to escort Luminus and you do. As the lift you two take to get to the top of the bastion opens to allow you two out you see that who you hate the most, Maximus.

You are about to attack him when you see the Captain Aresk of the Fourth stands next to him, and he is watching you very carefully, his eyes unblinking. To attack Maximus now would be foolish, not only would the Apostle kill the two of you for doing it at such a bad time, but Aresk would likely get the honor of killing you before that. You have little respect for him but know that he is a superb warrior and could kill you quicker then anyone with a simple well placed shot. How do you feel about having to stand so near to your most hated enemy but not be able to do anything about it? You can see small bits of electricity running across Luminus's staff and realize that he was ready for a fight. Suddenly a lift opens and the Obliterator Redivivus returns to his post, a small cadre of Thousand Sons carrying a large obsidian coffin entering the Apostle's chamber, the doors closing behind them. Why are the Thousand Sons here? How do you react to seeing Maximus and then seeing these warriors enter?

Luminus: You follow Corius to a lift that will take the two of you up to where you are to await the Apostle's summons. Yet as the door opens you can already feel Corius's bound wrath begin to unravel like a storm and realize that the Maximus he spoke about must also be up here, no doubt awaiting his punishment. 

You ready your mind for a quick skirmish but also try and psychically calm Corius without him knowing. You can feel another mind, one you had felt on the battlefield only recently, one that you had felt not too long ago when you had fought beside the Eighth before. It is Aresk the Captain of the Fourth, his mind radiates contained malice and lightning quick power, and you realize that this is why Corius stands down, more so then anything else. You still have your mind ready and silently wait, does waiting with such pending information make you anxious? Angere? How do you feel about the confrontation between Corius and Maximus that feels as though it will come to blows at any second? As you think on this a cult of Obliterators enters, a Thousand Sons sorcerer leading a small cadre of marines who are carrying an obsidian coffin. They enter the Apostle's chamber and the doors close behind them. How do you react to them being here?

Akakios: After releasing Pavor you are ordered to go and oversee the making of the first line and the trenches that are being built to connect it to the second. As the Stormbird you are in takes off and rockets outwards away from the bastion you watch Thel move his mighty titans to cover the working Helghans from the fire that is coming off of the massive fortress ahead of you. The area between the bastion and the massive fortress is a veritable wasteland and devoid of all life, even rocks are scarce and you wonder at the distance that the Helghans traveled so quickly to begin the building of the trenches.

The Stormbird touches down minutes after leaving the bastion and you and your brothers step out onto that wasteland. A strong wind blows, dust caking your armor almost immediately, and you are pointed to where you are needed most by a Helghan officer. The ground shakes from artillery that is being fired from the fortress and Thel's titans as they get closer and closer, and you look down the long length of the first line and the saps that are starting to be dug. Shaking your head you know that they are going about it wrong and head to where the officer told you where to go.

Do you split your squad up so that your two brothers may cover their own areas and aide in the digging of the trenchlines? Or do you keep them with you? As you finally get to where the officer pointed you pass up a huge artillery pit on your left, it is massive and could hold a superheavey tank and then some. You know there are two of these pits in the line and exactly what they are for, you remember the two massive siege engines that Perturabo had gifted to the Eighth after the siege of terra, that the Apostle is willing to use those now shows that he wants this fortress badly.

Begin aiding the workers, do what you will with your brothers, you will get a vox telling you that Shamesu will soon be on his way to survey the trenches himself.

Pavor: You are let free and told where to go, making your way to where Lord Shamesu waits for you. Once you get there greet him, say what you want, but you two are to move out and survey the trenches being built, this is something Lord Shamesu has always done and he is taking you with him. The two of you are put on a transport that was meant to house battletanks but has been refitted for Lord Shamesu and other dreadnoughts and within scant minutes it is already touching down among the wastes.

You follow him silently as he makes his way toward the center and then abruptly stops, his radar allowing him to keep watch on every part of the trenches and the command level of his vox allowing him to speak with whoever he wised in the trenches. You stand next to him and also watch as the Helghans work tirelessly to the beating rythm of the fortress's artillery shells and Thel's titans' footsteps. Now is your time to speak with Lord Shamesu if you wish, ask him what you will, talk to him about whatever would plague Pavor's mind.

Lynx: Fergus stands and stares at your command squad for awhile and then shoots his gaze across the warriors of the Third, the silence between all of you seeming to not affect him at all. Finally he turns back towards you and your men and says, *"Yes I will join you, the fallen must always be remembered, lest thier fate become ours."*He pauses thinking before adding, *"Yet I advise you to be quick, the Helghans have already finished the first line and the saps to the second are already underway. Lord Shamesu has left not long ago to survey the trenches himself while Thel and his god machines are moving to provide cover until the companies move out. Our artillery is moving out already..."* he points down below where the tank depot is and you all see a long line of machines beginning to drive out and into the wastes to where they will be put into artillery pits.

*"If I am correct then the companies will be called soon to move out also."* He stops and stares at you, you shift thinking he is going to add more but realize he has finished and is waiting for your orders. You turn and see Severus's massive Obliterators heading towards the landing field, why are they going there? Are they meeting someone? Something? Give your orders to your men and let the honoring of Prothor begin to your specifications. You can feel the earth shake at the footsteps of Thel's titans but it slowly dissipates as they get further and further away, the tiny little specks that are the Helghans machines working endlessly at the trenches in the distance.

You see the Obliterator pass through your ranks again but this time leading a small cadre of Thousand Sons, a large obsidian coffin on a grav lift in the middle of them. Why are they here? What does this mean for the coming battle? 

Give your orders and do what you will, for you will be recieving your own orders soon.

Severus: As you tell the Apostle of past events and battles a smile creases his face, it seems he enjoys hearing of is army's exploits. *"The Tau are.....weak.....their presence within the warp is very weak...."* he lets you continue on about the Ultramarines, *"Mmmmm.......I congratulate you brother on that kill, it sounds as though I have missed out....."* he chuckles a bit and you can see his eyes moving and then his head nods as if he had just played the battle before his own eyes on some hidden screen.

His smile was suddenly erased as you tell him of the death of Berossus, his eyes narrowing, and his body becoming rigid. You know that the Apostle has not had word or communication with the other warsmiths for a very long time but that Berossus was considered an ally, alongside Ferrous Ironclaw and few others. *"Mongrel......"* his voice is a whisper but the menacing tone it has seems to shake the whole room you are in, *"Honsou......I have heard whispers of him......Berossus's death is a great blow to the Legion...."* 

He turns his head to regard you, *"Halfbreeds have their uses Severus, that includes Lynx, but believe me when I say that Lynx has a purpose and he is where he is to fulfill that purpose, no more no less, I do not enjoy sullying our ranks with these halfbreeds.........but this process will soon be obsolete. I have many promises that I have kept over the years with friends in high places and it is time that they return their ends of the bargain."* he stops and stares back out at the fortress in the distance. The first line had already been dug and was in the process of being fortified while saps were being dug to begin the second line, Lord Shamesu had already gone out to inspect them himself.

*"Fabius has a promise that he still has to keep Severus.....we will not have to deal with these halfbreeds much longer....and this Honsou, his plans to attack Ultramar, while lofty, are only his way of trying to prove himself and he will falter."* His eyes meet yours and he continues, *"Our plans are much greater my friend, our goal much purer then simple destruction, do not forget why we fight the long fight my friend."* 

He sweeps his arms out as if encompassing the whole planet before you, *"This planet holds great significance Severus, I suppose I can tell you now as long as you keep my reasons to yourself. Beneath the dirt and the fortresses that cover this planet's surface lies an ancient device of immeasurable power, more so then the Black Stone fortresses that Ezekyle has captured. It contains the power to bring whole systems underfoot with the stroke of a hand, and it is right here beneath our very feet."* the hunger for this device is evident in the Apostle's voice as he speaks, *"You remember the stories that the Alpha Legion told us about the device they had encountered on thier last planet they conquered in the crusade? One that fed off of blood and once activated decimated the entire planet?"* he lets you remember the story before continuing, *"One of those same devices lies deep within this planet Severus, a Black Cube, and I intend to find it."*

His arms come back down to his side, *"This device will give us the extra edge we need my brother. Honsou can have Ultramar, my path has and always will lead to one goal, and that is Terra."* The implications of how much power the Eighth would weild almost knocks you back as you realize how important this coming siege actually is. You know that the Legions have been mustering for a long time and that their forces outside of the warp have been attacking the right areas to allow this new Black Crusade to come to fruition. The fact that the Eighth was out on the eastern fringe and that it was the Apostle and his warriors and not anyone else out here to retrieve this device suddenly smacked of such great foresight on the primarchs' behalf that you finally realized the reasoning behind it all. 

The Apostle did not bring you out here to the fringes of space just because, he was ordered, the whole time the Eighth has been out here they have been searching unknowingly for this device. Before you can speak a holoscreen comes online and warrior dressed in azure armor covered in a white robe dominates the screen, his high helm adorned with all manner of jewels and gold,_ "We have arrived Vilhelm." _the smile that cuts across the Apostle's face is enormous, *"Good you will be escorted here."* He turns to you as the holoscreen blinks off, "One of the promises I told you about is about to be fulfilled my friend." 

Soon the Thousand Sons entered the room you are in, the sorcerer tall and his armor covered in jewels and designs, the warriors behind him carrying a large obsidian coffin on a grav lift. Vilhelm frowned, *"He is not with you." *it wasnt a question, the sorcerer didnt seem perturbed one bit by the Apostle's presence, _"No lord he is currently very busy but he has sent me instead, I assure you I am more then capable in aiding you with the study of the cube. Where should this be left?"_ He motioned to the coffin. Vilhelm pointed to a large sealed door hidden at the end of the room, *"In there for now..."* the Thousand Sons put the coffin in the room before it is sealed tightly shut. *"Severus you remember Hathor Maat yes? Sorcerer-Warrior and one of the leaders of the Thousand Sons? He is here to aid us with the cube, I regret that my knowledge on the device is limited and he will help us once it is acquired."*

Hathor nods at you before the Apostle continues, *"Are you ready to speak with Maximus and Corius brother? I have had them both brought up here so that we can determine the events that passed between the two of them and come to a sentence for Maximus."* Answer the Apostle, this is a very large update for you and will take some time for you to respond to everything, sorry for the length but I had to answer all of Severus's questions.

Zamiel: You sit and listen to the conversation between the Apostle and Severus, every word passing into your ears. This cube would bring such great power to the Eighth and the Apostle they would be unstoppable! How do you feel about suc revelations? As you wonder at the possibilities the doors open and a cadre of Thousand Sons led by Sorcerer walk in carrying a large obisidan coffin. A brief exchange goes between them and the warriors bring the coffin over to a set of blast doors in the wall and set it within the sealed room before heading back over to their lord. 

Why are they here? How do you feel about the Thousand Sons appearing on the eve of battle? You hear the Apostle say that they are to aid in the study of the cube, how does this make you feel? 

[ok all sorry for the horrendous length of the update but it had to be done to get all the info in. this will be the last update before the warriors of the eighth are ordered to move out and aide in the making and preperations of the siegeworks. Those of you that see the Thousand Sons show up especially have a lot to react to, why the hell are those bastars here? Especially Severus, you have a lot to digest in this update Euph. I hope you all are having a great summer, the siege will commence very soon.]


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel stood, leaning against an archway with his clawed arms crossed together, his ethereal mask eclipsing his true expression from all. He listened to the Apostle and Severus speaking, absorbing their conversation and gleaming what he could from it.

At first they discussed the weakling Tau race, Zamiel had fought them several times and had led his Possessed Marines to victory against a Battlesuit cadre, the memory of ripping open the scum's armour plating and tearing the rider out of his suit, only to tear him in half right after, was a very fond memory for The Exalted. Then they discussed the bastard sons of Guilliman, Zamiel hated those archaic vermin, enslaved to ancient doctrines and so afraid to deviate from them. Combat was chaotic, there was no room for devotion to tactics, there always came a point when the time for order and tactics were over and pure blood frenzy was to take over.

They then talked of the half-breed Honsou and his victory over the corpse-machine Berossus. The Apostle showed what Zamiel could have guessed was remorse for the loss of Warsmith Berossus, Zamiel however could have cared less. He hated Honsou, the whelp mongrel, and Berossus, the life-less husk of a machine, equally. Both were unfit to lead, only true warriors were fit to lead the Iron Warriors and men like Zamiel the Exalted. They talked about the half-breed captain Lynx, it had incensed Zamiel to serve under that worm and he had been elated when he was no longer under the bastard's command anymore.

The Apostle and Severus's new topic surprised Zamiel. A Black Cube?!, here?!. Amazing, with that entire worlds would fall before them. And yet Zamiel felt that it would be hollow, no violence, no slaughter. Just destroying worlds without a true fight, he would bring that up with the Apostle later. Just destroying worlds was not enough, the Chaos Gods demanded slaughter and blood as well as souls for sacrifice. Suddenly the holo-screen was active and a voice spoke of arrival, but as Zamiel turned the image had disappeared.

Then they arrived. The Thousand Sons, dressed in armour so gaudy that Zamiel wondered if jewel craftsman had made it rather then true artificers. They were Sorcerers, Zamiel did not care for them even slightly. They kept out of the real fighting and were fine with staying behind the lines and blasting their foes from range, it was cowardly. Zamiel did not hate their Sorcery, he hated their cowardice and over-dependence on it. Then he heard the name Hathor Maat, he could swear he knew that name. He had served with a Baleq Uthizzar during the False Crusade. Then he remembered, he had served with another Thousand Son whom he remembered mentioning Hathor Maat to him, Azhek Ahriman. The Chief Librarian of the Thousand Sons, was he coming here. The Apostle couldn't trust that snake, his own legion has disowned him for his treachery.

They were carrying a coffin as well, whatever was in there could not be good. Most likely a Thousand Son trick, designed to look like aid. Zamiel resolved to find out what was in that coffin, and make sure that when the Thousand Son's treachery came, he would be prepared for it.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius and Luminus had stood in silent, his rage at Maximus had left them both to ponder on their own thoughts. Corius wanted to be with his own men, and more importantly to prepare for the coming battle. Not baby-sitting some sorcerer. He had been around long enough to look after himself. He wasn't dead yet, so obviously he wasn't weak like one of Maximus' mongrels, and there wasn't any danger here. This was a pointless waste of time! Corius grumbled silently to himself. However, he got a vox through informing him that Luminus AND him were to report upstairs to the Black Apostle. *Aaaarrrrggggghhhhhh! Stupid sorcerer, is he not capable of traversing an elevator?* Corius groaned, and then spoke to Luminus "You and me are to report to the Black Apostle. Quite why you aren't capable of going in an elevator without an escort I doubt I'll ever know." He realized the foolishness of so flippantly disregarding the Black Apostle in front of a man who was just about to walk into a room and could repeat ever word he just said. "But if the Black Apostle said so, then it will be!" some how he doubted that would be enough to convince the sorcerer. He just had to hope that he had earned his trust, if one was able to earn a schemer of Tzeentch's trust, if such a thing existed. *"Do you doubt your Apostle, or is the anger of betrayal still burning in your heart?"*. Corius chose his next words very carefully, wary to create the best impression on this sorcerer. "I do not doubt him. He has a wealth of information and experience that I can never hope to rival. However, I cannot pretend to understand why he requires me also, as he must surely know of the pre-battle preparations that have yet to take place. However, if he requests me, than he must have a reason for it. However, I fear the fire of betrayal is dwarfing my true emotions. I have no resentment for the Apostle or his words, only that cur Maximus!"

As they stepped into the elevator, Corius couldn't help but ponder why the Black Apostle had summoned him also. Surely he did not think Luminus needed and escort, and he clearly knew about the pre-battle preparations that were happening in every squad all throughout the Eighth. This didn't make much sense to Corius, why would the Black Apostle request him to accompany Luminus? As the doors slid open, he had his answer. There stood the incompetent, insubordinate, son of a bastard whore of Dorn; Maximus. Corius let out a low growl and even without realizing it, his lightning claws slid out of their sheaths. He thought of charging head-long into the vile half-breed and rending him, piece by piece. He would make him suffer, and take his head so all would know the price of insubordination, and of crossing him. He made a step forward, when his sub-conscious brain tried to alert his conscious brain of another presence. The Captain of the Fourth, Aresk. He had no love for the Captain, seeing him as superior only to bastard son of Dorn, Lynx, but the man had talent. He remembered being about to rend an enemy commander whom Severus had commanded him to slay, only to see a bolt round from Aresk's bolter implode his head. More impressive, he was almost on the other side of the battlefield. He would probably kill him before he even got to Maximus, and then that would serve no purpose. Even if he didn't kill him, the Black Apostle would for attacking one another at such a bad time. So Corius was forced to bite his tongue, sheath his claws, and wait. He glanced briefly to Luminus and noticed small arcs of lighting caressing his staff. He had clearly been anticipating a fight. And he had almost been right.

So Corius and Luminus stepped out of the lift and walked over to Aresk and Maximus. "Captain Aresk, it is always an honour!" Corius said before briefly bowing. Despite the fact that Corius was aggravated by his presence, as he was the thing that bared him from slaughtering Maximus like the dog he was, he still out-ranked him, and thus was worth of respect. Everyone else exchanged greetings, apart from him and Maximus. The two met each others gaze. Corius' head was still unhelmeted, but his transformation meant he no longer required on, so he was able to channel all his rage and hatred into a look that pierced to the very heart of Maximus. Even though he could imagine Maximus still thought he had superiority over him, they both knew why they had been called here. The Black Apostle could not, and would not stand for such insubordination. They both knew Maximus' time was done, so Corius merely laughed inwardly, and whispered the most foul greeting an Iron Warrior could give, or recieve. "Half-breed." Corius' thoughts were, if he could anger Maximus into attacking him, any reactions would be self-defense and therefore justified. All he had to do was keep poking, keep jibing, subtly enough that is wasn't seen as too provocative, after-all a certain amount of tension could be tolerated, but would get Maximus riled. He just had to be careful he didn't fall for the same trick...

(O.C.C. I realize people may respond to me, as it's quite a long post. If something happens during the post, I'll factor it in (e.g. Luminus responding in the elevator), but if it's after the post occurs, I'll just post again.)


----------



## Masked Jackal

*A most interesting development. My opinion of Corius must go up notch, to have survived such betrayal, and my opinion of this Maximus shall have to be determined. If he turns out to be worthless, than it would be profitable to find a way to settle this dispute. Fatally.* As they went towards the elevator, Corius disturbed Luminus' thoughts with symptoms of rage.

"Do you doubt your Apostle, or is the anger of betrayal still burning in your heart?" Luminus tilted his tone to make it obvious he thought it was the latter. It would tell a lot which way this man would go. More anger, and it would become obvious that he became foolish himself when confronted with personal matters, but if he could reign it in, he would become more valuable. He stepped into the elevator, awaiting his response eagerly. [[Alright, there's your reply in the elevator.]]

As the lift doors opened, Luminus unfurled his mind instinctively at the strong anger beside him. After a second to confirm in his mind who he must be seeing, Luminus reached out to calm Corius' mind, though he still took a step forward and unsheathed his lightning claws, the sight of the Sergeant there seemed to calm him, or rather, cow him. *Good, a confrontation now would just lead to problems.* Luminus restrained his mind, and with it, his staff, which had begun to emit energy in anticipation of the fight. 

Corius seemed to be sane enough now to give a greeting. *Ah, Aresk, I remember him. He is most competent. And dangerous.* Luminus himself gave a greeting himself, a slight bow to someone who had a rank. *I'm outside this rank system, but it is still good to show some measure of respect, since they likely think I am an intruder on their petty politics.* "Greetings from me as well, Aresk." After that, silence seemed to reign, and Luminus went back to his thoughts. *Waiting. Perhaps the Apostle means to instigate some of these feuds? Weed out the weak? If so, he is most worthy of his servants.*

Luminus realized that something was happening, and saw an Obliterator cult, followed by a Thousand Sons sorceror and his cadre, carrying a coffin. *Most interesting. It must be important, could it perhaps contain the Black Cube I found evidence of? Unlikely, it would probably be well-hidden and it would have taken long for it to have been found, but what can the Thousand Sons be up to?*


----------



## dark angel

_The Ironmonger was not like the other vessels of the Iron Warriors. Unlike them it was sea bound, built upon a planet rather than some far flung insidious shipyard. It was long, fat towards the rear but slim near the heavily armoured prow. A cutting tool, for ramming and sheering ships in two. Her hull was studded with embedded artillery pieces, many of which were looted from nearby worlds for this war of attrition. The Ironmonger, was, in reality a moving island of metal. She belched thick dirty looking smoke from fat funnels which clawed at the skies, each adorned with dozens of brazen skulls.

‘It is magnificent’ admired Pavor as his Thunderhawk swooped in low over the superstructure of the vessel, rattling the canopy of interlocking walkways. 

He stood in the open hatch, his one hand latched around a rail towards the side, his other bearing his shield. There were several landing platforms adjoined to the Ironmonger, each one large enough to hold some seven Thunderhawks or three Stormbirds. Most were clear of vehicles and bore armoured phalanxes of tanks and artillery pieces, their cannons pointed towards the manmade continent in the distance. There was no name for the slab of metal embedded in the crust of the planet like a spear, at least not one which was official. 

Along the flanks of the Ironmonger, dozens of waterborne transports rested. Each would carry treacherous Guardsmen forwards onto the isle of steel, but towards the rear larger vehicles assigned to the Astartes awaited. How the stolen Mechanicus Adepts had ameliorated since Pavor had last laid sight upon their creations. No doubt the brainchild of some long dead philosopher, the Ironmonger was certainly a tremendous gathering of grandeur. Weapons swiveled in their emplacements as the Thunderhawk banked away, between a pair of control towers infested with Daemonic Entities, the very walls seething and twisting in a dance of iron flesh. 

Pavor noticed Astartes down below watching over hundreds of Slave-Warriors. These would form the first wave, to exhaust the enemy ammunition with a wall of curs. One, a shriveled woman, tried to escape but was put down by a chattering Bolter, the Nurgle-thrice blessed Marine laughing hoarsely as her body came apart beneath his fire. Pavor spat in disgust. He despised those Astartes who were weak enough to allow themselves too fall into damnation, and vowed that he would never let himself serve on particular God. 

The Thunderhawk neared its landing zone, a small platform raised above the main decking on blackened jabs of metal. A retinue of Iron Warrior Terminators stood at the ready there, their tusked helms formed into the visage of some primordial beast long destroyed. Flames gushed from the belly of the Thunderhawk as it landed, clawed pistons reaching out and gripping the decking tightly. Pavor was the first down, followed by his seven Astartes. Eight more followed, these bearing arching jump packs which stirred with energy. 

Their armour was trimmed with brass and bone, and Pavor knew these to be the Khornite Raptors of Nathenael the Bloodied. Pavor had served with Nathanael since he had been a mere whelp, and held the Raptor in high respect. Yet Nathenael did not cease his fast, hooked movements towards the Terminators as Pavor had, and at the last moment ignited his jump pack and was tossed into the depths of the Ironmonger. His Brood followed suite, howling and whooping as they fell into the darkness below. 

There was a stifling rage building in the foremost Terminators throat, a low growling upon raw glands. He was a giant amongst giants, dwarfing his fellows in both stature and personality. A silver mane of hair was pulled into a high topknot and his emerald hued eyes glared at Pavor and his Squad warningly. Both his lips were pinned onto the flesh above and below, revealing a forest of browned teeth not dissimilar to a sharks. Both his hands were encased in red Power-Fists, which ended in curling barbs stained with a millennia of gore.

A pelt of black and grey fur draped from his wide, studded shoulders and it flapped in the wind behind him like a single long wing. He stepped forwards and scanned the eight Marines standing before him, with Pavor and another at the centre, both defiance ridden. He was sent into a deep mirth, cold and calculation yet strangely welcoming. Pavor’s brow twitched as he pondered on what would happen, but rather than some killing blow, the Marine spun and trudged off.

‘Well, that was rather rude’ Pavor mused to himself as the final Squad departed the vessel. He knew these as members of the Fourth’s Command Squad. It had been an honour to land with Aresk himself, and Pavor shared a nod with the Captain who’s ancient features curled into a smile. His yellow eyes twinkled like a pair of miniature suns, and his smooth face slowly came back into place from its furrowed posture. 

The Captain and his Command Squad marched towards where the Terminators had headed, cloaks of interlocking chain rustling as they were dragged along by the Astartes’ massive strides. More Thunderhawks, three in total, bearing a small percentage of the Fourth, knifed through the polluted skies towards the Ironmonger and Pavor felt his hearts thump wildly in his chest. A war horn sounded on another sea vessel, a equally as massive ship was the Ironmonger but completely different, and a vast barrage of chaotic fire was sent forth towards the horizon. 

Explosions blossomed upwards, and sections fell beneath the sloshing waves, sinking downwards and breaking apart violently. Pavor grinned and marched off into the Ironmonger, tensing his fingers around the haft of his blade, which was slipped into a furred scabbard at his side. It was formed from the flesh of those he had slain. Only those worthy of being immortalized in such a way, of course.

++++++++

The command deck was a large twisted atrium upon the pinnacle of the highest tower, allowing those within a clear vision of all around. It sloped downwards as it neared the centre, obsidian laced marble forming steps towards the long oaken table at the centre. Around it stood the various Iron Warrior leaders which were present, along with one scarlet splashed World Eater who was bringing some three hundred Khornite Raptors into the fray. Warsmith Toramino stood at the head of the table, and he was the overall commander of this campaign.

He was awe inspiring. Ancient, he still managed to cling to beauty in his own way. Vilhelm had served under Toramino during the Damned Crusade, thus why he had rerouted a portion of the Fourth in support. He wore a suit of exquisitely tooled power armor, handcrafted on Olympia itself and burnished to a mirror sheen. Its trims were edged with arabesques of carven gold and onyx chevrons and its every surface wrought with terrible sigils of ruin. 

An ochre cloak of woven metallic thread, stronger than adamantium, spun around his wide frame, partially obscuring the skull-masked symbol of the Iron Warriors on one shoulder guard and his own personal heraldry of a mailed fist above a plan view of a breached redoubt on the other. His mane of long white hair was pulled into his head tightly, and formed a series of apparently well organized ranks along its centre until it fell off down his back. Shimmering golden orbs rested beneath a brow which showed his veteran status perfectly, and his eyes were cold and measuring. 

Aresk stood directly opposite him, his own armour as ornamental yet at the same time different. Both were staring each other off, hands pushed into the surface beneath them tightly. Warsmith Aetos stood between the pair, his Terminator armour hidden beneath a golden cloak. The trio shared different opinions on the upcoming campaign, and Pavor watched as the whole debacle unfolded from atop the raised platform, his back pushed into a pillar and his arms crossed over his chest.

‘We strike quick, my Terminator armoured will provide us a breach: Here, here and here’ growled Aetos, indicating several locations on the hollowing map before him with one clawed finger. His voice, reminiscent of croaking leather sounding loud in the ears of each present. 

‘No, my Raptors will move through these underwater tunnels and cut out the heart of the enemy before they have a chance to strike. A continued bombardment will provide your units cover, while my forces open the primary docks’ retorted Aresk quickly, his voice nothing more than a low and monotone growl. 

The amphitheatre had fallen silent, the individual Sergeants and consorts having ceased their discussions of the upcoming battle in favour of listening to their commanders. Pavor watched them bustle and sit on the steps, staring and whispering. Pavor simply detached himself further, using his advanced earring too single out those around the polished, depraved table. 

‘Both admirable plans. Both flawed however’ interjected Toramino, scratching his chin with two fingers, pushing the skin together until it rolled over and formed a mass of pale flesh. 

‘Flawed? Please do enlighten me, Toramino’ demanded Aetos grimly, his eyes narrowing into silver slits below his scarred brow. His lips had pursed, and his ears perked strangely as e awaited Toramino to indulge him with why he believed that the mighty cohorts of Aetos the Grim could not pull of such a thing. 

‘Firstly, Aetos, your Terminator cadre will never even get close. Seven hundred metres out’ Toramino slipped his flinger through the green shimmering map ’There is an extensive mine field. My sappers are already defusing them from beneath the tides, but that will take several more days. I have an extensive plan prepared, and your Terminators shall provide a large part’ he watched Aetos nod his bearded face slowly, still staring at the flickering light before him. 

‘And why is my plan flawed, Lord Toramino?’ muttered Aresk, his head half lowered from the golden eyes of Toramino. Aresk was no cowered, yet he still seemed to falter under the gaze of this venerable warrior. 

‘The main problem, Aresk, would be the fact the tunnels no longer exist’ the long green parallels disappeared at that, winking out of reality ‘We lost seven Marines and thousands of Slave-Warriors during the flooding, those few tunnels that survive are structurally unsafe. Do you understand now, Aresk of the Eighth?’

The Captain of the Fourth nodded grimly, and the bulky form of Warsmith Falkor, his shoulders draped in scaled cloaking that had been cut from the flesh of a serpentine beast which had accompanied the Salamanders at Isstvan stepped forth. His face was a mask of raw meat which twitched to itself, revealed arteries worming in the exposed muscle. He said nothing as he walked around the assembled officers, tapping each of their shoulder pauldrons as he did so. 

‘My Raptors will accompany the first wave’ hissed the World Eater, Kharlek. His voice was truly horrifying, and Pavor winced as it pierced his eardrums like adamantium blades. 

‘Hmm….’ Toramino mused, his eyes shrinking half closed as he was sent into deep thought. He clearly had not expected that Kharlek would have immersed his warriors so early on. In fact, he had been hoping that he would not. But he could not argue with Kharlek, he brought far too many warriors into the fray to do so. 

‘Very well, Son of Angron. Your World Eaters shall be amongst the first wave, the Bloodspiller will be refitted as soon as I can possibly do so. In the meantime, return to orbit and prepare your Astartes, I am sure they will be longing for the blood of the enemy’ Toramino finally mustered his words, and the World Eater bowed his black mane covered head, the scars of his cheeks pulled into a tight, forced smile. 

He stood again to his full height and about turned, marching towards a gateway which Pavor had failed to notice. Aetos was now in converse with Falkor, whispering something into his ear, below audible level. Pavor slowly began to slip in the darkness and turned, behind him he heard ‘Very well. Kharlek and his World Eaters will die in battle. We will follow them in, prepare your warriors, my fellows. We march back too Olympia this day!’

++++++++

Pavor stood at the prow of the Ironmonger, surrounded by dozens of other warriors from various Grand Companies. He saw the monsters of Aetos, the elite veterans of Toramino and many more amongst him, mingling together as a punishing salvo struck the enemy defences hard. A vast fleet of small transports had pulled ahead of them, swarming around the small brazen and maroon form of the Bloodspiller. She herself was spitting forth waves of fire, all of the ships turrets spun forwards to face the growing black wall of the enemy. Pavor saw atriums shatter and flames spill forth, twisting marionettes darting amongst them.

Upon the prow of the Bloodspiller, he could see the Chain-Axe bearing World Eaters kneeling around the form of Kharlek, who placed his blood covered hands on the faces of each Astartes. A mighty Dreadnaught stood several feet from them, chanting litanies of old too his forces and muttering some odd blabbering about breaching the Emperor’s Walls. Hounds of Khorne stalked through the messy ranks, snapping off snarls and strands of spittle at some Marines. 

One unlucky fellow was chosen as a sacrifice and his head was crushed beneath the iron laden jaws, his brain splattering on the floor beneath. His armour became alight with green fire and it twisted, arms clawing lifelessly at the chest plate as it bulged and popped like a ripe balloon. His body was thrown into the depths below by a team of over grown Serfs, yet none of his fellows dared show remorse. Slave-Warriors dangled from spikes along the curled length of the Bloodspiller, screaming as they were slowly torn apart and sprayed with burning sea water. 

A mighty blaring sounded, and the vessel was thrown into action. The red faced World Eaters stood as one, staring at their target area. Smaller transports were already being plucked from the water in great plumes of flame and whitened liquid, their passengers screaming as they were immolated. The several dozen spinning propellers at the rear of the ship sent the Bloodspiller charging, cannons now silent. Kharlek was now pushing through his ranks, twin Chain-Axes held in a X across his front, head bowed between the teeth.

More of the smaller transports were destroyed, crushed into oblivion by enemy fire. World Eaters were tossed away in plumes of gore, yet their fellows still stood firm, jaws tightly locked. The long curtain wall of the enemy fortress-island grew ever more prominent. Pavor turned away from the display, marching back towards where his Squad rested against a massive bombardment weapon. He did not speak as he closed on them, but simply took a seat next to two of his fellows and stared at the skies.

The Bloodspiller closed now, armour rent in a dozen places and leaking palls of black smoke. It fired. Dozens of cannons roared in close range, deafening for the World Eaters assembled on its deck. Blossoms of gold flashed from the ends of long barrels, and mass reactive rounds hurtled forwards. The curtain wall crumpled inwards slowly, but it still stood. It was the barbed prow of the Bloodspiller which caused the wall to fall. It collapsed inwards, the shrieking metal heralding the death of those within. 

The virile World Eaters roared as the Bloodspiller was embedded deep, and leapt into the darkness. Kharlek slaughtered an untold number instantly, swinging amongst a crowd of baying warriors, beheading them or cutting them from shoulder to hip. The Hounds of Khorne howled and barked, before leaping forth in feline fashion, ripping limbs from torsos as they did so. The mighty Dreadnaught never got a chance to attack, and it was blown apart ecstatically by concentrated enemy fire. A glistening phalanx of purple armoured Guardsmen marched forth, spraying the World Eaters with armour piercing rounds. 

Kharlek, leaking a pink froth from the mouth and swinging his weapons back and forth, saw them and charged. Alone. His armour was battered and ripped, his flesh contorting beneath the long rounds. Yet he still leapt in the air, both of his weapons behind his head. The slaughter began. He head butted, kicked and hacked all in several seconds of the ensuing madness, and his World Eaters slowly began to push forwards as one. With each step they took, they roared hurtful blasphemies as one coherent mind. It was glorious. 

That was all ended suddenly, when a lack helmed figure, clad in gunmetal grey Power Armour stepped into view. In his hands he held a long broad bladed sword, and instantly the Iron Warriors roared together. The Iron Knight sheered the head from Kharlek’s shoulders silently, sending the scarred and ancient skull flying through the air like a ball. He pushed into the World Eaters alone, breaking away entire sections of bodies as a hundred and nineteen more, twenty of which bore Terminator Armour, stepped into the fray. The Hounds of Khorne targeted one blue armoured figure. A Witch, a Librarian. 

They charged forth in bloodlust, but the Librarian flickered from their path and appeared towards the side with a long barbed spear in his hands. It crackled with fibrous energies as he struck it through the armoured flank of one creature, sheering it in two and cauterizing the two halves instantly. Green and purple energy, fickle with deadly potential, struck out at the remainder of its pack mates instantly. They screamed as they died, but before the last could be cast back into the Warp it snapped out. The arm of the Librarian parted from his shoulder and he screamed in pain, collapsing back onto the ground with a gush of warm blood. 

Split in two sections, the World Eaters slowly began to die. One took down three Marines, including a Terminator, before he tumbled beneath the murk behind him with a broken blade in his primary heart, leaking blood from his facial orifices. Another embraced a Plasma-Pistol and overloaded it, leaping amongst a Squad of Marines. It detonated in a blue ball of twisting flame, and when it dissipated none still lived. The Bloodspiller, now being boarded by Terminators, saw it was doomed. It fired its cannons point blank and the hull splintered upwards, dark silhouettes contrasting against the flame.

The entire section of wall fell onto the remains of the ship and dragged it beneath the tides. The Iron Warriors nodded grimly and prepared to meet the enemy. Pavor simply smiled, and licked his lips…._

Once again Pavor had fallen into a lucid dream of a past battle. He remembered that one very well, due to it being amongst the latter ones before he was interred within his sarcophagus. It had been an excellent one….

_Pavor swung his blade left and right, beheading a pair of Iron Knights almost instantly. A thrust between the chest and throat armour of one Marine smeared Pavor in gore, spraying over his face. Nathenael the Bloodied landed nearby, his Lightning Claws ripping through the chest of one Marine, destroying the Gene-Seed. He threw himself away again, jump pack twisting him in amongst another Squad. Pavor saw his target, the one armoured Librarian and grinned…._

Pavor’s eyes flickered back to normal, the eyelids pulling away from each other drunkenly. He was now standing with Shamesu at the trenches, watching intently. Pavor pivoted towards Shamesu, as he cast away thoughts of battle for a short time. His mind was cleared by the presence of Shamesu, and his twin hearts pumped with vigor which had not existed since his body was destroyed. Thousands of questions browsed through him, and his form began to twitch strangely. The plugs in his flesh felt raw, but he ignored that. 

‘Lord Shamesu, why must I be damned to this machine? Why do we dwell here, when we could be pressing against Cadia? I respect you…..But I do not understand what our esteemed Apostle could possibly want….Want…..Want from this damn…Damned world. Please, Iron-King, enlighten me’


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus watched as a huge grin appeared on Aresk's face but was not comforted by it as Aresk spoke.
"Good, I am glad to hear it. I will wait here with you until you are called in by the Apostle, tell me Maximus, I have heard the sit rep for the battle and what had happened to most of the companies during the assault so I know somewhat where you and your men were during the battle but I would like to know the details. Tell me what happened to you and your men, that way I can get a better grasp on how to start your training and who to fill your squad up with when it comes time to replace your empty spaces."

"Well Captain, at first my squad and I used our bikes to get close to the walls then jumped onto them to take out several of the gun emplacements this was just before Arkias was killed, next we moved to the upper gun emplacements and destroyed them at the cost of three of my frie- squad, you may have seen the results yourself Captain" He paused as he realised that he had revealed that almost all of the men from his squad were old friends from the days of the False Emperors crusade and indeed at least two of them had saved his life, Quar for example had pulled his battered and broken form away from the walls of the Imperial palace after his encounter with Sigismund.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Maximus continued "Soon after we entered the bastion and my most experianced man was shot through the head, that bastard Corius then came up behind me, tried to stop me avenging him and then called him weak!!" His voice rose slightly before he brought it back down.

"Afterwards we were ordered to take the Control room and I was wounded by autocannon fire, also I am ashamed to admit that my rage overcame me and I seem to have fought like a World Eater, we reached the blast doors and I sent another of my men back for some melta charges however he did not return as somhow Nurglings appeared and killed him, I now hold his pistol" 
As he spoke he indicated his wounds and Lupax's pistol.
"After we entered I took control of the doors and auto turrets inside of the bastion, I closed off any escape routes for the loyalists and allowed our forces full access to the bastion except for Corius who I freely admit I trapped in that room, and I would do it again, also I still have control over the doors and guns as my squad and I hooked up some remote controls, I have a spare if you wish one?" he finished by offering his spare control to Aresk

Then Corius arrived and rage made him think of little else but how he would kill Corius, so much so that he barely realised the Sorceror was there or the Thousand Sons who entered the Apostles chamber.


----------



## Deus Mortis

After Maximus didn't respond for about a minute Corius chuckled quietly. Typical of that idiot cur to be unable to say anything. He noticed that his squad count had dwindled down to a pathetic three. Obviously his first comment about his squad mates being weak was correct. However, Corius couldn't help but wonder why Aresk was here. He wasn't his Captain, and, in his previous knowledge, the Captain was not particularly friendly with him. This was truly puzzling. The silence was deathly, but the friction between Corius and Maximus was almost tangible. Suddenly the elevator whined open, and Redvivus and his cult strode purposefully through the four marines, followed by a small cadre of Thousand Sons. Corius was aware of the Thousand Sons. He had no particular love of this legion of sorcerers, but they had their uses. But why were they here? What where they doing? And what was the obsidian coffin the carried? So many questions, but no one would answer him. However, Corius had a sneaking suspicion it was all to do with the generator he and his men had encountered. But what could be so vital that it required the presence of the untrustworthy Thousand Sons? Surely something far greater than him was taking place here, but Corius just hoped it did revolve around the generator, because then he could have a hand on some of the glory when this thing took off...


----------



## unxpekted22

Eisen waited a few moments for some kind of response...and then he waited a few more. With no success he sighed and dropped his arms further letting his bolter touch the ground. 

Soon enough the fuzz of his vox coming to life made his back straighten and his ears listen to the words his captain spoke for him. It was an odd task, a warrior going to round up a bunch of hellbent raptors who just lost most of their squads. Though if he was about to start climbing the ladder of success, this would be a good rung to get his foot on.

He reached the North tower after a long view of the Apostle starting his engine of war and death. The giant Titans walking the soil mere pistons of it all. Eisen had not gotten to where he was by being a fool though. Death was such a simple and overly common thing in this universe...and his ultimate master would be seeking something more gratifying than that. After all he had spent countless lifetimes killing already. 

He found the separated Raptors muttering around each other and without hesitation began speaking his orders, "You two with them, you all over here, combine your remaining forces. the Captain has asked me to assist you in this. He needs you all ready for inspection, and he will be here soon, so get it done."

This of course is when the loudmouth stepped up to him. As usual Eisen only half listened to him while trying to remember his insignificant name. "Ah, Hassan, yes you're absolutely right my dear brother. Let's see if I can answer you're question." He puts the tips of all ten fingers together to the chin of his helmet and bows his horned head for a moment as if in thought.

"If you only take orders from Aresk and The Apostle, then there should be no problem here. As I mentioned, my order to order you, comes from Captain Aresk himself. He is merely using me as a tool, an 'errand boy', to relay his words through me to you. So your order is in fact coming from Aresk himself. I can see why the Captain has come to like me over you and many others."

Eisen's voice suddenly picked up, becoming loud, rough, and harsh, "It might be because so many of you seem to enjoy wasting so much _time_! _I _don't waste time, _I_ get things _done_! If you weren't so concerned over who's mouth Aresk decided to have you hear his message from, _you'd be half way ready for inspection by now!!_"

His tone turned back to his normal helmet altered voice, "Bare in mind Hassan, I am well aware your battle skill is quite likely better than my own. Not to mention your raptor buddies here would probably back you up in a fight."

now to a metallic whisper, "But bare this in mind as well, a picture of the Captain arriving here with the warrior he is actually fond of dead by your hand. I don't think he has much time to deal with such matters right now and might be a bit displeased."

"But! If you value your life in this realm as little as I do then by all means kill me! We don't exist for purpose brother! We exist to excite the space we trample through."


----------



## heartslayer

As Akakios finished fixing the Land raider he had beeen working on he got a vox message through ordering him to go and oversee the construction of the trenches, as him and his brothers took off in his personal stormbird, he thought silently to himself about how much the Black apostle must want this fortress to put this much effort into taking it. 

As they disembarked from the stormbird Akaios armour was almost instantaneously caked in dust, he looked along the trenches, if they could be called that, and tutted. His help was more needed than he thought, he sent apollo and alcaeus off to aid the Helghans and went over to where the officer had sent him too. He set to work straight away giving the Helghans orders. He spotted an artillery bay slightly further along the Trench, big enough to hold a super heavy tank and then some, he knew what there was another one of these pits and also what they would be used for, back after the siege of terra Perturabo had gifted the Eighth with two Siege engines, but they were rarely used, for the black apostle to have resorted to using these behemoths, this fortress was apparently a lot more important than Akakios had realised.


----------



## Euphrati

‘What have you *done*…’

The words were barely recognizable in the roar of rage that spilled from his throat. Severus’ anger was almost a physical force, the silver veins under his skin pulsed with an eldritch light as he spun around to face the new addition, Oathbreaker’s haft creaking in his powerful grip as he snatched the warhammer from its sheath and took a threatening step forward,

‘I know the Witchwhores of the Red Sorcerer and, mark my words brother, whatever pact you have made with them will be turned back against us! _*This is our fight, our prize*_! The Eighth needs no help from these _warpswine_,’

Severus spat upon the blood-stained floor before turning partially back to the daemon prince at his side, his bionic eye spilled baneful light across the room as it kept focused upon the Son of Magnus,

‘…or from any others! I have followed you unerringly, Vilhelm, and this is how you reward me? I will not stand for it! I know of the Alpha Legion’s supposed encounter with the artifact item, your obsession with the rumour has blinded you to the truth of its usefulness. Once triggered by blood it is unstoppable, destroying all life and leaving a barren husk of a world in its wake that will never again support existence. _One world_, Vilhelm… *ONE*! I will see Terra fall brother, the Imperial Palace torn stone from stone to the very bedrock it was built upon, but I will not abide to stand aside while some thrice-cursed relic from a forgotten time does the deed for me!’

Severus’ cold iron fangs gleamed in the dim light as he locked eyes with the being that was once his brother,

‘You have been too long gone, Vilhelm. You have lost the truth of our gene-Father’s design and our destiny…’


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[this is for those who have spoken to NPC's and require answers to continue]

Eisen: Hassan activates his power claw and puts the tip very close to your throat before stopping himself, the powerfield around the claw starting to burn your skin. You can see the anger at your words causing his whole body to shake and realize that you might have made a mistake. Yet he pulls away and walks off, leaving you with the rest of the Raptors who have gotten into a nice little line, and allowing you to begin asking how many are left in these squads.

The first Raptor stands with two more to his sides, his name is Velos and from the looks of he and his two brothers they have become one with their armor, their power claws on their feet and hands twitching slightly. He is the first you must speak with, ask what the status is of is squad and the likes of how most of them were killed and so on.

Pavor: You can pick up the sound of Shamesu's gears moving before he answers your question, *"We are here for a multitude of reasons brother, not the least of which is because this planet is simply in our way, and once we have conquered it and passed the human elements of our Empire will come and take it as their own. This is a strategically important planet, let alone system, and once taken will allow us a strongpoint should the Imperium and the False-Emperor ever see the need to send a very large force against us."* he stops yet it seems as if he wants to say more, but you can tell he will not. It would seem that Lord Shamesu either does not, or cannot, tell you the other reasons why the Eighth is here.

Severus: After your outburst the room is deathly quiet, the Thousand Sons standing like lifeless automatons, and Hathor Maat taking a few steps back staring at the Apostle. He stares at you, no words being said, nothing, his tiny silver pupils seeming to engulf you until you start to feel a burning sensation coursing through your veins. At first it is not unpleasant but that thought very quickly begins to fade into pain as the blood coursing throught you begins to slowly boil and you hear the Apostle speak very softly, *"And you Severus have forgotten why I was elevated to Warsmith.....you have lost faith...." *

Your body hits the floor racked with pain, oathbreaker falling out of your grip, you vaguely register the Thousand Sons leaving the room, yet where they are going you have no idea. Suddenly the pain begins to subside slightly and you open your eye to see the Apostle standing over you, tenrils of warpstuff are reaching out to you and press wetly against your temples.

You hear him speak and at the same time visions flood your mind, *"I was not given this task by our gene-father without the knowledge of the full consequences of such a weapon brother." *You see a still frame of some of the Helghan ships retreating from a planet, a dark cloud engulfing it and all the Imperials on and around the planet completely, another picture coalesces into the same thing but you can barely pick out the colors of the Alpha Legion.

Another vision hits you and you see Vilhelm kneeling before Perturabo as he is gifted his warhammer, the same one he carries now, as he is elevated to warsmith. You can see Shamesu standing amongst you and Barok along with some of the other Warsmiths, Ferrous, Berrossus, Hephaeston, all allies now of Vilhelm. *"You have lost faith in my abilities brother, when have I ever led the Eighth away from our greatest purpose? Our greatest goal in our long lives?"* Suddenly you are hit by a flood of pictures of the warp, what you see you have no clue and you feel your sanity tugging away slowly as you have that gut feeling that you are seeing a small vision of the Apostle's time in the warp. Finally you see Terra in all her might and glory, you see the Legions there yet this time is different then the first, the walls shake and you see mighty siege engines destroying the them and breaking open wide breaches large enough for a titan to walk through. You see the Apostle leading the Eighth through a large breach, every defender that gets close to him dies in searing agony before they can even touch him, his huge cannon arm firing shot after shot into the breach.

With a gasp he lets you go and pulls back, your body hurts but that is residual pain, and you open your eye to see him standing there his head shaking. *"You do not think that I know of the Thousand Sons' treacherous ways brother? You do not think that I know of Ahriman's true goal? I do, and I have never forgotten these things, I have never been the one to forget tiny details Severus and you know this. The Thousand Sons are here to be used as a tool, for not all tools come in the form of wrought iron and steel, they are here thinking that they are tricking me but truthfully they dance to my tune. They will provide me with the souls strong enough to inact the bindings that will hold this weapon until it reaches the planet I wish it to sit on. Hathor on the other hand has another purpose all together."*

He stops before continuing, *"Whether you like it or not they are here to fulfill a purpose in MY plans. For you to think that I would use the cube on Terra herself shows that you have forgotten much about me Severus, it pains me to think that my time that I have spent in the warp has blinded my warriors from truly seeing me again. The cube is as the Thousand Sons, a tool to be used on our way to Terra herself, and unlike you I have spent the past three thousand years in the warp, and Severus I have not spent that time idly waiting."*

*"The cube kills all life on a planet before finally becoming silent again, why would I deny my warriors the right to take a planet themselves? I would not, this weapon is not to be used in sieges Severus, it was never meant to be. It is the perfect weapon for traps and that is why we have it.....when the Imperium sends a force against us that is big enough to level systems against what would seem to be a hole in our defences they will encounter a small group of halfbreeds and Helghans, and their worst nightmare." *

*"This weapon allows us to have a silent wall in our systems wide defences Severus, it allows me to bring more men to the fore in other more important battles and lets me use more of my resources rather then spreading the Eighth and its human elements in a thin line. Tactfully it is a horrible offensive weapon, but defensively its beauty shines."* He leans down until his face is inches from yours, *"THAT is why we are here, THAT is why this weapon will be ours, THAT is why Ahriman's brood is here, not because I have been too long from the real world, but because the primarch and I have planned this out from the very start, because I communed with him while I was in the warp, because your mind cannot comprehend what we have in store for Terra and the Imperium, and because I am his chosen warrior, I am his champion, I am the Hammer of Olympia...." *his forked tongue licks your face, *"And you would do well to remember that when addressing me."* he gets up and waves his claw at the door, *"Leave me and ready your men Severus, I will decide what happens to Maximus. If you wish to gain the respect you have lost you would do well in the coming siege....lest you fall further from my grace."* 

Now what to do? You have clearly almost signed your own death warrant yet here you are living still, but you have clearly fallen from the Apostle's grace with what you have said. What are your thoughts on what he has shown/said to you? The cube, while dangerous as you have said, is clearly going to be put to good use by the Apostle, yet do you still condone the use of it? The Thousand Sons have a purpose and while you know what the automatons are here to fulfill you still do not know why Hathor Maat is here and what the Apostle plans to do with him. Leave and ready your men for the coming battle, or speak in response if you are feeling brave enough, when you leave take Corius with you.


----------



## Lord of the Night

The presence of the Thousand Sons continued to gnaw at Zamiel, while he could see their benefit he also saw that the risk was far too great involving these conniving worms for any benefit, save the False Emperor's agonizing death and the Imperium's wretches being sacrificed en-masse to the Dark Gods, to be worth taking the colossal risk. He was about to say something himself when the one called Severus did it for him, in a heated rage. As the fool shouted about the Black Cube being used Zamiel was annoyed to find that he agreed, he would not see Terra fall through cheap sorcery. It would be destroyed in fire and blood and sacrifice, and Zamiel would stride through it all like a true Chaos Champion while the lesser vermin and the loyalists died all around him. It would be glorious. But then the worm's argument turned sour and Zamiel's ethereal mask displayed pure rage, the whelp was ungrateful for what the Apostle had given them. And then the worst, he accused Vilhelm of forgetting their gene-father's destiny and their path. While Zamiel had long ago lost respect for Perturabo and had come to regard men like Vilhelm who still waged the Eternal War as the true heroes of the Iron Warriors, he was still not about to brook this insult to his lord.

Zamiel snarled quietly as Severus publicly shamed the Apostle with his outburst, the smoke enveloping his body began to quiver with his rage at this offence. Questioning the Apostle was bad enough but to do it in front of the Thousand Sons, to show weakness before their erstwhile allies was an affront. Just as he was about to disembowel the filth for his lack of faith Zamiel could feel the will of the Apostle. He would handle this himself. Zamiel's shadow maw grinned malevolently as Severus was racked with pain before him and the Apostle began to vent his response in both words and visions. Watching the scum squirm was enjoyable, but as the Thousand Sons left without a word Zamiel's attention was stolen. Where were they going?, while Zamiel was confident that Vilhelm had thought it all out he was still wary of the Sorcerers. They would not just lie down and die like the Imperial maggots, they would fight back and this was assuming they did not know of the 8th's plan, they may already be aware and preparing for it. He needed more information, turning his head slightly to regard one of his warriors he gave his command. 'Follow them, learn what you can of their plans. And try to get a glimpse of the coffins contents.' The metallic guardian nodded imperceptibly and left, it would shadow the Thousand Sons and learn what it could of their inevitable reprisal, to call it betrayal and treachery wasn't accurate. They were not on the same side, not anymore. Plus.. that coffin had piqued the Exalted's curiosity, they seemed to regard it with reverence or wariness, they seemed so similar to Zamiel. Whatever was within was important to them, and thus important enough for Zamiel to care about whatever it was, and how he could annihilate it should the chance come.

As Vilhelm finished his punishment of the dog Severus Zamiel could not help wondering what had gone on in his head. He had seen the visions of the Apostle and they had not been pleasant. Stepping forward and casting a contemptuous smirk of his shadow-face to Severus, Zamiel spoke his thoughts, smoke curling around his body and his iron tail writhing as he spoke. *'Lord, while this dog's ungratefulness is astounding and his punishment not severe enough.... I am inclined to agree with him of the Thousand Sons. They see things differently then we do, for all we know they are aware of our plans and are already preparing their move. Thus we should assume just that until we can prove otherwise, they are the pets of the Red Cyclops's exile, they wont go down easily or without a fight.'*


----------



## Concrete Hero

The Obliterator had been silent to the Raptor Sergeant, he was preparing to speak when he heard the doors mighty mechanisms pulling it slowly open, his glowing eyes pulsed a bright red as he looked at Maximus once more, then he turned to view those leaving the command chamber.

He watched as the Captains Barok and Lynx walked together, the bulky terminator and the young Halfblood.

"Come with me child, you are to meet your new Terminator sergeant."

Prothor had fallen, that he already knew. He found it silently amusing that Barok referred to Lynx as Child, despite his rank. Though the Obliterator was aware of the youngest captains relationship with the others.

An earth shaking roar drew his attention towards the wide window that overlooked the battlefield. He almost felt giddy, if he could feel such a feeling, as he looked upon the God machines. The Obliterator didn't feel the same affinity with the Titans as he did the Cult, yet he was drawn to them. Their destructive power was almost unmatched, it was... Humbling.

His gaze slipped from the Titans and fell onto the Helgans, already digging trenches and fortifying their position. His mechanical eyes focused on the soldiers toiling away and a strange wash of nostalgia gripped him. He remembered a time when he was clad in grey and worked with his Brothers on the field, nothing but a rank and file Iron Warrior with a desire to impressive. Then older, watching over the Marines digging and hungry for more power.

He almost laughed, if he could of seen himself now, what would he have thought? A destructive force powered more by the warp and mechanics than by any organic matter.

In an almost physical wave, he felt the warp presence of the Black Apostle wash around him as it exuded from the inner chamber. He had almost forgotten Vilhelm's power, it made him consider his own place. He had achieved a comfortable place in the legion, though it had come at a cost. Though he was still a talented Techmarine, and certainly one of the oldest, he knew this was not what he was widely viewed as. Currently he didn't desire more power with the Eighth, or outside it. But he wasn't sure how he would achieve it if he did.

Almost as if the Apostle had heard his thoughts, he spoke to him. 

'*Brother, a shuttle will be arriving soon and I need those that are on it and the cargo that they have to be escorted here safely, go to the landing field and wait for them to arrive.*'

'_*Understood.*_'


---------


Redivivus walked ponderously as he approached the landing field. He walked alone, having instructed Falcis and Pangorax to remain outside the chamber. The sun glistened off his form in bright flashes as he strode. The third were gathered on this side of the plane, Lynx's warriors. He swept his gaze over them as he moved, some of the closer marines averted their gaze, but otherwise he moved undisturbed.

A bulkier figure caught his eye, and a wash of information flashed across his vision around the figure, though he already knew his name. So some of the first's Terminators were here, led by Fergus no less. Here to replace Prothor and his lost no doubt. He would have to pass this information to Severus, along with the Captain of the fourth trying to recruit his Raptors.

He reached the landing platform as a bright blue craft began to descend, billowing up the dust as it settled.

Not what Redivivus was expecting, though the arrival of the Sons of Magnus was indeed... Interesting. The sorcerer was the first to walk down the ramp, though Redivivus felt his warp presence before he saw him. Extravagantly dressed, like most of the arrogant Sons.

He watched the sorcerers entourage carry down a obsidian coffin and his intrigue was only piqued more. He was sure the Apostle knew what he was doing, but he couldn't help but feel unrest towards the Wytch. 


------


They all stood silently in the great elevator as it ascended the tower, Redivivus opened the empathic link between himself and his Cult Brothers.

-There is a Sorcerer here, a Son of Magnus.-

-Here? Interesting aid for the Black Apostle to call for.-

-Indeed, though the sorcerers are very specific help.-

-I do not trust them.-

-Most do not Falcis, though I am intrigued by their presence.-

-You are almost here Red.-

-Yes, the Elevator is practically done.-

And with that the curved doors pulled open, allowing the Obliterator to stand through the gathered Iron Warriors.

He enjoyed the tension in the room as he walked forward, the aggression between Maximus and Corius then the thick silence as their eyes fell upon the Sorcerer. The Thousand Son guided his charges into the room and disappeared behind the large closing mechanism. The Obliterator resumed his place as if he had never left, eyes flashing at Corius and Maximus.

-They seek each others throats.-

Redivivus didn't respond, he stared silently forward, waiting.


----------



## deathbringer

Fergus's voice was booming, a calm wave of serenity washing over him and Lynx embraced its balm. 

"The third are organized by squad?" he asked allowed his question directed by the smallest tilt of his head at Sabre.

From the corner of his eye he saw Lions eyes, narrowed, his mouth bearing the slightest twist, the distaste in his reflection magnified and grossly distorted in the curve of his second in commands. Lynx twisted and shot a warning glance at his bodyguard who met his gaze with cool warning, the massive fingers curling easily around the spear in his hands. 

Lion's eyes widened with hidden meaning before glancing ever so slightly at Fergus. Lion trusted few yet it appeared something about Fergus threatened Lion, was it something he had heard, lion was indeed well connected.

"They are captain"

"Each squad ready to move out?"

"As you ordered captain"

"Then once our orders are through we can immediately commence the conference and form the battle plan"

"No word from the General dissapoints me, we will have to rely upon the apostles information and scout the walls ourselves" Lynx's eyes met with Jag's who gave a grim nod.

Sabre spoke yet Lynx's mind was elsewhere, his eyes fixed upon the obliterators that strode through ther midst, yet his eyes locked upon there company

"Sorcerors" he muttered

Sabre gave a snarl and Cheetah spat upon the floor, Jag's cheek whitening slightly in rage.

"What are the second doing with such peddlers of sorcery? They may well be infected by the throws of chaos yet Severus is far to arrogant to ask for the help of sons of Magnus. No.... their is something more to this and I dont like it. I have never liked the chaotic rituals spreading like a canker through the ranks of our legion, I serve Gods amongst men, I serve the Apostle and Peturabo in there endeavour to see the emperor fall, I have no desire to be slave to another deity."

His eyes followed the sorceror's out of sight before turning back to Fergus and his honour guard. 

"Let us join the third to mourn our dead."

The third had formed a circle around the coffins of Prothor Ironfist, his form dressed in a pure white toga, the wounds upon his skin healed and patched their eyes closed, faces bearing the last vestiges of glorious combat.

Twas a silent circle and the honour guard filled the gap, standing alongside Fergus and lynx heard the slow regal voice of Jag

"Most respected Captain, if you would remain with us, amongst the third we have our own traditions, our own ways of honouring the dead."

Lynx walked onwards, leaving the rest behind, towards the torchlit faces of the coffins. 

"Prothor Ironfist," he spoke in a loud voice laden with the weight of his loss.

"His very name speaks of duty, relentless bravery, stoicism, loyalty. He was indeed the Ironfist of third. Now he lies dead."


"Hail to the dead."

A great roar of voices clamoured as the third echoed the call

"I said Hail to the dead"

A second roar, louder, more intense coupled by spouts of flame, bursts of plasma rocketing into the air like fireworks.

"Though in body he is gone his spirit remains among us. What does he call for..."

"Vengeance" came the united roar

"The hated enemy sits within the fortress we are about to beseige, thus we will unleash the righteous vengeance upon them."

"Curse the hated enemy"

"Curse" echoed the third 

"Smite in the name of the fallen"

"Smite the cursed enemy"

"Who for"


"For our Lord peturabo, the Apostle and in the name of our fallen comrade."

Now let us cleanse their spirits in the fires of flamer melta and plasma for nothing is impossible. An iron warrior may be flesh but his spirit is iron, we will release the spirits of our fallen and carry them within us in the coming battle.

He raised his plasma cannon aiming it at the coffin, bowing his head he fired, a greating roaring explosion racked the coffins. The solemn face of Prothor Ironfist burned away as a tear rolled down his cheek.

His voice was hoarse low and filled with a sudden stoic feeling, the desire for vengeance pulsing through his soul.

"There spirits are with us, now the third must go to the war..... vengeance calls us"


----------



## Euphrati

It had been millenniums since Severus had known pain such as the burning wrath that drove him to the unforgiving floor. He had tasted the draught of Chaos, gained the blessings that beat in his mercurial veins, yet for all of his power he was still decidedly mortal when faced with the strength of the being that towered above him.

The Black Apostle’s anger was a physical pressure against his mind, searing through his very soul with every beat of his twin hearts. He was dimly aware of the whimpering of Shattersoul as Oathbreaker’s haft slipped from his convulsing fingers. Severus’ thoughts were diamond edged even as the daemon that was once his brother leaned in close to speak to him, bitterness cutting him deeply as he realized he had been uninformed in his assumptions. 

Little beyond rumours were known about the devices known only as black cubes and much of that stemmed from a Legion renowned for its subterfuge; none of those rumours had ever pointed to the ability for this ultimate weapon to be used more than once. His ignorance was more painful than anything the Black Apostle could have done to his mind or body. Severus knew he had overstepped in his rage against the inclusion of the Thousand Sons; though some part of him recognized that Vilhelm should have expected such a reaction from him and, in the darkest shadow of his soul, a thread of burning resentment flared with a killing brightness.

Severus had known the moment he laid eyes upon the young aspirant named Vilhelm that the dark adolescent would become legend, and he had not been wrong. He had served Vilhelm faithfully for over ten thousand years, delivered worlds to the feet of his appointed Warsmith and stood by his side as the Dark Ones turned their eyes and blessings upon the glories of the Eighth. He had rejoiced in the ultimate reward of his brother as he watched Vilhelm ascend into the ranks of the Princes of Chaos. That moment had been not only a blessing upon the Warsmith and his company, but an opportunity for another to rise to the throne in his wake… until the unthinkable happened. Vilhelm had refused to relinquish his title of Warsmith over the Eighth. 

In that single action, everything had changed.

Vilhelm had denied him the moment he had work and bled for over ten thousand years. Denied him the one thing he craved beyond the destruction of the fallen Imperium: power. The newly risen deamon prince, the young marine he had a hand in training, had deprived him of the chance to achieve what Vilhelm himself had just surmounted. _Severus could never forgive the Dark Apostle, the creature his brother had become, for that moment._

The pain subsided, lingering in his soul like a salted wound as Severus drew in a hissing breath. Slowly his limbs returned to his control and his hand found the haft of Oathbreaker, gripping the skin-bound weapon as he climbed back to his feet before the towering daemon prince. Black blood seeped from the corner of his lip and down his chin; Severus ignored the trickle and drew himself back up to his full height. The low growl of his voice was emotionless and cold, for humbleness was an emotion forgotten to Severus,

‘Never once have I failed you in ten thousand years, my Warsmith. _Never once_ have I delivered you anything but absolute victory upon a task you have set before me. You know the desires in my heart as well as your own… do you condemn me for them? It was _You _who placed them there...’

Severus’ armour gave a faint growl that echoed its master as he turned to tread heavily out the room, pointedly ignoring the Apostle’s twisted lapdog of a guard. Anger burned with the heat of a supernova in his mind, seeking an outlet for the primal need to destroy. Severus paused at the door and turned his steel-grey mortal eye back upon the horrific from of the prince,

‘I will lay this world at your feet, brother, as I have avowed to you. Do as you will with Maximus, he is no longer a member of the Second and if I cross him on the field of battle I _will _kill him,’

Severus turned back to the yawning mouth of the doorway, speaking into the darkness,

‘But know this Vilhelm, you are not the only one who seeks greatness… do not deny me that destiny.’

With that, Severus thundered into the coiling shadows of the very bastion he had placed upon the altar for the Dark Apostle. _Something would bleed for his anger, for his pain… for his deprived triumph._


----------



## unxpekted22

The Raptors obeyed him now as well, a little hesitant he had to admit but compliant all the same. Velos and those left of his squad, which were only two, lined up next to each other.

He asked Velos about his status and what had happened to his squad. It wasn't so much that he cared, but it would pass the time while waiting for his Captain.


----------



## Deus Mortis

The elevator door sliding open broke the vicious silence that had descended on the hallway. What Luminus or Aresk was thinking Corius couldn't tell, but one thing he was sure of was that Maximus was having the same thoughts as him; ones of vicious murder and the brutal killing of one another. These arcs of murderous intent arced between the two and struck the walls and the other people here, and exploded in raging intentions that was tangible to everyone here. Redivivus and his cadre stood there as immobile guards, even as the volume in the room continued to mount first was the bitterness of Severus, but the words he said were unclear to Corius. Then came the binding rage of the Black Apostle, and certain words were clear to Corius;_The Cube, Thousand Sons, That is why_ and many other words that spoke of his absolute authority. Then the bitter and scorned voice of Severus cut through the silence like a knife. _"Never once have I failed you in ten thousand years, my Warsmith. Never once have I delivered you anything but absolute victory upon a task you have set before me. You know the desires in my heart as well as your own… do you condemn me for them? It was You who placed them there...'_ 

Corius realized that these words echoed his own thoughts. His record was flawless before anyone who saw it. Him and his men had been together since before the crusade against the Hrud, each had a score of wounds, but they were all still alive, unlike Maximus' halfbreeds who seemed to die every battle. The doors cracked open, and a thin beem of light shone through, and through it Corius could make out the forms of the Black Apostle, his guard and Severus. _"I will lay this world at your feet, brother, as I have avowed to you. Do as you will with Maximus, he is no longer a member of the Second and if I cross him on the field of battle I will kill him"_ *I too* Corius though. If his captain could make such a statement, he would make the same one. That was if Maximus survived to see the next battle. Then, the doors flew open in earnest, and Serverus came out in a rage. He passed Corius without uttering a word, and spoke once again to the Apostle _"But know this Vilhelm, you are not the only one who seeks greatness… do not deny me that destiny."_ Corius was torn. He had been ordered to guard and escort Luminus, but he had battle preparations to do and now Severus had left, Corius was confused as to where he was supposed to do. His head darted backwards between the Apostles chamber and the rapidly disappearing figure of Severus. He looked to the Apostle and silently asked what he was to do, and the Apostle responded with a slight incline of his head, telling him to follow Severus. Corius bowed quickly to the Apostle and spoke to each of them "Luminus, blessings upon our next battle, and I hope we meet again" And with that he shook the sorcerer's hand. "Captain Aresk, it's always a pleasure" And he bowed to the Captain. He merely looked at Maximus, a look of utter contempt and wrath. He had many insults prepared in his head, and many action he could do, but none were wise or could sum up his true anger. Instead, he merely spat at his feet and ran after his captain. When he caught up with Severus, the fires of rage radiated off him, and Corius spoke tentativly "Sir what are the Thousand Sons doing here? And I heard the Apostle mention a Cube, is that to do with the generator I found?" Corius knew he was walking on eggshells, but he was curious, and when he next got a chance to ask, it may well be equally inappropriate or risky...


----------



## dark angel

Steam vented from the shoulders of Pavor’s chassis, great warm gouts of ashen coloured smoke. They were still standing in the interior of the Dreadnaught-Carrier, a modified vessel of grey and silver. Chains swaddled back and forth as it banked and twisted and Pavor realised that they were for the maddened brethren within the Eighth. A group of bulky Servitors hustled across the decking before Pavor and he wanted to strike out, to lash their heads from their hunched forms. When it landed the ramp collapsed onto the ground and a puff of dust flipped in the air before them, the pair of massive Dreadnaughts casually strolled down. 

They marched towards a centre of a series of spider webs carved into the earth, each one a deep trench filled with bustling figures. Pavor flexed his wrist as one ran into his way and the man collapsed backwards, the uniform of his chest dangling in unaligned tatters. The centre was risen from the remainder of the ground so that the Dreadnought-Lord had an elevated view of the battlefield, and Pavor once again found himself wondering. 

‘You are withholding something, Lord Shamesu. We are brethren, abandoned to these metal husks.’ He eloquently twisted his giant wrist and traced one claw across his chest ‘There is no need for secrets amongst us. I refuse to talk amongst the living souls, they are depraved and crazed. They do not realise that they hold the gift of a touching, feeling form. I _hate_ them for it.’


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

[ok guys sorry for the long wait but we had a few incidents at work, here we go]

Maximus: You and Aresk are both called into the Apostle's chambers where your fate is to be decided. Aresk gives a wonderous speech on how his company needs a skilled warrior such as yourself yet when the Apostle agrees to letting you join his company it seems as though he has an alterior motive in mind that he is not letting on. The two of you are dismissed and you follow Aresk to where the Fourth is assembling where you meet a young sergeant by the name of Eisen who has assembled the misfit raptors for Aresk's inspection.

You realize that all the raptors here are very unlike you and the remainder of your squad, all of them have melded with their armor and become one, while you and your men still remain with the older suits and bulkier jetpacks. You are given command of another sergeant named Velos, a tall raptor with claws on his hands and feet and green eyepieces, and his two men, three other raptors who do not speak but merely nod at you, and a lone raptor named Hassan. 

You are told to get to know them in the few hours that you have before the Fourth finally moves out. 

Eisen: As you gather the raptors and take note on their performances Aresk arrives with a different looking Raptor sergeant and his men. They are not attached and melded to their armor like the rest, in fact they look like the older pics you had seen of the ancient warriors from the old raptor corps before the Heresy. Aresk thanks you for performing this duty for him and tells you to go and ready your squad.

Luminus: After the raptor and Aresk leave the Apostle's chambers you are called inside, he speaks with you on what you believe the machine's purpose is and he agrees, it has been used by the Imperium to keep the cube on this world in check. For now it will be kept on to prevent the coming siege from activating it, but once the world has been taken it will be deactivated. He thanks you for your timely arrival and asks a favor of you, during the siege you will be attached to the Thousand Sons cadre, he wishes for you to keep an eye on them, yet he asks that as each one dies on the battlefield you mumble eight words of chaos. He tells you these words but not what they are supposed to do, waving his claw you leave and head towards where the Thousand Sons are mustering.

Severus: As you leave you vaguely recognize Corius following you, speak with him if you want it is your choice but make it quick because once you reach where your men are mustering a messanger from the Helghans comes to you telling you that you and your men are late in getting out to the trenches. Vent your anger on him if you wish but move out as soon as you are finished.

[ok so the following update is for everyone, the ones above are getting those people to where they need to be to be able to fit into this update]
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Lynx: You and the Third are taking cover in the Third Line behind walls of pounded dirt and reinforced steel. Whines and whistles can be heard as mortars and other rounds are fired at you from the walls of the mighty fortress in front of you, forward scouts had detected and marked positions where Imperial Fists space marines had been seen rallying the defenders. The sky above you is dark with exhaust from the Eighth's siege engines and artillery pieces, the constant booming of thier guns making an eerie yet calming music with those of the Imperials'.

Fergus and his men are to your right, thier mighty terminator armor allowing them to stand upright and view the battle without much fear of getting blown to pieces. Your command squad is to your left, and the rest of your men are spread out along the Third Line, some firing their weapons and others simply ducking and waiting for the time when the charge will be sounded. Behind you you can see elements of the Fourth manning huge autocannons and lascannons from redoubts set along the Second Line, the raptors of the Fourth poking their heads just above the trenchline ready to charge at a moment's notice.

Thel and his titans stand amidst the First and Second Lines firing their weapons at weak points in the walls, the Helghans mixing in amongst the many astartes that either fired their weapons or hunkered down. Just past Fergus and his men you can see the Thousand Sons cadre, the automatons taking up defensive positions much like your men but the sorceror stood straight, his arms crossed as he waited. How do you feel about having them amongst your warriors? You see another sorceror with them, yet he is an Iron Warrior, likely sent by the Apostle to watch over Magnus's Sons. This will be your first time leading a charge, let alone taking place in one that is going up the center, how do you feel about this? If you wish take potshots at soldiers on the wall, you can try to hit the Fists but you wont.

Luminus: You and the Thousand Sons have been attached to the Third who are to take the charge up the center once a breach is made. You have your orders from the Apostle and so you watch over the Thousand Sons, the sounds of the epic siege taking place around filling your ears. The automatons take cover like the cowards they are, they were never capable of this kind of warfare, yet the sorceror who you learned was named Hathor Maat, stands tall and unafraid of the rounds that pepper the Iron Warriors' trenches. 

The Eighth's artillery and siege engines fire ceasesly at the enemy walls along with the guns of mighty titans. You had heard the scout reports of the Imperial Fists being here and had seen a few of the Sons of Dorn already rallying the defenders of the fortress's walls, they would fall all the same. How long has it been since you have been in a siege? How long since you had fought alongside brothers from not only another Grand Company but another legion? As you think on these things and wait for a breach you see a spike in the warp, a bright light moving quickly along the walls, a librarian?

Maximus: You and your new squad hunker down in the Second Line behind the Third and wait to give them support when they get the order to charge. Behind you towers a redoubt equipped with two autocannons and manned by a squad from the Fourth, the two massive guns firing at distant targets on the wall. Back here you aren't getting as much of the fire from the guns on the walls as the men in the Third line but you are indeed getting more mortars and artillery shells. 

The ground is constantly shuddering as Thel's titans and the Eighth's artillery and siege engines pound the fortress from their positions. Above your head you can see tracer rounds pinging off of the trenches' defenses and different redoubts, yet a single round is all it takes to cook some ammo that is in the right place. You hear a mortar round whistling in from above you and order your men to take cover, the round rockets down from above but instead of hitting inside the trench it somehow almost threads its way into the firing slit of the redoubt behind you and explodes causing most of the front of the redoubt to collapse.

The men inside fight to get the autocannons back into place and after a few heart pounding seconds they do, yet once they start firing another round pierces the thick black cloud above and flies right into the massive hole and explodes right in the middle of the astartes. The mortar kills most of them instantly and blows limbs off of others, but the heat it had caused cooks the autocannon ammo and they all explode, the whole redoubt going up in flames and debris.

Eisen: You are attached to Aresk himself and he now leads you and your men, the honor that you have is enormous. You are located to the far right of the fortress's massive walls alongside the warriors of the First and Barok himself, he stands in front of you and Aresk in the Third Line flanked by the most veteran warriors of the Eighth. A siege this size is anathema to you, you have fought with the Eighth in multiple sieges yes but never in one where the whole of the Eighth Grand was present along with their auxilery units like the Helghans and the Titans. 

This is your first large battle agains the Imperium of Man, the only one this size you had taken part in being against the Tau, and to add to it you, your men, and Aresk are all equipped with jetpacks. You had had training when you were inducted but you have never fought using one since then, how do you feel about his new item? You have been told it is only for this battle, it allowing you and your men to follow Aresk onto the walls instantly and provide the support needed when it was needed. 

Yet how do you feel about having to fly through the air when it is filled with not just artillery and mortar rounds but also autocannon and anti-infantry shells flying at high speeds across great distances? Also you will be fighting alongside two of the greatest warriors of the Eighth, your own captain Aresk, but the mighty Barok himself. The ground shakes and the very air around you is charged with the tension of waiting for the Titans and siege engines to make a breach.

Corius: You and your men are to the far left of the fortress's mighty walls, behind you elements of the Fourth are either manning the guns in the redoubts or waiting to cover you when you charge. Above your scaley head rounds fly from behind and in front of you and impact with loud explosions and bright flares, Thel's titans and the Eighth's siege and artillery engines firing endlessly at the enemy. Each hit on the walls from one of the titans would end in a huge explosion, an enemy gun emplacement and chunk of the wall taken in the explosion.

You had read the reports of the Imperial Fists being present and had not believed it until you had seen the bright yellow plate for yourself running about among the defenders. Your most ancient of enemies was here, present on the battlefield, and waiting for you to show them how the Iron Warriors dealt with those that stood in thier way. To your left you could see Severus and to your right stood the mighty Redivivus and his bretheren, the epitome of destruction, the perfect combination of man and machine and warp.

You hear a mighty roar and turn to see Shamesu flanked by four dreadnoughts, each of the four ancients' limbs dragging thick chains that were used to bind them when not in combat. Shamesu's huge plasmacannons and attached auto-cannons firing methodically at points in the wall, each one more then likely killing a target, the mighty dreadnought's massive chassis dwarfing even those of the ancients' around him.

Redivivus: You and your brothers stand in the Third Line waiting amonst the other warriors of the Second for a breach to be made and the order to charge. You occasionally add your considerable firepower to that of your brothers when a target presents itself, the overpowering crescendo being made by the thousands of guns firing at the same time or one right after the other making you want to go insane. On the walls you can see sporadic glimpses of bright yellow plate and know that your most hated of enemies the Imperial Fists are aiding the defenders of this fortress, they know that the Eighth will have what it desires.

You hear a massive roar and turn to see Shamesu flanked by four other dreadnought ancients, all of his weapons firing at points in the walls, the resulting explosions taking multiple lives, Shamesu's massive chassis dwarfing those of the other ancients alongside him.

Pavor: You walk alongside Shamesu and three other ancients, making your way from trenchline to trenchline, sap to sap until finally stopping right behind the Third line where the Second is located. All of Shamesu's weapons are firing at points in the wall, explosions marking where Imperials die instantly, and one of the other ancients is firing his own auto-cannon at the defenders.

You can take sporadic shots if you wish but you are waiting for the order to charge and back up Severus when he and his men take the breach. Above and around you guns are firing and explosions are blooming, the ground shakes with each titan weapon firing and the sky above is covered in a black haze that emits an eerie glow. Suddenly a loud boom coming from behind you shakes your chassis followed by a wave of heat that washes over the back of your chassis and yours sensors indicate that an ammo storage area had been hit by a mortar. Your sensors also catch glimpses of bright yellow plate running about on the walls, your most hated enemies are present here on this world, the Imperial Fists.

Severus: You are located to the far left with the rest of your men in the Third Line waiting for a breach to be made. The sounds of the siege are horrific and the very earth shakes with the explosions blooming not only on the walls but also amongst the trenches. The Imperials' fire is becoming more telling as they begin to find their ranges and more and more redoubts are getting glancing hits or close calls as the defenders' mortars rain down on the Eighth. 

Thel's titans fight to make breaches as do the Eighth's siege and artillery engines and elements of the Fourth man the guns in the redoubts, Aresk's Raptor Corps dotting the trenches of the Second Line waiting to support the First, Second, and Third. As you wait you can see bright spots of yellow battle plate on the walls and know that the Sons of Dorn are present making this coming breach all the more enticing. Are you still angered at what had happened with the Apostle? Are you determined to prove your worth in the coming charge of the breaches? 

As you think on this you hear a mighty roar and turn to see Shamesu, all of his weapons firing, flanked by four other ancients, his mighty chassis dwarfing them all. It had truly been centuries since the Apostle's second in command had actually taken to the battlefield and to see him now with all of his systems online and running was a sight indeed. Plasma and auto-cannons blazed as his power fists and drill powered up, readying themselves for the coming charge, how do you feel about him supporting you and your men in the coming charge? 

One of the Eighth's ammo depots was hit by a mortar round and it blew part of the Second Line's trench system to hell with it, the resulting blast sending a massive shockwave towards and through the men of the Second.

Akakios: You stand now with your brothers inside the cockpit of the ancient warlord titan the Dominator, you have been ordered to lead a select group of veterans that have been stationed within the Titan. Once a breach is made the Dominator will advance and allow you and those that you lead onto the fortress's walls, but for now you are watching the siege from the window in the cockpit. The mighty titan shakes as its weapons fire and you can feel the power that such a machine holds on the battlefield, explosions cropping up where its rounds hit, each target destroyed by the blasts. 

As you watch the battle below and read the information coming across on a holoscreen an image crops up and you pause it and take it in, it is an astartes in yellow battleplate standing on the wall, his head turned behind him looking at something behind the walls, and his finger pointing directly at the Dominator. You cock your head as you wonder why he is in such a strange position and what he could possibly be looking at.

Zamiel: You are standing about fifty yards away from the Apostle on a rock outcropping on the mountains to the left of the fortress. The Apostle is watching the battle below, the view provided by the cliffs giving him the perfect angle to watch the battle. Yet why he is up here and not down there is a mystery and you can even feel the rest of his elite guard wondering why you are all up here, yet now is not the time to ask questions. There is silence save for the distant rumble of the siege yet suddenly you hear something and turn your head to stare at the Apostle, in front of him you can barely see the figure of an Astartes. 

He is somewhat short but very thick, his ocean blue eyes staring into those of the Apostle's as they speak to each other. He looks familiar but you can't put a finger on it, before you can make a move a tentacle of warpstuff comes out of the Apostle's back and he hands the Astartes a worn Imperial Fists helm. The warrior nods before suddenly disappearing, although you want to ask the Apostle who that warrior was he turns to you and says, *"Come Zamiel, we must teleport back to the battle, the breaches will be made soon."*


[Ok guys sorry for the length but hopefully it is to your liking]


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## dark angel

‘He is glorious’ rasped the Dreadnaught, Iapetus. 

His rotted face protruded from his chest chassis, a screaming image stamped into the hull itself. Chains were looped around his shoulders and trophy racks containing skulls, clumps of meat and shreds of armour punched into the sky. Both of his hands were clawed around a inbuilt flamer that crisped them easily. Wires laced his front and almost hid the giant bloody print that rested there, so that only shocking dashes of scarlet could be seen from beneath.

‘He is’ Pavor offered quietly, staring at the giant form of Shamesu as he sent a wave of fire at the vast wall of the Imperial Fortress-City.

‘It is amazing how they stand reliant, not showing us fear’ intoned Koios as he scuttled forwards on his four clawed legs, pistons venting steam. 

Pink muscles, raw and dripping blood, bulged in several places and the armour which contained his bloated form was creaking and dripping with sick vitae. His face was draped beneath a horned helm that screamed blasphemies when Koios did not speak, its mouth-grate far too large. Both of the eyes were angled orange hued slits, staring with malicious intent. With one hooked finger he indicated the wall which figures scuttled upon.

‘They, are mine’ was all he said and Pavor was forced to look up. A dash of yellow, rounded yet bulky was running low across the battlements. Pavor felt his body writhe with anticipation. He felt his nerves 

‘Fists of Dorn!’ roared Astraeus and stepped forward, his long barrelled Auto-Cannon spooling loudly. 

Rounds whipped forth, howling with sheer rage and struck a pair of defenders, opening them up in balls of gore. Astraeus was perhaps the most sane of the Dreadnaughts bar Shamesu himself, and once he had held the rank of Sergeant within the Legion. His helm was a battered and misshapen thing that was lit with embedded candles, both of the green eyes had long since melded into one cyclopean form. His other arm was hidden beneath a giant Chain-Weapon that howled furiously, the adjoined Daemonic Entity within longing for blood.

‘Bastard Sons!’ bellowed Pavor, his voice carrying across the battlefield ‘You will bleed for me!’

The trio of accompanying Dreadnaughts all burst out into a mechanic laughter and spun on their mid-joints to face Pavor, who was panting heavily within.

‘If there is two things I hate’ began Iapetus ‘The Imperial Fists rank second’ 

‘And the first, Ancient Brother?’ asked Astraeus, his voice glowering. 

‘The first is you Astraeus. The first is you.’ came the retort, however Pavor spoke this. They all chuckled again, louder this time. 

The four had served together for a long time. In the six thousand years that Pavor had been an Iron Warrior he had met many a Interred-Brethren, but these were the best of the best. Koios had previously been a member of the First Company, a esteemed one at that, and he had shown great potential until a Brother had turned his own weapons upon him in a jealous rage. Iapetus was the most venerable of the Dreadnaughts present bar Shamesu himself, and he was one of the few who still clung to perfect sanity. Astraeus had once been a member of the Third Company when Goudon had still reigned. When the Half-Bastard had arisen to leader; Astraeus had simply wandered between the Companies.

The famed Dreadnaughts of the Eighth, perhaps the best that the Iron Warriors could offer. Koios was one of the most ferocious, his bloodlust untamed. Too become his handler was a death sentence. Yet while in contact with his fellow Dreadnaught-Brethren, he was a quiet and surprisingly warm being. Pavor knew what hurt Koios the most. It was the fact that he would never get to take his vengeance upon the dog who had all-but destroyed his body. That was because the name was lost to the annals of time. Koios simply vented his anger during battle, his screeching vox-grill carrying his pains across the field of battle. He was death incarnate, a monstrosity that would assure your death.

‘I am growing agitated by this tirade, can we not advance?’ came the wheezing voice of Iapetus and as Pavor was about to answer something immensely warm, trailed by a quivering shockwave rolled over his form.

Pavor spun to face a giant flame of black-orange entwine upwards, crackling with small pinpricks of light. The Iron Warrior spun his wrist around and flexed his fingers, feeling warmth radiate from the pyre. The crumpled heaps of Iron Warriors, their armour scorched and rent lay in apparent intervals, between them the blackened forms of Helgan Guardsmen lay, disheveled and sickening masses of smoking flesh. Pavor grinned and spun back around to face his fellows.

'A pity that such things are lost so easily' Pavor said quietly, tutting beneath his metal-flesh.

‘Severus….’ muttered Iapetus as he looked at the mighty Captain of the Second, still firing his weapon in a panning motion.

‘It is not wise to ill-speak such a great Astartes Iapetus’ warned Koios briskly and his form trembled as if touched by an icy wind. The fear of Severus was a mighty one amongst the Eighth, although Pavor knew Koios feared the sensation of death more than the Captain himself.

‘He is a pig-ignorant cur’ hissed Astraeus in a strong retort, and Koios simply looked at his Brother. 

The war was coming. The five Dreadnaughts would march together as one, something which they had not done in an age. Death would be met this day. And for some incomprehensible reason, Pavor was already howling.


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## unxpekted22

The raptors continued to comply, and were ready for Aresk when he arrived. He brought him raptors who appeared to actually know something about what they were doing, soldiers with purpose and most likely were meant to lead these broken squads now that the fools once among them were now amongst the dead.

Eisen knelt before his captain, horned head bowed with his remaining men behind him. He was under the shadow of rank once again. More chances to prove himself, and what better way than to fly in for once, he thought as he strapped the jetpack on and secured it in place. He looked at his men, iron warriors, chaos marines. He knew they were ready as well. They had gotten past the initial defense, and this one would be even better.

Barok was there as well, along with every other force of the Eighth. A shiver shot down Eisen's neck as he caught a glimpse of his past, running through the bottom streets of his hivecity homeworld...always running from something. Somehow every day he would find his way back to his own hole in the place where night and day were no different as the shadows of buildings scraping the atmosphere were always cast. He always made it back to the books, the scrolls, the files on the Iron Warriors and the great Eighth company.

Now the company in its entirety stood before him. One day, he would stand before _it_.

"_Ready to jump into hell boys?_" Eisen said to his squad, looking at the looming Titans. He chuckled before saying, _"Looks like we get to mock the Angels of Death today. Fly in...and kill, everything"_


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## Masked Jackal

Luminus felt a bright spot of nostalgia in his mind as he surveyed the scene of the battle, the once-familiar pattering of gunfire, the boom of artillery, the whine in his ear, as poorly aimed rounds whizzed by his head. It served to remind him how long it had been since his last true fight.

The sorcerer in front of him, one Hathor Matt, seemed similarly unafraid of the fire peppering their lines, though his empty-armored minions hunkered down for cover despite the lack of flesh in their bodies. Perhaps Hathor, like Luminus, gave his life to chance in this venture, letting Tzeentch decide the way.

His orders were strange, and smelled of knowledge Luminus didn't have. The Black Apostle bid him to speak eight words of chaos as each of these servants of Tzeentch died. This promised sorcery of some sort, and a building of power. Luminus looked forward to that.

Regardless, here they were, two sorcerers, speaking not with words, but by actions. Neither of them were afraid of the pitiful rabble defending these walls, though there were a small few who might be worthy of crushing under their heels. The Imperial Fists.

Luminus first heard of them as he departed the company of the Apostle. Some scouting party, babbling of their almost golden yellow armor. The Space Marines of the corpse-god weren't what they once were, but they were certainly still a challenge.

Abruptly, this train of thought took on a more immediate feeling. "Ahh, one of their...librarians...shall we test his knowledge and skill, Hathor?" A psychic duel was long in the waiting for Luminus, he relished the chance to unfurl his old skills once again. Yet another good reason for coming here.


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## Deus Mortis

(OCC: I've managed to get an internet connection, and so will post, but don't expet regular updates from me as I'm on holiday for the next 3 weeks. Bav, you already have a PM about this, but this is more as an open statement to stop anyone trying to interact with me, as I may not ba able to respond for a while.)

Corius and Severus walked down the hallway, Severus seeming to be in no mod for answering Corius' petty concerns. They walked for several minutes until they reached the area where the Second were mustering their strength. A Helghan approached them and told Severus that him and the Second were late. Severus' anger was tangible, and if he was going to release it, Corius didn't want be around when that happened. Instead, he bowed curtly and spoke sharply "I will await your orders on the battlefield my Lord." And with that he turned and left. If the captain wished to speak to him, he would call him back, but Corius doubted it, knowing well enough that his Captain had more important matters to attend to. Instead, Corius' forked tongue slid in and out in a heart beat, searching for the scent of his men. The impressive receptors on his tongue told him that they were gathered to left, and so Corius walked swiftly in that direction. Celux was feeding a fresh drum of ammunition into his reaper autocannon, Desin was fitting a full promethium tank into his heavy flamer, and Mithras and Ares were feeding fresh bolter rounds into their weapons. Desin was the first to note Corius' approach, and stood upright and at attention. The rest followed suit as their sergeant approached. "Iron within" Corius said calmly as he approached. "Iron without" his squad replied and stood at ease, and resumed the last of their battle preperations. Corius walked up to Desin "What news do you have for me Desin?" Corius asked. He had missed the briefings for escorting Luminus, and now was asking to be caught up. "Well sir, we move out soon to join the Helghans in the treaches. Thel and his titans have already made their was, and are probably pounding the walls as we speak. We have just finished our battle preperations, and have secured additional platine for you left shoulder guard" Corius glanced at his shoulder, and realised that there still was a gapping hole from the autocannon fire in the room leading down to the machine. He had forgotten about it, but was pleased Desin had remembered. If he had of had to find that plating now, it would waste time they did not have. "Thankyou Desin. Anything else?" Corius said, picking up the plate of absidian black metal and begining to fix it to his shoulder. "There is one last thing sir. There have been reports that the Fists are here, bolstering the defences" Corius' head snapped to glare at Desin. "Fists? Here?" Corius hissed. "That's what the reports said sir." Desin replied calmly, either to cool his sergeants ire, or because he was oblivious to it. "I'll believe it when I have their bastard blood dripping from my claws" Corius spat, and returned to his work. "Come, let us go. We are late already"

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Corius stood to the far left of the fortress walls. To his left was Severus, his face creased in a rage. Whether because he still resented the Apostles decision to employ the sorcerer's of Magnus, of simple because the thought of and Imperial lapdog still living in that dammed fortress infuriated him, Corius couldn't be sure. But what he was sure of, was he almost felt a glimer of remorse for whatever fool god between him and his objective. And to his right, Redivivus and his cadre of oblitorators stood, thier fusion of metal and flesh beautiful and terrible to behold. The guns that grew out of their arms and shoulders lanced blaful energies or armour peircing munitions into the walls of the fortress. Thel's titans and the Eighth's artillery pounded the walls, great explosions pluming out of the walls as chuncked of stone metal and flesh came away from them. Suddenly, a flash of yellow on the walls. Corius blinked to clear his vision, and refused to believe his own eyes, until it happened again. As if seeing one flash of yellow had made his eyes more receptive to the colour, he saw eight or so more dots of yellow colour the walls. He hadn't believed the reports when he was told of them by Desin, but now his own eyes confirmed it. The Fists of Dorn, the epitome of his hate that made his feud with Maximus seem like a trivial tiff, where here. The Eighth's, no, the Iron Warriors most dispised enemies were here to try and prevent the justice visited upon them by the Eighth. Corius howled a cry of vengence and of hate that barely regestered above the din of the explosions and gunfire. Corius almost laughed at the irony of him using the stolen claws of the Fists to slay the bastard Sons of Dorn.

Even over the vast roar of gunfire, and through the red mist of his hate, Corius heard a mighty roar. Him, and several other of the line, turned to see the mighty Shamesu pounding the walls with all the weapons at his disposal. And flanking him were four other anchients, other Dreadnoughts which had been called together to aid their lord. Each on had chains drapped from it, chains that used to hold them down and stop them from rending members of the Eighth. But such restraints were lose now, and the full wrath of these insane beasts was about to be let lose on the lapdogs of the Imperium. All around Corius, bullets and lances of energies flew. Explosino plumed and pieces of wall crumbled. Gathered here, on this plain, was the full fury of the Eighth Grand Company of the Iron Warriors. All around him stood mighty warriors, each one armed to the teeth with instruments of war and seige-craft, and each one ready to kill the loyalist scum on the other side of the walls. Within the Imperium, there was a saying; "The Emperor protects". No one on this side of the walls believed that anymore, realising that the False Emperor is nothing more than a rotting corpse. But for the sake of the defenders, thay had better hope that thier False Emperor protected them, for no mortal man could stand before the full fury of the Eighth and hope to speak of it again...


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## Lord of the Night

Zamiel was incensed, it was taking all his self-control not to rage out at the Apostle for this. They were both on the mountains adjacent to the fortress, below the Iron Warriors were fighting against the bastard Sons of Dorn. Zamiel hated the Imperial Fists no more then any other of the False Emperor's dogs, the rivalry and hatred between both Legions was something that others took seriously, Zamiel loathed all loyalists equally. And yet he stood up here, watching the common grunts fighting the loyalist Astartes while he and his new warriors stood here and watched. It was humiliating.

Zamiel watched the Apostle, the silence was palpable, even more so then the rumble of artillery and the shudder of impacts against the pathetic Imperial defences, Zamiel would soon show them just how fallible their protection was, and that their Emperor's walls would not keep them safe. He was about to finally voice his discontent, which was rapidly giving way to rage, to Lord Vilhelm but he could see something, no someone talking to the Apostle. It was a short but stockish Astartes with very thick eyes, the colour of Olympia's oceans, or at least what Zamiel hazily remembered of Olympia. The Apostle handed him something, a helmet belonging to the Imperial scum, but before Zamiel could inquire the figure disappeared. The Possessed marine was confused but quickly lost interest once the artillery started again, he had to be down there soon, to slaughter and mayhem. The Apostle turned and answered Zamiel's hopes, they were to war. *'Yes Lord, I thirst for Imperial blood,'* he answered, ready to follow his Lord anywhere.


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## deathbringer

Giants stood before him, flashes of light emerging, beams of energy smiting the walls. Sounds, each distinguishable, the thump and boom of mortors, the low hum of a plasma gun. Each machine of war spoke to him, a loving rythmic language coupled by flashes and bangs. Oh lords of iron this was the part of war he loved, the dramatic dance the tooing and froing, the answer and riposte of guns.

Behind him the worth manned cannons, their weapons joining the barrage yet it seemed aimless there fire unstructured, unguided, he loathed it. Aresk was indeed a witless worm to allow his men to fire so, and he felt a spark of anger that those upon the wall would think the iron warriors so devoid of guile, so devoid of leadership that they would fire in such a fashion.

No cross weaves, no movement, no direct firing lanes, no lances across the titans, no co-ordination. He spat upon the ground, his phlegm slapping the iron clad wall close to the solemn group of terminators. Fergus stood astride the barricade unflinching in the fire storm, the huge bulk of his armour shielding him from harm.

He hated this, wished he was manning the guns, wished the third where supporting yet the honour to the third, the apostle silent appraisal. They were going up the middle, leading the charge, mercy such an honour. His honour, he could not fail he would not.

He could feel something, a pendulum swinging, turning in the breeze his whole life swinging one way or another based on this moment, upon this charge.

His eyes fell over the ranks of third arranged by squad as he preferred. He knew his plan, front rank, his honour guard, Fergus and the close combat specialists, the short rangers, the flamers, heavy flamers, the plasma guns, melta guns would charge. In the second trench they'd duck amongst the titans. Behind them the heavy bolters, the lascannons autocannons would open fire upon the wall. Move up to the first, a second volley, then charge into the breach. It was perfect, there foe supressed by sheer weight of fire by sheer mass, they'd arrive as a seemless wave upon a foe shattered by bolt rounds, diving from the rubble to face a mass charge. Once inside they'd move through a seemless mass, a mass of fire and steel and into the fortress where the fists awaited them. 

Where glory and destiny would be fufilled, where he would prove his soul was truly iron

His eyes moved further to those not of iron. To those of magics and sorcery, peddlers of chaotic arts. He saw another, an iron warrior there amongst them and he scowled at the way he adressed the sorceror. The thousand sons sat amongst his midst and there own would engage with that scum, talk and jest with them. Saliva turned to ashes and he spat once more, Lion turning slightly at his display of distaste, his eyes falling upon the sorceror's near by and he mirrored his captains action.

"You know I've got your back don't you captain"

"All the way Lion, all the way"

"You also know if you get in combat with a fist I'm not going to touch him. Better your gutted than loose to that scum"

Lynx looked at his friends face expecting a friend smile under the golden hair yet his bodyguards face was deadly serious

"Iron to the core aren't you Lion"

"Legion, Company, Primarch sir, that's how it's always been for me"

Lynx looked out over the walls, little dots moved amongst them flashes of yellow amongst the mundane camoflauge of the guard. He was tempted to unhook his cannon, to take a potshot.

Not today... today he charged with blade and pistol today he lead from the front... he patted the cannon, just a little closer old friend, just a little closer


----------



## Euphrati

Severus ignored the presence of his sergeant, his anger boiling just under iron-wrought control and threatening to spill out upon the next breathing target that presented itself. For all his brutal and merciless nature, Severus valued Corius as a faithful warrior and was loathe to waste such talent in a moment of seething anger. A low growl was all that he managed to ward off the inquisitive nature of his sergeant.

Severus’ heavy tread took him back out into the smoke wreathed courtyard, scattering cult followers and menials as a heated blade parts butter. The second was re-fitting and re-arming where he had left them, yet Severus found his path blocked as he neared his men.

The mortal’s voice was barely audible over the distant cry of the Titans as he began to speak, yet only a handful of words made it past his teeth before Severus’ gauntlet knifed forward like a dark piston. Bone splintered and the man’s eyes went wide with horror as Severus withdrew his crimson-stained fist. A lump of muscle twitched in his open palm, beating out its last vital fluids through the caged fingers in mock parody of the ribs that had just housed it,

‘No mortal calls upon me like a dog to the hunt,’ 

Severus’ growl echoed down the open vox to the Second as he watched the man collapse into a limp pile of flesh,

‘Warriors of the Second, it seems our great Warsmith believes we are in need of aid from the Wytchcurs of the Red Sorcerer. They are here upon his behest; however… any warrior bearing the mark of my company will be flayed alive if he is caught aiding the warp-filth in any way and his soul thrown to the voidsea. The Iron Warriors need no aid. *This is Our fight, Our victory…. OUR WORLD. Glory to the Second and the Primarch!* Move out!’

---

Severus could feel the earth trembling under his iron-shod feet. It was like a wounded beast, lashing out at their very presence upon its hide. The Titans screamed their wrath upon the walls, artillery and daemon-bound guns unleashed thousands of pounds of metal rain upon the bastion. Yet, Severus ignored them all. He had been here before on countless worlds. Upon countless battlefields he had heard the song of siegecraft sung until it ran through his very veins, intertwined with his warp-touched flesh.

_He would take this world and Vilhelm would remember his value, his true destiny._

A roar came from his side; Shamesu’s tread was a faint echo to the stride of the Titans in the distance. Severus had noted the presence of the Apostle’s second with a sneer.

_He is watching me, yet he is akin to me in that Vilhelm has betrayed us both._

Shamesu had always been in Vilhelm’s shadow, from his inception into the Legion he had followed the other marine’s rise up through the ranks. Severus gave a low growl at the lingering pain that still coiled about his body and chewed his lip before opening a channel to the Iron-clad war machine that housed the remains of what Shamesu was,

‘It has been too long since you walked with the Second, Shamesu, be welcome amongst Brothers who value you.’

The rest of Severus’ words left his throat in a growl of pure rage as something upon the bastion’s curtain wall caught his eye. Golden-yellow plates caught the light for a moment, flashing like a dying star, their black edging visible even as this extended range. _The bastard Sons of Rogal Dorn were here, upon this world. *His world.*_

The fury within Severus’ mind flared with inhuman need, Shattersoul hissed upon his arm as it felt the unfettered hate of its master. He barely marked the shock wave that rolled over his men from the detonation of a supply dump,

‘Iron Warriors! Today we bleed the Sons of Dorn for their insult of daring to stand against us! On your feet and report! I want to know just what we lost and *who *is responsible for that supply placement…’


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus followed Aresk to his new company and brothers, soon Maximus could tell that Aresk was headed for several raptors standing slightly away from the others wih another squad of Marines.
"Maximus, this is Sergeant Eisen and his squad" Aresk said with a nod towards the Marines, Maximus glanced over at Eisen and nodded, "And this is Sergeant Velos" Aresk continued "Your squads will be merged from now on, you have several hours to introduce yourselves, orders will be here soon"
With that Aresk turned and left.

Velos moved forwards menacingly his unhelmeted face twisted in a sneer, as he got closer Maximus saw that Velos was one of those who had merged with most of their armour.
"It has been a while since anyone has joined my squad" Velos growled then pointed at Maximus' sergeant insigna "Now if you dont mind you will not be needing that anymore" 
Maximus almost laughed in the fools face.
"I think you'll find that you are joining my squad and that you are the one with no need of insignia Velos" He laughed mockingly, Velos growled and lunged forwards at him, Maximus swayed to the left and brought his elbow up Velos's face; knocking him to the floor.

Maximus placed his right boot on Velos's chestplate.
"If you ever try that again Velos I will kill you where you stand" Maximus hissed menacingly, Velos after a long moment nodded his assent and Maximus removed his foot, instead offering his hand to pull Velos to his feet.
"However you know these men better than I so you could be a usefull ally"

After pulling Velos to his feet Maximus turned to the remains of his old squad, Cadoras and Denset were looking with distaste at the new raptors while Perdos was looking at him uncomfertably as a raptor who was adorned with battle trophies - the skull of an ork warboss, a shattered eldar spirit stone and what looked like a flattened Ultramarines chestplate, - stalked over.
"I am Hassan and if you think that I will be lead by you unless you have done somthing significant...what have you acheived?" Hassan said, Maximus regarded him for a moment.

"Well Hassan, I was at the Siege of Terra and I fought the Bastard Sigismund, I wounded him before he ripped out my primary heart yet I still fought on and slew the Blood Angels third company captain, against the orks I have slain dozens and against the Tyranids I killed a broodlord that threatened my companys flank, so if you think you can best me, you are welcome to try..." Maximus replied

Hassan backed down.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Several hours later Maximus and his squad hunkered down ready to give support to the fourth when they advanced, suddenly a mortar shell exploded amongst the autocannon team behind them.
As the astartes fought to get their gun firing again another shot landed on them causing their ammo to cook and explode.
"Get down!" Maximus yelled as he threw himself to the ground, getting back to his feet he yelled "Everyone alive!" He recieved grunts of affermation from his squad.
"Cadoras, Velos check for surv-" Maximus stopped suddenly as he saw a glint of yellow armour off in the distance "The bastard sons of Dorn are hear brothers!"


----------



## heartslayer

As the Dominator opened fire on the fortress the mighty war machine rumbled and shook below Akakios' feet, he felt the awesome power of the machine spirit working with the powers of chaos within this titan, this sheer power pleased Akakios.

As he looked out upon the battlefield, and waited until he was needed, as he watched the carnage caused by every shot the mighty titan fired, the destruction amused Akakios as he looked at the walls of the fortress, he spotted something that sickened him to the core of his soul, the flash of an astartes clad in bright yellow armour, Akakios let out a harsh rasp through his Voxcaster 'The Fists are here... They will perish in the name of The primarch and the Black apostle' his brothers repeated his words now having spotted the filthy Imperial Fist. the titan fired upon the wall where the Fist stood.


----------



## BlackApostleVilhelm

Akakios: As you stand on the bridge watching the Dominator pound the walls relentlessly a random pic of the Fist you had seen on the wall comes up and is blown up so that all in the bridge can see it. He is, or rather was pointing at the very titan that you stand in now, a rather peculiar yet all together mundane gesture. Whatever your feelings about the marine and why he is pointing at you it would appear that the princeps is concerned, but before you can question him the mighty titan lets out a booming roar.

You look out the viewing window and see that the mighty gate that bars the entrance to the fortress has finally been blown open. The floor that you stand on begins to tremble slightly as the Dominator begins to walk steadily, its guns still firing, towards the walls so that it can unload its deadly cargo and support the warriors of the Third. As it walks you hear more booming roars and can see that breaches have been made where parts of the walls have finally collapsed under the barrage of fire, allowing the Astartes of the Eighth Grand to enter and take their prize from within. Yet as the Dominator moves closer to the walls you see movement through the mangled and torn gates, a flash of bright red and deep blue, and then it is gone.

Lynx: As you scrutinize the firing patterns waiting for the gates to be torn apart your senses are greeted with a blinding flash and one of the loudest bangs you have ever heard. Instinctively you duck into the trench for cover, but when you come back up you see that the gates have been blown asunder by the might of Thel and his titans. This is it, now is the time for you and your men to prove your worth and earn the glory that the Apostle has alloted you in this battle, over your head missiles and munitions from the Fourth fly through the gate and up at the walls giving you and your men cover.

Give your orders and your men will follow, I leave what they do largely up to you. As you charge towards the gate, Fergus and his men right behind you along with your command retinue you see the Raptors of the Fourth flying up to meet the enemies on the tops of the walls that are now pointing thier guns at you. Up ahead of you, on the top of the torn gates you see a squad of Fists aiming their weapons at you, yet just before they are able to fire purple lightning strikes in their midst and you see the Apostle and his Elites. 

They tear apart the squad and he turns towards the Eighth and lets out a mighty roar. Once you enter the gates you see that the land between the walls and the fortress itself is riddled with bunkers and redoubts. Reaching the fortress will not be easy but you must not loose momentum.

[I leave the details of your charge up to you DB, I dont want to take away from the experience of Lynx's first charge up the middle. From the trenches to the gates it should be fairly simple but when you pass the threshold of the gates you will be greeted by many Imperial guardsmen set up behind barricades, walls, inside small squat bunkers and so on]

Zamiel: In an instant after speaking the Apostle has teleported you onto the portion of the wall that goes over the mighty gates that lead into the area between the walls and the fortress. Yellow surrounds you and you realize that you have landed amongst a squad of Fists, tear them apart and then follow the Apostle as he leaps down from the wall after letting out a roar and landing on the top of a bunker, breaking the roof causing it to cave in.

As with all Imperial Guard bunkers they are linked by tunnels, use these tunnels to clear out the four bunkers in the immediate area.

[I leave the clearing of the bunkers to you LotN, the details are for you to decide, but realize that there will be no Fists unless i specifically say it in the next update so for now there are just guardsmen. While you are gifted by chaos you will be shot and, if a bunker is purposely imploded, stuck or hurt.]

Maximus: You and your new squad hunker down as Thel's titans let out mighty roars one by one as breaches are finally made in the walls. As you stand and ready your jump pack you can see that not only are the gates torn open but multiple areas on the walls have collapsed and the forces of Barok and Severus are now on the move along with Lynx and his men. 

Igniting your jump pack you rocket into the sky along with your men, and fly towards the top of the piece of wall in front of you, you are to support Lynx and his men as they charge. When you land there are guardsmen everywhere, either too stunned at seeing you or too stunned at seeing their defences broken, either way kill them for just as you do you hear a mighty roar and turn to see that the Apostle has also landed on the walls. He leaps off the top and lands amidst the bunkers and redoubts that dot the area behind the walls, you have no time to move back to the fight however as a bolt round clips your shoulder guard and spins you around.

A single Fist marine stands with his bolt pistol aimed at you and his chainsword drawn, ready to take the shot that will end your life, yet you are saved by one of the new members in your squad. Hassan's power claws rip through the Fist's chestplate and the large raptor kicks him off, sending him over the edge of the wall and to his death, the raptor nods at you in respect. You turn to see that three of Thel's war machines are moving towards the walls, filled with warriors of the Fourth ready to tear at the enemies within the Imperial fortress. Clear this portion of the wall so that the titans can unload their cargo safely.

[The details of clearing your portion of the wall i leave to you CS, but just like LotN there will be no more Fists until the next update or if i say so.]

Eisen: From where you and Aresk stand waiting with Barok you can see the blinding flash as Thel finally blows open the gates. Not soon afterwards the titans supporting this portion of the charge answer Thel's roar with ones of their own as part of the wall finally collapses causing a huge dust cloud to form. Without wasting any time at Barok leaps from the trenchesand charges, a deep battlecry coming from his ancient lips and those of his men as they rumble forwards like a wave of death. 

Of all the charges in your life this is the one that truly brings you down and makes you realize how young and unexperienced you really are. All around you are the warriors of the First, men who have been around since before the Great War, and who have fought and bled for ten thousand years and more. Each has trophies hanging from his armor or specialized weapons that he has tinkered with himself to give him that extra edge against his hated foes. Yet as you watch these godlike warriors charge past you you remember the attention that you have been alloted by Aresk, a mighty captain of the Eighth. 

*"NOW!"* you hear him yell over the vox and see him rocket into the sky on his jump pack. You follow suit and land on the top of the wall that lies in front of the path of Barok and his men, your first objective is to defeat all resistance on this portion to not only give cover to the men of the First, but to also allow the titan that now strides towards you to unload its cargo of Astartes on the wall so that they can join the assault. Aresk yells and you see him point down below, amidst the bunkers and redoubts filled with guardsmen you can see yellow dots retreating back towards the fortress, among them is a squad of assault marines covering their retreat.

Will these assault marines be your next target once the wall is cleared?

[i leave the details of clearing the wall to you, do not go after the assault marines until the next update, remember you are being led by Aresk so you can say what he does, how he looks etc]

Luminus: Hathor simply nods at you and keeps staring at the wall in front of you. You can feel heat as the gates are finally blown open and can see small lights get snuffed out from the blast as guardsmen are killed by caveins in the tunnels within the walls. The warriors of the Third are on the move and as you make to head out of the trenches you see that Hathor and his cadre are still not moving, why have they not charged yet? Whatever the case you were commanded to watch them and so you wait for their move.

You see a large pulse in the warp and suddenly the Apostle and his Elites are on the walls slaughtering all around them. He lets out a mighty roar and you can see that it has weakened the barrier between realspace and the warp greatly giving him more power, and not just him but you also. He leaps from the wall and lands behind it beyond your sight and you are caught off guard as you see the Thousand Sons racing towards the gates. As you charge you can hear the screams and shrieks of the Raptors as they kill those on the tops of the walls and toss them off, many of the bodies landing in front of you as you near the gates.

Once inside you will be a bit of the ways behind the Third's captain but you will still be able to see him further ahead with his retinue and the squad from the First. You will be greeted by many bunkers and redoubts filled with guardsmen and as you make to follow the Third you are led astray by the Thousand Sons as they enter a bunker far to your right.

[as you enter this bunker two out of the eight automatons will be killed, how is entirely up to you but do not forget to speak the words that the Apostle has told you. As you do you see thier souls being sucked out of their bodies and shooting out of the bunker and back towards where you assume the bastion is. aide Hathor in clearing the rest of this bunker.]

Pavor: As you jest and speak with your fellow fallen brothers a bright flash and loud bang are heard and you can see that Thel as finally torn open the mighty gates. As the warriors of the Third barely begin to move a roar is heard and it is accompanied by a sound that resembles the crumbling of a mountain. You zoom in and see that a portion of wall in front of where you stand has collapsed and that Severus and his men are already moving to take the breach before the enemy inside can form any kind of counter charge or defense.

Shamesu follows suit with a battlecry of his own and you and your bretheren follow him as he charges for the walls. Above your head you can hear the Raptors screaming as they fly at the walls ready to kill all who are on them and as you finally reach the breach and pass it you are greeted with the sight of bunkers and redoubts all the way to the fortress. The warriors of the Eighth have already engaged the defenders are moving through the defences and making thier way towards the fortress itself, Shamesu orders you and your brothers to follow him as he gives the Second support in clearing a cluster of bunkers.

[the details of clearing these bunkers i leave to you, how do your brothers battle? how does shamesu look? how do you feel? as you clear the last bunker however and come out into a small clearing you are greeted with an unfriendly sight, in front of you and Shamesu stands a red and blue warhound titan, do not engage it until the next update]

Severus: Shamesu responds to you, *"Aye brother, it has been too long since you and I have fought side by side, let us rid this planet of these unworthy scum."* As he finishes you hear a roar from the titans and turn to see that a breach has been made in front of you, give your orders to your men and charge. Once you pass the breach you will be greeted with bunkers and redoubts all the way to the fortress, the assault will be slowed, but momentum must not be lost. 

There are a cluster of bunkers that are your current objective, clear them with the aide from Shamesu and his dreadnoughts. Yet just before you enter one you see a flash of red and blue, what could it be?

[i leave the details of the charge and the clearing of the bunkers up to you, any comments towards Shamesu can be answered by you if you PM me first.] 

Corius: You hear a loud bang and see a bright flash, the gates have finally been torn open by Thel, yet that is not important to you, what is is the breach that has just been made as part of the wall in front of you collapses into the ground. You follow Severus in the charge and follow his orders as you finally pass through the breach, you are greeted by bunkers and redoubts that reach all the way to the foot of the fortress. You are to clear a small cluster of bunkers in your immediate area.

[once again i leave the details of the charge and the clearing the bunkers up to you.]


----------



## Lord of the Night

The Warp stirred around the Elite Guardians and Zamiel as they were thrust through the aether onto a section of the Imperial walls. It spread over the gates that led into the killing grounds separating the fortress and the gates, there would be much bloodshed and death to claim this ground. Men would die for every inch they took and the defenders, although maggots, would sell their lives to hold it. Zamiel relished the thought of a charge and for a moment longed to be down there. His wish was quickly forgotten as he looked and saw that he and his warriors had emerged right in the middle of an Imperial Fist Tactical squad.

Laughing in the irony of the moment Zamiel launched himself forward before the worms could react, his arms morphing into long wickedly serrated blades, and drove both blades into the Space Marine, the first punching through his chest in a burst of blood, and the second shearing a gash across his throat and collar, all but severing his head. Quickly ripping them both out, the blood poured out as the serrated blades tore through flesh, bone and ceramite and finished the loyalist, his head falling. All that had happened in an instant.

Before they could even react two more of the Fists were shredded in a hail of bolt rounds, two of the Elite Guards had raised their morphed Storm Bolters and put clean holes into the two Space Marines chests. The last three reacted fast and pulled out chainswords, diving at Zamiel and spewing out litanies against the Warp. Zamiel scoffed in disgust, what use were their petty words against the infinite might of the Warp. Quickly spinning and morphing his left arm into a barbed whip Zamiel slashed at one of the loyalists, the whip ensnared his arm and tore it clean off, blood spewed from the wound and the Astartes barely had a moment to recognize it before Zamiel slashed again and cleaved him from shoulder to hip.

The last Astartes fired his Bolt Pistol as fast as he could into Zamiel but every shot was glanced away by his blade-arm. Laughing at the foe's weakness Zamiel dashed forward and morphed his arm into a huge claw, quickly grabbing the Fist and raising him up high to see the Iron Warriors armies in motion. 'See that Imperial dog?, our armies are marching towards our victory and the glorious Black Apostle is with us again. With his daemonic might leading us your pathetic excuse for a fortress shall crumble, just as the Golden Palace did at Terra. You and all your brothers will die ignoble and forgotten by your Corpse-Emperor and his bastard son Dorn.' Zamiel announced to the Fist, enjoying the look on its face as the loyalist tried to fight back against Zamiel's warp-enhanced strength. With a dismissive grunt Zamiel crushed the Fist's head, blood and brain matter spilling out through the cracks inbetween his talons.

Turning to his squad and nodding his affirmation one stepped forward and morphed a Heavy Flamer in its arms. Swiftly turning it onto the dead Fists an inferno broke out and engulfed their bodies. This was no honour to them, but the final insult, their genetic legacy, the holy gene-seed, would be lost forever. These worms would never sire heirs to their line and the lines of ancient loyalists from the Heresy were lost forever. Zamiel briefly wondered if any of these dogs were descended from those he killed at Terra all those millennia ago, however he quickly lost interest in that when the Black Apostle landed nearby on a bunker which caved under his presence. 'Onwards!, the Apostle leads us to more carnage!,' shouted Zamiel, quickly marshalling his Elite Guards as fast as their Terminator Armour would allow, however due to its Warp origins it was much faster then the regular variant of Tactical Dreadnought Armour.

The bunkers ahead were the targets, at least four were active and serving as heavy weapons positions for the Guardsmen fodder to rain fire down upon the approaching Siege-Engines and artillery batteries. While Zamiel cared little for their safety he recognized a chance for more bloodshed and ran after the Apostle, as fast as he could, leaping down into the bunker with both blade-arms at the ready.


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus might have been taken aback by Hathor's calmness if he weren't similarly unphaseable. Perhaps Hathor had plans of his own, or perhaps he was just the quiet type, either way, it would prove interesting. A Thousand Sons sorcerer would hold secrets of power that Luminus could perhaps glean, steal or learn. He looked forward to it already.

Finally, the push came. A blast of heat mildly warmed Luminus' armor at this distance, and the sorcerer could both feel and see insect-like life-forms being snuffed out. He wouldn't even have felt them if they weren't so numerous, these guardsmen of the Imperium. He went one step before he realized the cadre wasn't moving as well. Apparently Hathor and his minions were not eager to charge forward.

This quickly went out of his mind as Luminus felt a most wondrous shifting in the warp. Huge, enough to see the Apostle and his elites onto the walls, as he saw when he opened his eyes. So enthralling was the shift of power, and the backwash Luminus got from it, that he almost failed to notice the Thousand Sons finally committing to a charge. Activating his force-weapon, Luminus charged as well, dimly noting the shrieks of the Raptors as they threw the Imperial scum over the walls.

Once inside, Luminus could more clearly see the Third, and their Captain. Instead of joining with them, however, Hathor apparently decided to assault the farthest right bunker. A curious choice, perhaps seeking something? Luminus followed close behind, noting the heavy fire as two of the automaton minions fell to the counter-fire, speaking the words he was bidden, a most glorious eight they were. Luminus watched with satisfaction as their souls departed the battlefield, towards perhaps the main bastion. There was little time for that however, he mused, for there was sorcery to be wrought in the name of the Ruinous Powers.


----------



## Deus Mortis

A silent drum beat was rising in the heart of the eighth. The pounding of heavy munitions, the blast of the titans, the cries of battle and the faint whisper of enemy cries, each one individual and yet together creating an symphony of noise that raised the pulses of the eighth as their blades and guns begged for blood. Corius had to exorcize all his will-power to hold him and his squad back from charging. Suddenly, a loud crack and boom to his left left Corius know that the main gate had been broken open. This was of little concern to him, for in the same moment the massive titans tore down a large section of wall in front of the third. The huge section of wall crumbled in slow-motion, each section taking men and yellow plates colliding with other blocks of stone. Then, like a great release, Severus' voice boomed across the entire of the thrid company as he gave the order to charge. Corius needed no further instructions, and his feet sprung into motion, and before he could have even realized he was doing it, he was pounding towards the walls. His squad followed in tow, as did the rest of the third, but Corius outran them all, even in his terminator armour, and was first across the threshold, his obsidian black scale gleaming. Each step seemed to take and eternity, and Corius' razor sharp mind engulfed all the sights before him. Bunkers and redoubts stretched like a carpet up to the wall of the fortress. Most supported small firing holes, designed only to let the defenders fire out, and a few supported heavy weapons. Each was a beautiful construction of defense, worthy of commendation to the architects of these fortifications. But the Iron warriors had seen and demolished hundreds of thousands of these bunkers in their lifetimes. None would stand before them. The autocannon on the front bunker spun around to face Corius, but a moment too late. As the munitions pattered into the rubble and the line of fellow warriors that were advancing, Corius teleported into the bunker. Inside was dark and hot as crowds of guardsmen huddled together in their 'defense'. Corius invaded this space in a boom of thunder. In the dimly lit bunker, a dozen guardsmen died in mere moments under Corius' relentless assault. Their limbs and blood splattered over the walls. Some huddeled in the corners for protection, but there was no joy in killing these mongrels, he long to take the life from those who still had fight in them. Two sergeants stood in front of the door, bth gripping their lasguns in courage and fear. Corius almost laughed at their defiance. "You shall not pass" One of them quivered. "Really?" Corius asked mockingly. His claws wrapped around the sergeants throat and shredded it with ease, the headless corpse dropped to the floor, and Corius felt the cold barrel of the other lasgun against his head. Corius knew he could kill the man before he could even fire his gun, and so he turned slowly and looked inquisitively at the man. His face had fear, ambition and dedication written across it. Corius imagined that he looked like that once. Once, but not anymore. 

Suddenly, as Corius was about to rend the pathetic human apart, a flash of light destroyed the man's skull. His brain matter was smeared over wall, but Corius' attention was drawn to the source. In the corner of the room, a group of four lonely guardsmen stood, shaking either in fear of Corius or of the thing they had just done. He walked calmly up to the man who held his lasgun ridged to his chest, aimed at the spot his commanding officer had stood. "We serve you now" the man said shakely. Corius mulled this over for a moment, he could kill them all, without a second thought. But on the other had, they could be useful. "Do you know any access codes?" he asked. "Jenkins knows the access codes for this bunker, and we can give you a map of the area. That's all we know, we swear!" The man responded. "Then the Gods smile upon you this day. Do it!" Corius commanded flatly. "Squad meet me in the fore-most bunker. The doors will be open." As the bunkers doors hissed open, and Corius' men entered, the bunker became cramped again. The din of battle flooded in. A 3-D plan of the bunkers were laid out before them, and Corius surveyed it quickly and noticed four bunkers in their immediate area, three leading out from this one, and then a main one in the center. There might be valuable information gathered there. "Alright, Desin and Ares, you are team one. You take the left bunker, and meet us at the main bunker. Celux and Mithras, you are team two. You take the right bunker and meet us at the center. I'll take the middle one and meet you four at the center. Once we have each cleared our objectives, we wait for the others and breach the center bunker together. We all clear?" "Yes sir!" was the drill response from his team. "What about us my lord?" This was the guardsmen this time. They had been silent until this time. But now their courage had found voice and so the question arose. "You worms will stay silent until your betters speak to you!" Such an eruption from Celux was rare, and Corius was almost taken back. "Now Celux, these men have provided us with useful intel." Celux shrunk back from a small reprimand of his superior, but it wasn't a serious rebuke, merely an assertion of control. "However..." Now Corius leaned into the guardsmen "...if you are off base, and are trying to lead us into a trap, we will kill your superiors and we will come back to kill you. If you are right, and this proves helpful to our assault, you will be allowed to join our legions of other traitors and deserters like yourself." Corius leaned back. A question looked like it was forming in the man's throat, but a stern look from Corius silenced it. "Alright men, move out!" And with that, the terminators left the guardsmen alone and embarked on their objectives.

Corius barreled down the trench towards his chosen objective. The grey offensive block squatted in the carved out earth like and monster that challenged him. Well, he would slay this monster like others before it, and he would do it with speed and style. The two firing grills faced away from the trench and Corius' teleportation was timed to the pound of the titan's guns. The guardsmen never even registered the bulking terminators appearance. "Base one, come in base one. Have you dealt with the Iron warriors in your vicinity?" The cornel questioned a silent vox. Corius chuckled silently. This pathetic fool had no idea his own men had turned on him. Corius wrapped his clawed gauntlet around the commander's mouth, slow enough for him to let out a terrified scream. All the guardsmen immediately brought their weapons to face Corius. He laughed quietly to himself. "Drop your weapons, or I'll kill your commander!" He proclaimed loudly. Instantly all the guardsmen weapons faltered. The thing Corius could always rely on was the fact that the guardsmen needed their chain of command, and so would strive to prolong their commanders lives. The thing they failed to realize was that if they all fired simultaneously on him as one, they would cause him some trouble. But instead, the did as he commanded, as expected. "Ok, you..." He pointed at one terrified guardsman, who jumped at him being singled out. "...put all the weapons over the in that corner. And then all of you, stand on that side" As expected, all of the guardsmen did as he asked. "So foolish." Corius said as he ripped the commanders face apart. It took mere moments for him to rip apart the remaining guardsmen. After he had dispatched the scum, he opened the door by smashing in the control pannel. He embarked down the trench and huddled up against the remaining bunker wall and waited for his two other teams to contact him. 

Several long moments passed before his vox opened up to him. "Team two in position" "Good, and word from Desin?" "No sir" "Hmmmm..." Corius mussed. Desin was cruel and efficient, and something had to be wrong for him to be delayed. Suddenly and explosion rocked the floor, and a plume of smoke rose to Corius' left. "Desin? DESIN DAMN IT ANSWER ME!" "*coughs* Sir we've had some...complications." "Complications? Desin, I've got a plume of smoke to my left that is giving every defender here a beacon to fire on! What could possibly be worth that?!" "Sir, we have the vox codes for some the Imperial fist channels. We can tap them." Corius was about to yell in blind rage at Desin when his warriors words struck home. "Fine, get here soon and send me the codes. Were almost out of time." Corius spat back. Desin's discovery was as irritating as is was useful. "Were almost there sir." When Desin and Ares arrived, the three teams placed breaching charges on the doors and burst through. Desin and Ares unleashed a hail of bolts and flames that tore apart a dozen men on the left. Celux and Mithras ripped apart an equal number on the right with bolter shells and heavy autocannon munitions. Corius tore a line down the middle, and those the bullet and flames didn't reach, he tore apart with energized claws. In a few seconds, no life was in the bunker. Corius quickly tapped in the codes Desin had recovered. Most was just chatter of the attackers breaching, and Corius laughed at the almost panic in the Fists voices. They knew they were doomed. But some talked about positions of squads and mines, perhaps Corius could use these when Severus ordered them to move onwards, but for now, he would want a report. "My lord, we have taken the fore-most bunkers and we have secured a couple of vox channels of the Fists. Most are useless garbage, but some talk about positions of squads and traps, things the Fists think would trouble us. Trivial things, but it might make our job easier, if it pleases you. Awaiting your orders sir" And with that, Corius took a rare moment to enjoy the din of battle, the roar of guns and the scream of defenders dying in vain...


----------



## Captain Stillios

Maximus roared as the titans neared.
"Hassan, take Velos, Cadoras and Dimitrios and take out those heavy weapons!" He ordered as a barrage of missiles impacted the titans legs, "The rest of you with me!" Maximus charged along the wall in the opposite direction hacking guardsmen down as he went, a volley of lasgun fire announced the presence of a commisar who led his men forwards in an attempt to retake their position on the walls, Maximus laughed and lept to meet them.

"Fix bayone-" The Guardsmen's sergeants order died in his throat as Maximus drop kicked him off of the wall plumeting to his death, Denset and Perdos activated their jumppacks and landed behind the Humans cutting off their retreat as they lay into the Imperial dogs.
The Commisar charged forwards and swung his powerseord in a clumsy overhand swing, Maximus parried and hammered his left fist into the loyalists face puplng it into a bloody mess.

As his squad finished off the rest of the guardsmen Maximus glanced over to see how the others were doing, all but one of the missle launchers had been destroyed however Maimus noticed that it was not aiming at the Titains...it as aiming at him!
"Squad scatter!" He bellowed to late, a rocket impacted the wall at his feet sending him flying backwards into the wall, bouncing off of it and falling forwards Maximus roared in rage and pain as he relocated his right arm.

He spotted a Guardsman bellow with a targater in his hand and realised that he had ordered the missle fired at them, Maximus leaped off of the battlements and landed on top of the human tearing his to shreds with his sword and axe.

He noticed that the rest of his squad had now joined them, however they were dangerously exposed here, opening a vox channel to Aresk and the Apostle he said "Walls cleared my lords awaiting further orders" before diving into combat.


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## deathbringer

His frustration built as he waited tapping his hand against the guard upon his thigh. Little growls of frustration built in his throat as two firing lanes crossed and dispersed, the bullets ricocheting away to spatter harmlessly against the hulls of the princep's titan. He would have to talk to the apostle, insist in future that he manned the firing lanes, even remotely he could have done a better job that this. Far away he could see tiny groups of figures standing straight unmolested by fire, readying there weapons.

The flash blinded him, the sound deafened him and he ducked for cover, eyes wide. What had the enemy brought to bear upon them, what disaster was set to befall his first charge.

Yet as he straightened once more, he saw the gates torn asunder, smoking under the ruin of the titans and he leapt from the trench standing astride its top he roared allowed, a roar of triumph that resounded through the air and the 3rd echoed him.

Excitement rippled through his men, their roar the growl of a purring panther, their rustling movements the ripples of its muscles as it prepared to pounce. This would be martial perfection, it had been planned the moment he had seen the scout reports, refined and honed by his honour guard. Twisted and tweaked by his sergeants. Approved and honoured by the men of his company. 

They knew the honour afforded to them here, knew the pressure placed upon their captain. The captain that others shunned but they had loved and embraced.


"3rd company" he roared

"First rank ready" roared the combat specialists, there blades gleamed as they drew them from there sheaths, there pistols barked as they let off the first shot of there pistols into the air. Sheets of flame burst from flamers, the distinct whine over powered by the stuttering roar of the heavy flamers.

"Second rank ready" A flurry of munitiions passed him as lascannons and autocannons were fired into the breach, pot shots at the walls sent, previously stunned troops toppling for cover.

Lynx stood proud, raising his sword aloft he laughed allowed

"Third company.... for the apostle..... to victory!"

They spilled from the trenches, like ants bursting from their hive. Munitions rippled around Lynx as he tore forth feeling the munitions of the fourth intensify as they poured into the breach and he heard screams and cries of agony as figures began to shift amongst the rubble.

In the second trench, he hit the deck, feeling the close combat specialist pour in behind him, feeling the intense burst as his heavy weapons crackled over his heads and he counted the seconds

His voice mingling with Cheetah's over the vox, 5...4 ....3...2...1 

"We're dry" roared the youngest of his honour guard

Once again they swelled from the trench and Lynx was pleased to see that the heads upon the wall were down,yet now the guardsman stuggled to there feet, drawing as bead as they poured, a wave of figures tearing towards the first trench. Yet now the raptors of 4th poured onto the walls, knocking figures asunder, drawing the attention away from third and lynx changed his targets

Several power armoured figures now blocked the breach and Lynx prepared to bark and order, an order to tear the Fists asunder. Yet there was a crack, flickers of purple lightening and the apostle appeared in there midst. 

The fists were torn down, trampled by his feet and he raised his fists aloft and roared alloud. 

Lynx wanted to roar with him, to fight alongside him, yet stern duty took him over, this charge woud be perfection.

"2nd wave hold fire, move up in support...1st wave into the breach brothers, we must not loose momentum"

The leapt the last trench and now they were sprinting forth, tearing over the muddied ground towards the torn gates through which the apostle had dissappear, through which who knew what horrors may lie. Yet for now they thundered over the ground mounting the torn gates, tearing over the rubble. 

Lynx reached the top and paused... thought upon his face, the pistol hot in his hand.

A maze of redoubts, bunkers and trenches greeted his eyes and he scanned the battle field, watching as the apostle and his elites scurried into the bunkers, shivering slightly as he heard the screams from inside

"3rd split, prongattack, this is the moment we have been waiting for brothers, our moment to shine". Now the third tore down the other side, splitting deftly into 7 prepared prongs, spilling outwards towards the bunkers,flamers licking inside bunkers, grenades spilling through windows, or pressed upon bunker doors as the 3rd company went to task.

The 8th prong was a sledgehammer,heroes and legends mingling they went to task upon the centre bunker Lynx at there head.

"Sabre split it" 

The railgun on his right arm twisted fixing upon the centre bunker. The gun trembled and a burst of blue light smashed into its centre tumbling the reinforced concrete shearing through it with ease. Vapourising a large hole within

The frag grenade in Lynx's hand was light and he tossed it inside with a flick of his wrist hearing the screams as it landed amongst the cowering dogs within. Lion slipped through into the breach and the bark of his pistol and hum of his power spear, ended the screaming. Deftly Lynx leapt after him.

They were in the tunnels, time to hunt.


----------



## unxpekted22

the frozen standoff turned to perpetual motion as the section of wall crumbled down to the ground it had once been built from. Even as the highest blocks were still in mid-fall, seas of warriors from the eighth moved to meet it. He had been late joining the first battle earlier in the day and so hadn't been amongst the company like this. So many older warriors of the eighth around him at once....he had along way to go in order to catch up. As his Captain yelled for them to make their move Eisen's open fist was ; he would gain the experience, and he would gain the rank faster than anyone before him.

He triggered his jump back with a wave to his men to follow suit. Such powerful combustion, his footprints upon the ground disappeared somewhere beneath him in seconds. His projection began to arc forward and the other companies ran like swarms beneath him. the jump pack was harder to control than he imagined and his flight pattern began to be shaky at best. Remaining headstrong as usual however, He did not doubt if he would make it but was disheartened by seeing Aresk land the top of the wall so much sooner than he. A mighty, dark figure already sending pieces of bodies to the ground far, far below.

He hit the top of the wall with a stagger, and actually fell onto his front. Beneath his helm his face raged with embarrassment. He heard a yell and to his left guardsmen were running straight toward him thinking they had spotted an easy target, bayonets ready to stab through his throat. Their path was blocked by the landing of his squad. The first one held his chainsword forward as he came down onto the wall, chewing through the closest guardsmen. the second landed slightly behind and placed one hand on the first to keep him down while he fired over him with his bolter blowing apart the other five or so guardsmen left running towards Eisen. 

Eisen was back to his feet and thanked his brothers, but he needed to make up for his faults, and his anger wouldnt be sated until he killed for himself. He might not be the best at flying, but...*spray*....he knew how to kill....*splatter*....these stupid, pathetic....*scream*....Emperor loving.....*squish*.....humans! (lol:biggrin

Looking around for more enemies he looked below and saw the figures of their arch-rivals once again. the dull yellow forms of the Imperial fists, and specifically assault marines. Surely they were more experienced with their jump packs than h and his squad were with theirs but perhaps they could get the 'jump' on them. Eisen laughed at his own pun, and with the lift of his arm and point of his finger his laughs turned to a wretched growl of words, "The Imperial Fists! Get them!"


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

OOC: ok guys im so sorry that this has fallen off the map, pained almost because of how close to me it is. i do not expect anyone who was previously in this to continue on because of how long it has been out, but i ask that whoever was in if you still wish to finish this siege and bring this world to heel then simply post here and let me know. if enough of you do then i will happily update this post and make it the update that i had had waiting for you all. if not then i will edit this post and let you all know what i had had planned for your characters.



P.S. it is almost at its end, quite literally the siege is halfway done and once it is over so is the Rp


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## Captain Stillios

LET THE GALAXY BURN!!!!!!!

(Thats a yes)


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## Masked Jackal

Give me an update, and I'll be ready to go. I've still got Luminus' characterization and current mission in my head.


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## Euphrati

It seems I am one of the ones that actually needs to post  my apologies on that. 

I will work on getting back into the mindset of kind-hearted Severus this evening and edit it into this post.


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## Lord of the Night

Im still here.


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## deathbringer

lynx is still around whenever you need him


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## Euphrati

Of course that mongrel half-blood is still around... hiding in the back like a coward does lengthen your life a bit even if it is a worthless one.




Ah, I can feel the spirit of Severus already


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

excellent, im glad to see a fair amount of you are interested in continuing this through to the end. im going to wait a bit more for anyone else to join back and if not then we shall continue on with what we have


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## Deus Mortis

Corius is at your command, I still have a score to settle with Maximus


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## Captain Stillios

Put em up Deus!


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## Deus Mortis

I would, but you need the two seconds head start that it will take me to raise my lightning claws above my waist, because after that, you'll be dead :biggrin:


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## Captain Stillios

Psh, anytime any place!

Melta suicide bombing FTW!


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## Deus Mortis

Teleporting ftw, which means you could kill yourself with a melta-bomb, and I don't even have to do anything :grin:


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## Captain Stillios

....Orbital headbut?


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## Deus Mortis

I will again refer you the teleport ability, so it will more like orbital face plant


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## Captain Stillios

Iw ill teach you of the Orbital headbut. It involves taking a battle barge and using cyclonic torpedoes


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## Euphrati

Hm, it might be good just to give us a clean, new update to post on BAV.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

ok lady and gents! here we go, the siege is in full swing, the outter walls have been breached and the mighty warriors of the Eighth are now swarming into the bunkers, trenches and underground tunnels between them and the inner keep. lets make me proud shall we 

Lynx: You enter the bunkers, your men following suit, the whole of the Third splitting up and pilling in through open doors and blown open holes. At this rate you should have a relatively detailed map of many of the tunnels as your men quickly spread out and kill all in their path, being this close to their prey has given your men a new high that they have never truly felt before....could this be what drives men like Barok and Severus? The thrill of knowing how powerful you really are compared to most in the universe? Whatever your thoughts you and your command squad take on the twists and turns and you soon notice that you have not encountered a single enemy in quite a few minutes, a disturbing thought. A possible ambush could await you but you move on nonetheless, soon coming to a bend in the corridor, Cheetah in his haste rounds the corner first and is met with a wall of bolter fire. You and your men stop in your tracks as you watch your young comrade get torn to pieces, even his modified reflexes unable to move quick enough to keep him from certain death, his lifeless body falling to its knees before his head getting blown off by another round. 

Bolter rounds, that meant one of two things, sentry turrets or Astartes and the Imperial Fists had been spotted on the walls and amongst the bunkers. You hear heavey footsteps behind you and turn to see Fergus and his men catching up with you, he looks at Cheetah's lifeless body and his eyes narrow before he pushes past you and turns the corner to see what lies beyond. Rounds hit his armor and detonate but do no true harm to him before he moves back behind the cover of the corner, he sees the looks of your men and says,* "Olympian Terminator Armor, we perfected the Lords of Mars' creation. Three fists around the corner set up behind a damn good barrier, your orders captain?"* Well now what do you do? Fergus has asked for orders and no doubt would carry them through to the T, but one of your close friends has just suddenly been torn to pieces with no warning at all. How do you feel about this? How does the rest of your command squad feel about this?

Maximus: You are upon the walls awaiting your orders, and you soon get them, an ammo depot not far from your position is the target. If you get rid of that then the enemy's guns within the trenches will have no supplies and soon run out, the only problem is that you have quite a large swathe of land between you and your objective that is swarming with enemies. You can see the depot off in the distance and towards your right, a alot of bunkers and enemies, yet an explosion catches your attention and you see the mighty form of Barok and his veterans bursting through a mighty hole in the wall and charging at the bunkers. Now is the time, your brothers will keep many of the guns off of you and allow you to leap from trench to trench until you finally get to the depot itself, but beware once you get there there will be four Imperial Fists waiting to ambush you. I am giving you relative free reign with how you get there and how you kill the Fists but nothing overly spectacular, remember they have boltguns and you are a raptor and dont have a lot of armor so be smart about it.

Eisen: As you hack chop and slice you hear a laugh that sends a shiver down your spine and turn to see your captain, Aresk, watching you kill your foes, *"Good boy! Good! Let your hate fuel you!"* he yells before firing his engines and flying over the warriors of the First who cheer at seeing him. You follow suit and, firing your engines, you leap into the sky and soar after your captain, the screams of the other raptors in the company filling your ears as they tear at the enemy lines. You land in a trench next to Aresk and dive into the soldiers and before you know it they are all gone and you are following him as he makes his way down the line and into a small area behind a redoubt, but you are not prepared for what you are about to face. Aresk immediately dives out of the way and you follow suit, bolter rounds screaming towards your position and tearing apart two of your men instantly, their throats screaming in surprise as they are gunned down. 

You pick your head up to see what has fired at you and your body freezes, standing before you in shining silver armor a massive power spear in his hand and twin linked bolter on his other hand is a Grey Knight. *"Support me boy!" *you hear Aresk yell and your body kicks into action, the rest of your men also moving to aide in killing this powerful warrior quickly. The battle is short but the most brutal you have ever been in, the Grey Knight killing all but two of your men and taking one of Aresk's arms from the elbow down, yourself getting a hefty chunk of your side cut out. I leave the details of the duel up to you but make it realistic this is a Grey Knight, and you are a squad of around ten marines plus a captain, so while you have killed him he has taken a damn good toll on you all not only that but this is grave news. If there is one of these Holy Warriors then there will most certainly be more.

Luminus: You follow Hathor Maat and his warriors past the wall, the Iron Warriors around you rushing through the breaches and firing from the hip, but the Thousand Sons they move in an ordered phalanx firing in perfect bursts at the enemy. A head snaps back and a body falls to the floor, you speak the words the Apostle told you to and wonder again at what their purpose is, yet you have no time to ponder as the Sons of the Cyclops speed up and rush towards a specific redoubt. They rush inside and you are greeted by the screams of soldiers as their blood is boiled inside their veins, a feint aura of light eminating around Maat's head as he uses his powers, you aid him and use your own to help clear out the room. As you follow them through the various hallways it becomes apparent that they are following a certain path and seem to know where they are going, this is something that the Apostle should be notified about and soon, the Sons could be up to something. Get a secure link to someone up above and let them know, the best option would be Lynx as he is closest to you now. Once he is notified you can feel a stir in the warp and pause as Hathor pushes his automatons around a corner only for two of them to be quite literally blown apart by a mine. As you speak the words this time something is different, you can actually hear them screaming as they pass by you and out the redoubt towards a certain destination, why is this? 

Around the corner are two Fists, aid the Sons in defeating them and then be about your way. Why were their souls screaming and more important why were they headed towards a certain area?

Corius: What you had seen up above before entering the bunker, the bright flash of colors, was in fact a warhound titan something that you did not notice until it was almost too late. You alert Severus immediately so that he knows and can act accordingly, as you and your men spread out and make your way through the halls slaughering the soldiers in your way you come across a hallway without the lights working. Interested you move down it and see an open set of blast doors at the end of it, the pathway heading downward, yet what you see beyond the doors sparks your deep hatred. Three Imperial Fists are there, two of them seem to be working on something and the one in the middle is a covered in robes but you can pick out a shade of blue armor marking him as a Librarian, you immediately attempt to teleport but it does not work at all. Before you can even order your men forwards a large explosion goes off and brings half of the corridor down right in front of you blocking your path to the Fists and whatever they are trying to keep you from, alert Severus and let him know what is happening before continuing on. 

You begin to climb back up and come out inside an unmaned bunker with a few rockets and anti-armor weapons. Looking outside you see the warhound waiting to ambush your brothers, use the weapons to aide them once they have engaged the beast, aim for weak joints at the knee of elbows so as to cripple it. Depending on Severus's choice you may see him and few men plus Shamesu and his dreadnoughts or just Shamesu and his bretheren fighting the warhound, if Severus chooses to join the mighty Lord then you will have to coordinate with him what exactly happens and how the warhound is taken down, if not then i leave the details of the battle up to you but either way Shamesu will survive as will you but you will loose the majority of your men.

Severus: You recieve Corius's warning of the titan and let your men and Shamesu know of the danger,* "I will slay this beast brother, carry on or stay with me, it is your choice." *says Shamesu as he and the other dreadnoughts charge towards where the warhound supposedly waits in ambush. Now you have a choice, you can either join Lord Shamesu and take part in the glory of killing this warhound, or you can make your way into the bunkers and aid in slaughtering the defenders of this damned world. If you aide Shamesu then you will have to coordinate with Corius on what exactly happens but the warhound will be defeated and you, Shamesu and Corius will survive but the other dreadnoughts and most of Corius's squad will not. If you choose to enter the bunkers you will make your own way, killing all who attempt to stop you and eventually come out relatively close to an ammo depot, yet as you get closer your warptouched mind can sense something and you stop short, barely avoiding a round to the head. You look round and see a lone Grey Knight waiting for you and your men, this will indeed be an epic battle and a wonderous kill, yet it will be extremely difficult but I know that you can do it. Make your choice, aide Shamesu and Corius, or eventually make your way to the Grey Knight and kill him giving yourself glory.

Zamiel: You follow the Apostle as he flows from trench to trench killing all in his path, the might he weilds making you proud to be one of his elites. Suddenly he stops and you realize how far ahead you are from the rest of the Eighth, but that is not why he has stopped, you turn your head and can feel the warp within you writhing at being so close to such a warrior. Before you stands eight Imperial Fists, all of them veterans and all of them ready to kill you on the spot, but it is who accompanies them that is the real threat to you and your men....a Grey Knight. This will be an extremely tough battle, these men will NOT be easy to kill at all and two or three of the elites may be either badly injured or killed, which means their bodies will die but because they are connected to the Apostle their spirits will wait within him until he gives them a new host. The Apostle will take the Grey Knight, but as you move to aid him knowing that he is not yet at his full strength your talons are stopped dead in their tracks by a powerful blade, your warp essences screaming at being touched by it. 

The veteran sergeant stands before you, a veteran of hundreds of campaigns and from the looks of the medals and trophies on his armor he has killed many traitors in his lifetime, a true equal to test your might against. While he does not have any psychic powers his ornate armor is tooled with seals and such that protect him against such attacks, and on top of that his blade has been blessed and made holy, these veterans have been equipped to kill daemons and tainted warriors like yourself. Have fun trying to kill this man, you won't do it in your first response to this update, and you might not in the next one, this man has absolutely no fear of you or your abilities and neither do his brothers. Plus they are all equipped to deal with threats just like you, make the battle as realistic as possible, throw in one view of the Apostle fighting the Grey Knight and some others of the other elites fighting the other Fists.


Akakios: As you wonder at the Fist on the wall you see your brothers break through the front gate and numerous other breaches that had been made. The titan you are in makes it to the wall and begins to unload its deadly cargo upon the walls, you are to go with the rest of the iron warriors and clear out the walls. Your objective is to take the guns that are atop the walls and turn them inside and use them against the bunkers and redoubts that lie before the rest of the Eighth, while most would scoff at having to do this you recognize its importance to the survival and victory of the Eighth. As you exit the Titan there are still many guardsmen upon the walls fighting like they have never fought before, they recognize that they are no longer going to get out of this battle alive so they are fighting with the fury of madmen, kill as many as you want. 

Once you reach one of the still intact guns and begin supervising it being turned around and operated the titan you had been in makes its way through the shattered front gates and begins its assault on the lands before it. Such power, they were true gods of the battlefield, yet your thoughts are cut short as a bright explosion envelopes the princep's compartment smoke billowing around the mighty war machine. You hear a bellowing cry and look to see five warlord titans making there way from the Inner Keep, this is most definately news to you, you had not remembered there ever being a sect of Titans on this world. It makes no difference though, notify Thel that he and his titans have rivals now on this planet and that one of his titans has been hit, although its shields have saved it from certain death. The guns you are using can be used against the titans once they are within range, yet do you want to fire on them for fear of them blowing you to hell?


----------



## unxpekted22

Though it wasn't hate that fueled Eisen but pride, his captains words still drove him to kill even faster. Though... everyone who fought for anything hated something. 

It was a succession of miniature jet engines unleashing their wrath to the sides of whim, the raptors following Aresk's movement off of the high wall. He called on his own squad to make the same move. They landed amidst more enemies but his feet only landed in blood, nothing solid. Aresk sweeping away the pathetic soldiers with ease. Eisen tugged on every muscle in his body to keep up with the fluid movement of his captain. Aresk seemed to walk where ever he went and swing only a few times to kill dozens.

Aresk turned in front of him, and twisted back around flattening himself behind cover. The bolter rounds whizzed past, most impacting the trench dirt, but a few with the flesh of his squad members _"A grey knight eh? now this might be a challenge"_

Support him he would. Without hesitating he put his bolter up into the dirt and pulled himself out of the trench yelling for his squad to the same. A straight line was the fastest way and so to him it was the only way. His squad of chaos marines ran weapons held high roaring towards the holy figure, while Aresk took the trench path beside and below. It was a diagonal cut. 

three of his mariens went down from more bolter fire, but it was enough of a distraction to let Aresk reach the grey knight. the twin linked bolter was no longer a problem for them. Eisen reached the knight second to his captain ducking a blow meant for Aresks's neck, and coming up with the back end of his bolter into the grey knight's side, which hardly did anything, Eisen wasnt even sure if he saw a dent appear. 

He was knocked back and rolling over looking backwards commanded the two heavy bolter weilding members of his squad to stand back.

The rest rushed the knight, running past Eisen as he made it back to his feet while Aresk dueled the silver clad warrior. Limbs dressed in dull grey armor mixed with black and yellow stripes flew past him as he drew his short sword. The knight knocked Aresk back for a moment. the possible gap in time the grey knight was liley hoping for was filled with Eisen's leap, jabbing his short sword into the knight's gut section. The knight took it the wound without faltering so as to bring his spear back around and push a chunk of Eisen's side away form the rest of him. 

Eisen was then lifted off his feet as he grabbed his gushing wound, and thrown into the trench near Aresk. He commanded his last two remaining squad members, the heavy bolters, to fire now that no one was left standing but the grey knight. He stood peering his head over the ditch still holding his side, crimson eyes watching as orange and yellow flaring heavy bolter rounds shredded the grey knight without mercy. As the word mercy came to mind he had a second's thought of surprise that the word still even existed in his vocabulary.

He commended his heavy weapon squad mates, even though it felt like an organ or two were starting to slip out from beneath his skin; plop out the side of his gut and hit the dirt.

He turned toward Aresk holding his wound with a blood covered gauntlet and laughed through gritted teeth, saying, "_Grey knight down sir! but I'm sure there are more prizes about. Where shall we head next?"_

a few flickers of doubt were crossing his mind as he spoke the words through the vox of his battle helm, the long horns sprouting out the top of his head even seemed to to hurt now, probably blood loss. He really kind fo wanted to get out of the battle right about now and get patched up...but not in front of Aresk. He would request no such thing; only accept it if offered. At the same time, a new pride was welling insid eof his gushing belly, he had helped kill a grey knight, one of the Imperium's best of the best. Now he wanted to kill one himself, alone with no help.


----------



## Deus Mortis

Corius and his squad stood in the bunker, and Corius was making a swift tactical assessment of where to go to next, while Mithras was trying to get into another copy of the 3-D map they could use. Suddenly Corius realised a fatal error. How he had missed it he didn't know, but at the back of the Imperial army stood a colossal Warhound titan. "Severus..." Corius spoke down the vox, his eyes firmly fixed on the titan, waiting to see it's movements. "...we have a situation. The imperial dogs have brought a warhound titan with them. We must destroy it." Even as he spoke the words, he realised that it sounded like he was ordering Severus to do something, an often fatal mistake he had observed other foolish Astartes make, and hastily added. "What would you do about it, and I will follow your lead." The response he got did not seem to indicate that Severus was displeased with him, but it did not show that he had joy either, but such emotion was rare to see his captain experience. In a low growl of Severus' cold metallic voice, the response came "_Destroy it Sergeant, ensure that the Second strikes the killing blow and I will reward you personally._"
"It will be done my lord" Corius responded swiftly as Mithras spoke to him
"Sir!"
"Yes Mithras?"
"I've got into the tactical display. It appears there is a tunnel that goes underground in the next bunker, but after that the display cuts out."
"Then we move. On me" Corius said as he smashed in another control pannel, and the doors slid open cooperatively. The squad covered the distance in mere seconds, and Corius battle signed for melta bombs to be placed, and Desin placed them. On his fingers he counted down from three...two...one...and the blast doors disintegrated into molten slag and the terminator squad charged through. Inside was a company command squad, including a commissar, numbering five. Each, silently, declared who they would kill and split up. Naturally, Corius took the company commander, who's cigarette was still in his mouth. He fired his bolt pistol at Corius half heartedly as if naturally expecting that Corius would drop down. The bolt hit Corius forehead, but the shimmering black scales glinted under the impact, but did nothing to indicate that they were weak, and the shell detonated without harm to Corius. However, the company commander hadn't waited to see this, and had spun back to kill the other, supposedly, weak members his squad. Corius rushed up behind him and stabbed him through the heart and lungs. The energized claws were drenched in blood and protruded from the man's chest. He stared down at his own quarterized wounds and the cigarette dropped from his mouth. It fell and impacted on the ground and sparks scattered over the floor as the commander slid off Corius's claws. He looked around and all the other members of his squad had disposed of their opponents just as easily, Celux had decapitated the Commissar, and his head was rolling on the floor leaving a trail of blood behind it, and the other two members of the squad had butchered their opponents. Desin had the standard bearer on the floor his foot on his chest. The man was struggling, but Desin lent down and grabbed the man's power sword, and drove it through his abdomen. The man howled in pain, but Desin continued to drive it down, clearly into the ground so it wouldn't come back out. Afterward, the man's screams receded and Desin picked up the company standard. "Here's what I think of your Corpse-God" he said contemptuously, and set fire to it with his standard, before tossing it carelessly onto the man, and the screams kicked up again and orange light bathed the bunker. "Let's go" Corius said, and the squad descended into a network of underground catacombs.

The squad moved systematically, clearing tunnel by tunnel, man by man, leaving nothing but death in their wake. They had come up in a few bunkers of little relevance, slaughtering all who stood in their path. None could stay their wrath, but many tried. They all had minor dents and scratches in their armour, but this was war, such things always happened. None of these things were serious. As they were delving deeper into the endless network of catacombs, there came a corridor which had no lights turned on. Corius, and the rest of his squad were curious and so followed it. At the end of it was an open set of blast doors, but through that was Corius' deepest hatred; the Imperial fists. He felt his squad tense, and Corius tried to teleport. Even if they were veterans, being surprised as he would make them, they wouldn't stand a chance. He could see a machine that two of them working on, but that was of little concern to him. to his dismay, his teleport refused to work. Desin howled suddenly "Imperial scum!" And charged forwards. The one not working spun around to look at them. Corius picked out shades of blue in his armour as his cape fluttered with the momentum of his spin, marking his armour as a Librarian. As if by some unseen and unheard command, the corridor walls exploded inwardly. Huge shards of stone sheered through terminator armour and spun Desin 180 degrees to face his squad. Then the ceiling, with no support against the weight of earth pressing down on it collapsed and Corius watched in horror as Desin was reduced to a wafer thin sheet under the pressure from above. Blood trickled from the now collapsed corridor, and they all knew their ally was dead. A veteran of the Horus Heresy, killed by an underhanded trick from some warp scum Imperial Fist. Corius wanted to howl in rage at the injustice of it, but didn't. Instead he forced himself to suppress most of it, only letting out a venomous hiss. "Where is the nearest exit?" he demanded coldly. 
"Just two of miles away sir" was the response in and equally irate tone.
"Good" Corius spat. "We will make every single citizen of this forsaken planet pay for Desin's death" He vowed to himself, and his squad acknowledged this as a vow they would fulfil. 

When they made it out of the catacombs, they arrived in an unmanned bunker. In it were various anti-armour weapons, rocket launchers, melta guns and other weapon. Not many, but enough for each man, even Desin if he hadn't been so rash. Corius smashed in another control pannel and the doors slid open to reveal a familiar sight. A lumbering titan was moving slowly towards the Eighth, ready to ambush them in their assault. Corius ran back in and picked up a melta gun before ordering "Pick up any weapon you can carry, we are taking down that titan!" All his remaining men moved with extra momentum, anxious at the thought of bringing down one of the Imperium's 'god'-machines. As they rushed outside, Two missiles streaked over Corius' head and landed cleanly on the titan's side. Celux had grabbed both rocket launchers in the bunker and had fired them swiftly at the titan. This did little more than angry it, as it turned it's attention to them "Split" was the one word call Corius called, and high calibre round thundered into where the squad had just been. It's weapons more suited to packet units or larger targets, the titan had trouble dealing with such a small unit. However, it was doing well, and the terminators weren't doing much. From either side, plasma bolts, rockets, las-beams melta lances caressed it's hull, but did little else than scratch it's paint work. A few shots penetrated, but none seriously, and seemed to do no major damage. If they were to have a hope of defeating it, they needed back-up, but Severus had called for Corius to bring it down, and he was not about to disappoint his captain. As if to answer to his silent prayer the titan started to divert it's energies else where. Corius could see, from the titan's rear, came several lances of energies and munitions. In a parody of the squads they had once been part of in life, Shamesu lead a large group of Dreadnought against the titan. This clearly being the major threat, the titan turned on them and opened fire on them instead. Glad of the momentary reprieve, Corius voxed his squad "Aid Shamesu. I will rejoin you soon". The word 'rejoin' confused his men and Mithras said back 
"Where are you going sir?"
"Into the belly of the beast" was his reply before teleporting to, hopefully, the top of the titan.

The transition was even more uncomfortable and not as instantaneous as it usually was, and Corius knew something was wrong even before he had seen where he was. He was about 20 feet too high, and 7 meters too far back. He was in free fall, and off the back end of the titan. If he didn't do something soon, he would impact on the floor and surely die. For some unknown reason, the titan turned to face another threat, and Corius was now withing arms reach of the titan's hull and inside it's void shields. Thinking quickly and desperately, Corius unsheathed his claws and stuck them into the titan's hull. To be sure it would do no lasting damage at all to the titan, but it would stop him from falling off. But his momentum was so great that his claws slid through the hull and he started to plummet towards the bottom of it. His hand grew hotter through friction, and Corius wasn't sure if he would be able to stop in time. But he started to slow down, and as he was about to drop off the edge, he stopped. His legs we below the titan's hull but he wasn't going any further. He sighed in relief, clamped the melta gun to his mag-clip at his side, and began to us his claws a grappling hooks to climb back up. It was gruelling and took many minutes, all the while he could see munitions detonating on the beast's hull and void shields. As he clambered on top of the titan, he marvelled but for an instant. From here he could see the entire battle taking place. He could see the Second company, his company, cutting a bloody swath through the defenders, as well at the other companies doing the same. Men were dying every where, but individual lives were irrelevant when whole worlds died at the Eighth's hand. *This must be what it feels like to be a God* Corius thought. Suddenly, another explosion made the hull shudder and Corius was brought back to reality. He unclipped the melta gun and carved a hole in the top of the titan using the whole fuel tank. This took precious seconds, but during this time, he saw the work of Shamesu and his men and Corius' own men. At one point, the main body had drawn the titan's fire, whilst Ares and two Dreadnoughts had snuck round the side to attack the Plasma blast gun, which had claimed two other Dreadnoughts already, freeing them from their iron tombs. As the void shield gave way, the small group lashed out with lascannon and plasma blast, which made the gun weep green, radioactive slag. The gun returned in like and annihilated them for their insolence with a large blast of plasma that burned their atoms from the planet. Corius had no time to morn his squad mate and the hole was finally cut and Corius dived into the belly of the titan. 

Inside was whirring cogs, hissing pistons and the low bass growl of the generator. But, it was devoid of bio-life forms. Corius was on the upper deck, but he would need to make his way to the middle deck and then to the control room or the head of the titan, where the Princepts and Modratii sat controlling the titan. As he made his way down, a Mechanicum priest came up to investigate the breach in the hull. Corius dived at the man-machine, and the two hit the deck below, where he was going and the Mechanicum slave had come from. The man struggled, and his servo-arms desperatly tried to claw at Corius, but Corius managed to wrestle his knee onto the man's chest, pining him there, before driving his claws into the Mechanicum's chest, puncturing his heart. Even still, machines were difficult to kill, and Corius had to lacerate most of the man's chest and face to get the machine arm's to fall silent. Holstered at his hip was a bolt pistol, and whilst Corius had not weilded one for a while, his aim was still good, and so he took it. Corius made his way to the control centre without further inhibitions. As the blast doors slid open, Corius shot one of the Modratii before he had even noticed his presence, and the other as he drew his las-pistol. The Princepts was still linked to the titan, and couldn't react even if he wanted to. Corius walked round to one side of his command throne and spoke into the external vox, with the bolt pistol to the man's head. _Warriors of Iron, hear me. The days is ours, this world shall fall. None can stand the wrath of the Eighth Grand Company, even the God-machines fall before us. Cower mere mortals, for we are your doom, your death, your destruction. We are the Iron Warriors, the Hammer of Olympia!_ With that, Corius shot the Princepts through the head. Severed from any link of control, the machine spirit went crazy from the damaged suffered and the lack of a princepts. The generator overloaded, and an magnificent nuclear explosion tore the rear of the titan apart, circuits fried, munitions exploded in their weapons, and the titan cried it's death song. In the end, more explosions tore through the defenceless titan, destroying it's stable structure and brought it crashing down on top of itself, and Corius watched as the ground rushed up to meet the command center, crushing it into half the space it had previously. Corius was flung to the front and lay there for a moment, as the control board flickered sparks as the only form of light in the darkened chamber. From a distance, Corius thought he could here the whir of a chain weapon, but as it grew stronger Corius stood up and wondered where it was coming from. Suddenly, a small beam of light appeared in the top of the cockpit, and them spread into a circle as something carved a hole in the titan's head. As several inches of metal fell to the floor and daylight flooded in, a hand reached down. Corius took it, and knew from the chainfist on the end it was Mithras. He was pulled out of the cockpit and onto the fallen body of the titan. Not surprisingly, only Mithras and Shamesu were standing there. He had watched Desin die earlier, and seen from the top of the titan Ares be reduced to a pile of molten slag, but Celux's fate was unknown to him "Celux?" He asked inquisitivly.
"His lower half was torn apart by Vulcan rounds. But he died a noble death, brought down the titan with two rocket to the knee joint before it crushed him in falling down" Was the despondent response from Mithras. Corius didn't blame him speaking of Celux as a statistic of war, it made it easier than thinking of them as friends and allies. "You and your men have done the Eighth proud" was the only words from Shamesu. He couldn't tell whether this was a genuine compliment, or one laced with resentment at them having take his share of glory, but Corius was sure the ancient had more than his share of commendations through millenia of service. Corius had done what Severus said, and the glory for the kill of a titan was firmly with him and the Second company, but it had come at a heft cost. However, there was no time to ponder such things, as there was still a battle raging around them, and they still had parts to play. The three of them, two men flanked by a mighty Dreadnought, made their brisk trot back to the battlefield, to get stuck into the final stages of the assault. This war wasn't over yet...


----------



## Euphrati

The fog of battle had fallen over him; coiling tighter with every scream torn from an imperial throat, every wet crack of bone, every ruby droplet of arterial blood that pattered off gun-metal grey armour. This was what he was forged for.

Oathbreaker’s skin-bound haft was stained with the blood of the corpse-god’s failure and creaked under his grip as Severus shifted his massive weight and swept the thunder hammer in a low arc at the reinforced wall of the bunker before him. The bright spitting lines of laz-gun fire cut through the air around him with the buzzing annoyance of a thousand gnats and solid shot raked indigo sparks from the face of Shattersoul, the daemon-bound stormshield quivering against his left arm with the thirst for yet more lives.

The mirrored face of Oathbreaker impacted upon the center of an embossed Aquila with a report that rivaled that of a titan’s main gun, the wall of the bunker exploding inwards in a lethal rain of broken stone and shorn metal bars. The twin heavy bolters that were ranking the advancing ranks of the Second from the bunker’s interior fell silent as every life inside was instantly snuffed out, shredded into so many scraps of frayed meat. Severus was already a dozen loping strides away, the fanged edge of Shattersoul buried in the chest of a imperial officer who had dared to stand his ground before the Iron Warrior.

The man’s fingers scrapped bloody lines down the blackened skull of the stormshield’s façade, unable to even scream in the grip of agony while his soul was feasted on even as his heart pumped crimson into the black dirt upon which he lay. Severus paused, leaning down to relish the fool’s last moments; the man’s dark eyes reflecting Severus’ vicious grin of silver-black fangs and the hellish glow of his augmented left eye as they glazed over in death. The Captain of the Second straightened to survey the ebb and flow of the battle lines, flicking the corpse off the edge of his shield with a casual gesture.

The towering form of Shamesu emerged from the smoke-shrouded field of battle nearby, the massive warmachine striding up the mound of blood stained earthworks and flanked by the black iron and yellow chevrons of its semi-dead brethren. Severus gave a sneer of contempt; the presence of the Apostle’s second in command was a visible reminder of the glory of Warsmith that had been denied him and the faint echo of agonizing displeasure the daemon prince had rewarded his triumph with only served to stoke the growing flame of his fury.

_Ten thousand years, Vilhelm. Ten thousand years I have cut your name into the twisted flesh of the Imperium’s corpse. Sector by sector, system by system, world by world; remember this world well… it is the last I will lay at your feet._

Severus could feel the mercurial blood in his chaos-touched veins resonate with the caress of the warp; knowing full well that the Black Apostle would hear the unspoken words as clearly as if Severus had spat them in his fanged face and uncaring of the prince’s fury.

The vox crackled, refocusing his thoughts from the touch of the warp. Corius’ voice was a grating rumble as he spoke of a warhound concealed within the myriad of redoubts and bunkers of the Imperial lines before them. Shamesu’s booming voice cut across the battlefield to him and Severus gave a low growl at the thought of having to share the glory of the kill with any but the Second. He flipped the vox to a private channel as he turned towards the bunkers,

‘Destroy it Sergeant, ensure that the Second strikes the killing blow and I will reward you personally.’

Corius would not fail him and live.

(ooc- the bunkers & Grey Knight will be in a second part as soon as a few others post!)


----------



## Masked Jackal

Luminus strode confidently through the breach, crunching little bits of rubble underneath his power-armored boots. The scum that he could see were of no consequence, easily dispatched by the bolters of those faithful to the true gods. The Thousand Sons he followed slew just the same, though they did so in an organized phalanx, moving in perfect order. Such a tiring thing, these automatons could not even introduce a little chaos into their actions.

One of the thing's heads jerked back, and Luminus spoke the words given to him by the Apostle, the soul exiting the armor and flying to some corner of the battlefield. There was little time to contemplate the meanings of these events however, as Luminus' fellow sorcerer pushed the mechanations towards a redoubt. Luminus stepped in calmly after the others, and lifted the veil on his own psychic powers as he saw Hathor boil the blood of the guardsmen in their veins. Luminus focused on the few who escaped the other sorcerers wrath, driving them insane with small glimpses of the warp.

As they progressed through the corridors, it became obvious they were following a set route. Hathor had known something, and he hadn't informed the Apostle. Luminus manipulated the ancient communication system in his helmet, keeping his eye on Hathor, in case he should look back and suspect what Luminus was doing. The nearest frequency seemed to be that of...Lynx, as he recalled. "Lynx, do you hear me?" Luminus couldn't be sure this function of his power armor still worked, it hadn't been used in so long. He had maintained it, but that guaranteed nothing.


----------



## deathbringer

Power seeped through his veins, ran electric currents of excitement through his limbs. they moved on, barriers, humans no resistance to the sheer force of the astartes. Irresistable, unquenchabele force slicing through the human ranks. They were beyond them, they surpassed them, blade and barrel instruments of mortality, elevating their sense of immortality.

They were caught up in it, caught in the rush of adrenaline, seized by their presence in this moment. Sabre snarled his grizzled face torn apart by leering sneers of contempt, the greast mass of his terminator armour crushing the skulls of the deceased beneath him, a juggernaut of destruction, his shadow casting darkness over the face of the avatar of death that danced alongside him. Lion's spear glittered flowing stroke after flowing stroke decapating and disemboweling, the great mane whipping against the shoulder pauldron of Jag whose movement still graceful and dignified had taken on an exhilerated jerking quality. Only Leo seemed unaffected, his visage the twin of Lion's maniacal grin yet its opposite. Grim and dour, the distaste at the bloodshed, at the sheer brutality of the massacre left his mouth a thin line, his eyes ringed by disgust. Cheetah's heavy bolter swung and he rushed ahead towards the bend, great war crys exploding from his lips as the banner swung from his hand.

At the cornor he seemed to pause, the warcries suspended in shock before reappearing as a bloodcurdling howl tore across his lips. Then he was falling bullets tearing through his body, whistling past the banner which seemed to remain upright even as he fell, pondorously swinging in the wind, suspended by disbelief. 
Then it fell toppling towards the mud, only to be clasped in an iron fist. A huge fist, a fist that refused to lie down. Fergus stood in the midst of the passage, his mighty form infront of the mass of torn flesh that had once been the banner bearer of the honour guard. Bullets rippled off the immense suit of armour, pattering off the mighty steel like the raindrops of a tropical storm. 
He returned to them slowly, the banner clasped in one hand, his eyes fixed upon Lynx.

"Olympian Terminator Armor, we perfected the Lords of Mars' creation. Three fists around the corner set up behind a damn good barrier, your orders captain?"

Then the situation became real, his eyes began to transmit to his brain, the torn carcass that had once been a friend, protegee and trusted brother became an empty ball of grief which twisted into hateful seering rage as Fergus spoke, identified the murderers. 
Fists
Anger threatened to overcome him, he wanted to storm around the cornor and kill each one with his batre hands, throttle the life from each in his bloody rage. He could feel the hatred of those yellow figures he had glimpsed from afar building within him, filling him, replacing the emptiness of loss with a need to kill, to sate himself upon them.

"The 3rd have lost valorous blood tonight, i intend to drain it from the fists with my very own hands"
his attention twisted to his honour guard.
"Leo, throw two flashes down there, carefully mind, no risk do not get hurt. Sabre. Jag step out, blast the barrier, the ino cannon and railgun should do more than enough damage, then charge. Lion, blades ready, with me."

He turned to Fergus. his eyes tracing the words guilded in gold upon the banner staff
"Thank you. " 
A simple click of his fingers and the honour guard sprang into motion. Two flashes exploded, rqwo massive explosions and the tearing of rent metal and lynx was sprinting, the kick of stimulants in his power armour thrusting him forward, his power sword clasped in two hands, hunched as panic fire whistled past his ear, a single word tearing his lips asunder
~Vengeance~


----------



## Lord of the Night

Zamiel ran on all fours as he chased the Apostle, the bloodlust had risen so far that he had abandoned all pretence of humanity, taking to running like a wild animal let loose from its cage to kill. His metallic claws tore into the ground as he sprinted after Lord Vilhelm who was making the Imperial defence seem as frail as an Eldar's bones, it was inspiring to see him turn once staunch defenders into gibbering madmen with his mere presence and to eviscerate any who dared cross his path and defile his unholy essence with their worthless weapons. Zamiel could feel the warp writhing within him and knew that others could see it, his veins glowing bright black under his silver skin lending him an even more terrifying visage, and the ghastly fog that ever surrounded his form was thickening and even suffocating those who attempted to meet the berserking Chaos Space Marine in combat.

Suddenly the dread Apostle stopped, Zamiel skidding as he halted his super-human speed to stay behind his lord, the Elite Guard doing the same as each one stopped their brisk pace and stood at attention always as statues bristling with killing intent. Zamiel could sense the distance they had taken from the rest of the Host, it made him smile to realize that he and he alone had been singled out to join the Apostle in combat. It was the highest honour, especially to a kill-frenzied murderer like Zamiel the Exalted, and even better if the other worms seethed with envy at Zamiel's second ascension. Zamiel's eyes however were focused directly ahead, at the reason for the Apostle's halt. Eight loyalist Astartes, all bastard sons of Rogal Dorn's most precious Imperial Fists, were arrayed in front of them, every one of them a Veteran as marked by their golden helmets. His aether-mask's grin grew wider, the Possessed Astartes had killed many veterans during the Heresy and would relish this chance to slay more of them and devour their gene-seed. And yet they were not the best morsel before him, a Grey Knight clad in armour the same lustrous silver as Zamiel's rippling skin, a true Daemonhunter had come to slay the Apostle, the thought brought a bark of laughter from the Possessed Marine's hidden maw.

Zamiel lurched forward and crouched, ready to pounce on the Daemonhunter. He had heard of these blessed, to the False Emperor at least, warriors but had never seen one before. The warp was screaming hate within him, Zamiel's normally battle-crazed mind growing calmer at the sight of this foe. This wasn't a loyalist maggot he could butcher in a frenzy, one wrong move and he'd be dead, this foe was born to deal with the denizens of the Warp and those who invited them into their flesh like Zamiel had done with Exaltius and now the Black Apostle. Zamiel would savour this kill, or at least he would have but a mental command from the Apostle stayed his claws. The Grey Knight was his to kill and nobody elses, though he didn't like it Zamiel obeyed and turned his attentions to the sergeant of these Veteran scum. He was clad in the typical yellow of an Imperial Fist but his helmet was absent, revealing a craggy face marked with scars and four studs above his brow, this meant he had served at least 200 years. Zamiel chuckled, 200 years would soon be ended in blood and broken blades.

'Loyalist worm, you are most unfortunate to face me. I have slain many of your whelp brood in the Heresy, your elite Terminators and your Chaplain's fell before me as I broke their bones and crushed their hearts in my talons. I will defile your armour and destroy its machine-spirit, I will kill you and your men, and devour all your gene-seed and all of your predecessor's memories that I may forever laugh at their ultimate deaths.'

Before the sergeant could get a word in edgewise Zamiel charged forward, raking a talon against the sergeant's chest, splitting the aquila in two. Growling an oath the sergeant drew his blade and slashed, scoring a shallow cut across the traitor's arm, though it was a glancing wound at best the cut singed and burnt, and hurt.. like nothing Zamiel had ever felt before. It was as if the Warp within him had been cut, this filth would die painfully and his soul would scream songs of agony!. Leaping back Zamiel let his warp presence fly at the loyalist, expecting him to melt into sludge as his mind did the same quite literally, yet his armour glew and Zamiel was forced back, slamming into a rock wall. Quickly jumping back up onto all fours Zamiel took almost a second to survey the battlefield. His elites had engaged the loyalists and were doing well, all five were striking blades against the loyalists and two Fists were dead on the ground ripped apart by autocannon rounds, surprised by the elite's weapon-morphing abilities they had not reacted in time to avoid being blasted into pieces.

One of the Elite Guard, wielding a very wickedly serrated halberd type blade, smashed his blade against the Power Axe wielded by a veteran Imperial Fist who was gradually being forced back against a wall and to his violent demise. A second Elite whose arms had turned into large metal maul blades was struggling to maneuver through two loyalists who were using their lighter armour and teamwork to score wounds across the glistening frame of the Daemon-enhanced guard. A third loyalist charged forward and impaled his Power Sword through the Guard's back, a split-second of distraction allowing the two Astartes to drive their Power Swords through the Elite's arms and in a riposte through his head. The dying Elite's body dissolved into a black mist before he could even hit the ground, the smog enveloping the three loyalists in a miasma of darkness that even their pre-natural sight could not pierce. As one of the loyalists turned to escape a claw pierced his throat, two more following into his eyes and pulping his brain. Zamiel pulled the Space Marine forward and bit into his throat, blood spurting from the wound as the already-dead loyalist spasmed in the Possessed Marine's grip. Two small black orbs, not much bigger than a bolter round were sucked out into Zamiel's mouth, his fangs tearing them apart as the sliced meat rushed down his throat. To devour the genetic memory of hundreds of loyalists in a single instant.. exhilarating just barely described the experience. This particular loyalist's gene-ancestor had fought at Terra, and had been killed by an Iron Warrior's siege cannon. Twice this scum had been killed by the Legion, and this time the kill had been finished.

A cry of rage drew the Iron Warrior's attention as a second veteran charged at Zamiel who dropped the defiled warrior's corpse and lashed out with his tail, scoring a blow against the charging marine's shoulder, knocking him back a step. Seizing the initiative Zamiel bounded past him, knocking the fool down, and out of the fog. The sergeant was in front of him, his blade brandished and face carved in rage, he had seen the death of his battle-brother and his gene-line and was eager for revenge. Zamiel's claws flurried at the sergeant who expertly blocked each one, centuries of experience was no match for millennia however and a few blows broke through the loyalist's guard and scored slashes across his armour, yet none pierced the hard adamantium and ceramite construct. For an instant both combatants locked and stared each other down, yet Zamiel could see much more than just his frontal guard.

Behind them a battle of titanic proportions was being waged. The Grey Knight's halberd, bearing blessed symbols and glowing starkly white against the darkness of the Apostle's presence. This loyalist was likely a Captain or higher, no single battle-brother would be sent to slay a figure of dread like the Black Apostle, and was fighting with the skill that can only be honed by fighting against the most powerful of opponents without rest. For every strike that he made only an expert response by the Apostle who had fought in the entirety of the Great Crusade, the Heresy and the millennia of warfare in the Eye of Terror that only the most vicious killers like Vilhelm and Zamiel could survive and thrive within. The Apostle fought as furiously as a Berzerker of the Red King, moving as quickly as a scion of the Dark Prince, planning each move as meticulously as the Shaper of Fate's own Change Lords, and defying each kill-stroke as steadfastly as the Plague God's diseased ones. Zamiel admired him beyond anyone else, even more so then the Primarch Perturabo, for nobody in the Eighth Host could have fought this battle, even himself he admitted both grudgingly and privately.

All around the combat-locked warriors the Elite Guard were battling the Veteran Imperial Fists. Only five Fist veterans remained, each of the Elite Guard battling one of them in single combat, apart from one Elite wielding two twin-bladed sickles fending off two loyalists, one already bleeding from a deep wound that his gene-enhancements could not heal. Zamiel roared in the sergeant's face, driving him back a step as the heat seared his eyes, giving Zamiel the offensive stance. A hail of razor-sharp talons tore at the sergeant who continued to defend against them as best he could, but he couldn't keep it up forever. Sooner or later Zamiel would get past his blade and end this fight, and the Astartes' gene-legacy with it.


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## Captain Stillios

Maximus laughed in glee as the remaining Guardsmen fell back before his brothers wrath, off in the distance he saw one of the Titans fall and grinned untill he realised that Corius was the one who had brought it down. He forgot about it for now and focussed on his target an ammo dump however he was faced with the problem of the ground between him and the dump being packed with heavy weapons, trenches and bunkers. As he wondered how to bypass them Maximus saw a huge explosion off to the right and saw that Barok and the 1st Company charged through a hole in the wall drawing most of the Loyalist attention and fire.

"Iron within, Iron without!" Maximus bellowed then gunned his jump pack untill he landed in the first trench which for the moment was empty, they kept jumping forwards from trench to trench untill they arrived at the ammo dump.
"Lets see how they fare with nothing to shoot with, Velos, plant grenades on anything explosive but make sure to refill your own weapons first, that goes for all of you!" He ordered, as Velos started to lay the charges Maximus heard the click of a bolter trigger being pulled back a moment before one of Velos's marines head's exploded into a pink mist. Instantly the dump errupted with bolter fire as four of the bastard Sons of Dorn appeared from four differant directions firing bolters from the hip at the squad. Maximus and Cadoras ducked down behind some high explosive demo charges which the Fists dared not shoot at.

"Squad disperse and use any available cover, two to each Fist, Hassan you stay back and aid the first pair to lose a brother if that happens"

Sprinting from his position behind the demo charges he moved to some armour piercing rounds for a Leman Russ then fired his jump pack and leaped over the ammo just as Cadoras fired his pistol then followed Maximus into close combat, the fired shell impacted the loyalist on the right arm ruining his aim and leaving him open for Cadoras to slam his chain sword down onto the bright yellow breastplate. The man grunted from the force but his armour held and he slammed a kick into Cadoras's face sending him sprawling.
Maximus took the opening and hacked his power sword through the out stretched leg severing it at the knee.

Cadoras scrambled to his feet, saw that this marine was down and went to help Velos's pair.
"Traitor" The loyalist gasped through the pain, Maximus simply grinned then spat into his eyes blinding him.
"Your corpse-god cannot help you now!" He smirked then decapitated the fallen marine with one stroke of his power axe. Looking around he saw that all of the fists were down but Velos had taken a combat knife to the shoulder, Denset was bleeding from a deep cut on his brow and then there was the marine that had fallen when the fists had emerged.
"Velos detonate the grenades as soon as we are out of here" Maximus grunted then picked up the decapitated head of the Fist he had slain. As he left the dump and the grenades detonated he gunned his jump pack so he soared above the battlefield.

"Your walls fall to our guns, your men die to our blades, even your precious _space marines_ cannot help you now, look on us and know your death!" He roared in a voice that could be heard by the guardsmen bellow him then he hurled the Imperial Fists helmeted head into them and landed.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm

[Well lady and gents i would like to apologise but i am going to have to close this down. At the time it had started i knew i had the time for it, the different ranges in rank and abilities and whatnot, but sadly it has taken too long to complete for various reasons and at this point in time i do not have the time to give my brainchild the proper care that it needs to finish growing properly. 

Believe me when i say that i truly enjoyed GMing this Rp and i feel as if it has definately helped me in growing immensely in that department. Each and every one of you is an amazing Rper and writer and i can shed a tear of happiness at the quality of posts that you have all put up time and time again, i only hope that my updates were of good enough quality for you all.

So sadly i must close the Hammer of Olympia. Yet this is not and will not be the end to the Apostle and the glorious Eighth Grand Company, they will most assuredly be heard from in the near future in one way or another. What i am going to do is reveal to you all what i had in store for you :victory: some of you had two ways that you could have gone so for those that do i will cover both angles of what could have possibly happened. Bare with me this will be long :laugh:]

The Eighth Grand Company: Ok so first im going to give a brief overview of why the Apostle had attacked this planet in the first place and what he was after. I dont know how many of you have read the Horus Heresy novel Legion about the Alpha Legion but in it was a weapon of chaos called a Black Cube. While it does not state that there were more of these weapons it does not also state that it was the only one, so i took the liberty of placing one beneath this massive fortress world. 

That was what the Apostle was after a weapon to end all weapons, one that would elevate his power above just about everyone else, even abaddon. For those of you who have not read my fluff on the Eighth the Apostle loathes Abaddon, quite literally hates him, and would only grudgingly take orders from him and then only if Perturabo had ordered him to do so. Anyways there was a Black Cube hidden under the planet, and the Imperium knew it, hence the heavy defences, the random warp generator in that was found in the bastion, the appearance of the grey knights and the fists also.

Now little did any of you that even though you were spread across the battlefield that your decisions would have a direct effect on the outcome of the other players. So im starting with Luminus lol

Luminus: So I dont know if you remember the strange sarcophogus that the Thousand Sons had brought and placed within the bastion, well you were directly connected to it. I assume you also know about Shamesu, the mighty dreadnought that is second in command of the Eighth, well he is also connected to it. Over the years the Apostle has acquired many friends in high places and was able to call in a favor of one of his Thousand Sons debtors. The purpose of the sarcophogus was to hold an untouched and unharmed Astartes body, yet it was without a soul and filled with Iron Warrior's geneseed. 

The Apostle had seen a vision of his oldest friend, Shamesu, dying in this battle which he would, and sought to find a way out for his ally. This was it, yet he knew that the Thousand Sons would enact some sort of trickery and Vilhelm was not keen on having his oldest comrade be a pawn of theirs. The words he had you speaking as each Thousand Son died was a spell that took their souls as power to break the enchantment that they had on the sarcophogus, therefore when Shamesu died and his soul entered that body it would be his and his alone. 

At the end of the siege, depending on how it ended, you would be offered a place within the Eighth.

Maximus: Unbeknownest to you this would be your last battle as an Astartes. You would continue fighting until the keep was reached and then you would keep on fighting until the battle was finally over. It would be glorious and bloody but at the end you and Corius would eventually come head to head and you would fight, i would have left the fight completely up to chance, possibly tossed a coin haha. either way you would have won or lost, would you have won you would have gained the enmity of Severus and most of the men in the Second, but you would have earned the favor of the Apostle and would be cleared of your dishonor for your quarrel with Corius.

had you have lost the duel you would have been....well dead. yet there could have been another opening for life for you, it would have been one of servitude for the rest of eternity but im sure Maximus would have chosen it. If you had fought well and died the Apostle would have raised you to lead his elite guard, the fate of Zamiel's demise leaving a spot open for one of ruthless ambition and strong mind. 

Corius: Your last man would have died soon after the death of the titan. Your destruction of the various machines and devices that you found as you and your now dead squad trecked through the Imperial bunkers would have aided the Second, and more importantly Severus, in reaching the Keep first and in taking the great honor of taking the Keep while the other companies cleaned house. Yet as you got closer to the keep yourself you came across another warhound, and this time you were not prepared at all. 

You, Shamesu and your last man would all be hit, the fire killing Shamesu and your man but blowing you halfway across the trenches where you would watch Thel fire mercilessly from his Imperator titan at the warhound and tear it to pices. You would continue fighting, battered and bloodied until finally entering the keep to find Maximus before you, the two of you would duel. if you won you would have brought even more glory to the Second and earned the apostle's favor, this time him actually granting you boons and more mutations. 

should you have failed and been killed by maximus and fought appeasingly you would have been elevated to lead the apostle's elite guard.

Zamiel: Sadly my friend you were meant for death the whole Rp, the Apostle had a single purpose for you and you served it just how he knew you would. after fighting the Grey Knight and the fists you would all enter the keep and slaughter any that came across your paths. yet instead of rising through the keep to take out the Imperial leader you would head down through tunnels into the crust of the planet and eventually reach a set of huge blast doors. 

this could have gone two ways, one way the doors would be open and you would meet Lynx, the captain of the Third inside with his command squad and the Terminator Fergus and his men. outside would be the lone body of an Imperial Fist Captain who bore an almost identical appearance to the captain of the Third. You would have followed the Apostle to where the holding area of the cube was and would have been met by four grey knights. the battle would have been hellish and many of the elite gaurd would have lost their bodies but in the end the four knights would have sacrificed themselves in an effort to banish the Apostle's soul.

You would have stepped in, or rather the Apostle would make you step in, and taken the blow of psychic force yourself. the power of it would have been too much for your weak soul to handle and instead of banishment it would have obliterated you completely. 

the second option of what would have happened would be that once you reached the blast doors the tunnel would have been collapsed and most of Lynx's command squad would be dead along with all of Fergus's men, Fergus himself badly wounded. he would tell you that Lynx had turned and allowed the tunnel to be bombed to keep the Apostle from getting to the cube. That is when the grey knights would have teleported in and the same thing would have happened with you dying. 

Eisen: You would have continued to try and fight, flying over the battlefield and slaughtering alongside your captain. eventually though you would collapse from blood loss and be awoken to find the planet take, shamesu reborn in a new body and the cube either in the Apostle's possession or not. Your efforts in the siege would have seriously caught Aresk's eye and he would have taken you under his wing and taught you everything he knew, making you the leader of an elite squad of his. 

Lynx: as you fight through the tunnels and kill more and more fists it becomes apparent that you are moving downward and towards something extremely important. you would eventually come out to a set of huge blast doors and see a group of five fist veterans and a captain setting up explosives, this is where your choice comes in. naturally you would attack, your men and his men fighting each other to the death, and you and him going toe to toe. 

the two of you would match blow for blow, strike for strike, until somehow both of you would loose your helmets. As the two of you locked blades your faces would be inches from each other and you would be horrified to see what you saw, his face was your face exactly, bar the slightly tanned skin and brown hair, he was you. how you took this would have been up to you but as your men fought he would have told you about the cube, what it was capable of and what your apostle was actually planning on doing with it. 

he would ask for you to let him go so that he may demolish this tunnel and give imperial reinforcements enough time to get here to fight the Eighth. you could choose to kill him outright and his men and open the way to the cube for the Apostle, this way would have gained you much favor in the Apostle's eyes and would have cemented you as a true Iron Warrior and Son of Olympia, erasing any doubts from the men save Severus.

However if you had chosen to aid the Fist, you would have had to turn on many of your command squad and fergus and his men and kill them. how you got off the planet was entirely up to you but you would have effectively kept the Apostle and the Eighth stuck on that planet in their attempt to gain the cube long enough for a large imperial force to get there and seek retribution. do not doubt that you would have been hunted to the ends of the galaxy if you had chosen this route.

Severus: yours is a story of finally getting what was due to you. after killing the grey knight Corius's quick thinking would have allowed you and the second to breach the keep first and also allow you to kill the Imperial Commander that was in charge of the defense, earning you a great honor. after the battle you would have heard of Shamesu's veritable rise from the dead and actually gotten to see him in full battle plate after the siege, you also would have heard of Lynx's exploits and what choice he had made. 

vindication if he had chosen to aide the fists and disgust if he had chosen not to. either way you would not have been happy with just the honor that you had won after the battle, yet the apostle would approach you later as the men were readying to get back on the ships and get the hell outta dodge. a speech would have been involved but essentially he would have gifted you with the second and fourth companies and a group of Thel's titans, along with the necessary ships to move such a force. He would have bestowed upon you the title of warsmith, but you would not be the warsmith of the Eighth for he still was and would be, you now had your own grand company to command and it was up to you to name it and lead it how you wanted. 

EVERYONE: ok so here is chain of events; after battle either the cube would be gained or it would be made harder to get, either way whoever was in the First and Third companies would stay with the Apostle as he consolidated his position for a small while. Shamesu would be reborn in a new body, no longer a dreadnought, but back to being flesh and blood yet none would know exactly how much of his chaotic powers he still had or if he had even more. 

Should Lynx have chosen to aid the fists than Fergus would have become captain of the Third and the Apostle and what was left of the Eighth would have to buckle down and ready themselves for the coming Imperials.

Should he have chosen not to aid them then the cube would have been obtained and the Apostle, Shamesu, the First and Third companies, and Thel and some of his elite veteran titans would leave in thier ships. The Helghans would be controlled by the Apostle through the warp and made to fortify the now small Empire that the Apostle had carved out. Those still with the Apostle would have gone through something strange while in the warp and ended up on a heavily fortified planet along with other Grand Companies, where this planet was was unknown but what you could tell was that it was most certainly in either the Eye or the maelstrom. A new battlefield for the Apostle to test out his new weapon and elite warriors perhaps?

Those with Severus would go and follow him, he would not be allowed within the Empire that had been carved out, or rather he could be there but it was not his, possibly a final taunt from the Apostle. what happened to you guys i do not know but you would most likely go on to carve out your own tiny empire in Severus's bid for daemonhood.

The fate of the THousand Sons would be this; the automatons would each die yet Hathor Maat would flee the planet upon hearing of Shamesu's return and the breaking of the curse they had laid upon the Sarcophogus. his where abouts are currently unknown but it is assumed tha Ahriman knows of Vilhelm's acts and how they no longer have the pawn they thought they would.

[anyways guys i hope you all enjoyed this Rp as much as i did and that the endings dont disappoint!!! i know some have longer ones than others but i had planned on the ending being much larger and more detailed and possibly making another Hammer but we shall see. I would love to see your comments on the above and the possible fates of your characters!!!]


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## Deus Mortis

I'm sad it's over, but imo BAV, one of the top RP's I've been in! Seriously, from start to finish, this thing was epic. I was pleased to be a part of it. If there is another one (And I have time) I will join without a moments hesitation. Seriously brilliant mate! :victory:

As for me and Maximus, I would have won :so_happy: Sorry, my stubborn side would not let me lose, but even if I had, I would have been very comfortable being the leader of the elite guard. But, of course, that wouldn't have happened :laugh: But seriously, regardless of the outcome, we would have made it as good as we could have possibly done!


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## Lord of the Night

Ah I would have died , hahaha no im fine with that. As long as its a violent death and a huge one like that, im fine with it.

If you ever do another Eight Company RP ill join, though ill need a new character since Zamiel has been annihilated :wink:.


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