# From the Warp (Action!)



## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

_Adam ran as fast as his legs could take him, the walls of the corridor seeming to close in upon hims with each footstep. Risking a glance backwards, he saw the wall of darkness at his heels, almost engulfing him.

‘Gyaaaahhh!’ He screamed, absolute terror gripping his heart. The laughter of the shadowy creature echoed louder and louder in his ears, his legs getting weaker by the second. 

Finally, he collapsed, his last moments before he blacked out resounded with a chilling voice.

‘...At last...I have found my vessel...’_--- --- --- 

The meeting chamber of the four powers seemed vastly empty without the gods themselves upon their thrones. Furies had been dispatched to each of the realms to deliver the message, the daemon known as Anon had requested the presence of the four, but never would they deign to enter the presence of such a lowly denizen of the Formless wastes.

Instead, they had each dispatched one of their servants to tend to the matter for them. Amighty Bloodthirster stood in front of the Brass throne of Khorne, a lithe Keeper of Secrets stood before Slaanesh`s cushiony lounge, Nurgle`s vast and rusted dais was tended by a Great Unclean One and a sniggering Lord of Change hovered before the great Pedestal of Tzeentch. 

Each of them was accompanied by a group of daemonic champions, who bickered, conversed and glared at each other across the chamber like children.

The four masters silenced their servants as the last member of the meeting entered the hall. Veiled in a robe of pure darkness that seemed to swirl and flow smoothly as the creature moved.

‘Anon!’ The Bloodthirster, Bonecrusher, bellowed at the newcomer. ‘What nonsense have you that requires the attention of those shuch as us?’ 

‘It is a pleasure to see you as well, Bonecrusher.’ Anon said, lacking any sincerity whatsoever. ‘You are surely aware of the threat posed by the star borne, are you not?’

‘The ones without souls?’ Poxgiver asked. ‘What possible threat can they be to us here?’

‘Though they are somewhat of a hindrance in the mortal realm...’ Bonecrusher growled.

‘Precisely.’ Anon continued. ‘Recently, I have learned of a device that may alleviate our problem. It lies hidden on an imperial world and could end the threat of the star gods forever.’

‘Really?’ Caressela perked up. She had been bored so far but the mention of an imperial world caught her interest. He two present servants, basking in her intoxicating presence, revelled in her excitement. One of them pressed her form to the larger daemon`s leg, being stroked in return as Caressela returned the sensual favour.

‘Bah!’ Wyrdcaller scoffed. ‘Everyone knows that only the eldar`s cursed weapons and the might of our own masters are the only things that can destroy the star gods of the mortal realm. ‘ The four daemonic horrors stood behind him laughed. In their ees, such was common knowledge and Anon was simply making a fool of himself. 

‘Yet, your master remains typically unhelpful...’ Anon muttered softly.

All eyes snapped to focus on Anon as he uttered these words. 

‘You dare mock Tzeentch?!’ Wyrdcaller descended to stand before the shadow, dwarfing the smaller daemon and glaring down menacingly. ‘You cannot possibly comprehend the scope of your words! I should destroy you this instant!’

Everyone waited.

‘But perhaps...’ The Change Lord said. ‘I might forgive you if you tell me your true name.’

‘Ever the schemer?’ Anon said passively. ‘Very well. Come closer.’

Wyrdcaller leaned in close, his arrogance unbound. Anon leaned forward also, and whispered...

‘WHAAAAHHH!!??!’ Wyrdcaller recoiled in horror, clambering desperately to remove himself from Anon`s immediate vicinity. ‘How did you...? How could you possibly know?!’ He screamed.

‘I trust I can count on your support then.’ Anon said. 

Wyrdcaller struggled, as if trying no to speak. ‘...yes.’ He muttered finally.

‘Hmph.’ Bonecrusher grunted. ‘I will go with you, not for your sake, but to drown this world in its own blood!

‘Indeed.’ Poxgiver conceded. ‘The chance to further our Lord`s work canot be passed up.’

‘Ooooh!’ Caressela shivered. ‘This is exciting isn`t it?’ She giggled, squeezing one of her servants tightly in her grip as she spoke. 

‘I am pleased to hear it.’ Anon said. ‘Meet me at the borderlands of the Formless wastes in one revolution of the black sun. I will be waiting.’ 

And with that he turned and left.

--- --- --- 

All: Anon has just left. You can take this opportunity to speak to the other characters if you wish. Like it or not, an alliance has just been forged, and the four Greater Daemons have adjourned to discuss further, leaving the rest of you in the antechamber. You can ask the others what they make of this strange leader, you can taunt your rivals, or you can remain silent.

Afterward, you will leave this place and return to the palace/fortress/garden/labyrinth that you came from, and prepare your forces. You will summon a cohort consisting of between five and ten of your fellows, and when you are ready, your master will lead you to the designated area in the formless wastes.


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## Snowy (Jul 11, 2009)

Yorn growled and walked around the chamber uneasily, he wasn't killing so he wasn't happy. As he walked around he bumped into a Horror, but instead of pulling away, Yorn just kept going and knocked the Horror off its feet.

_Worthless piece of Warp energy.'_
And with that Yorn went for the exit.

Yorn ducked a slow swing from a pathetic Human, he then came up and ripped both of his knives up the humans ribcage, penetrating its heart instantly and destroying all of its major organs.
Yorn was getting bored of this, he had killed three other Humans and they had been no match for him.

Yorn walked off from the blood arena, he was bored of killing such easy targets, he wanted to fight great enemies, like the Loyalist Space Marines. Yes, that would be fun.
Yorn called up five of his most trusted Bloodletters and made sure they were ready for war.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose fumed with anger that this deamon had dared mock his lord, He made a mental note to himself that he would definetly doublecross him when he got the chance. An evil plan began to formulate in his mind, Korthose cackled to himself. Even if the deamon was a blasphemer his words taunted his mind could this puny futile being realy know of something to match the power of the great god tzeentch and how is it that a servant of the lord of change is not the one to find this valuble piece of information? For now i will go along with him........ for now. 


"Vetis, Tor'aknar, Xerphon Asazzod what say you? is this thing worth following?"
The three horrors gave thier replies, "I go now brothers to make ready" and with that Korthose left the building taunting the plaugebearers as he left.

Korthose arrived at his library soon after thanks to the miracles of warp travel, he was greeted by one of his flamers who informed him of the goings on in the library. Being a tzeentch deamon Korthose was desparate to know all and if he didn't know everything that happened at his reside he was as useless as a bloodletter armed with a sponge.
Korthose called 2 of his flamers and 8 of his horrors to the main gate. He informed them of the metting that took place and they swiftly left to meet wrmcaller.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'alt couldn't help but stare at the Daemonette wretches. Fire flared through his eyes and his hand clamped so hard around the hilt of his hellblade that ruby blood was drawn. Had Bonecrusher not ordered them to fall back, he surely would've slayed every-single one of them! No one has ever survived Gon'alt's attacks: He only died three-hundred and forty seven times in his immortal life! Turning away from the hateful female-like daemons, he pounded past his other two brethren. He grunted with contempt at how large he was compared to them.

Gong'alt entered his blood soaked homeworld once more, where his cohort awaited him. Ten Bloodletters of the might God Khorne. They all stood silent before him, large Hellblades clasped in their hands. As brutal as they were, Gong'alt used em mainly as a mobile shield. Staring them down one final time, Gong'alt roared animatedly "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!". The daemons roared back. "now, my brothers, it is time to ravage humanity once again."


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

This was an interesting turn of events, a being of the formless waste asking for help from the all mighty Tzeentch? Such a thing was not unheard of just uncommon. The lowly being of Anon of course would have to be punished for such impudence in the face of Tzeentch then again he supposed that he should have seen it coming from such a misguided and aimless soul that has yet to see the glory of Change. Perhaps the fool could even be manipulated into joining the vast family of Tzeentch? Only time will tell but for now the precession seemed to be coming to a close and Anon was moving to exit the room. 
Korthose, a fellow Horror like himself turned to address him and the others.

_"Vetis, Tor'aknar, Xerphon Asazzod what say you? is this thing worth following?"_

Vetris gave Korthose’s question a brief thought it was obvious; of course they would why let all the other Gods take the glory which belongs to only Tzeentch ?

_“__If such benefits our master Korthose, we shall show these pathetic wastes of warp space what a true servant of Chaos is capable of!”_

Vetris turned from his brethren and panned his head to all the other minions of the various gods. The Bloodthirsters were of no concern they were just brutes whose minds were linear and easily manipulated. Slaanesh had brought its own servants to they were creatures of pleasure and their presence was fine by Vetris as long as they don’t interfere with his masters grand and ever-changing plan. But the Foul, putrid sacks of filth that seemed to infest the warp these days known as Nurgle daemons were also here, Such creatures are not even worthy to serve as Tzeentch’s foot stool. When the opportunity arises then they would have to be dealt with.

Leaping back into the realm of his own mighty Lord, Vetris summoned his numerous minions. They were like children only young spawns they had yet to taste the many years of experience that Vetris had and savoir the sweet taste of killing their first Loyalist marines. They were a vast assortment of differing shapes and personalities and numbered a total of ten.
_“Kin, today our masters have struck an alliance with our more naïve brothers and we go to war”_
Vetris said nothing further and decided to let his little ones anticipation swell for the coming battles, it would give them something to ponder. For now however his other champions would want to speak with him and he set off to see them.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'aktos stood beside his lord bonecrusher, revelling in his promised words of bloodshed and slaughter. It had been too long since he had wrecked havoc on an Imperial World, and he longed for the corpse-god followers skulls.
He glanced around the room, snickering at Anon's unrespectful words of Tzeentch. His eyes set on the spawns of nurgle. Filthy creatures he though, how he longed for this so-called alliance to be over so he may kill them in honour of the all-mighty khorne.
Lastly, his eyes set on the loathsome daemons of slaanesh. He stared in disgust at the touching, and the pleasure emanating from them. He did not take his eyes off them for the rest of the meeting, his hatred burning within in retinas.
His hands rested on his dual hellblades throughout the meeting, ever-ready for a fight. As the meeting ended, he turned to follow gong'alt out of the room. He smiled at Gong'alt, even though taller than he, Tha'aktos was much broader. 
Leaving the room, he saw his small 12-daemon cohort of his most trusted and ruthless servants of khorne.
Tha'aktos said 5 simple words "To battle! For the blood god!"


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## Nightlord92 (Jul 7, 2010)

Tor'aknar glared menacingly at Anon. Who was this pathetic daemon, unfavored by Tzeentch, to coerce Wyrdcaller in such a base and boring way? In the blink of an eye a thousand different schemes of Anon's demise raced through Tor'aknar's mind. The thought of that blashphemer burning in the Master of Fate's fire filled Tor'aknar with such savage joy he couldn't help but cackle maddly. Still, the daemon had learned Wyrdcaller's true name, if Tor'aknar was correct, which he always was, and that showed Anon had information worth getting.

"Vetis, Tor'aknar, Xerphon Asazzod what say you? is this thing worth following?" Korthose gibbered.

Turning to his fellow champions of Tzeentch, Tor'aknar smiled viciously.

"It matters not if Anon is worth following, all that is worth is the leverage he has over Wyrdcaller. Our Master expects results from us and I will deliver, unlike those pustulent children of the Pox God." Tor'aknar multi-layered voice echoed hoaresly. Looking past the servants of Tzeentch, Tor'aknar saw the brutal forms of Khorne's bloodthirsters talking in their gutteral accents and the delicate daemonettes non-chalantly talking to one another. Last, and most certainly least, Tor'aknar saw the disgusting children of decay. That pure warp-spawned daemons of Tzeentch must serve alongside the Lord of Decay's ilk chaffed at Tor'aknar's very being.

Releasing his form back into the beautiful Sea of Souls, Tor'aknar drifted through the currents of the warp towards his Master's library. A swirling mass of warp, ever changeing and never the same thing greeted Tor'aknar as he entered Tzeentch's realm. Immediately, Tor'aknar psychically summoned his minions. In an instant 9 brightly colored floated over to him and morphed into their true forms. Though they were young compared to Tor'aknar, a thousand different strands of Fate were woven and destroyed by them every second. If a mortal could ever understand the mind of a daemon, they might be able to figure Tor'aknar was happy before they went mad.

"My Horrors. My Flamers. We go to do the Weaver of Fate's will!"

Though they said nothing, the 5 horrors and 4 flamers skin glowed brighter, showing their approval and joy. 

Releasing their form, Tor'aknar lead his troupe through the Empryean following a shoal of Screamers


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## Aramius (Oct 14, 2010)

Lumina stared toward the minions of Khorne, her usual seductive smile on her face. _"Oh, how boorish those blood-monkeys are... no time for the *pleasures* in life..."_ she thought, before chuckling as one of them drew its own blood as it glared at them. Eyes flitting to her left, she winked at Lacessera in a lurid, knowing fashion, her smile widening very slightly.

As the daemons started leaving to gather their cohorts, she sauntered around Caressela to Lacessera's side. "This should be enjoyable... those brainless blood-monkeys looked ready to explode just seeing us. Can't wait to see how far I can push them..."

After Lacessera's reply, she sauntered off into the Warp, gliding effortlessly to her 'cohort' of fellow Daemonettes, who just happened to already be gathered, revellling in their own sensuality. She grinned luridy as she watched them for a few moments - she'd taught these young ones well...

"Oh ladies, time to be going..." she called in a sing-song voice, to a chorus of dismayed - and a few unrelated ecstatic - moans. "Now now, you don't have to stop when you join our little gathering..." she said, before floating off to join the gathering of daemons, her cohort of eight Daemonettes close behind.

It would be funny to see the reaction of Khorne's blind followers when an orgy of Daemonettes arrived in mid-revel...


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## hippypancake (Jul 14, 2010)

Krankheit stood next to Pox Giver as he debated with messengers from the other three lesser gods. When the four agreed on a truce though, Kran was disturbed. He didn't want to have to deal with the followers of Tzeentch and all their planning he just wanted to spread more and more of his Grandfathers gifts across the galaxy...however if that means teaming up with other lesser beings he would do it.

He looked over at the Khornate daemons. They weren't as bad as the other two, but nonetheless they were simple-minded and never could think farther than violence. Then there were the Slaaneshi daemons, weird, disturbed, kinky-sex daemons that weren't meant for the battlefield and Krankheit made a promise that he was going to show his opinion of them when he gets the chance. Lastly there was his least favourite group, Tzeentch plotters, daemons that were the pure definition of all talk. He hated that all the Tzeentch daemons would just plan and plot then do nothing. He just realized then a Khornate daemon staring at him, _Oh the thoughts he must be thinking._ Krankheit thought to himself. "Best be watching the birds." Krankheit said in his guttural voice over to the daemon, pointing over to the daemonic schemers. Then he noticed they were looking over at his kind, and he glared over to them before turning to his brothers, Oon'nu and Viralistopheles. With a slight nod of intent to them and a sickly smile he started to depart, as he walked by the Tzeentch daemons he spat a gobbet of blood, pus, mucus, and saliva down on the ground next to them. "Lets see how tough you schemers are in battle." he said before leaving the room completely and heading back to the Garden.

At the Garden, Krankheit walked through the foliage of disease, the sickly sweet aroma of decay rose from the plants around him and he smiled in his moment of happiness surrounded by disease. A small nurgling appeared on a tree next to him, and Krankheit nodded to it. "Go and round up my followers and your brothers." he whispered to the nurgling. "Tell them to collect their favourite and most effective diseases for we soon break through to the real world to spread the gifts of our Grandfather. The nurgling made a happy confirming noise as it slips back through the foliage.

As he walked further down the path he came to his personal spot in the Garden. he looked at all his plants, he smiled to himself, Grandfather would be pleased he had successfully created a few necrosis diseases that he had been dying to try on humans after his last few died before he could cure them again. He ate and digested some of the putrid leaves creating new sacs of pus on his body. He looked down and checked that they were in place, and also refueled some of his other sacs of his favourite poisons, and grabbed a few more before attaching the fleshy hoses on his swords to two sacs and heading back to the entrance.

When he got to the entrance his group was already there and prepared for their incursion. Krankheit looked at the four plague bearers. They were slightly smaller and thinner than Krankheit and they only had a few sacs instead of Krankheit whose body was covered with giant sacs. Instead of sacs of already pre-made poisons the plague bearers had flesh pockets on their body where they had stored their own concoctions as well as some of his personal brews. Along with them were dozens of nurglings that ran like a carpet around the plague bearers. Krankheit knew that the nurglings would become useful when it comes to advancing on the enemies, they will do their duty on tying up the enemies, and also if it comes to it...and it always does...they would do their duty as meat shields for the plague bearers to get closer.

"Lets get going." He whispered before he started heading out, his disciples in tow...


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralistopheles stood by Poxgiver, gently caressing him with his tentacles. Always agreeing with poxgiver. Though he did not know why the Tzeentch were allowed to live. He assumed Poxgiver was just being sneaky. 

Viralistopheles just wanted to spread some plague around and agreed to the truce. He headed back to His personal Plauge wastes. A cesspool of waste the size of a lake. There were thousands of Nurglings swiming in his poxes. They swarmed when they saw Viralistopheles coming. Lifting him like a wave to the center of the bog of cesspools. There his minions were waiting for him, six beasts of Nurgle. Viralistopheles is proud of his beasts.

Summoning them up and Heading to meet his master, Viralistopheles takes on last look at his home, not knowing if he will ever return.


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera coiled herself around the leg of Caressela as the strange daemon spoke. Lacessera kept herself occupied with moving her body up and down her mistress's legs with slow, agonising sensuality. At one point, Caressela got so excited that she picked up Lacessera; the touch of the greater Slaaneshi daemon proved intoxicating to Lacessera, and she cried in ecstasy, writhing in her grip. As it tightened, her pleasure only grew higher, until she gave out a soft squeal, at which her mistress released her. Lacessera fell to the floor, and once more intertwined herself with the leg of Caressela.

After the daemons had finished their silly little talk, Lumina appeared at Lacessera's side. Lacessera greeted her with an ecstatic kiss, before listening to what she had to say.

"Oh, I agree," giggled Lacessera, "if only those big, hulking blood-monkeys," at the word "monkey" she gave out a small laugh, "were followers of Slaanesh. They'd make such _excellent_ play-mates..." Lacessera entertained herself with the illusion, before snapping back into reality.

Stalking forward, Lacessera threw up her beautiful black hair at the rabble of daemons, before following her sister-daemon into the Warp. Gathering her cohort of daemonettes, Lacessera gave them all a sensual welcome.

"My daughters," she cried, after her revelry had finished. In the Warp, even time itself is distorted; whilst to them their excessive pleasures had seemed like hours, it was merely minutes in mortal time.

"We must gather for war!"

With that, she headed to her mistress.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu listened to the Greater Daemons squabble with a smile on his face and hacked a stringy wad of lung tissue into his hand, which was promptly eaten, never know when the viruses on it could be used later.
He grinned through broken teeth at the various comments of rival Daemons and of his fellows and stepped backwards, through a vile looking rent that had opened up and into a noxious wasteland. The Plague-Bearer chuckled to himself and began walking, in no time he had reached what looked like a misshapen cancerous bulge protruding from the desolate landscape of disease clouds and flies.

The tumor trembled and released a cloud of flies, the insects buzzed around Oon'Nu and entered his body through a wet rent in his side, filling his lower intestines with the buzzing and scurrying of hundreds of tiny disease-bearing flies, they swelled his belly and would provide a pleasantly awful surprise to the one who eviscerated him.
He laughed at the feeling, it tickled and he could barely keep from scratching at them; he was soon provided with a welcome distraction as four of his fellow Plague-Bearers and five Nurglings, which scampered up his gangly frame gleefully, like children they were...

With his forces in check Oon'nu gurgled out a command and stepped back through a rent in reality, knowing where to go and heading there, a moment before he stepped through he took one last look around. He did so love his Wasteland and did not know if he would see it again; he let out a hearty, if sickening, laugh.

Why was he thinking like that? If he 'died' his essence would return and coalesce back here.


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## komanko (May 16, 2010)

Xerphon stood by his mentor, wyrdcaller the lord of change. He scoured his surroundings, the room itself was inhabited by servants of each of the gods. In his side, Wyrdcaller and another three horrors like himself, all servants of Tzeentch the changer of ways. Right in front of them in the other side of the room stood a Bloodthirster which was known by the name bonecrusher, with him stood three daemonic champions of Khorne, three bloodletters, they were not to smart, easily manipulated, their whole life was revolving around killing. After noting the daemons of Khorne, Xerphon looked to his left, Slaaneshians, they were led by a keeper of secrets known as Caressela, they shall be worthy adversaries, although they were always occupied with pleasure they could think, unlike the common Bloodletter. To his right Poxgiver, a lord of decay which served Nurgle obviously, his minions, the plague champions surrounded him, all swarming with every kind of disease imaginable, Xerphon never fully understood the plague gods worshipers. What is there to worship? The only thing that Nurgle wanted was spread death and decay and this does not help anyone. On the other hand Tzeentch the almighty changer, he wanted everyone to evolve, to get better, this Xerphon could understand.

Everyone settled down and Anon, the minor daemon who summoned this meeting spoke, he said much, and nobody was pleased at the end. A rather interesting event was the fact that Wyrdcaller apparently feared Anon, Xerphon guessed that Anon somehow managed to find out Wyrdcaller's name, or something rather unpleasant that he was planning. At any rate once Wyrdcaller submitted all the other demons agreed to help. As he finished speaking Anon told them to meet him in the borderlands of the formless wastes in one revolution of the black sun. For a moment everyone were silent and then Anon walked away. As soon as he exited everyone began to move, some speaking, taunting or just being silent. Xerphon was one of does who stayed silent, he preferred thinking things through and as he had nothing to say he just stayed silent and observed. He ignored any attempt to speak with him and after a minute he just walk away and traveled through the warp back to his labyrinth.

He did not spend to much time in the labyrinth as he was hunting for ancient knowledge most of the time. He made his was to the library, there he stored all his tomes, scrolls, books, etc... Actually they really weren't his, some he "lent" from people the others he stole, the smallest part of the knowledge here he actually did find by himself and this small part was the most valuable. He gathered his horrors, they were more of librarians then warriors. Yet as he stood in front of them he informed them of the alliance which was made. They were eager and ready. So they waited for Wyrdcaller to summon them.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

_Adam watched helplessly as Vivian was claimed by the shadows. He rushed forward, desperate to save her, desperate to make amends. It was his fault. It was all his fault. He couldn`t let her die...

'Don`t be stupid!' She screamed back at him. 'Run! Run you idiot, run!' 

'But I can`t...' Adam stammered. His words died as the sight unfolded before him.

'RUUUUUNNN!' Vivian`s scream echoed endlessly as she died, Adam bearing witness to the horrifying spectacle of her life force wrenched from her flesh, her soul dragged screaming into the darkness while her body was consumed, fading out of existence until there was nothing left but the formless shadow that had slain her.

Finally finding the will to move, Adam fled, out of the room and down the corridor. _

--- --- --- 

Anon stood at the designated location, accompanied by three furies. The winged daemons had served him for a time now, enough to have developed some semblance of loyalty, but he did not doubt that they would feast on his essence should the oppurtunity arise. 

'They come help us?' One asked, a burly male fury he had named Bragi.

'Yes.' Anon replied. 'They will come.'

As if on cue, the warp rippled and they began to appear, one cohort after another. 

'Excellent.' Anon said to himself. Soon, they were all here. 

'Well?' Bonecrusher demanded. 'Will you keep us waiting? On with it!'

'Hmph.' Anon shrugged. 'Very well.'

Turning his back on the massed daemons in a remarkable display of arrogance, he uttered several incantations and signed several sigils in the air with his hands. The shadowy runes he formed swirled around him as he wove them. 

Finally, taking his sword, he held it aloft. The swirling runes in the air bound themselves to the blade, and with a mighty downward stroke he created a great tear, through which the target world lay...

'Forward.' He commanded. Without even a backward glance, he proceeded. 

One by one, the cohorts followed.

--- --- --- 

All: You will traverse the rift in the order you post in. A first come first served policy here. :biggrin: 

When you emerge, you see a well crafted city before you. They are in the middle of some kind of celebration, a parade for the local militia is in progress celebrating some victory over a previous foe. Must have been quite a narrow victory, as there are less than a hundred soldiers left. Pathetic. 

There is no sign of Anon or his Furies.

Khornate Daemons: Bonecrusher bellows the command to kill. to slay in Khorne`s name and take skulls for the skull throne. He encourages each of you and your minions with strikes from his whip, fuelling your anger. Will you pile into the civilians with savage glee, or leave the unworthy in favour of the battle hardened militia? 

Slaaneshi Daemons: Unlike the Khornates, you yearn to experience every sensation you can. You may join the fight, or you may leave the area and look for someone else to have fun with. Several streets away, a private party was being prepared for the officers of the parade, and many of the local aristocracy are already there. They are as yet unaware of the incursion.

Nurgle Daemons: Unlike the others, you feel no compulsion to differentiate between soldier and civilian, Nurgle`s gifts are for all to share. Naturally, those that resist must unfortunately be put down...

Caressela and Poxgiver have not come through the rift yet.

Tzeentchian Daemons: As soon as you arrive, Wyrdcaller speaks of hidden knowledge buried on this planet. For the time being however, there are souls to be gathered. Roam the streets, slay any mortals who stand in your way. Keep an eye open for any library or museum, such places are havens for knowledge and Lore.

All: The choices you make will affect your rewards and punishments.


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## Snowy (Jul 11, 2009)

Yorn roared with anger and bloodlust as he charged through the rift.
_'Skulls for the skull throne, Blood for the Blood God!'_ Yorn screamed as he charged at the procession. The civillians scattered and ran, fearing for their pitiful lives.

Yorn crushed a human child with a powerful kick as he made his way directly for the Militia.
_'Kill the weak, kill the powerful, kill everything in the name of Khorne and Blood!'_ yelled Yorn, his Bloodletter bodyguard racing after him as he dived head first into the militia.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'aktos followed bonecrusher and Yorn through the rift, his voice vomiting a hail of incomprihensible words, but where no doubt attributed to his patron lord. With fury that could only be seen from one of Khornes champions, he cut his way through the civilians, paying no attention to them, as he charged towards the militia.

He wished to test himself, and he knew these civilians would prove no challenge. Still, he killed as many as he could on his way to the milita. He had counted a total of 28 souls maimed by his dual hellblades.

He finally reached the militia, and now the real battle would begin....


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Unable to contain his patience, Gon'alt charged in after the other two Champions of Khorne, his hand-picked cohort close by. Pausing brielfy, he noticed a familiar face to his right: _Lumina_... They had fought once in the never-ending wars of the Warp... She had defeated him once in battle. Baring his large, pointed teeth, Gong'Alt threw his weight to the side and viciously slammed into her. Smiling widely, having his anger vented, he joined the rest of his bodyguard.

The scene before him was glorious! Helpless civilians ran, cowering before the bloodthirsty daemons of Khorne. Cursing himself for being too slow, he quickly joined in the combat, his hellblade ignited as intense adrenaline shot through his body. Screaming aimlessly, Gong'Alt swung his serrated blade in wide arcs, slicing through half a dozen people with a single strike. His cohort joined in with the cacophony of screams as they, too enterred the fray. The mortals were so concentrated in this one area, that he needn't even move from his spot! His screames then turned to laughter, as he rejoiced in the blood-letting! Never had he spilled so much blood!


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## Nightlord92 (Jul 7, 2010)

Tor'aknar shivered as Anon ripped a tear between the empryean and the flesh-realm. 

"Forward" Anon commanded before disappearing into the portal.

Following Wyrdcaller's trail, Tor'aknar leaped through the portal into the human's realm following deamons of the other gods.

Tor'aknar shivered as he broke through into the materium. Taking in a deep breathe, Tor'aknar savored the feeling of reality screaming against his presence. Sensing him like a beacon, Tor'aknar's minor daemons came screaming out from the portal, squaking and laughing in happiness.

Tor'aknar silenced his minions as he looked up at Wyrdcaller.

"There is knowledge here servants of the Changer of Ways. Tzeentch's plan's may be furthered on this planet." Wyrdcaller mysticaly whispers. Tor'aknar smiled hungrily at the thought of stealing more knowedge for the Great Manipulator.

"We must be patient and subtle though my servants." Wyrdcaller commanded to Tor'aknar's disappointment. "We must play the loyal fighters for now. Go. Rampage among the lesser god's daemons. Slay any of the mortals you wish. However, seek out centers of learning these humans have. Smell out their scent and raid them." Wyrdcaller spoke before taking off to his own agenda.

Tor'aknar needed no further encouragement. Raising his four arms up and pointing into the city. 

"For Tzeentch!" Tor'aknar roared, his mouth stretching farther out than it was meant to. 

Not looking to see if his fellow champions were behind him, Tor'aknar lead his minions past the chaotic tide of humans fleeing and the Bloodletters and Bonecrushers champions butchering them. Standing between a kill and one of the Butcher God's mindless minions was dangerous; Tor'aknar had learned that quick serving Tzeentch. Like a savage pack of daemonic beasts, Tor'aknar and his minions rushed into the city, slaying the fleeing flesh-things indiscriminitely. 

Leaping into the air, Tor'aknar landed on two fleeing humans, his talons on his feet burying themselves into their skulls. "18" Tor'aknar screeched before dashing off.

Vibrant colors raced over his body as he continuously warped his flesh's color. Stretching one of his arms out, Tor'aknar engulfed another weak human in warp-fire. Tor'aknar laughed, a high pitched and evil laugh, at the sight of the human screaming in agony as his flesh melted off him. This was truly liberating! 

Coming to a halt in the middle of the street, Tor'aknar sniffed the air. He could sense the soul-lights of men of knowedge! Guiding his minions, Tor'aknar raced down the street and cut through several alleys before bursting through a gate onto another street. In front of him across the steet stood a librarium, the scent of knowledge wafting up his nose at the closeness of it. He could taste the fear emanating from the scholars and keepers inside. 

Melting the door with warp fire, Tor'aknar laughed as he dashed through the halls of the librarium, ancient texts and documents residing on each bookcase. A flesh-thing in the rich clothing broke from his hiding spot and fleed from the Tzeentchian daemons. Smiling viciously, Tor'aknar jumped on top of a bookcase and leaped in front of the exit the human was about to reach. Stumbling back and falling, the scholar desperately tried to flee before the daemon. Tor'aknar grabbed the scholar by the collar and stretched his mouth out wider than the human's skull. Smiling at the sight of the man cowering and wailing in fear, Tor'aknar brought his razor sharp teeth through the human's neck and devoured his soul.

Instantly Tor'aknar swallowed the human's memories,hopes, dreams,goals, everything. A thousand strands of fate were woven and broken as Tor'aknar devoured the soul-light of this flesh-thing. Tor'aknar laughed viciously, he was truly fulfilling the Great Manipulator's plans! Breatheing heavily, his chest heaving and his flesh changing colors every second, Tor'aknar maddly laughed watching his minions slaughter and devour the flesh-lights of the other mortals. 

Tor'aknar feasted on over 5 more souls before he disappointingly noticed all the flesh-things were dead. From the consumed knowledge of his and his minions kills, Tor'aknar knew every piece of literature within this library: He knew the ruling dynasty of the planet for the past 4,000 years, the visious plague that had engulfed the planet half a millenium ago,the royal families of the planet dating back to the founding days of settlement, every bit of history and knowledge the librarium contained was absorbed into Tor'aknar's consciousness and, through him, Tzeentch's. 

Knowing nothing else of worth was left in the librarium, Tor'aknar performed the only logical thing left to a daemon of Tzeentch. Tor'aknar raised his arms and unleashed warp-fire into the old, dry, dusty books. Quickly catching on, the horrors and flamers unleashed their own warp-fire all over the librarium. Tor'aknar cackled as he calmly walked out of the burning librarium, his daemons in tow. Ancient artefacts of knowledge, preserved for thousands of years and nowhere else availabe, were destroyed in by Tor'aknar in a heartbeat. 

Letting his minions have fun and aimlessly slaughter as many of the weakling humans as they want, Tor'aknar amusingly strolled down the street. Madness and anarchy were spreading and Tor'aknar was thrilled that he was the Changer's tool of change. Engulfing a chain of humans fleeing the carnage, Tor'aknar smiled evily as he heard the hoops and hollars of his fellow champions daemons causing their own mischief in the city. Psychically summoning his minions, Tor'aknar raced off looking for more destruction to cause.


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## hippypancake (Jul 14, 2010)

Krankhein moved slowly through the portal with his cohort behind him. As he bursts through to the realm he smiled at the death around him. Bodies were already strewn across the street, and with a quick glance and a nod, half of the nurglings screeched as they scurried across to the bodies to infect the bodies with Grandfather's gifts. While the lesser daemons were dealing with the already dead, the rest of the nurglings followed the plaguebearers and Krankheit to the living.

While advancing towards combat Krankheit looked at the other plaguebearers, "Find me survivors" he muttered with phlegm flying from his mouth. "Find me more test subjects so I may create more gifts." With that the four plaguebearers diverted away from Krankheit and moved towards a more calm section of the battlefield

After what felt like an eternity he finally hit the line of combat. Right when he hit Krankheit vomitted on the nearest person reducing most of their body mass to a goo like substance, and even as he moved on nurglings ran up and started drinking the goo. Slowly Kran made his way through the battle slicing and infecting any living flesh he could get his hands on. 

When he made it to the other side of combat he looked around. Some of the corpses that the nurglings had infected had stood up and were starting to pool together, the nurglings herding them away from the combat and back to the portal. The plaguebearers had done the same only with still living and unmolested (not a slaaneshi joke xD) humans, Militia, men, women, and children all crying as they were herded to the portal as well. With a look of satisfaction Kran turned and headed back through combat.

When he made it back to the portal the corpses and the humans were all waiting there along with his cohort. Krankheit looked over his shoulder to look at the nurglings that followed him into combat. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven...three of them hadn't emerged yet, so Kran paused slightly to see if they were coming. Another two came out their bodies even more bloated than the others. The last there wasn't any sign of.

_He'll be back at the Garden by the time I get back._ Kran thought to himself. He was a daemon, and these daemons in his cohort were just that his cohort, but he had a slight family sense to them. The nurglings were his children just as he was Grandfather's child, and to lose one of them gave him a slight pang of sadness, but then he brought his mind back to the present.

"Get the zombies to take our prisoners back to my Garden," He whispered. He grabbed one zombie dressed in a tattered and bloody militia outfit, and all his wounds were covered in a pus-like substance the nurglings had with them. "When you get there I want you to find a nurgling by the name Froth he will guide you on where to take them, then you may wander my garden until Grandfather finds you worthy enough to elevate you" Krankheit said, raising his voice to a normal talking level, the other Nurgle daemons that has stayed with him for milennia flinched at the raise knowing him not to be one to raise his voice, but the zombie simply nodded and with that, him and the rest of his kind had herded the prisoners back through the portal to Kran's Garden. He smiled as it happened knowing that when he got back he will be able to create new gifts to spread. _But that is for later_ He thought turning around to look at the combat. "Now we spread the gifts of Grandfather just as he wanted it." Krankheit muttered the Nurgle daemons moving towards combat again...


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

Reality the sensation was liberating, the warp was a fine place but it was always nice to just get away from it for a while, a little change never hurt that much Vetris could never deny. Before him stood the sprawling streets of mankind, humans were packed into every square inch of ground and seemed to be celebrating some sort of army precession. His fellows however had since managed to change that as humans now ran ramped amongst the streets in a desperate attempt to flee the carnage that was being sown by the servants of Khorne and Nurgle. It was pure and utter chaos somehow Zombies had even come into the fray, presumably raised by the foul Nurgle types that they had dragged along with them. 

His servants emerged from the tear in reality that was their gateway to the other side and began to laugh manically at the death set before them. Vetris restrained them from leaping off without him; Tzeentch only known’s what sort of slaughter they could wreck if he let them go off by themselves. Not that such was a bad thing but Tzeentch had other plans and their skills were required elsewhere, beyond the simple task of butchering these humans.

Vetris summoned his minions to fill in behind him and “bid a’du” to his fellow Tzeentchean’s before taking off down the street in search of the power that was knowledge. Every so often he would throw daemonic fire at a human that seemed to be troubling him particularly but proceeded casually through the human city as though nothing was happening at all. He let his smaller ones off their tight leash a little and they took to the battle at hand, keeping pace with him but cutting down any of the humans unfortunate enough or stupid enough to cross their path.

It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a huge building rose from the ground in front of him. It was a giant among men towering far higher than any of the smaller less important buildings around it. Banners of diligence and duty hung from every available space and the Imperial Aquila was raised proudly and boldly above the massive front doors. It was an Administraum information centre only a small one compared to the ones they would have further towards the worlds Imperial palace but it would suffice for the time being. Vetris burst through the doors and gave his small ones full reign over their own actions willing them to burn and maim. Hundreds of administration staff had been packed into the small cubicals from which they worked in. But they were no challenge many broke and ran others stood in sheer terror barely able to believe the Daemonic presence that had invaded their home world. Of course there was resistance of sorts but the poorly guards were of no concern and were cut down without a second thought their bodies completely incinerated by the daemons unholy fire. But what a time to be had! Information was to be found in every corner and every desk; financial reports, suburb layouts, street names many minor things. But some held value and includes reports on the local PDF forces in the city. 

Once the building had been harvested Vetris summoned his minions to him and bowed to the remaining humans in mocking gesture before taking to the battle on the streets.
Anon had been right after all, this was going to fun.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose followed his fellow daemons through the portal. He emerged onto a busy street full of humans to play with. "There is knowledge here servants of the Changer of Ways. Tzeentch's plan's may be furthered on this planet." Wyrdcaller mysticaly whispers. Tor'aknar smiled hungrily at the thought of stealing more knowedge for the Great Manipulator.
We must be patient and subtle though my servants. e must play the loyal fighters for now. Go. Rampage among the lesser god's daemons. Slay any of the mortals you wish. However, seek out centers of learning these humans have. Smell out their scent and raid them." Korthose yelled with glee as he ran down the street setting any foolish enough to get in his way on fire. He grabbed out at a fleeing human gripping him by the neck “p….please d….don’t k….kill m…me” stammered the human. “I might spare your life if you show me something” The human appeared to have gained a bit more courage “Anything to further Tzeentchs plan” Said the human as he took out a necklace bearing the symbol of tzeentch. “So you are not just a human, it’s nice to know that some of you have brains. Come with me I may decide to keep you” Korthose turned to his minions “GO EXPLORE THIS PLACE TAKE IN EVERYTHING IT HAS TO GIVE THEN DESTROY IT” Korthose commanded, he knew he could trust his minions not to fail him and give him every shred of information they found. His minions scrabbled away down different alleyways. Korthose turned around to find a member of the local militia; He walked forward on them with a smile on his face and a fireball in his hand……


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

ooc: If you missed the last update, just include a brief description in this one. 

--- --- --- 

_Adam and Vivian were the only ones left now. Her, the veteran soldier recruited from the Valhallan regiments, and him, the psyker with an aptitude for conducting seances and contacting recently lost spirits.

Adam silently cursed the Inquisitor, his foolish idea to try and turn the warp against itself had cost too many lives, and drawn the attentions of an entity they were not equipped to fight. The two of them had watched in horrified stupor as their chosen vessel had been consumed, the wards had failed and the daemon had escaped. 

Fear had mixed with unbridled anger upon seeing the Inquisitor flee, leaving his underlings to die here..._

--- --- --- 

Anon watched from the top of the spire in the city`s central Administratum building as the daemons ravaged the city below. 

'Notice, how not one of them cares to look for me?' He mused softly. At his side, the second fury giggled softly. 

'They want only kill.' She said. Lahki was a relatively young fury, much like Bragi. The two of them still somewhat resembled the humans that they had once been, before the warp had claimed their spirits.

The third, Nikar, had been a denizen of darkness for far longer, many centuries by Anon`s guess, and all semblance of humanity had long since fled its gargoyle-esque form.

'I guess, I should remind them of my presence...' Anon said. 'Just in case things get out of hand.' 

Standing atop the spire, Anon surveyed the scene once more before leaping from the building top and plummeting towards the swirling melee below. Drawing his sword, he impacted the ground heavily, leaving a warp scorched crater lined with burning body parts. Nearby, Yorn had been in the midst of butchering several of the mortal soldiers when Anon landed.

'Having fun?' Anon asked. 'When you have had your fill, perhaps we could head over to the Governor`s palace... If you`re interested, of course.'

Following Yorn`s reply, Anon turned to face Bonecrusher and Poxgiver, the Great Unclean one having just emerged into the materium. 

'What has you so interested in that mortal wretch?' Bonecrusher growled. 

'Him? Nothing.' Anon replied. 'It`s his daughter I`m after. A bright, loyal spark like hers will draw far more power than his corrupt heart.'

'So, a more worthy sacrifice?' Poxgiver nodded thoughtfully.

'Yes.' Anon said. 'Bonecrusher, I would appreciate it if you and Poxgiver could hold down the fort here with a few of these cohorts.' 

'And you?!' The Bloodthirster demanded.

'I will storm the palace with Carressela and Wyrdcaller.' The Shadow replied.

- - -

_Shortly_

- - -

After the Four Greater Daemons issue their commands, the cohorts had begun to take action. Anon waited impatiently as his attacking force was assembled, two proud looking bloodletter champions pushing their way to the fore. On the approach to the palace, gunfire began to pour in their direction, word of the incursion had reached the planet`s leaders. 

'Faster!' Anon commanded. 'Don`t let them get organised!' 

With a roar, Wyrdcaller took to the skies, drawing their fire. 

'Showoff!' Caressela pouted, before bargiing into the stone wall surrounding the complex. With a shrill cry of delight, relishing the little pinpricks of pain that impacted her form, she led the cohorts through... 

--- --- --- 

Yorn: You are chosen to lead the charge against the Imperial palace. Wyrdcaller will work to distract the fortified manor`s defences, but you may still take a casualty or two. Butcher the palace guards around the palace`s exterior.
Killing Fiercely. No casualties.

Gong`Alt: You stay behind with Bonecrusher and Poxgiver. The militia are more organised now, and have called for reinforcements. Do not let any of them pass. 
Defending. Resentful. Reduced to five.

Tha`aktos: You will fight alongside Yorn in scouring the palace guards. Leaving the outside to Yorn, you begin to slay the soldiers on the ground floor of the palace. You are competing for kills with Caressela...
Slew several dozen soldiers. Storming the staircase.

Viralistopheles: You stayed behind with Poxgiver. Chimera transports have begun to arrive, dispatching elite troops to the fight. They are no match for you however.
Ambushed Soldiers and spread plague. Created several new minions.

Krankheit: Having joined the assault on the palace, you follow the bloodletter`s charge. Inside the palace however, you come across a beautiful garden. Do you continue to search for Anon`s target, or will you further Nurgle`s works and despoil the garden instead? 
Disregarded Anon`s orders. Despoiled the garden.

Oon'nu: You are defending with Poxgiver. Use your plague abilities and infect as many soldirs as you can. Those that flee will take the sickness with them. Fleeing civilians can be applied the same principle...
Infected several civilians and soldiers. Spreading the plague well.

Vetis: You joined the assault on the palace. Unlike the footsloggers, you used your magic and flew to the top floor, crashing through a window. Rather than a shortcut however, you find yourself in a firefight down a long hallway with a group of barricaded humans. You must advance cautiously, lest you lose too many of your number. Wipe them out.
Fighting Stormtroopers. 

Korthose: You stayed behind to defend with Bonecrusher and Poxgiver. Unlike the lsser chaos servants, you can fight fire with fire against these humans. Use your warp magicks to even the odds against the humans heavy guns.

Tor'aknar: Having joined Anon`s assault, you alone notice a pursuing force closing on the group from behind. A squad of veteran guardsmen have somehow broken through. You must eliminate them. 
Successfuly defeated pursuers. Casualties minimal. 

Xerphon Asazzod: Staying behind with the blood daemon and plaguelord, you find the resultant combat boring. You may stick it out, or you may wander off and look for something more exciting, like a church to burn down...
Bored quickly. Left defence to burn Church. 

Lacessera Auress:
If you stayed in the fight before: you will join Anon`s assault, and help the Bloodletters and Caressela kill off the guards.
If you left: Continue to establish a pleasure cult.
Amusing herself quite enjoyably. 

Lumina: As with Lacessera.

--- --- --- 

So many characters... Do not expect individual updates every time... :wacko:

EDIT: The Orange edits are just a quick reference for my benefit.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

revelling in the slaughter of the militia, it almost pained Tha'aktos to be drawn away from the combat. He had claimed many skulls for Khorne already this day, and Anon promised more to be reaped.

He followed Yorn, chanting Khornes name the entire time. As they reached the palace, they met firmer resistance at the palace gates.

"My bloodletters, follow me into the fray!" Tha'aktos howled to his loyal followes, storming immediately through the gap Caressela had broken in the wall before her daemonettes could.

"have fun my minions!" He screamed as he took the heads of 2 loyal soldiers in one deadly swipe of his sword. Their faces were an amazing canvas of despair and horror, which Tha'aktos was only too pleased to paint with their gore.

He had already kill 5 men by the time the the loathsome daemonettes poured through. He spotted one daemonette he recognised to be the one who had broken the wall, Caressela, and he made it his mission to claim more souls than her.

Howling gleefully, he watched as his 12-daemon cohort smashed and cleaved their way through the defences. How could these foolish mortals hope to carry the day? They should all bow before khorne whilst they have the chance! Maybe then their deaths would be quicker...but probably not, Tha'aktos thought with merciless glee.

Wherever Tha'aktos went, his dual hellblades caused havoc. Unlike his fellow daemonettes, he could easily kill 2 soldiers a second, thanks to his additional blade, and thank khorne he did for these brilliant gifts. They had already helped him claim 21 skulls for the skull throne, but he did not have the time to keep track of Caressela's score...


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## komanko (May 16, 2010)

They arrived at the designated location, Anon was already there. One by one each of the factions arrived, they were obviously not happy to see the others. Yet before any conflict could arise Bonecrusher the Bloodthirster spoke, _*"Well? Will you keep us waiting? On with it!"*_. Anon shrugged, he did not like the idea of the Bloodthirster commanding him obviously. Anon turned his back to them, he murmured some enchantments, drew runes in the air and soon he used his sword to cut a tear in the Immeterium, that tear will lead them to the Metterium and to whatever their task is. One by one the daemons followed him as Anon entered the tear, not looking back.

The warp was all around him, consuming, protecting. Xerphon traversed through the warp, following his master and other champions. He finally arrived, he was nearly the last one to arrive but he took his time. He was immortal after all and his only fear was Tzeentch himself. As he emerged from the tear Xerphon scoured his surroundings, there stood a well crafted city, the sounds of joy and happiness could be heard. It was disgusting, so many mortals, so many happy mortals... Xerphon had to terrorize them a bit he could not stand to see them so happy. Looking closer he could see that it was a celebration, a one for the militia of the city. Probably they won some pathetic battle and decided to celebrate it. It was pathetic to watch as only hundreds of soldiers were marching, Xerphon guessed that the rest are wounded or killed. 

Finishing his quick glance of the surroundings he approached Wyrdcaller who briefed them, he said that there is much knowledge and lore on this plant and that its hidden somewhere. As soon as he mentioned knowledge and lore Xerphon's eyes lit with an unnatural flame, he always liked knowledge he was obsessed with it. Yet Wyrdcaller continued saying that they can't look for it yet as there are souls who needs to be gathered. Xerphon sighed, killing mortals was not an enjoyment anymore, but he had to obey. At any rate he decided that he will keep and eye for museums and libraries while hunting humans in the streets, the knowledge after all is far more useful and far more interesting.

Xerphon fought in the streets, he didn't pay in mind to the humans who were fleeing... He left them to the Bloodletters, as for some reason they were never satisfied, they were just mindless brutes. Suddenly a new order came from Wyrdcaller, he was storming the palace of the governor along with Carressela. Bonecrusher and Poxgiver were left with them. Xerphon's task was to protect the rear which he did find rather dull and uninteresting. He decided to ignore his orders, he took his minions and headed to the streets, he ignored any civilians, they had no knowledge and thus were useless. The civilians fled from the streets. Continuing to walk a bit soon Xerphon came across a church of the Imperium. _*"Ah! This will be interesting." *_, he said. He ordered his minions to follow him as he walked into the church looking for any interesting knowledge and dispatching from the humans inside quickly. After he finished looking he gathered his minions outside of the church and with the power of warp flames they burned it down.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt bashed his head agaonst the wall; he didn't want to be here! He wanted to be charhing at the front lines, not sitting here and waiting for them! He hated Anon's orders, but never would he dare to word it. Even _he_ knew that to challenge Anon would be a one way ticket back to the Warp.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before the first of the enemy soldiers appeared within his red-tinted vision. Bellowing his bloodlust, Gong'Alt rose his hellblade in the air as he and his cohort charged. This was stupid. Ruby lasers flurried ghrough the air. His cohort positioned themselves at the front, receiving the deadly projectiles. He realized at this moment that he would've been better off waiting within the fort. Then again, when was the last time that stopped him?

A horrible, loud scream sounded infront of him as the first of his faithful servants succumbed to the mortal's crude weapons. Gong'Alt took the falling corpse and tossed it 
aside. Another of his brothers took his place, and then the next, and then the next. Alas he had reached the enemy's lines, but with only 5 brethren remaining.

Gong'Alt screamed in triumph as he slaughtered his way through the masses of stabbing bayonets and hand-knives. He cared little for his fallen; they'll just meet again soon anyway, right?


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

OOC: Warning, explicit content. User-discretion advised.


Lacessera ran out of the screaming warp-tunnel, and into the world around her. Her daemonettes purred with delight at seeing human mortals once again. Today, they would enjoy themselves.

As the main assault began, Lacessera tasted a whiff of something on the wind. Noble flesh. Noble blood. It was perfect, so, breaking into a graceful run, Lacessera led her followers away from the battle, towards some hive habs. Following her instinct, Lacessera went into an alleyway. Her attendants enjoyed the darkness, and started pulling at Lacessera's legs in an attempt to bring her into an ecstatic revelry. 

"Not yet, sisters," said Lacessera, playfully, before slipping through an carelessly open door. 

Creeping softly up the stairs, Lacessera could hear the voices of men from the next room. Laughter bubbled through, followed by the clinking of glasses. They were celebrating. Lacessera felt her every nerve set ablaze with anticipation, and finally, crept into the room. 

Everyone inside turned around. There were about four army officers, and seven high-ranking aristocrats; along with seven trophy-wives. Lacessera sneaked up to the first aristocrat, and began feeling her her way around his body. Curling her legs around him, she slowly pushed him onto a couch, and, with a few, deft movements with her claws, stripped him bare. One of the mortal women protested slightly, moving forward, only for Lacessera to strip her down as well. Feeling her slick, feline body around them, Lacessera slowly began thrusting herself onto the man, and suddenly all hell broke loose.

Sensual excess became overwhelming. Everywhere, Lacessera's daemonettes filled the room, stripping down the wealthy men and women and performs acts of debauchery. Lacessera thrust faster and faster, her every sense alive with sexual pleasure. The men grunted and groaned, the women cried out and panted; but the daemonettes squealed with delight, taking every single member present to unimaginable heights of pleasure.

Soon, the entire room had devolved into a writhing, pulsating mass of flesh; sensual pleasure vibrated along the entire room, as the laws of physical feeling were salaciously broken. Every mortal felt themselves descending into decadence, the swift decline into immoral ecstasy only pushed further by the Lacessera and her sexual catalysts. The room became maddened, as the mortals realised the extent of their pleasures. They became horrified, but pushed all the harder. Faster and faster and faster....

Suddenly, with an ecstatic shriek, Lacessera impaled the man who had been sodomising her lithe form on her claws. Around the room, the daemonettes did similar; cutting down over half of the humans. All that was left was a crazed, abused woman, still heaving her naked body over the three dead women, one army officer, and one aristocrat; all of whom now received the daemonettes personal attentions.

Lacessera would make these mortals feel the truest heights of pleasure. Then, when so much lust and emotion reaches its zenith, she would kill them, offer their ripe souls to Slaanesh, and create a cult of excess on the planet; if it worked, scenes just like the one happening in the darkened room would be occur all over the planet, as the population is destroyed from the inside, unknowingly selling their souls to Slaanesh.

A much more elegant solution than barbaric fighting.


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## Nightlord92 (Jul 7, 2010)

Tor'aknar screeched at the air, his multi-layered voice sounding like a chorus of the damned. From the back of the assembled assault force, Tor'aknar jealously watched Wyrdcaller take to the skies, soaring over the defenses. Tor'aknar summoned his troupe of daemons and watched as the Blood God's champions crashed into the defender's lines, butchering the humans like cattle. Tor'aknar made to join them before he sensed the gathering of soul-lights coming from behind him. 

Probing the oncoming souls, Tor'aknar was surprised when he realized a group of humans, probably hardened guardsmen, had rallied and were coming to flank the attacking force. "The humans think they can out-wit us and ambush us from behind. Let us show them the price of such hubris." Tor'aknar squawked. The humans were still approaching down the ruined street and after feasting on the knowledge of the librarium Tor'aknar had a detailed layout of the city. Psychically commanding his daemons, Tor'aknar steathily maneouvered his warband into the shady and concealing alleys that would allow him to easily rip these humans apart. 

Waiting in the darkness, Tor'aknar felt the humans approaching close to his trap. He could discern all of them now. He felt their fear and their faltering courage, but he could also taste their stubborn refusal to just die. In the encompasing darkness, Tor'aknar watched as the leader of the squad, a human dressed in the eccentric garb that Tor'aknar knew signified the man as a commisar, blazenly walked down the street trying to inspire his men. 

Tor'aknar waited until half of the squad had gone by them before he sprung his trap. Screeching and ordering the attack, Tor'aknar sprang out of cover along with his Flamers. In the time it would take for a human to blink an eye, Tor'aknar and his Flamers and immolated 6 of the human guardsmen, their pleas and howls of agony mixing with the confusion of the attack. Before any of the foolish humans could even raise their las-guns to fire, the Horrors leaped into the fray. Throwing their own warp-fire, the horrors torched 4 more humans before they crashed among them. Flesh, blood, and bone flew threw the air and painted the street red. Tor'aknar paid the troopers little heed, his aim set on the commissar trying to rally his men. A grizzled human in the garb of a sergeant raised his laspistol at Tor'aknar. He never got the chance to fire. Two of his horrors, sensing the sergeants motives, turned from their kills and pounced on the man from behind. Ripping and tearing his flesh off, the sergeant never got to see the Tzeentch daemon simply walk by his mutilated body, barely even registering his demise.

A trooper whose nerves had failed him turned to flee away from the savage attack fell screaming to the pavement, his legs turned to stumps of charred flesh from his flamers. The remaining 8 guardsmen stood in a fear-maddened mass behind the commissar. Drawing his sword the commissar had registered that Tor'aknar lead these daemons and meant to challange him. Laughing maddly, Tor'aknar simply raised one of his arms and launched a bolt of blue warp fire at the commissar's sword arm. Hissing and sizzling, the commissar's arm burned off, sending the human convulsing to the ground. 

Without thinking, Tor'aknar's daemons waded through the wounded survivors, feasting on their souls. Tor'aknar, however, walked to the barely conscious form of the commissar. This was a pious soul. The most delicious kind of soul. Standing over the human, Tor'aknar grabbed the human by his collar and brought him eye level. Staring into the daemon's black eyes, the commissar watched as his very essence was dragged screaming from his body into the daemon's light sucking eyes. Rendered to a withered husk, Tor'aknar disdainfully dropped the corpse and turned to see his minions toying with the cowardly guardsman who had tried to flee. As much as he enjoyed the spectacle, Tor'aknar knew he should rejoin the assault. Tugging on their consciousness, Tor'aknar commanded his daemons to finish off the human and follow him. Joyfully, the horrors floated above the mewling wretch and as one liquidated him under their fire. 

Trailing behind him, the horrors and flamers hurriedly followed after Tor'aknar towards the battle.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

ooc: Not an update, just Anon`s part of the assault.

--- --- --- 

Anon held back, allowing the bloodletters to push their way to the forefront. With a glance skyward, he noticed Bragi, the fury swooping downward toward his master. Anon walked calmly forward, traversing the ground calmly as the daemon cohorts wreaked carnage all around him. He heard Caressela`s taunts ringing out in the background, mocking the bloodletters efforts as she slew scores of palace guards single handedly. 

Bragi landed lightly and loped to catch up and keep pace with Anon. 

'Is there a problem?' Anon asked, slowing down a little.

'Many lights!' Bragi hissed anxiously. 'Many lights in the warp approach! More humans coming!' 

'They must have managed a distress call...' Anon said. 'Perhaps there was training taking place on the second world after all. My timing was a little off.'

'We in danger?!' Bragi asked.

'No.' Anon shook his head. 'The ritual will be complete soon, and we will have endless reinforcements. These lights will not trouble us, even if they are astartes. Go back to the city, keep me informed of Poxgiver and Bonecrusher`s actions. I don`t want them getting too... ambitious.'

'Yes Master.' Bragi nodded and took off, flying back to where the defence line held the humans at bay.

Suddenly a lasbolt hit Anon in the shoulder. 

Laughing in amusement, Anon raised his completely unharmed limb and annihilated the upstart soldier with a searing wave of black flames. 

There were not many of them left now. Anon broke into a run, following one of the Bloodletter units as they made their way upstairs...


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'aktos was a blur of motion, his dual hellblades, flowing with the power of the warp itself, burned through every molecule they hit. He revelled in their sounds of pain, their pitiful attempts to defend themselves.

One of his cohort had been taken out, but this bothered him none. He would punish the bloodletter later for his failure, but right now he had killing to do.

He was now by the palace stairs, which were surprisingly unguarded. He glanded back towards the fighting, seeing Carasela killing more than her fair share of guards. Tha'aktos needed a challenge, these mortals were too weak for his tastes. With a sudden burst of intelligence unknown to bloodletters, he realised the stronger foes would be closer towards the centre of the palace. 

He then saw Anon engulf an imperial in a sea of black flames. He had never witnessed such power before, and he found hismself strangely jealous that he did not own such killing prowess, but before he could dwell on this any longer, he stormed up the palace stairs, his cohort by his tail...


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralistopheles exercised patients waiting for his prey. Hidden in and amongst the dumpsters and garbage in the near by ally was his Beasts. After Poxgiver gave the word, Viralistopheles made his way to his beasts. There He laid his trap in the alley. When the chimera transports arrived they hear the screams of a abandoned baby coming from the alley. Some poor mother must have left her child here to save it from the daemon onslaught. Little did they know that sound was coming from the bile leaking Innards of Viralistopheles. 

A Elite trooper heard the child, and alerted his Sergeant. The sergeant, not taking any chances led his full squad into the alley. The beasts were on them before they knew what was happening, and Viralistopheles chopped on man in Half with his Pincers, while slashing at another with his plague sword. He managed to restrain two others with his Hooked Tentacles, spewing bile onto them... the change began immediately. The troopers in the back began shooting into the melee, and running for their lives. This drew the attention of the Chimera, which drove to the alley and began firing hails of multilaser volleys into the daemons gorging on the now dead troopers. One beast leapt in front of Viralistopheles, and took a mortal wound, its body now nothing more than a bit of cover for Viralistopheles.

Viralistopheles ordered the other beats to take out the Chimera, and they pounced.... the driver really shouldn't have opened the door to let the fleeing soldiers in. two beasts managed to get into the vehicle, and then the whole vehicle rocked and you could hear horrible screams.

Viralistopheles bounded the two mutating soldiers together and melded them to replace the beast he had lost... the process was ongoing but he needed to press the fight... he left them in the alley to complete their transformation into a beast, and ventured out into the square where their elite soldiers has assumed firing positions. His beasts busted out of the chimera while his others joined them..... They charged across the courtyard and broke the line.... Viralistopheles struggled to keep up with the beasts and waded into the fight. He lost another beast but managed to capture 7 more soldiers alive.... gave four of them his newest four plagues and sent them in different directions... telling them he had spared them... to run for safety. Viralistopheles knew that some of them would make it to their reenforcement points and spread the plagues. 

With the remainder he made another beast.... Then he went to Poxgiver for more orders.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu relished this type of combat, he was defending, good, this supplied opportunities for traps; traps that could increase the number of disease-ridden zombies. Earlier, during the first assault, the Plague-Bearer had delighted in spreading Nurgles Blessings to soldier and civilain alike, turning some to Nurgles worship while others fled, unknowingly spreading rot and decay amongst as the of yet untouched populous.He mumbled the names of plague, rot and disease through his ever-present grin, so many to count...so many.

He chuckled and coughed a gob of phlegm into the screaming face of a mortal, it bubbled and hissed as the disease ridden spit ate its way through the soft tissue of his eyes and into his brain. By Oon'Nus last count his Nurglings had turned a few souls to Nurgle as had his Plague-Bearers, although he had felt a small pang as a Nurgling had perished in horrible _purifying_ flames.

The Plague Daemon lashed out with his dripping sword aiming to wound and maim, to infect and spread disease rather then kill outright; he knew that wounded that were recovered would be taken back to 'safe' areas, but with Oon'Nu's plagues within them, safe areas would become diseased soon enough.


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## hippypancake (Jul 14, 2010)

Kran followed behind the bloodletters letting them take all the incoming damage as his cohort followed behind practically unharmed. As they made it into the palace Krankheit looked around, it was a very large palace and he had to be quick to find Anon's target first. As his cohort moved around the ground level they found little resistance, and instead found mutilated corpses where guards had been only moments before. _Damn bloodletters kill everything too quickly_ Kran thought to himself. 

He was about to head upstairs when he came upon a garden. As he looked in he saw a magnificant abundance of living plants...._corruptible plants_ Kran corrected himself as he looked in longing to corrupt the plants inside. He looked up the stairs to where he could hear screaming of the other, faster cohorts. _By the time I get up there, there will be nothing left to kill or corrupt...but I could stay here and serve Grandfather in the corruption of these plants.._ And with that thought he started moving into the garden. 

"Corrupt everything." he murmured to his nurglings and with a squeal they darted off to the far end of the garden, then Kran turned to his fellow plaguebearers. "Two of you guard the door, the other two come with me and help in the spreading of Grandfather's love..." he whispered. He started off, and the other plaguebearers quickly worked out the orders two of them standing on either side of the door while the other two followed Kran. As he worked his way down a path in the garden he reached over to a large flower easily the size of his head, and spit into his hand, wipping the mucus all over the flower.

Right before his eyes the flower went from a bright red and yellow to a sickly green, with mucus dripping out of it instead of nectar. _Good, Grandfather will be pleased_ He thought merrily as he worked his way down the path corrupting plants, while the plaguebearers behind him collected rotten leaves from the fresh plants. _they will make a perfect ingredient for a new ailment_ Kran thought happily...


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## Snowy (Jul 11, 2009)

_'Kill them all, blood for the blood god!'_ yelled Yorn as he ran at the palace guards, as they raised their lasguns amist appeared around them, obviously the magicians workings.

Yorn kept charging, not caring whether or not the tzneetch daemon helped them.
Yorn and his bodyguard crashed into the Palace guard. Yorn ducked a swing from a sword and then brought one of his knives up in a massive uppercut, slicing the man from stomach to neck, killing him instantly.

Yorn then swung his other knife in an arc that severed the head of another human.
The daemon screamed.
_'Kill them all!'_


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The palace building was something to behold, a huge building that could house a thousand humans. It held countless untold mysteries and had survived for millennia. It was an ancient knowledgeable thing that’s great marble was capable of revealing vast amounts of memorized information, it was true what the humans said the walls do have ears. Or at least to Vetris they did, it was a shame that they would have to destroy such an exquisite piece of artwork but if such was the will of Tzeentch then it shall be done. 

Vetris stood high above the others looking down into the courtyard with an amused smile, the others had decided to take the simple approach and were attacking the enemy head on. What Vetris knew however was that this particular building had roof windows he had studied much of the humans architecture and the building matched the works of an artist named “Harman Vos Heinregal”. The man was long dead but Vetris would suspect that the Imperials would have kept some of his works intact. Turning his attention away from the battle below he decided that now was the time to make hismove; while the foolhardy bloodlthirsters still held the attention of many of the palaces most royal guards.

Approaching the window entrance Vetris rallied his minions back to him and they chattered amongst each other in anticipation of the coming slaughter. The glass windows were no match for the power of the daemons combined warp fire and it shattered easily into the corridor below followed shortly by Vetris and the little ones. 

_“Go my children bring the wrath of almighty Tzeentch down upon the minions of the false Emperor”_

All hell broke loose as his small ones scattered in all directions intent on burning all who was foolish enough to stand in their way. Fire begun to engulf whole rooms and priceless artifacts of the Governing family were smashed into oblivion without a second thought. Vetris himself moved at walking pace throughout the buildings vast expanse of corridors; let the little ones have their fun they would only slow him down in the long run. Besides he was after much bigger game after all this was the esteemed home of the Lord General Governor himself correct? Vetris would very much like to meet the man, that is before he kills him of course. 

But as Vetris rounded the corner he was greeted by a hail of gunfire and bright sparks of pulsing red energy tore into the antique foundations around him. Humans lay scattered amongst the halls numerous halls and hide behind whatever they could find, overturned tables and statues of former leaders all dragged into the hall to be used as a sort of makeshift cover. But by Tzeentch there was a lot of them, Vetris counted mabye twenty of them in this corridor alone; but his minions would be useless they are untrained and practically suicidal fighters. They were however Vetris responsibility to train, calling his minions to him Vetris went to make a push up the giant chasm they called a corridor. Daemonic fire burst forward from his hands and he advanced ever so slowly; roasting alive the men that remained stupid enough to oppose an oncoming daemonic horde. 

Something up ahead caught his eye, a man was flanked to either side by an entire retinue of Imperial storm troopers and was making an attempt to get somewhere in a hurry. Vetris couldn’t tell if it was the Governor himself but wouldn’t it be nice to present the man’s head as an offering to Anon if it was?


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Anon closed in on the palace. The ferocity of the daemonic assault had eliminated most of the guards in short order. 

'Excellent.' Anon called. Stepping inside, he saw Krankheit and his cohort despoiling the inner gardens.

'Why are you wasting time?' Anon hissed at them. 'The longer we take to complete this ritual, the less power we will receive! You damn ignorant fools!' 

Pushing past the pustulent daemons, Anon ascended the staircase behind Tha`Aktos and his fellow bloodletters. He hurried, sword in hand and slightly apprehensive. If the Khornates found the target first, they may lose control and kill her before he could enact his dark ritual.

'Tha`Aktos!' Anon called. 'Keep your minions reined in, I need the Governor and his daughter alive!' 

Looking around at the top of the staircase, Anon tried to discern where he would most likely find his target. He ignored the bloodletters as they went galivanting off to sate their own desires, hoping that the Champion would keep lucid enough to do as he was told...

Weapons fire and daemonic laughter could be heard from the eastern wing. 

Anon broke into a run towards the sound, but stopped when he heard a sound like whirring blades... 

Ornithopters. They had called for an evacuation. Laughing silently to himself, Anon simply looked up. With a thought, he blasted his way to the roof, hiding in an alcove and waiting...

- - - 

_Meanwhile, Outside..._

- - - 

Wyrdcaller watched the approaching ornithopter with a mischevous smile. Summoning a ball of incandescent warpfire, he prepared to blast the aircraft to oblivion...

'No!' A hissing voice stopped him. He turned and saw Nikar hovering several metres behind him. 'Not kill flyer. Master set trap! You leave!' The fury was clearly intimidated by the greater daemon`s presence, but drew courage knowing it acted with Anon`s authority.

'Hmph!' Wyrdcaller grunted. 'Very well. I will inform the minions...' Somewhat reluctantly, he lowered himself to the ground and began to contact the other daemons...

- - - 

_In the city..._

- - - 

Bonecrusher bellowed in frustration. The enemy force had been spent and were now in retreat. It galled him deeply that they carried the diseases of the plague god, for that would inevitably add to Nurgle`s power, usurping kills that were rightfully his.

'I want nothing more than to pursue them!' He roared. 'But that cowardly little shadow would have is defend? Hold ground and be still?! Insulting!'

'It makes little sense.' Poxgiver mused thoughtfully. 'Why would they withdraw when their leader`s life is in peril?'

Moments later, the artillery shells began to drop...


--- --- --- 


Those defending in the city: To stay here is foolish, regardless of Anon`s orders. Poxgiver begins to retreat towards the palace, Bonecrusher charges out in pursuit of the artillery.

Who will you follow?

Those attacking the palace: Having run out of defenders to slay, you have become restless. You may be tempted to leave the palace, where you will again revert to your nature and attack the populace. Or you could be patient and await Anon`s orders, it is up to you.

Vetis: You receive the call from Wyrdcaller, the Governor must live. Disappointing, but you will play your part and hound him to the roof of the palace, where the ornithopters are waiting. 

Tha`Aktos: Storming the upper levels, you come across a young sixteen year old girl and a group of servants being escorted by palace guards. You must hound the girl to the roof of the building, she must reach the ornithopters alive. The others however, are far less important.

Lacessera: You thoroughly enjoyed your pleasure cult. Maybe you should look for another?


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

'Tha`Aktos!' Anon called. 'Keep your minions reined in, I need the Governor and his daughter alive!' 

Tha'Aktos heard Anons words, and his first instinct was to ignore them. Who was this daemon to order a champion of mighty Khorne like this? But strangely enough, Tha'Aktos had found he had grown a sense of respect for him, as much as a daemon could muster, anyway.

"my minions, heel! Do not harm that governer or his spawn. We will have much more fun with them alive anyway..." his minions first growled in disaproval, but then howled with glee at the promise of the fun to be had.

Storming through the palace, they slayed left and right in search for the targets. No-one fell, the majority of the kills now harmless citizens and palace servants.

And it was then, after 10 minutes of searching, slaying, and death, that the daemons fell upon the governers spawn. She appeared pretty for a human, and young...Oh how this sacrifice would be pure, Tha'aktos thought.

With one word, he sent his cohort into battle. "CHARGE!" They squeeled as they charged, lasfire hitting their warped bodies, but this did not stop them none. With furious vigour, the bloodletters dismembered, gutted, and snapped the human guard in two, the daemons fury unbound. The fight was a quick one, and after 4 seconds, the fight was over.

One bloodletter, however, had lost the little control that a khorne daemon possessed. Turning on the spot, it laid its eyes on the governers daughter. A slow smile creaped across its face as it headed towards the cowering girl, who had crawled into a corner in a ball. 

Tears streamed down her face, death now would have been the best thing for her. The bloodletter raised his hellblade, beginning to throw his sword towards the girl.

It was then the daemon was stopped in his tracks. With a pain this bloodletter had not felt in a long while, he was raised of his feet by the power of two hellblades pierced through his thorax. 

"I said, heel, weakling." Tha'Aktos whispered into the daemons ear. With a scream, the bloodletters entity faded back into the warp. 

"no-one else disobey me. Your deaths shall be less quick."

He then turned to the daughter, picking her up by the throat. The temptation to slay was strong, but he resisted, just. His flesh burnt her skin, but he did not care. He looked into the girls eyes with sinister menace. "today you serve a greater purpose, little one." And with one punch knocked the girl unconscious.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt gazed upon the many slaughtered corpses around him. He raised his gaze to the air and howled in victory, followed by the howls of his brothers. He was glad to see that not a single one of his cohort fell in the battle, aside from those who were scythed down in the gunfire.

Then, glancing left, he noticed Bonecrusher charging towards the battle, Poxgiver trailing sluggishly behind. Gong'Alt could barely hold in his exitment. He was bloodied from horn to toe, and he wanted _more_! MORE BLOOD! Without even speaking the order, Gon'Alt screamed with exitment and charged down the length of the field, his cohort taking suit and following.

The artillery was his target. He wanted Bonecrusher to notice him. He wants attention, he wants _gifts_...

He cursed the whole way at how slow he was, seeing Bonecrusher slaughter his way through Imperial armor while he was still trudging along! They received no immediate counter attack, due to the much larger threat plaguing the Imperial lines. That gave him the element of surprise. Finally reaching the rear of the Basilisk line, Gong'Alt howled his favorite order; "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" The cohort split up and pursued different targets.

Gong'Alt jumped up onto the rear platform of a Basilisk and cleaved the personnel in two. Glancing for any signs of resistance, he proceeded towards the hatch. His Hellbade burning in white-hot fire, he swung the blade at the hinges, and tore off the piece. Dropping the blade, he leapt inside. Screaming men fumbled in their belts for defensive arms, but Gong'Alt was too quick. He ripped one's head off and gouged another, until finally the last one received a headbutt equivalent to a brick wall.

He grabbed onto the rim of the vehicle and hauled himself out. He grasped the hilt of his Hellblade and gazed across the line of tanks. Some of his Bloodletters were still slashing at the hatch, while other leapt out, holding heads in their hands, and one even managed to launch himself out as the tank exploded into red cauliflower. Gong'Alt grinned. He trained them well.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The raw firepower of some where up to thirty guardsmen was brought to bear and lasfire choked the air as a unit of storm troopers unleashed a horrible volley of shots at full auto. The others were wielding a wide variety of weapons ranging from a simple Laspistol all the way to a heavy stubber. The hail of fire was intense and the sheer volley of shots had even managed to completely destroy the rear wall of the hall reducing it to nothing but broken plaster and rubble. Even now the humans continued to reinforce their position with new arrivals moving in to add their own firepower to the chaos. On the other side Daemons ducked behind whatever cover they could find, revealing themselves for a mere second to throw their foul Daemonic fires back at the guardsmen and engulf men’s bodies in pink and purple flames.

Vetis lay crouched behind an ancient and preserved statue of some nameless old ruler. The amount of resistance that these petty guardsmen had managed to rally was beyond him, which only confirmed his suspicions that the important looking man that was making his way for the roof was in fact the Governor. Wyrdcaller had instructed that he be hounded to the roof for some sort of obscene reason they were going to get him just that one step closer to freedom, then again knowing Wyrdcaller it’s probably a trap.

Either way he had to press on in a few moments the Governor will be out of sight and if he lost him then it would be a one way ticket back to the warp. 

_“Forward little ones; destroy the humans that would deny you would fun!”_

With that Vetis rose from his cover and burst out into the oncoming fire his minions howled with anticipation and excitement before scurrying franticly after him. Rounds began to impact all throughout his body and Vetis made a desperate attempt to shield himself from the oncoming gunfire by summoning Daemonic fire around his own four hands and using it to try and fend off the guardsmen’s onslaught. His minions however were not familiar was such a trick and flew forward as fast as they possibility could making no attempt to safeguard their own life. Vetis saw six of his number falls within moments as their bodies were riddled deep with bullet holes and they screamed as their very life force was dragged back into the dark recesses of the warp. But their sacrifice had not been in vain and had bought enough time for Vetis to slam headlong into the human defenses. 

To their credit the men and women of the palace guard did manage to survive for a substantially longer time then most humans that Vetis had ever encountered, but it made no difference they fell all the same. Vetis butchered them one by one using his many limbs to his advantage; they were still coated in the daemons fire and could severe whole limbs with one stroke. Eventually what was left of his Daemonic force came rushing in to aid him, clawing at the faces of their enemies and shouting praise to Tzeentch all the way through. 

Leaving his minions to finish the job Vetis left to pursue the Governor.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose threw fireballs at the militia, they were more organises now but some of his minions had returned to him, he laughed as his flamers boiled a man into liquid, at the other end of the street he saw poxgiver move of towards the palace, and bonecrusher towards the artillery "FOLLOW THE BLOODTHIRSTER YOU USELESS DOGS" yelled Korthose at his minions, the bloodthirster was destroying the armour like they were flys, Gong alt
was trudging along behind the bloodthirster obviously annoyed that he was not spilling much blood.

Korthose sent his minions to set the artillery on fire, "BURN THE TRACKS MELT THE BARRELS, RIP THE DOORS OF THIER HINGES AND SLAUGHTER THE GAURDSMEN" his minions roared thier approval to the skies and set of to burn the unbelievers. Korthose singled out a squad of 5 gaurdsmen setting up a heavy weapon "INADI, NOLOG GET OVER HERE" Korthose yelled at his flamers who obediently appeared before him, "turn those humans into ash" commanded Korthose. Korthose set of towards a basilisk, he was met by a gaurdsman with a chainsword and las pistol, Korthose felt a shot hit into his chest. He snarled and threw a firebolt at him drawing on the power of the shards making the fireball fly through the gaurdsman and plough through the basilisks door and burn the crew.

Korthose wandered where his pet human had ran of to when he appeared book in hand. "WHAT HAVE YOU GOT FOR ME HUMAN?" asked Korthose, the human gave Korthose the book, it was titled "A history of the planet"
"Go to the palace give it to my master"


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## hippypancake (Jul 14, 2010)

Kran was enjoying himself, over half of the garden was in some state of decay and the entire room smelled putrid. "Why are you wasting time? The longer we take to complete this ritual, the less power we will receive! You damn ignorant fools!" Anon hissed as he entered the garden, and before Krankheit could say anything Anon pushed him out of the way and kept running to the stairs.

Krankheit looked around at his work. _Truly is wonderful_ he thought as his cohort came over to see who and spoken so loudly. Kran turned to look at them and the nurglings clung to the foliage and hung down like sick, green cocoons. "Well...I guess we shouldn't keep him waiting." he whispered quietly to himself, "Onwards my children to the top of the building, we must find our prize to make ourselves stronger." With that he headed to and up the staircase.

When he reached the top of the stairs he realized how correct he was that the bloodletters would leave nothing with blood in it unopened, dead bodies of the palace guard were everywhere with blood pooling around them.

As Krankheit rounded the corner he saw a bloodletter stab another with his two swords, then it picked something up off the ground. "You dense dog, we need everyone we can get," Kran started as he walked towards the bloodletter, raising his swords slightly, "There is no reason to start killing each other now, no matter how blood-deprived you a-" As Kran reached the bloodletter he saw that the object it had picked up was the Governor's daughter, and stopped mid-sentence. "You found her." He whispered in shock, not in the fact that the bloodletter had found her but moreso that it didn't slay her. _Must be the leader_ Kran suddenly realized, he turned and stopped his cohort from doing anything and then turned around again. "Who are you?" he asked the bloodletter in a quiet, yet hard and inquiring voice.


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## komanko (May 16, 2010)

The warp flames danced around the churches burned remains. Only a vague shape of the church's skeleton remained. Xerphon took joy in this act, he was rather annoyed that no useful knowledge could be found and when he was annoyed he tended to burn things especially churches of the Imperium. His minions stood by him as the flames engulfed what remained and turned it to ash and cinders. He grinned knowing that Tzeentch gained more power by this small act. He turned to walk away and his minions followed, walking through the streets. The streets and their surroundings were colored pretty much in only red and black, red for the blood of the mortals and black for the ashes that remained from burned bodies and buildings. 

The first thing to change was the sound, like thunder smashing against the ground, then the dust which rose up from the impact. Only then Xerphon realized that they were under an artillery barrage. "Off we go!", he muttered and teleported away from this location, back to where Poxgiver and Bonecrusher should be. Instead of that he arrived right under another barrage. "Great...", he thought, annoyed by the stupid coincidence. He looked around and saw some of the daemons following Bonecrusher, who seemed to be angry and decided to dash and attack the artillery. On the other hand, maybe the smarter hand, Poxgiver, the minions of the foolish Nurgle decided to retreat, and this for now suited Xerphon's plans better then Bonecrusher bloodthirsty attitude. Pointing the way for his minions, they walked slowly to the palace amazingly not been hit by any artillery strike, "Must be Tzeentch's luck.", he smiled thinking of the chances of not being hit.

Following Poxgiver, he and his minions soon came out from the artilleries range of fire. He looked around to see if there is something interesting to do, and as he saw nothing interesting near the palace he continued. Following the road which led to the palace he could see the battered and rammed corpses of the guards and innocent mortals. "Why kill someone when you can change him into something that suites you?", Xerphon wondered silently. The palace itself looked pretty much similar to the outside. It was in chaos, destroyed and corpses filled it. Death was everywhere and none could escape it icy grip. Deciding that slaughter and mayhem would not benefit him currently he wandered the palace in search of something of interest, maybe a vault or a library, they were always filled with artifacts and knowledge and Xerphon would never say no to any of this options.

P.S + Edit: I know my posts are not really long but it is because I tend to not go into unnecessary fights, which means I have less to describe. (Thats my daemons character after all )


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

ooc: If you missed the last update don`t worry. Post in two parts, before and after this one. 


--- --- --- 

_'What the hell does he think he`s doing?!' Vivian shouted in horror.

'What?' Adam followed her terrified gaze, seeing the dropship flying through the windows of the corridor. 'He`s leaving us?' 

'That motherfucker!' Vivian started running again. 'Come on, there has to be another ship close by somewhere.'

They searched, almost an hour had passe without incident. But the darkness had consumed everyone else..._

--- --- --- 

Lakhi crept softly across the desolate palace floor towards the staircase, careful to keep her distance from the decaying garden in the centre of the entrance chamber.

'Rude...' She muttered. 'Wreck other people stuff.' Her somewhat simplified mind had yet to truly fall to the same depths as the fury Nikar, but for some reason Nikar had been willing to adopt both her and Bragi and treat them as a kind of family... 

No, that word was no longer sufficient. She shook the now strange word from her memory. _Not family._ She told herself. _We are a pack! Hunters!_

A screech of animal fury accompanied this inner epiphany, and she unfurled her wings, seeking flight rather than waste precious time trampling up the stairs. Nervously, she looked with her warp sense into the aether. The many lights were close now, close enough to see. They were definitely psykers, and there were a lot of them. 

'Humans soldier not a psyker...?' She wondered out loud. 'Why these soldiers so bright?'

Flying swiftly, she reached the rooftop ahead of two other daemonic cohorts. The bloodletter carried the female target carelessly, whilst another group pursued the other target. She landed in a run, keeping to the shadows as she emerged into the rooftop. 

An ornithopter extraction vehicle had landed and a small squad of soldiers emerged, taking up defensive positions. Lakhi was suddenly aware of Anon at her side. 

'Stay hidden.' He said. 'I need you to deliver a message to the bloodletter below. Tell them to wait for the governor to reach the roof first, then release the girl. Let her flee to the rooftops, I will handle the rest. Make sure there is no further interference.'

'I do as you say.' SHe nodded, before vanishing back down stairs...

--- --- --- 

Meanwhile, Bonecrusher had reached the tanks. With a roar of unbridled fury he swung his great axe, cleaving the first of the machines in two. Hefting the flaming wreck above his head, he hurled it at the second before leaping into the air and landing on a third, standing resplendant in the flames.

--- --- --- 

Poxgiver had reached the palace. Looking around, the place was deserted but for a few cohorts waiting on the ground and a small cluster of flying machines above. 

'The lights, THE LIGHTS' Bragi screamed from above. 'THEY COME!' 

'What is he babbling about?' Poxgiver demanded. 

'I dunno, big guy.' Caressela replied with a wink. 'Bu- !' She was cut off by a screaming sound. 

'More Imperials!' Poxgiver raised his rust covered blade.

'Oooh, goodie.' Caressela grinned. 


--- --- --- 

Those fighting the artillery: Following Bonecrusher`s devastating charge, Guardsmen have begun to reinforce the tanks. Several plattons worth rush to meet your charge, it will be difficult but they cannot win against you.

Those at the palace: Thunderhawk gunships begin to land, three of them. From each vessel comes several squads of silver armoured astartes warriors equipped with halberds and storm bolters. You`re in for the fight of your life. 
NB: You may kill one or two members of a squad IF you`re lucky, but your priority at this stage is simply to survive. 

Vetis: Once you have hounded the Governor to the rooftop, break off and join the battle on the ground. the astartes are a formiddable foe. Same parameters as above. 

Tha`Aktos: At the second highest level, you find the fury Lakhi. She demands that you leave the child with her. Once you have done this, join the battle on the ground. The astartes must be held back!
Same parameters as above.

Slaaneshi Daemons: As before. But don`t get complacent, there is a strange presence in the warp nearby and it begins to gnaw at your mind.



Yeah. The Grey Knights are upon us...

Tha`Aktos: Objective completed. Fighting Grey Knights. **
Gong`Alt: Fighting Guardsmen. Reduced to two in squad strength. **
Viralistopheles: Fought, wounded by Grey Knight. Hiding... ?! *
Vetis: Objective completed successfuly. Governor has been shepherded.**
Korthose: Succeeded in destroying Guard Platoon with Others` help. Growing suspicious. **
Oon`Nu: In combat. A minor wound, but still fully effective. **


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Aktos stormed towards the roof of the palace. Once resplendant in glorious gold and royal depictions, the daemons had raised this palace in flames and despair. Slaying a few human ordelies cowering in fear, a fury descended towards Tha'Aktos.

Instinctively he raised his hellblades in defiance at the creature, but it was then he say Anon's marks. With a slight grunt, he lowered his blades.
"What do you want, minion?" It was then the fury informed Tha'Aktos of Anon's orders.
"Very well, minion, it shall be done." His distaist at leaving humans alive was plain for all to see. His bloodletter cohort was also pained at this order.

Seeing the descending thunderhawks, he recognised the grey nights. He had once been banished back to the warp by a grey night, and vowed that he would have his vengeance.

Leaving the girl with the fury, he stormed back through the desecrated palace, bursting through the palace ground doors to a flourish of battle. This would prove a challenge, he thought. he craved vengeance. 120 long years had passed since he was slain by a grey night, and today he would have it.

He stormed into the frey, his cohort forming a tight formation around their master. One was killed immediately by a grey night, his screams piercing the ears of every creature. His dual hellblades gave him an advantage over the grey knights, and relatively quickly he wounded one. Not a grave wound, but enough to make him suffer. 

Just as he was turning on the spot to find more victims, he turned to come face to face with an unhelmeted grey knight. But something was different about this one. Blood began to cascade down his face, his eyes turning into a creamy white. Behind him, he saw one of his cohort with its helldblade sank deeply into the marine. He had surely saved Tha'Aktos from banishment once again.

With a snarl, he loped off the marines head, stamping it into oblivion on the ground.
He turned back to the rest of the combat. What he would give to have Bonecrusher's mighty prescence right now...


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt roared thanks to the blood god as Bonecrusher arrived upon leathery wings, brutally wrecking the feeble tanks of the Imperium. He glanced over at Bonecrusher, grasping his Hellblade tightly and displayed the wrecked vehicle below him. Bonecrusher didn't notice him, and if he did, then he didn't care, which angered Gong'Alt significantly. Then, over the thundering cacaphony of exploding tanks, the sound of marching mixed in, as ranks of smaller men filed in in an orderly, organized fashion. The bloodletting was about to begin anew.

Then, fear shot over him like a bullet. His cohort was too far spread. They would be able to shrug off the first few lasers to impact them, but definately wouldn't last long enough on their own. The only solution was to engage the enemy before they were seen, so that all they would have to deal with are stabbing bayonet blades and the occasional laspistol. Gong'Alt shouted loudly to his brethren, "slaughter the pitiful humans, and make use of cover. We shall regroup in the center of the formation for a final push as one. Now move for the blood god!"

The Bloodletters leapt off the wreckage of the Imperial Basilisks and dashed into and out of cover, making use of the hulls and smoke to conceal themselves. Gong'Alt followed suit, launching his back against the hull of his Basilisk, head turned towards the sound of marching. The first human made his appearance. Screaming fiercely, Gong'Alt swung his blade, cleaving the man's head from his body in a single, clean swipe.

He then charged from his cover, yelling with bloodlust as he cleaved his way through dozens of Guardsmen. Their retaliations were pitiful; they struck forward, attempting to penetrate Gong'Alt's armor with broad blades strapped to their gun muzzles, while others fumbled in their belts to retrieve small versions of their larger weapons. These attacks were easily fended off or avoided, and replaced with a swing from his flaming blade.

Then the men broke off, breaking into a run, desperate to escape him. Gong'Alt roared with frustration, but later laughed it off when the first of his arriving cohort leapt into the fray, slaughtering three Guardsmen in a single swipe. Gong'Alt, not being far behind, immediately joined in, and in moments, the battle was over. Corpses lay strewn everywhere, and Gong'Alt roared with pride. He waited. He waited for the rest of his brothers to arrive. They did not come.

He ran. He searched for his brothers, after all, who was going to fight by his side? Then his brother informed him, "it appears the others weren't powerful enough." Gong'Alt stopped in his tracks and looked to the ground. What was this? Was it... sorrow? Gong'Alt never thought it possible to feel such an emotion, yet there it was. They were gone. Back to the Warp, not with him at this planet, at this moment. They had succumbed to the flurries of lasfire, or the barrage of stabbing blades.

Then he heard footsteps and distressed voices, calling upon their vox for backup. Red rage flooded through his body as Gong'Alt gripped his Hellblade more tightly, and the white fire flared up its length. Screaming ferally, he charged, his one remaining brother keeping suit.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Not an Update. Don`t post if you already have. I`m just adding to the story, some tidbits for later...


--- --- --- 

_Meanwhile, orbiting the inner planet of the system, a large cresent shaped spacecraft sat partly in a higher dimension, all but undetectable to the inhabitants below..._

The Necron Commander glared at the planet below through the viewport of the vessel`s command deck. For some time now, he had stood alone, the ship`s few other occupants were seeing to their own whims for now. The Cairn vessel had not yet completed its scan of the world below, and until then the meagre necron forces could not afford to show their rather limited strength. There was a tomb complex hidden on the world below, hidden from its current human inhabitants, but the necrons who dwelt there were not allies of those on the ship...

_Destruction._ A voice came over the nodal link. _Have the scans progressed?_

Lord Destruction turned to see the other necron who had entered the bridge. A thin wiry form stalked forward, moving as though it was on the hunt. 

_You grow impatient, Taint?_ Destruction asked.

Taint simply emitted a shallow metallic grunt. It was not one to speak more than necessary. Momentarily, Destruction found himself curious as to the true nature of this necron. It never spoke of its once life, never spoke of its origins, its position within the old necrontyr society, and would not even divulge how it came into the service of the Forgotten. For a time after their awakening, it had fought alonside the small kill team in search of something, but the quest had met with failure, and with no tomb to resurrect them, those who had been lost were... lost forever. 

_The scan will be completed shortly._ Destruction said. _What troubles me is the warp disturbance on the outer planet of the system. It seems to be growing, but does not yet present a serious threat._

Taint simply stood in silence, a replica of the silent statue Destruction had been before the Flayer`s arrival. Sometimes Destruction wondered if the group should have left Taint to its own devices. But Shadow had insisted that they needed every ally they could find. Only reluctantly had Taint agreed to rejoin them.

It did not completely trust Shadow, and did not have the level of respect for Destruction that it did for the former leader. The true leader of the Forgotten`s servants.


_Lord Misery..._


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralistopheles Stuck close to Poxgiver. When they arrived at the palace he began his work. sifting through the dying and dead for useful flesh. He began working and in the hour's time they had rose 10 plaguebearers and 2 more plague beasts. The screams and smell was appalling but Viralistopheles worked diligently, to impress poxgiver who was doing his own works. 

Then the thunderhawks came. Viralistopheles had heard of them, but thought the stories were exaggerations. The grey knights cut through 5 plaguebeasts and 8 plaguebearers in a matter of moments, They were advancing, Viralistopheles stepped forward and attacked but the Grey knight was viciously fast. It was mere luck that Viralistopheles was able to use his pincer to lop off the leg of the grey knight. once the grey knight was down, Viralistopheles dropped his guard... bad move and he was lanced by a Nemesis Force blade, like a 300lb boil. Viralistopheles quickly fled back to Poxgiver leaking many fluids, and climbed inside the bloated poxgivers fat rolls, and started to try to heal.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The palace was once a thing of beauty, a place where only the most prestige’s of nobles could set foot, were men could gander and gaze upon some of the finest works that the Imperium had to offer. This was gone now; the palace was now a place to forever be associated with bloodshed as hundreds fell in its defense. The once perfect architecture was now crumbling under the weight of battle and its pristine paintwork was now scorched a pitch black. Vetis thought about this even as he veered his way around the numerous corners and corridors, it was such a shame to see this place go it would have made such a good home for the minions of Tzeentch. Putting these thoughts aside Vetis turned his attention to the matter at hand, the Governor was trying to escape and it was his job to see that he got to the roof! Which was incidentally the problem as it was him and only him, his entire team were either dead or preoccupied Vetis would have to go it alone. 

Rounding another corner Vetis became the target of yet another storm trooper who opened up with his Hellgun at full blast. Rounds cackled in the air around him and ducked low to return fire, daemonic fire leap forward from his hands and shot itself across the room to knock the trooper off his feet. The man now had a large gaping hole in his chest and Vetis believed it was safe to assume he would he not going to persist in his attack. The foolish humans were leading Vetis right to the Governor, that was the third guard in the Governors retinue that had either been ordered to or vouched to stay behind to try to slow Vetis down, little did they seem to realize that that were just leaving a trail of crumbs for him to follow. Getting back up again he proceeded in the direction that his attacker had come from.

It wasn’t long before the Governor appeared in view; he was angry and shouting orders at some useless orderlies trying to organize something effective immediately. Vetis hated to intrude when he could be listening in but his orders were clear, before the Governors men had a chance to see him Vetis managed to send multiple shots down the narrow corridor and engulf half a dozen adapts. The reaction was one of muted shock and the Governor turned to face him barking at his men to hold Vetis off for a little longer. With that he left his men to their own fates and took off towards the rooftops, Vetis had made sure that many of the other exits were blocked off by setting fire to most of the rooms. Just to make sure he would have to purse him anyway. As the guards sent Hellgun fire down range Vetis rolled to the side and took cover behind the corner of the corridor. Deciding to take a short cut he used his fire to burst through the rooms opposite the corridor and around the Governors men, it would take them some time to figure out where he went but he would be long gone.

The man was right in front of him, the Governor himself, even as he fled from Vetis he still looked like an imposing figure, the roof was just above and his work would soon be done. Throwing fire towards the Governor Vetis missed intentionally in an attempt to get the man to run a little a faster or at least believe he was still in real danger. Once he had made it to the roof Vetis decided to leave the rest to his fellows and took off to join the battle below.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose opened the basilisks door to see about 60 gaurdsmen run past, he leapt on one giving him the taste of fire. The gaurdsman fell with a scream. Korthose laughed with glee watching his flamers arrive to torch the humans. The giant bloodthirster of khorne smashed his way through the gaurdsmen killing dozens at a time, Korthose continued throwing fireballs at the gaurdsmen. The humans were to confused to fight back, thier puny weapons only hurt when it was massed. A gaurdsman leapt at Korthose with a dagger in hand, it hit him on the right shoulder. Korthose screamed with anger and pain setting his entire body alight with the gaurdsman still hanging on to him.

The battle was soon finished, it was an easy victory although one of Korthose' companions had been killed by a grenade. Korthose could not help but feel a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, he felt that something was wrong, like there were more forces at work than just the daemons and gaurdsmen.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu had retreated into the palace alongside Poxgiver, he had decided that retreating with limbs intact was the most pleasant option; and now the Astartes were attacking, and not just any Astartes, these were Grey Knights, the Plague-Bearer could feel his very essence recoil from their thrice-damned wards, he could not even touch their minds, so heavily shielded by blind faith were they.

He had been banished by Grey Knights previously, though never had he faced this many at one time before; he smiled, so many new people to give the bounty of disease to. Although Space Marines were notoriously resilient.
A gurgling chuckle brought his fellow Plague-Bearers and little Nurglings to him, he tasked the dear little mites with distraction and all round mischief making and the Plague-Bearers with Raising the dead, that was a viable option as there were many human soldiers dead or dying in the streets, they would make excellent distractions and provide Oon'Nu's spore colonies with a warm moist environment to grow.

The Plague-Bearer was not overly joyed to be in the middle of a chaotic melee with Grey Knights but he went to it with a will, where he fought a spore-cloud followed, hampering sight of those not of Daemon-kind; during a swirl of violent activity a nemesis halberd slit open Oon'Nu's belly.
Loops of intestines poured out, writhing with a life of their own as they reached out to ensnare and tangle limbs and weapons, not to mention the sudden burst of dark flies and insects that poured from the Daemons ruptured organs to buzz around, clogging weapon barrels and generally adding to the confusion. Oon'Nu smiled as he resumed combat, his little friends had come to play


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*The Rift is Complete! Gifts of the Gods await!*

Anon smiled inwardly to himself, his otherworldly senses alerting him to all that transpired. The Governor was approaching, and his daughter would soon be in daemonic clutches...

Lahki reached into the girl`s mind and roused her. She disappeared quickly, for the human child was needed alive. For the moment, anyway. Lahki watched from the darkness as the girl looked around briefly, wondering where the brutes that had captured he had gone. Seeking to press her "luck," she pressed on, fleeing for the roof.

Anon stepped from the shadows as the Governor climbed aboard his evac craft.

'You`re too late, daemon!' He jeered. 'You will never have my blood!' 

'That`s fine by me, Governor.' Anon replied calmly. At that moment, the man`s daughter emerged from the doorway alone. She halted arubtly at the sight of the shadow creature, a look of terror etched onto her face. 

Quicker than eyes could follow, Anon had her by the throat, raised aloft with sword poised to strike.

'Shall I have her blood, or will it be yours?' Anon posed the question, tightening his grip to prevent the girl from emitting an annoying scream.

'...No... How can you do this?!' The Governor screamed. He had believed his daughter had already been escorted out, but Tha`Aktos had seen to that earlier. 

'The choice is yours.' Anon repeated. 'Her blood... Or yours? I need your soul, Governor. A light to drain into the darkness, to empower myself and my allies. Great and terrible suffering you will endure, eternal torment beyond the scope of mortal imagination. The shadows will grow strong, and overrun this world, flooding it with everlasting darkness, bathing it in eternal night.'

'NO!' he shouted, stepping back into the orinthopter. Anon smiled again as the man`s greed finally won out. Willingly, he chose to live. Willingly, he gave his daughter. Anon relished the look in the girl`s tear filled eyes as the aircraft flew away. It didn`t matter that the human was escaping. In truth, his fate was already sealed. Just like the punitive Grey Knights below...

- - - 

Bonecrusher looked up, the sky was darkening. He could feel the fear of the few remaining mortals around him, but was slightly jealous that he was not the chief cause of it...

- - - 

Caressela and Poxgiver noted the coming darkness. It made the Grey Knights they were fighting seem so much brighter, so much more... irritating.

'Stupid little worms!' The keeper of secrets cursed, picking up a warrior in two hands and wrenching him apart. Her hands were scorched from where the wards on his flesh had burnt her own. She lowered them, raising her secondary set of arms, one of which bore her long and elegant blade.

- - -

Wyrdcaller watched from his vantage point, hidden from view on a balcony on the eastern wing of the palace. For curiosity`s sake, he waited to see just what Anon`s plan was...

- - - 

Anon raised the girl to the darkening heavens. The clouds of darkness spiralled inwards, blotting out the fading sun.

'Tell me your name?' He asked, his voice almost gentle, but not without a ruthless edge to it.

She stammered, struggling to find the words, wondering if she should even try to reason with this being.

'...Valencia.' She said at last. 'Please, don`t do this to m-'

'Silence.' Anon cut her off sharply, then drew his sword and looked up to the darkened sky.

_Gods of Chaos!'_ He called, his voice resounding across the blasted landscape for all to hear. _'Gods of Darkness! See this soul that I present to you!

'Body, unsullied by a man`s touch!

'Mind, free from the taint of corruption!

'Heart, untouched by greed!

'Soul, purer than the brightest star!' _


Anon released the girl, and she was taken into the air by an unseen force. Held aloft by unseen magicks, Valencia was claimed by darkness in a tortured scream of unbridled agony. In scant seconds, her skin tore from her flesh, her blood drained into the clouds and her bones splintered. As the darkness swelled, feeding on the essence of this purest light, this sacrifice willingly given, the world was changed forever.

Never again would a mere mortal call this planet home...

--- --- --- 

Tha`Aktos: As the darkness descends upon the world, your power swells tremendously. Your sinews bulge with strength, and the Blood God`s own anger fires your passion beyond any you have experienced before. You have received the Rage of Khorne and Unholy Might. Your attacks are stronger and will devastate any armour without trouble. 
Gong`Alt: You notice your sword becoming hotter in your grip. In your other hand materialises a flaming whip, a brass flail, or some other such implement of ranged attack. (you decide) In addition, your legs twist and reshape, allowing you greater movement and agility. You have received Death Strike and Unholy Agility. You have become faster than any other save perhaps the lithe daemons of Slaanesh. Your attacks will be harder to dodge and you will dodge far more easily now as well as having a short ranged weapon.
Viralistopheles: You fled from Combat. Whilst the gods frown upon you, you were able to draw strength from the rift. In addition, you seem to have absorbed a portion of Poxgiver`s essence. You receive the Breath of Chaos Gift, a short range attack that will dissolve your victims in a painful and gory mess.
Vetis: Your task was achieved successfuly and Tzeentch applauds your deception. You momentarily receive visions of Tzeentche`s wisdom, granting you greater Knowledge. You receive the Bolt of Tzeentch, a powerful psychic blast that can destroy armoured vehicles. In addition, you are granted the Soul Devourer ability, allowing you to steal strength from mortal adversaries.
Korthose: Minor battle damage has instigated the first hints of a split into two Horrors of Blue status, but you are able to hold on and resist the damage. You receive the We are Legion ability, giving you a greater perception of your surroundings and allowing you to target multiple enemies. In addition, you receive the Soul Devourer ability, or an equivalent ability, such as a daemonic sword if you wish. 
Oon`Nu: You have spread the plague most effectively, adding many to Father Nurgle`s tally. He grants you a sword, replacing your original that bears thrice the venomous potency of your former weapon. Even the slightest scratch is tantamount to a death sentence. You have the Noxious Touch ability, as well as Unholy Might. You have become a formiddable Close Combatant.

All: Finish your current task. Fight alongside the Greater Daemons wherever you are (Bonecrusher against the guard, Poxgiver and Caressela against the Knights) and move towards the palace to rendesvous. The warp rift has strengthened you all, but that does not mean you can be complacent. 

Wyrdcaller does not participate in the fight.

Roughly Thirty Guardsmen remain, and reinforcement has ceased.

The Grey Knights number about three dozen. There are four justicars present.

When everyone is assembled, the next phase of our invasion can begin. 

--- --- --- 


Anon laughed as the landscape was bathed in eternal darkness. Looking out over the scene of carnage below him, Anon laughed silently again to himslef, reluctantly conceding that perhaps he should render assistance. Running to the edge of the rooftop, he leapt with renewed vigour. The Darkness all around was... empowering. 

Landing amidst the battlescape, Anon drew his gleaming silver blade. A trio of Grey Knights charged, halberds swinging for his torso to cleave him in half. But Anon was faster. He dodged the first two strikes and parried the third, allowing a low evil chuckle to be heard. 

'Now we can have some fun.' 

--- --- ---


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt felt a sudden surge of energy course through him, as the fire on his Hellblade flared higher, and a long, red whip materialized into his left hand. At the whip's end was a brass skull, likened to a snarl, and the whip itself was bulging with red and blue veins, which pumped momentarily. Gon'Alt smiled widely and bellowed his praise to the Blood God.

His brother remained by his side, a look of frustration, jealousy and anger on his face. Gong'Alt could tell that he wanted to be gifted as well, but payed it no mind - he would never dare come after him. Gong'Alt regarded the surroundings, and concluded, "We must flee: There is no doubt that more humans will come", Gong'Alt said very reluctantly. "WHAT!? RUN!?". His brother took off into the smoke of wrecked Basilisks, disapearing from sight. Gong'Alt let him go. He will suffer many punishments in the Warp, when he returned.

Then he heard a scream over the din, "Blood for the Blood god!", followed by flurries of lasers proppelling out of lasguns. Gong'Alt turned tail and ran, manoevering quickly and efficiently between the mazes of wrecked Imperial vehicles. Then he noticed something. He was faster! Adrenaline seemed to double in his veins, coursing through his blood-red body fluently. His legs pounded one after the other, in rapid succession. Approaching a wrecked vehicle, he leapt a great distance, landing upon it in a crouched position.

His whip began to pulse, the veins bulging to an extreme, as though the blood within it had clotted. He approached the edge of the up-turned Basilisk and peered over the edge. An isolated group of Guardsmen stood guard, dead comrades all around them, brutal slash-marks and stabs in their mottled corpses. Gong'Alt smirked. This was clearly the work of Skull Harnesser, a nickname he'd given to one of his brothers for his outstanding ability to slaughter his foes with rapid brutality. Now, with his newly received gift, he shall do the same and avenge him.

One guardsman turned around and spotted him. "Daemon! Daemon! Fire!" His lasgun spattered its weak bolts against Gong'Al's carapaced armor as he leapt down, shouting "Skulls for the skull throne!" His whip instinctively lashed out towards the human, impaling him through the stomach. The man immediately caught fire, screaming and rolling in the muddied ground. The other three panicked and fired, backing away from him. Gong'Alt roared, and struck yet another one with his whip, before withdrawing and laeping after the next. He fell to the ground, a look of genuine terror on his face. Gong'Alt spared no mercy, and stabbed theman through the chest.

The other two backed away, firing blindly. Gong'Alt rushed forward, with supernatural speed, ducking and doging every laser directed at him. He descended upon them, a wide, horizontal arc decapitating both of them at the same moment. He howled once more, in thanks to the Blood god.

Bonecrusher appeared over the horizon and snarled at Gong'Alt. he knew that order well - rendez-vous.


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralistopheles, now renewed from the biled juices of Pox Giver, is vomited forth from poxgiver's distended belly. With renewed vigor Viralistopheles charges the squad of Grey knights. Calling all his Plague beasts to concentrate on the grey knight squad he is closing on, he is able to get the grey knights to take a defensive position, and cluster up.

Then Viralistopheles's Pincer like legs part and are raised up high, allowing for his anus to be exposed, and then gapes and turns itself inside out. That is when he unleashes the breath of Chaos, melting three of the warriors and drenching their allies and sticky contagion. The plague beasts cut in number to 3, push the remaining 4 grey knights back and occupy them enough so Viralistopheles can engage in melee. His tentacles restricting one while his plague sword strikes another. His large pincers manage to cleave the restricted knight in half. 

Viralistopheles rejoices in his success, and looks to Poxgiver for approval... but Poxgiver is moving slowly but surely toward the rendezvous. 

The last two grey knights manage to kill a Plague beast before Viralistopheles can finish them off. Now left with only two Beasts Viralistopheles scrambles to scoop up a few bodies and orders the beasts to bring some with them, and hurries to the rendezvous.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose stood behind the ruined husk of a basilisk, the gaurdsmen had managed to regroup themselves and they could harm the daemons now. He summoned a fireball and hurled it over the corpse of the tank, he heard screams confirming the hit found it's Mark. "NOW" roared Korthose at his daemons, he sprinted from cover to see an organised group of guard waiting for them. He felt three shots thud into his chest, all went black.

Korthose was in his own mind, there were two blue horrors standing at either side of him

"let go Korthose, it is enivitible that you die and let us flourish."

"I am not finished with my life yet, much more information to uncover and backs to stab"

"there is no way you will get out, even if you escape us your body is torn and likely to already be dead."

"we shall see who gains control my lesser brothers, you know I am more powerful."

"but we know everything about you don't we Korthose?"

"yes everything you do we will predict it before the thought even enters your head."

Korthose started laughing manicaly and flailing Around the room. He suddenly conjoured a fireball and threw it at the blue horrors. They causally moved to the side of the shot, of course they know what I will do but this is my environment..... Thought Korthose. The ground shook and churned throwing the blue horrors into a gaping hole. They emerged seconds later trapped in a cage.

"curse you Korthose." muttered one of them to himself,

Korthose lay down in the confines of his mind and slept. When he woke he saw one of his flamers leaning over him. "you were dead my lord" said the flamer, it's voice more like rain going down a gutter than actual speech. "you were shot by a human, three is the chest and one in the head after you went cold, we have lost three horrors."

"Korthose should punish you for failing to protect his master. but Korthose owes you his life my lord." The first sentence was directed at his flamer where the second was said in prayer to tzeentch. "what has happened to you Korthose my lord?"

"Korth.... I was as good as dead, trapped in my own mind, then Korthose sleeeeeeeeeped, oh yes Korthose slipped for a long time and then I wake up here." Korthose held up his arms, "this is new, I feel like I am more powerful somehow, I can sense the tiniest movements, a fly on the other side of this field to a drop of water on the Walls of the palace where his fellow daemons were fighting. Korthose reached out and grabbed his nearest horror, it screamed, collapsed and split in two. Korthose however felt an exhilarating surge, he felt another conscience in his mind, "that really is new, come my horrors our fellow daemons need our assistance." Korthose and his daemons moved off towards the palace.

OOC: the more I kill the more souls are in my possession.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The sounds of battle and the dying screams of men echoed their way up through the palace floors as one by one the men of the palace guard were brought low. Blood was etched on every surface and bodies were littered throughout the hall, it had been a bloodbath that Vetis could not deny he had lost most of his minions and he sensed that at least a few still lived but the heat of the moment had consumed them and now they run rampant through the halls intent on the simple minded butchery that the followers of Khorne were usually know for. Vetis knew that they were merely young things but he would have to punish their ignorance once the battle could conclude, if they’re lucky then maybe the humans will do the honors for him. But Vetis had more pressing matters to deal with it was to his knowledge that something was happening on the rooftops and even now he was throwing himself up the staircase to the room top to investigate.

The sight he was greeted with was nothing that he would have expected. Grey Knights stood before them in armor that radiated danger and intimation. Vetis had encountered them in a before time when their chapter was still young even then they were strong but he had defeated them because they thought themselves invincible. Since then the chapter had erased all pride and left in its place only a burning determination to do one’s duty. But whatever awe that these imposing figured may have possessed was spoiled by the shattered nature of their surroundings. The roof was choked in debris in the sky had turned the colour of taint, a pitch black from the warp. The gods of chaos had reached out and touched this place, which was explanation enough to detail why the Grey Knights had arrived.

Around him Daemons fell and fought the Knights in what appeared to be a winning battle, unfortunately Vetis could spot his own minions among the fight and knew that they would stand no chance the Knights would rob him of his chance to punish them here and now. Only time will tell maybe if his aim was blessed by Tzeentch he might hit one of them in the fighting. Charging from the roof top doorway Vetis leaped into the fray throwing demonic fire left, right and centre. 

One of the Knights assailed him with his halberd and Vetis was lucky enough to jump from its trajectory, his luck was short lived however and the Knight was able to use his superior bulk to knock Vetis aside and send him crashing to the floor. Vetis rolled as the halberd came down for another strike and got to his feet, throwing a hurricane of fire into the Grey Knight. To no avail such was the Knights sheer unrelenting faith that the shots burst short of his silver armor, protected by the wards of psykers long past and strengthened by the power of the Knights belief. More Daemons came at the knights from behind him, they were the foul servants of Nurgle and Vetis watched as they cut down the Knight before him. Reluctantly he joined in their charge and went forth to challenge another. 

Wrong choice, even in the face of death the Grey Knights managed to regroup and consolidate their position enough to hold the Daemons back. Vetis saw Viralistopheles one of Nurgles chosen take the life of one of the Knights and was determined not to give in. But his charge was brought to an abrupt end, the Knights had gathered and Vetis could see what was coming before it happened, their armor begun to glow a bright yellow and the Knights chanted in unison. Suddenly a blast tore open the ground around Vetis and an intense pain overtook his body he knew what they were doing, it was the Holocaust. The explosion send ripples throughout the building before sending Vetis flying backwards and off the roof edge, he didn’t see what happened to the others that had joined the charge with him but nor did he care.

He could feel the emptiness around him, Vetis was laying upon a blanket of air and for a brief moment as he hung suspended in the sky he felt time slow and his senses became one with his mind. A blazing ball of flame still erupted on the part of the roof top where he had been fighting the carriers that were flying the Governor away were now just a distant spec in his vision. It was at that moment that something came to him, visions of Tzeentch flickered through his mind and feed him knowledge gave him power. It was also at that moment that gravity took hold and Vetis was send plummeting downwards to the ground but even when he felt the ground approach he knew that he would not die.

Water was sent skyrocketing upwards as a dark figure slammed onto its surface, all around the pool guards and servants gazed in awe at what had just happened. Men and woman gathered around the pool to investigate and something stirred in its seemingly dark depths. A foolish move, without warning everyone surrounding the pool was thrown upwards into the air and a strange pink gas forced its way out through their throats and dived into the waters. Their limp bodies crumbled onto the floor once again and those who were left recoiled in shock many of the remaining guardsmen priming their guns at whatever was about to emerge from that pool. It came; a Daemon from the warp scrambled its way onto the marble tiles of the pools surroundings and raised its head ever so slightly to gaze into all the eyes of its onlookers. 

They were petrified, Vetis could smell their fear it was bottling up inside them and they would not be hard to break. Vetis finally knew what Tzeentch had done for him; he had feasted on the souls of the humans and was ready to serve once more. In his hands materialized bolts of pure energy and he could feel the power that they held.

It was time to really bring the fight to these humans


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

The Plague Bearer that went by the name Oon'Nu felt a surge of great strength in his palsied limbs and he chuckled as they shook, pieces of dead flesh falling loose to become maggots, what an excellent and utterly delightful gift from Grandfather Nurgle
He droned a slow tally of diseases as his sword reformed in his hand, becoming far more rusted and jagged, venom, spore colonies and all kinds of beautiful diseases seeping or growing from rents in the surface of the tainted blade.

A fine gift indeed, he placed the dripping blade against a weeping chest wound, merely to test how virulent the diseases were, as the poisons entered his body he felt his chest tighten and new cancers, tumors and a myriad of other growths either festering inside him or pushing their way to stretch the surface of his skin near to bursting.

An excellent gift, this noxious blade would bring the Blessings of disease and ruin upon those it touched, a smile upon his shriveled lips he pressed the attack, seeing a fellow Plague Bearer return to the Warp was the cause of laughter, mirth welling up inside the Daemon as he brought his blade crashing down upon the unguarded back of a Imperial Guardsman, Oon'Nu had aimed the blade so it would merely cleave through the flak armor and lightly slice the skin and muscle beneath, he was over-joyed to see the Guardsman twist in pain as the blade let its deadly toxins into his bloodstream.

Oon'Nu stepped back to watch, he knew that the Astartes had a rather unfair resistence to plague and so had chosen one who didnt, and from the looks of it the virulent diseases were steadily overcoming even the humans immune defenses, the clothing around the gash began to rust and decay slowly; even if the man was helped by his comrades, he would still die painfully, as the venomous secretions from Oon'Nu's sword wracked his body. 

The Plague Daemon left the Guardsman to rot, already seeking another to gift with disease, such a pity they were all such bad sports about it, seemed no-one would accept Nurgle's Bounty with good grace.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Aktos felt the presence of his mighty lord Khorne surge throughout his warpspawned body. He felt Khorne's rage pulse through his muscles, his unholdy might furthering him to even greater heights of worship to the blood god!

He screamed his thanks to his patron lord, which was followed by the bellows of his entire cohort. The Grey Knights were beginning to lose this battle; Tha'Aktos swore he would kill them al before Gong'alt could get involved, the glory for Khorne would be his to ripe! Almost nothing was better than a skull of a Grey Knight!

He leapt at the nearest Grey Knight, who did not see him coming. Tha'Aktos crashed into him, sending him flying. With his newly-gifted strength, he grabbed on to the marines arm, wrenching it off completly. Tha'Aktos could see the pain in the mans unhelmeted head, it was a look Tha'aktos revelled in.

A controlled swing from his Halberd almost took him by surprise, but he managed to duck just in time, swinging his dual hellblades up simultaneously to decapitate the marine. 

2 Justicars charged the corhort. 2 of Tha'Aktos' cohort was slain, but this did not bother him. They were immortal, forever to slay in the name of Khorne! Tha'Aktos leapt at the Justicars with a fury Khorne himself would be proud of. His two hellblades made excellent tools to parry both of the Grey Knights Nemesis weapons. 

This was the ultimate battle for light vs dark, a mighty, pure hero of the Imperium fighting the warp-filth of the immaterium. Each blow shook the ground beneath their feet, and even Tha'Aktos' cohort was cautious about entering this particular fight.

Tha'Aktos was knocked back, dropping one of his Hellblades in the process. Now all his might was thrown into one blade, one light blade burning with Khorne's hatred. As one of the Grey Knights came for the kill, he parried the sword away, headbutting him as he rose back to his feet. He oculd taste the marines blood, it only serving to fuel his blood lust. 

The second Justicar attacked, a flurry of attacks hitting Tha'Aktos, on occassion breaking his defence and cutting him slightly. With a bellow of pure hatred, Tha'Aktos pushed the Justicars blade to the side, driving his blade forward in same motion. The hellblade cloved straight through the Justicars helmet, and protruded out of the other side of his cranium. The Justicars full weight fell on to the blade, a feeling that told Tha'Aktos he was indeed dead.

The second justicar was on his now, his attacks less controlled than his brothers.
"Die, warp scum!" The Grey Knight shouted at him.
These words were music to his ears; to know the mortal human was filled with fury, feeding his patron god, was amazing to behold.

With three quick attacks, Tha'Aktos finished him. First, a low blow to the right thigh, slicing through half of the muscles there. This forced him on to one knee. The second, was a blow straight through his abdomen, driving the Justicar to the floor in pain. The third and final blow took off the Justicars head, which Tha'Aktos quickly attached to his person as a trophy, should Khorne allow it.

He turned on the spot, seeking more worthy foes to slay...


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Next Conquest*

_'We have to run!' Adam shouted, struggling to hold the wards together. They were decaying by the second with the strain of keeping the warp shadow bound; clearly the trio had vastly underestimated the entity`s strength. 

There was nothing left of the intended host...

'My Lord?' Vivian said nervously. Her hands were at the holsters at her hips, a useless gesture but it was unclear whether or not she was even awae of her actions, so fixated was she on the swirling darkness before her.

'Just hold it for a few more seconds, Adam!' Inquisitor Jakob Malik shouted. A s he spoke, he prepared a vial of blessed oil and held an igniter.

'On three.' He nodded. 'One... Two...'

'JUST DO IT!' Adam screamed, sinking to his knees.

'Now!' Malik shouted. 'RUN!' He hurled the vial into the ground at the creature`s base and ignited it. The shadowy creature writhed and screeched as the holy fire burned it, but none of the three stayed to watch. 

In their panic, Adam and Vivian had taken the opposite exit to their master..._


--- --- --- 


Anon parried the sword strike of the last Grey Knight, laughing with a mocking tone the whole time. Spurred on by humiliation, the knight rushed, exposing a weakness so rare in their kind. 

Anon ducked the relatively clumsy swing, bringing his own blade up and severing the astartes` arm at the elbow. Following through immediately, he spun and thrust his blade through the back of the marin`s skull, killing him instantly. 

The battlefield went suddenly quiet. The Grey Knight`s forces were spent for now. The silence was quickly broken by a roar of triumph from Bonecrusher, echoed by several of the lesser Khornate servants. In these moments, Anon took the time to survey what was left. There were significantly fewer warriors than before, but they had all been blessed by the gods. 

_Impressive._ Anon thought to himself. 

'What now, little shadow?' Poxgiver demanded. 'This world is bathed in darkness, no doubt according to your plan. When will we arrive at the true matter?'

'Indeed!' Wyrdcaller crowed, taking to the air and flying over to join the group. 'You spoke of the necron threat, but we have done nothing but slay mortals and give sacrifices to the gods. This could have been achieved without your help!' The Lord of Change spat. 

'Calm yourself, _servant_ of Tzeentch.' Anon replied, emphasising the word and reminding him that he was forced to serve Anon also. 'The objective approaches, but it is too valuable to risk such a direct assault. This world is our staging ground. Now, with _Wyrdcaller`s_ help, I will open the path to the next one.'

Wyrdcaller seethed with fury, but was unable to deny the shadow`s command. Pooling their energies, the pair conjured up a swirling vortex, a rift that would set them upon their next conquest just as they came upon this one. Before anyone could move however, Anon`s trio of furies landed.

'You leave us here?!' Bragi said, concern in his voice. 

'Relax.' Anon replied, in a manner of a parent comforting a child. 'The rest of your kind will begin to manifest soon. Join them in their hunts, the three of you. When not a single living soul remains on this planet, join us on the next one.'

'Yes, Master!' Lakhi said excitedly. Bragi and Nikar both nodded, and followed the eager youn female back into the sky. 


'I will hear the end of your story, shadow.' Wyrdcaller growled. 'And then I will see the end of _you._ Mark my words...' He glared at Anon one more time before entering the portal.

'Hmph.' Bonecrusher grunted. 'You have a good swing on your arm, little one. But you have yet to earn the true favour of the gods.' He nodded a brief acknowledgement to the lesser daemon then followed Wyrdcaller through.

'Ah, don`t mind them.' Poxgiver chuckled, waddling towards the rift. 'Everyone has to start somewhere, and having seen you fight, why you`ll be a Herald of the Gods in no time!' Then he vanished.

Caressela said nothing, simply blowing the shadow a kiss before entering the rift with her daemonettes in tow. It was difficult to tell, but Anon may have shuddered slightly... 

--- --- --- 

ooc: The hack`n`slash is on pause for a moment, here we have a bit of character building before we go berzerk again. :biggrin:

All: This is the first real calm since you`ve arrived. Take a moment to reflect on your achievements and rewards. Do you consider them justified? Do you consider the _others`_ gifts to be justified?
Anon waits just beside the rift. Unlike the rest of you, he received no reward from the gods. Do you look down on him for this? Do you maintain a measure of respect for him being the architect of the invasion? Do you care at all?
Voice your thoughts to Anon if you wish, or simply walk silently into the portal...

ooc: Doesn`t need to be a huge post this time, but remember the four sentence minimum.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Aktos glared at some of the daemons surrounding him. Anon, a mysterious figure whome Tha'Aktos had noticed recieved no blessing from any of the gods. Was he not favoured by them? He had been gifted 2 mighty powers from his patron lord, in Tha'Aktos' mind this made him more worthy of the great powers than Anon!

He also stared at Gong'alt, who had grown to be his rival in this conquest. Why had Khorne blessed such a lesser daemon so? Was it not he who had slain guardsmen as _well_ as the Grey Knights? Was it not he who claimed more than 5 skulls of the Emperors greatest champions for Khorne? Khorne would hardly notice the deaths of 100 guardsmen, but the death of 1 would please him in untold amounts; and he had slain many! Surely he was the graeter of the two daemons; surely Khorne favoured him more?

He would never cease to please his lord. One day he hoped he would be in the same stead as Bonecrusher; gifted beyond his wildest dreams. He knew there was only one way to achieve this however; and if Anon was willing to find him worthy skulls for the taking, who was he to argue?


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt surveyed the room, taking into account every daemon present. His eyes set upon Tha'Aktos. His cohort was still alive and well. Gong'Alt's fingers twitched slightly with jealousy, and he was tempted to charge the red daemon, and kill him right there on the spot, but he calmed himself. _ There will be another time... _he thought.

Then his mind drifted elsewhere, towards the one named Anon. He was a powerful individual, but Gong'Alt had started to believe that if they should fight, Gong'Alt would emerge the victor. For how can he lose if Khorne himself would bestow gifts upon him, a testament to his strength, but not onto that of Anon? Khorne's gifts had served him well, but he was still heavily disatisfied: Gong'Alt wanted a Juggernaut! Always had he dreamed about riding one of the ferocious beasts into battle, screaming war-cries and slashing his flaming Hellbllade through the frail bodies of Daemonettes. Not far behind him was an entire retinue of Bloodcrushers, who would replace his own pitiful cohort.

He gazed upon the portal, knowing that beyond it, yet another battle awaits. He didn't feel as excited as he normally would. Why? Perhaps it was because he would be forced to fight alone, without his cohort. There would be no momentum to his charge. Still, he went in, taking long, quick strides.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

Vetis stared up at the sky above and gazed into its dark depths, an endless expanse of darkness had consumed the once blue and vivid skies. He smiled silently to himself as a wave of pure joy swept over him; he couldn’t help himself it was in his nature after all, to embrace change in all things. Pulling his attention away from the skies above Vetis scanned the courtyard that stood before him. It was evident that the site once known for its peace and tranquility had been turned into a bloodbath and a wave of carnage had engulfed all who called it a safe haven. Bodies of both guard and servant lay were they fell, twisted in gruesome and cruel ways some never before imaginable by their victims. But Vetis must give credit where credit is due and sung to the clouds above of his Lord Tzeentch praising his name with every unholy breath. For he had been bestowed him with mighty gifts far beyond the reach of many of his fellows , the Bolt of Tzeentch and the ability to sap at the souls of the false Emperor’s lackeys. With these in hand Vetis had been able to end the lives of these pitiful guardsmen.

Wading through the wake of his slaughter Vetis was able to meet back up with the others, unfortunately the battle had yet to take the foul servants of Nurgle from their mists and many of their champions still stood strong. Vetis had hoped that the Grey Knights would have gotten at least one of the things, Anon was still standing to; not that it was surprising to Vetis. Yet he was not been given any gifts! The gods still show no favour for the merge lesser daemon? So they should he must do much more then this to earn Vetis’s favour let alone his masters. The others had also earned their own gifts, but none of them were as exotic and powerful as the ones that Vetis had received, only Tzeentch had the true power to bestow anything truly useful.

Whatever Anon has planned next it better be something where Vetis has the opportunity to try out his new talents against a more worthy foe than guardsmen. Or failing that at least gets to cobber his young ones for their incompetence today.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Destruction and Taint had stood in silence for seversl hours as the scans had continued. Occasionally, Destruction would shift his stance in an involuntary reaction, but for the most part, they were still and silent.

Footsteps drew their attention. Heavy metallic steps on the floor approaching the control deck.

_This is unusual._ Taint said via the link. _I believed that there were only three of us aboard this ship?_

_Indeed._ Destruction replied. _And I do not believe that Shadow would produce such heavy footfall._ 

It was rare for any necron to joke, and rightly so, for the attempt at humour was completely lost on Taint. Instead, the flayer simply moved into a combat position just before the doorway. With a silent motion, the doors opened, and both the necrons were taken by surprise.

'Pain?' Taint exclaimed, forced to speak due to the Immortal`s absence from the tomb link. 

'Indeed.' Pain spoke as well. 'You did not truly expect me to fall to human clutches did you?'

'He escaped the human research vessel, and traced his way back to us.' Shadow, the Wraith, added as he emerged into the room behind Pain.

_On another note, the warp anomoly we`ve been monitoring seems to have engulfed the entire second planet. _Shadow said.

_I know._ Destruction said. _What`s more, it seems to have spread to here._

_Then we`re out of time. _Taint said aggessively. _We have to take the chance..._


--- --- --- 


Anon suppressed his irritation at being ignored and looked down upon by the other daemons. He could sense their opinions of him, the looks some of them gave in his and each other`s directions. How typical of their kind, each once convinced of their own superiority. They were almost as bad as humans in that sense.

When the last had walked through the warp rift, he followed. 

Carnage and anarchy were close, they could all sense it immediately. They stood in a desolate piece of land, surrounded by hills and rocky outcrops. Each could sense a mass of mortal souls gathered just over the ridge. 

'They are ready for us!' Wyrdcaller screeched. 'They have amassed an army beyond counting, how can we face that with so few?!'

'Afraid?' Anon asked calmly. 'Do not be. The rift is growing as we speak. We will be reinforced within moments, I assure you.'

Within moments of Anon`s infuriatingly calm reply, the rift behind them seemed to waver and expand. Wyrdcaller`s snide remark was bitten back as the darkness spread, covering the ground beneath their feet and stretching in all directions.

'How is this happening?' Caressela asked. 'You`re not strong enough to do this by yourself! Are you?' 

'You shouldn`t make assumptions.' Anon replied. 'But no, I am not. We owe this to the cult I established here several years ago. Even now, they enact their rituals, they make their sacrifices, all to empower the dark rift that will engulf this world.'

'But why?!' Bonecrusher roared. 

'To awaken the sleepers beneath.' Anon chuckled...


--- --- --- 

All: We are facing the Sistrs of Battle.

Khornate Daemons: With a frustrated roar, Bonecrusher urges you forward. As you rush over the hill, you see the army assembled before you, rushing headlong to meet your charge. At the forefron are the repentia, eager to meet your swords and axes with their own. Fight alongside Bonecrusher, one to either of his flanks, so he can help both of you.

Nurglite Daemons: You advance in the Knornate`s wake, eliminating any who would seek to surround them. As the formations hit one another, you move to the right, engaging a unit of celestians. Poxgiver advances with you, invigorating and giving help as you need it. 

Tzeentchian Daemons: Take the left flank of the formation, where the combat suits your style. Engage units of sisters attempting to fire from the cover of their rhino transports. Wyrdcaller hovers above, raining spells upon those that cause you problems.

All: We are at a huge disadvantage in this scenario. But as your progress begins to slow, the dark rift still expanding in your wake, legions of daemonic furies begin to emerge, giving you the assistance you need. We have a chance to win this battle, though casualties are to be expected.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt paused before the ridge as Bonecursher roared in fury and charged down. Gong'Alt approached the ridge warily, concious of the fact that he was vulnerable without his cohort to act as mobile shields. He paused slightly before the ridge, and listened to the muted booming of Bolters as they hammered against his fellow Daemons. This didn't feel right. He felt hopelessly lost, like there was absolutely no hope of winning. He peeked over and gazed upon dozens of heavily armored humans.

Gong'Alt had faced them before. They will definately be trouble to him - he was never forced to face them alone before. His heart grew heavy, with a sinking motion. This feeling was alien to him. Where was his bloodlust, that he so cherished? No more butterlies or eagerness to get into battle. Just hopelesness...

He glanced left and noticed the Plaguebearers of Nurgle trudge on past him. He had been one of the last to leave. Gong'Alt stepped over the ridge and ran towards the lines of Power Armor, though without the same excitement that he would normally have experienced. He thought this would be a lost battle. There was no way he could win. He rubbed his hand over his black, carapaced armor, and ran it along the large spike on his shoulder, until his finger bled at the point. His armor would be the only thing to protect him from the ensuing battle, and he knew even then that it wouldn't provide much protection.

A pack of Furies, the castaways of Chaos, were ravaging a squad of Sisters, swooping in from different directions, even picking them off the ground. Gong'Alt joined the fight, hacking and slashing with his dully lit Hellblade, bearing only a slight glow. At once, the hardened gaze of a Sister had pierced his eyes. Thoughts flooded his mind. Thoughts of his dead cohort filled his mind, how he was so alone. Then, the visage of Tha'Aktos manifested itself on the power-armored body, a savage snarl directed towards him. Gong'Alt's Hellblade flared white-hot, and he rushed at the woman, holding his Hellblade tight in hands as to draw blood.

The blade swund hard, and cleaved the head straight off, sending it into the body of an attacking Fury. Gong'Alt roared in hateful fury and hammered his blade into the rank of Sisters, cleaving off limbs and heads, parrying attacks with his pulsing whip. A sister charged at Gong'Alt, chainsword held high and roaring. He screamed in hatred and charged forward. However, a Fury of Chaos had also had its predatory eyes set upon the foe and sent out on leathery wings to destroy it. Gong'Alt's whip latched onto the approaching Fury and sent it crashing to the ground aflame. Sword held high, he dodged the calculated blow of the Sister and met her with his own blade. She collapsed to the ground in two pieces, the wounds sealed black by the Warp flames. Corpses of Sister lay strewn about him, brought down by the Furies and his own savage attacks.

Gong'Alt roared in hatred, swinging his sword wildly, but connecting with nothing. His eyes were bursting with veins, and his whip lashed at the ground madly, igniting the grass pathches wherever it touched. The pack of Furies had landed in a circle around him, carefully examining his curious behavior. One of them edged forward carefully, hand outstreched. Gong'Alt's head swerved lightning quick, and the Fury leapt back, cowering and whimpering. With a mighty roar, he charged forward and ensnared it with his whip, tightly binding and burning. The Furies backed up in fear and took flight, screeching aimlessly. Gong'Alt screamed after their fleeting bodies and swung his blade wildly in the air, before smashing it on the ground. Then his Hellblade lost its flame and he collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

He didn't have a cohort, his team was too scattered, and the enemy's numbers were _huge_. He was alone against an endless horde of humans. He felt so weak and... empty. His eyes flooded with water, a feeling that seemed to fit him like a second layer of skin. Wiping away the tears from his eyes, he stood up on wavering legs, and looked at his fellow daemons slash their ways through the Sisters of Battle. His mouth then formed a savage snarl and he charged, shrieking bloodlust, sword held high, whip lashing to his sides. He was going to die, but he wasn't going to do it alone!


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Aktos responded to Bonecruchers howl with a bark of his own, backed up by the cries of his cohort. Following Bonecrusher on his right flank, they charged headling to meet the Sisters of Battle in bloody conflict. The repentia's screamed they challenges and prayers of blind faith at the bloodletters; what hope did such unarmoured humans have against the mighty minions of Khorne?

Tha'Atos knew that the numbers were against him, and he could only hope that reinforcements would soon arrive. Finally their charge met; Tha'Aktos sending 2 of the repentia's flying off theire feet, their intestines trailing behind them. If Khorne hadd granted Tha'Aktos the power to ignore armour, what hope did these humans have?

Another repentia swung her huge eviscerator at Tha'Atkos, but the size of the weapon made her attack clumsy; Tha'Aktos capitalising perfectly on this, swinging his dual hellblades high and low, cleaving her in two.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gong'alt on all fours; was that a _tear_ in his eye? Tha'Aktos barked out a howl of laughter as he killed another repentia; his dual weapons and vastly superior strength more than a match for such a large, clumsy weapon. Gong'alt was crying in the middle of battle; Khorne would surely punish this weakling, and would surely look down on Tha'Aktos as the stronger of the two bloodletters champions, furthering his rewards and status in the eyes of his mighty patron!

A repentia almost took advantage of Tha'Aktos' slightly distracted status, almost cleaving straight through his head. In retaliation, he headbutted the mortal, caving in her skull without any trouble. 

He ducked a wild strike, parrying the follow up attack, striking his remainin gblade straight through her heart. Another 3 sisters attacked; proving a challenge for him. Had he only hah one hellblade he would have surely fell to the amount of massed attacks coming towards him. Parrying and ducking, he waited for his moment to strike. One of his cohort was struck down, the remaining 7 of his cohort fighting all the stronger for it.

One of the sisters went for his thorax, Tha'Aktos blocking only just in time. Another sisters attack sent him falling on to his back, stunned for a slight second. He quickly rolled to the side as a sisters weapon struck were he was laying mere miliseconds ago, burying itself in the hard ground. Before she could withdraw the weapon, Tha'Aktos striked hard and fast, swiping his arm in a downards motion, taking her head from her shoulders. The second sister screamed, lunging at him clumsily. He sidestepped her attack; stabbing both of his blades through her back as she continued forward with her momentum. The third sister, faith still unbound, swung yet again for his head. Tha'Aktos ducked, and the blade cleaved through the head of another of his cohort, reducing their number to 7. 

With a gleeful smile, Tha'Aktos attacked the repentia, forcing her backwards. He was only playing with her however, as with casual grace he cut her legs straight through the knee, her body falling to the floor. Standing over her, he raised his leg, forcefully crashing down on top of her face, crushing her skull utterly.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose emerged from the warp rift to a sight that mildly surprised him, he had heard the humans machines moving before they had moved a centimetre thanks to his "illness" he chuckled to himself the ammout of knowledge he could obtain with this, what had he done to please his lord so much to merit this gift? It was no matter he had it and he would use it.

He hung back while the greater daemons spoke with the lesser anon, he over heard their words even if he didn't want to, wrdcaller announced that he and the tzeentchian daemons would take the left flank, Korthose moved toward the flank, it drew some strange looks from wrdcaller who most likely had no idea how Korthose had heard him.

The humans were predictable in a ranged fight, take out the most dangerous target first, that was wrdcaller, then destroy the less powerful infantry. "we shall see who is more of a threat to you."

Korthose' daemons lighted fireballs as one and sent a barage of fire over the Rhinos, most fell short but some crashed into the tanks and caused alot of noise and fire. "target weak spots if you must destroy the tanks," announced Korthose as if he was bored. His daemons moves in a complex pattern to avoid fire from the sisters, 2 of his daemons perished in a well aimed salvo of fire. "shit they are organised, FREE MOVEMENT BROTHERS, BURN THEIR FLESH TO CINDERS." yelled Korthose, some daemons rushed into the sisters and were cut down like kittens, Korthose sighed and ignited a fireball, as the fire all appeared so did two more pairs of arms each with a fireball nestled in the palms, Korthose laughed he was delighted win his power.

The fireballs arched perfectly, they burst into three sisters who melted and fell. Koehler continued like this and quickly thinned down the entire squad. There were still some to kill however from other squads, Korthose ignited another fireball, he was about to throw it, but he fainted and fell to the ground, the two blue horrors were still in the cage but a pink horror whom Korthose recognised as the one he had accidently killed. The blue horrors sat in the corners and glared at the pink one who was in a deep slumber.

Korthose walked towards the cage, "what have I been gifted with?"

"gifted? More like cursed, you will never be yourself again, when you touch something you steal it's soul and it will be trapped in here. Each will give you some form of benefit, for example you stole his soul." the blue horror pointed at the pink horror, " and you can throw more fireballs than normal. But you will forever hear his voice inside your head, he will leave a print of himself every time you conjure a ball of flame his power will grow and you will lose some of your soul and it will be trapped in here."

"why do you help me?"

"I am you, just in a different form, if you die I die, and I do not wish that to happen. We will govern the cage for you and try to keep the souls dormant, but we are just two."

"thank you," gratitude was not normally an emotion Korthose felt, but when his life was concerned........

Korthose awoke to see the sky and trails of bullets flying across the sky, he got to his feet and conjured a fireball, there was only his hands, he smiled and silently thanked the blue horrors.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

_This is Disgusting_

Before Vetis stood a desolate wasteland, the ground was charred a dark black under his feet and could be seen as far as his eyes could see, the landscape was dotted with dark rocks and ridge formations were the images of their immediate enemy resided; waiting for their attack to come. Gazing upon the mass of mortals that had been gathered to oppose them it became evident that they were severely outnumbered. What was more was that those who they were to be facing were that Sisters of the Ecclesiarchy.But it was to be expected that the humans would pick these ones to combat Anon, Vetis knew them to be the female worshipers of the false emperor and proved to at least try and put up a fight unlike the tiny guardsmen that would sooner save their own skin then die in a good fight. It was nice to have the change, naturally of course. 

To his surprise two of his little ones had survived the last battle and he had seen to it that they were rewarded after he had punished the others. With one of his minions standing either side of him Vetis readied himself for the coming battle and waited on the greater demons to order the charge. He didn’t have to wait long and soon he found himself thrust forward into the lines of the sisters.

The rattle of bolters filled the air and the thumping of auto cannons rang out in the distance, frag grenade’s burst in the air around him and shrapnel rained from the skies. Vetis was moving was his fellow Daemons, the servants of Tzeentch were to place fire onto the Sisters which were attempting to cover their fellows in the front lines with support fire from their Rhino transports. Yet they had not taken kindly to the Daemons approaching and even now Vetis ran half crouched between the rocky formations which were being blown to pieces by the minute by the unrelenting hail of fire from the Transports. As Wyrdcaller rained his unholy fire upon a particularly trouble group of sisters Vetis took the opportunity to leap out from behind his cover and make a dash up the hill to run around the Sisters behind the cover of the rocks.

The firing was close, he could hear them screaming and was able to recognize the Litany of Fury and the Prayer of Deliverance above the din of fire. Even in the heat of battle did they pray to their false Emperor, building his pace into a sprint Vetis ran up a ridge overlooking one of the Sisters Rhino transports and leaped off with all the strength he could muster. His legs flailing wildly in the air he was right above the Rhino, it was time to put his new gifts to good use. A dozen Sisters were below him, clinging to the cover of their pathetic vehicle, with a muffled prayer to Tzeentch Vetis summoned to his hands Tzeentchs Bolt and threw it downwards into the Rhino. The ringing of the Rhino’s heavy bolters ceased abruptly as the whole vehicle was torn asunder like a sharp pin meeting a balloon it burst and the transports exterior was blown outwards taking many of the sisters, that had only moments before been standing next to them, at a fast flying rate straight into the rugged landscape around them, many were crushed in-between the shrapnel of the Rhino and the walls of the rocky outcrop. 

Vetis landed with a rolling motion and got to his feet once more, below him lay one of the unfortunate crew that had manned the former Rhino its face twisted in anger and hate but its feeble body burned alive within its armored shell. 

_Charming_

Brushing himself off, Vetis turned just in time to see a bloodied and battered sister half way through her swing. A once fine looking chainsword now ruptured and scratched from the explosion was gripped firmly in her slender yet powerful arms. Throwing himself down Vetis narrowly avoided decapitation before squirmed backwards in time to get out of harm’s way from the Sisters second swing. Risking a brief glance behind the sister he saw that his little ones had problems of their own and were confronting two of the other surviving sisters, and not with an astounding amount of success. His thoughts were dragged back to the matter at hand as the angry female came at him again. Dodging her uppercut Vetis managed to throw a punch of his own which impacted on the sister’s armor with enough force to down a normal man. But the Sisters of Battle were not normal or in a manner of speaking not like men. Instead Vetis was forced to dive left when the battle Sister thrust the chainsword forward. Turning on his back Vetis watched as the Sister trudged through the dirt to meet him again, but now he had a chance to win this fight and he took it. Summoning fireballs into all four of his hands Vetis projected them at the oncoming female and his shots his home. With a thud the armor clad warrior woman fell face first into a puddle of mud and her movement ceased.

Looking to see that his little ones had handled their own battles Vetis would finally breathe a sigh of relief but it was short-lived.

_One down, a few odd thousands to go_


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Anon advanced in the daemonic spearhead formation`s wake, taking a grim satisfaction at seeing these servants of Humanity laid low. He noted with a trace of amusement that Gong`Alt seemed to be losing some of his enthusiasm. How satisfying it felt, to feel the despair present in even a servant of Khorne. 

It was short lived however, as the fury of the Blood God reaffirmed its hold on the Bloodletter`s psyche in short order. 

'There`s potential in that one...' Anon muttered to himself. 'I wonder if he would fare well against their leader.' 

Anon turned, Bonecrusher was quickly furrowing his way towards a woman who was obviously the Canoness. To her credit, the woman was not fleeing, but advancing. Far from being the fool however, Anon noted with slight trepidation the pair of meltagun armed celestians accompanying their leader. 

'Wyrdcaller!' Anon called. 'The Heavy Weapons! Get rid of them now!' 

The Lord of Change snarled an affirmative response, before relaying the order to his minions. 

Moments later the Plaguebearer Oon`Nu appeared to Anon`s side. 

'This is fun and all, but surely you have a purpose in mind?' He asked.

'They`ll be here, trust me.' Anon said, irritated by the presence of the nurglite daemon so close. 'Now, get back to the battle. Do you wish the furies to take all of your plague victims for themselves?' He turned and hurried forward, leaving the plagubearer to his own devices. 

The furies numbered almost as many as the sisters now, crawling from the lingering darkness and dropping from the darkening sky. Anon drew his sword as a pair of foolhardy warriors somehow broke free of the melee and ran straight for him, bolters blazing. He dodged the rounds easily, advancing to countercharge. His gleaming silver sword met the whirring teeth of the sister superior`s chainsword with a clash of metal and the flash of sparks. 

'Pitiful Mortal.' Anon whispered. 'You cannot begin to understand what fate you have chosen.' 

'Silence, abomination!' She screamed back. 'I will see you vanquished, even at the cost of my own life, for my soul belongs to the Emperor!' 

'Wrong.' Anon laughed, pushing her back. Only now did she realize she was alone, her fellow sister lying headless at the feet of Bragi. 

'It`s about time you showed up.' Anon said. 

'You vile creature!' The surviving sister cried. 'DIE!' 

But before she could move, shadowy clawed hands shot from the ground and grabbed her feet. Taken completely by surprise, she could only stare in horror as the dark form of Lakhi emerged from the sister`s own shadow. 

'What warpspawn is this?!' the sister exclaimed in a horrified stupor. Anon silently laughed, it seemed that the sister believed Lakhi to be a shadow of herself, a false illusion owed to the fury`s still humanish appearance. 

'FEEEEED!' Lakhi screamed, before her jaws opened impossibly wide in a hungering scream. Quicker than the sister could react, Lakhi had the human`s head between her jaws and inhaled sharply, drawing the screaming soul from its husk and absorbing its essence. 

'Had your fill yet?' Anon asked.

'No.' Lakhi said. 'We hunger more!' 

'Move along then.' Anon said. With relish, Lakhi and Bragi rejoined the fight, taking wing and vanishing into the battle. 

--- --- --- 

Tha`Aktos: As you and your cohort advance, a group of furies advances parallel to you. You recognise the fury Nikar, one of Anon`s followers, and a gaze of challenge passes between you. A contest begins, to see who can kill the most humans over the other. I leave it to you whether you win or lose in score, but keep the numbers realistic, about a dozen and a half to each group would be reasonable. 

Gong`Alt: As you hear Bonecrusher`s roar of fury, you see the meltagun wielding humans fire. Though he survives, he has the good sense to take a massive leap backwards before they can fire again. One of the sister`s artillery pieces hits him again, moments before Wyrdcaller destroys it. The meltagunners are closing fast, you must intervene! 

Also, do you feel that Wyrdcaller deliberately waited until Bonecrusher was wounded before he destroyed the tank? Fell free to share a few curses with the Lord of Change, if you have the courage. 

Viralistopheles: Advancing with your cohort, you are growing frustrated with the impudent furies taking souls that are rightfully yours. Anon`s sycophant Bragi is among them. Are you angered enough to slay the furies? Or would you prefer to stay on Anon`s good side. With a glance at Poxgiver nearby, you see he clearly shares your sentiment. He would likely back your decision...

Oon`Nu: (if you can) Anon`s discourteous tone with you earlier was quite insulting to your prowess. The corpses of sisters are strewn everywhere, ripe for infection. Will you continue with Anon`s command and see to eliminating the sisters that yet survive? Or would you rather begin construction of your own little army? 

Vetis: Wyrdcaller relay`s Anon`s orders to target the heavy weapons carriers. But with furies flying everywhere, it may be easier to simply let loose in all directions. It`s up to you really, you could challenge yourself and look for the more dangerous enemies, or continue as you have been. 

Korthose: Much like Vetis, your actions are your own to decide. Much to the dismay of the Lord of Change, Wyrdcaller has been targeted by a squad of sisters carrying Heavy Bolters as well as a Chimera transport bearing a multilaser. Will you aid him by removing one of his attackers at your own risk? Or leave him to fend for himself and choose a safer adversary? 

Lacaressa: You find your way to the flank of the sister`s battleline. Caressela gives you a mischevous grin that you`ve seen all too many times before. You are essentially in direct competition with the furies and other daemons to corrupt and claim as many souls as you can.

From the previous conquest, Lacaressa received the unholy might gift (physically stronger) and the allure of Slaanesh (making you better at what you do, even against foes as devout as battle sisters).


ooc: Bear with me guys, something important is coming up in the next update. Anon`s real purpose is about to become known. :biggrin:


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

(ooc: this post is both before and after your last update, sorry i have been busy)

Viralistopheles's progression was slow on this Terrain, and he was being cautious after the would he took from the grey knights. Watching the others wade into the foe, and succeed with the help of the furies however gave him the confidence he needed. He drew close to the enemy, then withdrew. Then again, drawing close and then withdrawing... never giving them a clear shot, never giving them a chance at melee... this was hard for Viralistopheles, because he is not swift, but he managed.... finally, Poxgiver offered the chance Viralistopheles had been looking for. Poxgiver drew the attention of the Celestials and the condensed on Poxgiver to try to take him out, then Viralistopheles charged.....

Caught somewhat unawares the Celestials, readied for melee against Viralistopheles, not knowing that was not his intention.... as his legs spread and leaking blackened anus came into view the Celestial Sister Superior who was disgusted, and raised her Chainsword to strike only to be Doused with Viralistopheles's Breath of Chaos, striking into the heart of the group... Viralistopheles's especially enjoyed how the sister with the Imagifer's eyes widened just before her death.... Then, one of the Celestials, who was nothing but average, armed with a bolter suddenly changed.... and leapt forward with speed and grace like no other. This was no celestial..... it was a Callidus Assassin! Viralistopheles was shocked at first...., it leapt toward Viralistopheles and swung it's C'tan Phase sword severing two of Viralistopheles's tentacles. Viralistopheles knew he had to use all his might to face this foe, and lunged forward with all his tentacles losing 3 more in the thrust, but managed to constrict around the Assassin's arm and leg.... Viralistopheles could feel Poxgiver's power surging through him as he brought his Pincer claws to bear and cut the Assassin in half... Viralistopheles's missing five tentacles grew back into ten. Viralistopheles laughing, looked to Poxgiver who's toothy smile was ear to ear.

But Viralistopheles, and Poxgiver's joy was short lived... as the furies swooped down to take the easy leftover kills.... this enraged Viralistopheles. As he looked to Poxgiver who gave him a nod, Viralistopheles used his tentacles to latch onto a fury, then another, and another... the furies were trying to fly away wanting nothing to do with Viralistopheles. Finally once Viralistopheles had 4 furies by the legs, and was being lifted off the ground..... Viralistopheles used his strength to bring them together, and then managed another gout of Chaos breath onto the entrapped furies.... falling a short distance, Viralistopheles was a but disoriented when he landed, looking around, he saw Anon, facing him in the distance... he could not tell if Anon was looking at him, as he could not see his eyes, but a bit of sick feeling crept into Viralistopheles. Hurrying to catch up to Poxgiver who had moved on, Viralistopheles was proud of himself.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt's temper had swirled violently in his mind. The image of his dead cohort had appeared infront of his eyes, stalking about to inspect the corpses of fallen sisters, before vanishing back into nothingness. His vision had blurred with an orange tint, the outlines of his bulging veins clearly visible. He grunted heavily - not because he was tired, but because he was angry. Then he'd relapse back into a dark state, nearly collapsing to the ground a few times. All the while, the battle around him seemed blurry, the noises muted to a whisper. What was he to do? He didn't want to fight anymore... Or did he? His mood switched violently again, throwing him into an angry stupor. He pounded onwards, taking long strides, his carapaced armor shifting as his moved.

The sounds of battle had removed the cotton from his ears, as Bonecrusher came under fire from a heavy piece of artillery. Gong'Alt couldn't help but smile a bit. No one mattered to him anymore. He was alone - as far as he was concerned, there were no allies. Then a long, thick beam of power had shot forth from the smoke of battle, as Wyrdcaller came to the Khorne daemon's aid. Gong'Alt cared not, for it was of no benefit to him. The large daemon roared in frustration, having been bested by the humans. Gong'Alt glanced left once more, catching sight of a large group of sisters advancing, shining guns in their hands. He battled too many times not to recognize them. The first time he saw one, it had blasted a hole straight through one of his brethren, and just barley missed Gong'Alt who happened to be standing behind him. Bonecrusher wouldn't make it under a single volley from the potent weapons. He merely grunted. It didn't matter.

He stalked on into the distance, keeping his eye on the sisters incase they spotted him and opened fire. He crouched down behind a large boulder. He wanted to go back through the Warp rift. There he'd be reunited with his cohort, and he'd deal with Tha'Aktos another time. After all, he had eternity to plan his attack.

Peering back over the rock, his vision once again blurred over with a heavy orange tint, his veins creating cracks in his vision. His whip lashed about, igniting small patches of grass. Then, the heads of the sisters grew disproportionate, sprouting long horns, and taking on a terrifying, red face. They all pivoted towards him and snarled his name with a mocking tone; "Gong'Alt... Khorne's weakest! Think you're tough because you're so tall? You think you're better than me? Come fight! I'LL TAKE YOU DOWN!"

With that, Gong'Alt sprung forth from the boulder, roaring his fury upon the sisters; "I'LL KILL YOU THA'AKTOS!" He charged into the sisters, swinging his blazing blade in wide arcs, slicing through the humans' bodies with ease. "I'LL SMASH YOUR STUPID SKULL AGAINST THE ROCKS AND GRIND YOUR TINY BODY INTO A DAMN SLURRY, THAT WONT EVEN BE WORTHY OF FEEDING THE HOUNDS!" He grabbed one by the head and tore it from the body, spinal cord still attached. The others backed up in fear, and readied their weapons. To Gong'Alt, he did not see terrified looks, but rather the laughing face of Tha'Aktos. He orared again, "I'LL RIP YOUR TONGUE FROM YOUR IDIOTIC MOUTH AND SMASH OFF YOUR JAW! THEN I'LL GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES WITH MY THUMBS AND TOSS YOUR CORPSE INTO THE LAKES OF BLOOD!" He swung once more, slicing two of the sisters in half. Another one had Gong'Alt's head through her ironsights, and she fired.

Making use of his quick reflexes, Gong'Alt dropped to the ground and performed a backflip which had knocked the sister off balance. Regaining himself, he stepped ontop of her and kicked away the meltagun. "What's a matter? Can't kill me? You pathetic creature! Khorne had never intend-" He screamed loudly and pounded his fists into Tha'Aktos' face, pulverising the skull, and releasing pools of brain-matter. The dead sister lay beneath his feet, and he panted heavily, roaring in animalistic fury, swinging his hellblade wildly in all directions, tears pouring from his eyes.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Aktos was finally having some fun! An endless horde of the corpse gods minions blocking his murderous path; they stood no chance against him, he knew it! More and more furies came from the warp portal, enhancing their strength against the dwindling human force.

Tearing through the midriffs of two sisters, he glanced over to his rival Gong'alt. He noted that he was serving Khorne well; but he was the superior daemon. Only the strongest daemon could make sure his cohort was not destroyed, especially in the _very first battle._ Gong'alt was wasting too much time; he noted Gong'alt slaughtering one human on the floor, a quick look could tell the mortal was long dead. Why waste such precious killing time mutilating a corpse? Khorne does not care for this; he cares for more skulls and blood! Tha'Aktos did not waste time with such useless actions; every one of his movements claimed more skulls for his patrons throne. Khorne would notice this, and Khorne would reward...

A whole squad of 10 battle sisters fell under his cohorts swift advance. With the furies to distract the other humans, the fighting had become less intense; enabling him to slaughter his way without much trouble. He would soon reach the 100 mark; but he would aim for much higher. More sisters fell to the cohorts blades; their armour melting under the power pulsing through their weapons, their iron will beginning to crack as they realised their doom.

More furies advanced, one he recognised to be Nikar, a fury he had known previously. He saw the challenging gaze in the furies eyes, and was only to ready to accept. With a nod, and then a snarl, he leapt into the closest group of sisters, hacking left and right. 3 Sisters died in the inital assault, a further 2 dying as they pitifully attempted to defend themselves. The fury may have been able to fly above the battlefield and swoop down on his prey, but the entire time Nikar was doing that, Tha'Aktos was hacking away gleefully.

He was a daemon built for murder; how could a chaos reject hope to defeat him? How absurd! As they slaughtered their way through countless souls, he was impressed by Nikar almost keeping up with him; but Tha'Aktos was too fast; never did he rest from the slaughter. Evertime he went up to the sky or fed, he lost valuable seconds which Tha'Aktos easily capitalised on.

Two of his cohort were lost during the challenge, but he did not care. He was too lost in the moment of battle to even notice. He would not have known if any of his cohort even remained with him.

By the time Nikar was recalled by his master, the score was around 62 - 58 to Tha'Aktos. His muscles were tired, but his bloodlust overshadowed any fatique he should have been feeling. He was impressed by Nikar though, and bet that his kil tally was greater than Gong'alt's; especially if he still wasted his time so on corpses...

(ooc I was a bit rushed, so will hopefully be able to improve tomorrow)


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera Auress ran swiftly along the left flank of Anon's forces, slowly progressing further and further to the side. Whenever she met resistance, she simply danced past, flying over enemies with deft leaps, pausing only to brush herself against them as she dodged their blows. These Sisters of Battle would prove hard to seduce, even for Lacessera, and their armour too strong to penetrate. As though hearing her thoughts, Caralessa turned around, and beckoned to the daemonette. The Keeper of Secrets took Lacessera in her claws, much to the joy of the daemonette, who began writhing ecstatically. Chuckling softly, the Greater Daemon instilled the powers of Unholy Might and Allure of Slaanesh upon her favourite girl. Having received these gifts, Lacessera fell upon the floor, squealing in delight. After the rapt seizure had passed, Lacessera looked up to see a Battle Sister standing over her.

Lacessera quickly rolled up onto her taloned feet, before noting that the Sister wasn't attacking. She was drooling. Her boltgun discarded next to her, the Sister advanced, hands outwards and groping, trying to reach for Lacessera's pale flesh. Giggling, the daemonette allowed the Sister to move her hands along her body and waist, before bringing both her bladed limbs down across her head, decapitating her instantly. Already, her new-found strength and beauty had made their mark. Skipping into the flank of the enemy battleforce, Lacessera began a dance of death.

A group of three Sisters faced the young daemon. Laughing softly, Lacessera sidled up to the first, rubbing her body against the Sister's armour, before stabbing her straight through her back, and puncturing her breastplate. The other two Sisters suddenly re-gained composure, and began firing boltgun shells. Snarling, Lacessera gripped the body of the still dying Sister in talons. Whilst pressing herself tight against the rear of the Sister, Lacessera used her as a meat shield, advancing on the two other Sisters. One of them tried to come around Lacessera's rear. Just as she thrust forward with a combat blade, Lacessera leapt upwards, somersaulting neatly and landing on the Sisters shoulders, her thighs gripped tight around the Sister's neck, and her face covered by Lacessera's thin, purple loincloth. The Sister groped madly through the air, before stumbling and falling. Lacessera landed gracefully, kissing the lips of the fallen Sister before running her through.

Several bolt shells impacted along Lacessera's rear, and she cried in pain. Out of the corner of her eye, Lacessera saw that the Sister facing her was weak-willed. So, feigning defeat, Lacessera fell to the ground. As the Sister approached to finish the job, Lacessera displayed her full body to the enemy. Again, the Allure of Slaanesh did its job, and the Sister dropped her weapon, and stumbled to the floor, falling onto Lacessera and kissing madly at her flesh. Lacessera didn't even kill the Sister, but allowed her to pull apart her own armour to expose her flesh to the daemonette's. Finally, throwing off her last garbs, the Sister too was naked, and both daemonette and Sister sprawled onto the floor, their arms intertwined, and both moaning ecstatically. Finally, the Sister began to experience seizures, as the pleasure became too much. Lacessera's own joy soon melted away, and, after a few final thrusts from the maddened woman, Lacessera stood, and sliced her body in two.

Lacessera laughed slightly, and turned back to face the enemy. How she enjoyed the passion of the living.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu simply chuckled at Anon's remark, the Furies slaughter of the Sisters was merely furthering Oon'Nu's own goal; spread plague and disease and expand the horde of mindless undead he had began creating earlier. It was still furthering the goal, as the more dead that clawed down the living only added to the tally of souls reaped. As an added bonus created a greater Plague God presence in the area.

There were so many bodies just lying about, someone could trip.

He would just have to do something about all those corpses, they would make a fine addition to the horde, Oon'Nu's flies had been feasting on spilt organs from the dead and dying, they returned at his call, forming a milling cloud that gradually dispersed through the battlefield

His instructions to the insects, and his two surviving Nurglings, were clear; infect corpses and generally cause mayhem while Oon'Nu helped out with killing the enemies.

The Plaguebearer charged gleefully into the fray, staggering into a Sister and knocking her to the ground, he opened his mouth gaping wide and regurgitated the entire contents of his distended stomach, hitting the Battle Sister directly, the vicious acid swiftly eaten through armor and flesh.

He grinned through broken teeth and waded through the liquefied mess that had recently been living and headed towards thicker fighting, his blade pulsing dully as it dripped venomous secretions.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The Sky blackened as what little light above was destroyed by the shadows of the furies that flew overhead. Swarms of them engulfed the battlefield, their fiendish cackling could be heard above all else. They swooped low and captured sisters with their talon like feet before flying high once again to gut their prey and send their mutilated corpse spiraling back down to the dirt. Some went for the more direct approach and slammed headlong into the Sisters fire to shred the enemy at ground level. Wyrdcaller relied what orders Anon had for Vetis before continuing to rain a hailstorm of fiery death onto the Esslesiarchy. He must destroy the heavy weapons carriers that advanced with the Canoness, _Don’t have to tell me twice_ Vetis remarked as he dodged another meltagun shot aimed at his upper torso. A wall of sisters advanced slowly in the wake of the Canoness, the furies came like lambs to the slaughter and their winged bodies crashed into the ground all around him as the sisters riddled them with holes.

Vetis had long ago given up hope of hitting anything from other then furies form a ranged distance there were just too many. Using the furies as cover Vetis and his two remaining minions scurried their way through the carnage to meet with the sisters head on. Daemonic fire burned around his four arms and he leaped into battle, immediately killing one of the sisters by impaling her with his arms. The strength of the warp fires that he had summoned to surround his limbs burned straight the power armor of the sister, her wards of protection no were near as strong enough as the grey knights that they had faced earlier and burned away at the presence of such strong warp contamination. Yet she was not the only one to combat and the sisters beside her jumped into the melee, Vetis counted a dozen of them three of them held melta weapons. Luckily his little ones needed no incentive and attacked, delighting in the blood that oozed from the deep wounds they inflicted. Two of the sisters were mauled to death in the little ones blind search for Slaughter, the rest may prove more troublesome. But it was then that the furies took advantage of the distraction that Vetis had created and swooped in to tackle the sisters to the ground and rejoice in their enemies’ cruel misfortune. But Vetis did not welcome their presence if he hoped to gain new rewards from Tzeentch he must claim more kills! 

Blasting some of the furies aside Vetis scurried to higher ground, he smiled as he spotted his prey. The Canoness was still advancing her head would entitle him to a pretty prize.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose hurried past a group of ravening furies towards Wrdcaller. Korthose did not particularly like the lord of change but he hoped to rise ever higher in the eyes of his lord. The cannoneer should not be a problem but meltaguns were very potent weapons. He decided his best use would be to harass the sisters with fireballs with barrage after barrage and then ducking into cover. Korthose was about to execute this plan when a near naked sister streaked across the battlefield, Korthose quickly incinerated her, he could not help but think that the slaneshi would have loved to be where he was at that moment in time. He shook the thoughts from his head and concentrated of the task infront.

He leap up and threw a bright orange fireball, it would have hit the cannoness has not a fury decided to dove into the fireball and getting itself burned to cinders. The second bolt was not as accurate but was not pestered by suicidal furies, it fell a pace right if the melta wielding sisters, a nearby cloth wearing sister was burned to cinders in place, the heat from the fireball lit her robes on fire, she was so drugged up she didn't notice the burning until it began to fry her eyebrows infront of her eyes, by then it was to late and she knew it so in a feeble act of resistance she ran towards the daemons only to be crushed by bonecrushers massive foot. Korthose chuckled to himself, he was not going to succeed in doing any damage and the sisters would soon realise it to and stop concentrating on him and go to wrdcaller. He needed something better.

The answer arrived in the shape of a hawk, it swooped down to shoulder height and curved around the battlefield, it flew toward the horror, it tried to swoop away but the daemon quickly snapped out to grab it by the neck. He summoned one of his minions, he did not explain why he did it but he stuck his hand out and ripped the soul from the horror. An extra pair of hand sprouted from his body. He set a light flame in one hand and began to light the bird, the other two conjured fireballs and prepared to throw. He launched the burning bird in the air and threw his fireballs.

They arced perfectly, two fireballs thudded into ones chest, causing no major damage but forcing her back a pace. The bird slowly fluttered to it's death before the cannoness, he hoped they would think the same way he did. He hoped they would assume he was mocking the aquilla by setting a bird on fire and take it as a higher offese than simply existing. They took the bait.....


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Sleepers awake*

Anon surveyed the battlefield with a grim detachment. One the one hand, the release of so much psionic energy was sure to awaken the necrons beneath and lay open the path to his objective. But such devout souls being sacrificed would surely please the chaos gods as well. If their... gifts became too powerful, Anon would be forced to rely on his trump card. Wyrdcaller already knew such subservience but it would be unfortunate to show his hand too soon...

With disdain, Anon noticed one of the plaguebearers attacking several of the furies. Almost at the same time, one of the horrors blasted apart several of the furies as well. 

'Grrr.' Anon growled in frustration. 'Damn creatures, why can`t they work with one another? Little wonder their kind will soon be dead.' 

Confident in his plan, Anon strode forth, stepping with a casual disregard over the corpses of sister and daemon alike. Any moment now, the sleepers would awake. Any moment now, they would-

'MASTER!' Lakhi flew screaming towards him. Instantly, the furies began to mill about uncertainly, the handful of sisters still alive looking as unsure as their daemonic foes. The ground beneath them began to rumble, something was rising, something big...

'What the hell have you done this time?!' Wyrdcaller screeched from above. 'Damn you, you little shadeling, your trickery will be the doom of us all!'

_That`s exactly my plan, fool._ Anon thought. 'Relax, Lord of Change.' He called calmly. 

'Relax?!' Wyrdcaller screamed, descending through the twisting sky and landing before Anon. 'Surely you know what you have done?' 

'OF COURSE!' Anon bellowed, cowing even the Lord of Change. 'Do you think you had a higher purpose than this? All I needed you and your wretched kind to do was awaken the necron from their slumber. You can all perish in flames now for all I care!' 

With that, Anon bolted forth, Lakhi in close pursuit. As if from some unseen signal, Nikar and Bragi closed in on his locations. Anon jumped, landing lightly on Nikar`s back. The large fury bore the lithe Anon`s weight easily, and the three furies swept high into the sky, flanked on all sides by a wall of their lesser peers as the ground beneath them finally cracked...


--- --- --- 


Tha`Aktos: The ground splits open as Nikar breaks off from your contest with a contemptuous glare. Still assailed on all sides by the sisters, necron warriors begin to crawl from the ground in all directions. Have no fear, for more of the warp`s gifts have been bestowed upon you. You have received the Blessing of the Blood God. The enemy`s attacks bounce harmlessly from your armour, only the strongest of attacks has any chance of harming you.

Gong`Alt: Khorne`s bloodlust invigorates you like never before. The foolish humans before you are pulped without effort, and even the necrons are seen to pause before they advance on you. Even so, they won`t back down, so you must fight. You`ve been given Unholy Might, making your strength match any potential rivals.

Viralistopheles: Looking at Anon, you noticed the unpleasant exchange between him and Wyrdcaller. Something is definitely wrong, but there is no time to dwell on it now, necrons are crawling from the ground everywhere.Nurgle bestows upon you the Aura of Decay, causing anything prone to rust rot or ruin to deteriorate by your mere presence.

Vetis: As one of the last Sisters approaches you, intent on her final act of defiance, the ground splits asunder, and necrons begin to crawl from every crevice. Caught in a crossfire, you must go all out to survive. Fortunately, your patron provides. You are now a Master of Sorcery, your magic and skills flow from your form as deftly as a Bloodthirster wields his axe. Your power has increased dramatically.

Korthose: As the Canoness faces off against Vetis, the Celestian bodyguards turn to target you, easily baited by your insult. But you quickly observe that they are far from the only threat. The batlefield was slowly filling with necron warriors, their guns laying waste to the ranks of the furies. Realizing their odds of survival all but gone, the sisters resolve to die in flames. One of them begins priming their immolator to explode. Stop them. You have been gifted with the Bolt of Tzeentch, a blast of incredible power.

Oon`Nu: Your army of zombies cannot stop the emerging necrons, but they can provide the distraction you and your cohort need. Why they are here you can only guess at, all that matters now is your own self preservation. Nurgle grants you the Daemonic Gaze ability, you are able to stike down your foes with a single contemptuous glare from your eye.

Lacaressa: With all the sisters dead, you begin to fear for boredom. All that changes however when the necron warriors begin to emerge. These machines have neither the urges of the flesh nor the means to fulfil them, rendering your allure mostly useless. You and Caressela are forced to rely on might to win this battle, something neither of you are lacking. You receive the breath of Chaos, a short range breath attack, in whatever form suits you.


ooc: They`re here. Guess who`s coming next? :biggrin:


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera was getting bored. Really, really, bored. This was not a good thing. The Sisters facing her were no longer pleasured by excess, simply cut down. Carassela sensed her little daughter's unrest, and attempted to soothe the het-up daemonette. Lacessera enjoyed the sensation, but still her thirst was more. She needed to face something with substance, some enemies that she couldn't just brush aside carelessly. It was an urge unlike her abnormal cravings, a strange bloodlust she had never felt before. She wanted a strong adversary.

And she got it.

Suddenly, the ground shook, cracks in the earth appearing, dust spilling forth in mighty clouds. And from the cracks, came the enemy. Metallic warriors advanced upon Lacessera and the daemons. Squealing in delight, Lacessera ran over to the closest enemy, who was still crawling out of the ground. Lacessera flaunted her flesh in front of the warrior, kneeling before the enemy, who was still half-buried, and leaning forward provocatively. She was purely irresistible.

The clawing, metallic hands groped forward, just as Lacessera expected. She squealed ecstatically at the roughness of the soldier's grip, enjoying the sensation of the cold metal. What she didn't expect was for the soldier to grip her fully, and slam her to the floor, before rising from the ground, and bringing a weapon to bear. Crying in fright, Lacessera saw that there was no escape. Suddenly, from deep within her bosom, she felt a warm, bubbly, melting sensation. The Breath of Chaos was bestowed upon her, and she writhed in pleasure for a fraction of a second. Instants after, she exhaled, a mighty, pink cloud of heady incense and powerful scent. The cloud hit the enemy warrior, who began to melt away as the warping gas ate away at the metal body.

The Necron, as Lacessera now realised it was, fell to the floor, bubbling into nothing. Even though it had no lust for her, Lacessera still felt a strong attraction to their strong, metal bodies, and took the head of the Necron warrior, kissing it, before throwing it back down onto the rest of its melting armour.

Turning to her mistress, Lacessera ran to the Keeper of Secrets, running under its legs to help fight. As Carassela destroyed the enemies in scores, Lacessera leapt out from the protective shadow of the Greater Daemon to attack the Necrons trying to sweep around behind or to the flank, using her new-found power before cutting the warriors apart. However, the scent proved to by her undoing. The musk that had surrounded her began to intoxicate Lacessera, firmly thrusting her into ecstatic joy. She ran to the nearest Necron warrior, and, instead of covering the machine in lustful breath, she instead began stabbing straight away, her bladed limbs no match for the unhindered metal armour. Finally, she gave in, and ran onto the warrior, pulling it to the floor, and devolving into orgasmic thrusts. The Necron was completely un-phased, and grabbed the writhing form of Lacessera, and began to fire gauss point-blank.

The weapon should've snapped Lacessera out of her reverie, but, instead, as a cause of the cloud of scent, it sent Lacessera further into her depraved pleasures, as she groped for the Necron and began kissing whatever she could reach. The Necron continued to swipe at her madly pulsing form. It seemed Lacessera was trapped.

Caught by her own pleasure, her only hope was some sort of intervention... something would have to save her.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt had risen slowly from the corpse of the sister he had just killed. Shiny, metallic creatures clawed their ways forth from the ground, like the risen dead. Then, Gong'Alt's body rippled and seethed with power, an overwhelming sense of anger came over him, and his muscles popped out farther, like instant-inflating balloons. He roared with Khorne's fury and charged, lopping off the heads of rising machines with his Hellblade. He had never faced these enemies before, so he wouldn't know how to counter them once they rose from the ground.

The first of the machines had got to its feet, and Gong'Alt got a clear image of his new foe. Their heads resembled perfect, smooth skulls. Their backs are more protected than their fronts. They looked like hunched-over humanoids, with a body made of living metal. The most disturbing aspect, however, was the green light emerging from the eye-holes and their potent weapons.

Gong'Alt had not wished to witness the power of the weapon, so he charged, sword held high. The Necron attempted to counter his attack with the axe-like bayonet on its weapon, but Gong'Alt was too quick, and lopped off its head. 

Looking around him, other warriors had risen from the ground, their weapons flaring. He ducked and dodged. He took cover behind a boulder, but soon realized tht the weaponry of the Necrontyr had disentegrated it, taking it down atom from atom. A sense of fear came over him - his armor would be useless! An enemy circled around and blasted, just as Gong'Alt leapt out of the way. He glanced right just in time to catch sight of yet another beam, and used his superior speed to roll out of the way. He regained his footing and gazed upon the advancing horde of shining warriors.

He was outnumbered and outgunned. He would be forced to charge at them, but they would just scythe him down in the flurry of gunfire. How couls Anon have let this happen!? Surely he should have been more prepared before he sent us to a Tombworld! He snarled at the machines who were slowly advancing, readying their weapons. Then, a voice entered his head; _Whatsa matter? Scared?_ He screamed, wishing Tha'Aktos's voice away. He charged, screaming obscenities and curses, wishing the daemon was a Daemonette so that he could crush him easy. The forces backed up, expressionless, and fired. He dodged extremely quickly, ducking, then rising up to slash his blade clean through their solid metal bodies. "DIEEEEE!!!!" He charged again, cleaving through the ranks of Necrons. He lost track of time as the warriors succumbed to his brutal blows. His head swivelled savagely to meet his foe's position. It was Tha'Aktos, and he was scared! That pitiful fool! He lungeded towards his enemy and srceamed, "Hey, Tha'Aktos!? I'M COMING FOR YOU!" He charged with super-natural speed, and rose his Hellblade from beneath his crotch, cutting the red daemon in two. He screamed uncontrollably, and spat on the corpse. Looking closer, he noticed a slight glint of the sun, until the whole image came into view. It was a Necron. 

He had killed them all. They look more powerful than they really are! Gong'Alt went on in bounding steps, towards a cliffside. He approached the edge and looked down, upon the giant metal structure. Gong'Alt epicly jumps onto the gargantuan form of a Monolith. All seems lost as the power engines warm up, and the Particle Whip begins to aim at the daemon. Suddenly, in an epic feat of epicness, the daemon plunges his hand into the core of the Particle Whip, turning it onto itself, and destroying the Monolith in a spectacular fashion, surfing the shock-wave along one of its gauss projectors, and landing neatly next to Anon.

Anon: That still only counts as one!

ooc: Sorry, I just had to do that...


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu watched with a slight frown as the ground heaved in torment, the cold metal figures of Necron's emerging, what an unexpected turn of events; and to top it all off it seemed that Anon had fled the field of battle, obviously seeking some other goal know that the Daemon cohorts would bear the brunt of the Necron retaliation.

His horde was many and each responded to the hunger pulsing within them and reached mindlessly for their metal foes, nails breaking on unyielding steel, they would do little but slow the Necrons, perhaps enabling other Daemons to destroy as many enemies as possible before his zombies all fell.

His blade cleaved through the arm of a Necron, the toxins immediately blighting the metal and spreading, sure the Necron was organic but his virulent diseases took to metal as if made for it.
A cry reached his shriveled ears and he paused to listen, ignoring a gauss round that punched through his stomach, an absent swipe dealing with the offending warrior, the shout had come from a Daemon, and by the tone of it said Daemon was actually a Daemonette. Now what sort of trouble could one of those get into against the unfeeling Necrons? Surely they weren't...aroused by the look of the Necrontyr, ugly lumps of metal that they were, Oon'Nu was oblivious to his own grotesque appearance.

Well, normally he would completely ignore the plight of those not of the Plague God but he believed that allies would be greatly needed in the coming hours, despite the strengthening darkness that engulfed the planet. As he approached Oon'Nu could not help but breath in the pink-tinged musk, his reaction was instantaneous, hacking and spluttering he doubled over and coughed up a thick wad of lung tissue, as he straightened and wiped away phlegmy spittle he grimaced; what a horribly _pleasent_ smell.

His single milky eye blinked slowly as he made out the writhing form of the Slaaneshi Daemonette, terribly amusing spectacle though it was, now was not the time for standing around or allowing the frenzied Daemonette to perish while attempting to pleasure herself with a Necron warrior.
With a grim smile, he stepped forward, reached down and wrenched the Necron and Lacessera away from each other, the Necron immediately switched targets to him and the Oon'Nu tore it asunder, his palsied limbs fueled by the Unholy strength gifted to him earlier; he dropped the destroyed halves of the warrior, knowing it would not get up with extensive of damage done to it.

His one-eyed gaze turned to the Daemonette, as he spoke he fell into a fit of coughing. "You going to _*hack*_ get moving or continue _*kaff*_ hanging around the mindless ones?_*wheeze*_"
His own mindless horde had caught up with them and were becoming quite busy with hurling themselves bodil at the emerging Necrons.


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera dimly registered a Nurgle daemon ripping the Necron away from her, and destroying it. Suddenly noticing the daemon, as if for the first time, the pink musk again did its work. Instead of an oozing, slime-infested husk of a monster, Lacessera saw a muscled, masculine saviour, and immediately sprang to her feet. Lacessera leaned in, and gave the daemon a long, passionate kiss. She poured her affection into the kiss, squirming around the pus pouring out of the Nurgle daemon, and moving her arms up and down its disgusting body, like a woman possessed. After her mad kiss had ended, Lacessera stood back, just as a strong gust of wind blew her loincloth upwards, further revealing her already half-naked body.

However, the breeze also removed the musky scent, and Lacessera was soon returned to her normal state. Realising what it was that she had gorged herself upon, Lacessera immediately turned away, before leaning in and saying:

"Whilst you have my gratitude, if you speak of this again, I will slice you into little maggoty chunks, and subject you to the worst possible sexual torture you could possibly imagine. Worse than any of your plagues, or your diseases, worse than any wound or grievous injury, worse even than death itself. I will make you want me so badly that you kill yourself with anticipation. Do you understand me?" Lacessera whispered, coldly. Having said what she had to say, Lacessera leaned back, and ran back to her Carassela.

The Keeper of Secrets wondered what troubled Lacessera, but she only replied:

"Nothing. I bit off more than I could chew."


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

"HAHAHAHAHA!!" the laughter of a small girl coming from the girth of Viralistopheles as he felt the raw nurgle power flowing through him. The furies felt it burn their hides and at first it is why he thought they fled, then he looked to anon and saw him fleeing.... and felt the tremors in the ground. "COWARD!" Viralistopheles called to Anon in a child's voice .

The Necrons were something Viralistopheles had only witnessed second hand before. But he knew they were exceedingly difficult to kill... Even now as he surveyed the battle commencing, his fellow daemons fell several of the Necrons and moved on to fight more, but Viralistopheles watched as many of the fallen rose again. Viralistopheles summoned his Plague Beasts he had been holding back to rally around him.... they took a few shots of the Necron weaponry, but Viralistopheles could tell they would not last long. Viralistopheles set them all in one direction, toward the center of the battle. He also saw that the Necrons felled by his beasts instantly tarnished and their bodies truly died, in his presence. It was his Aura of Decay.

As Viralistopheles moved he shouted to his fellow deamons in a childlike voice at first, "RALLY! RALLY!" then, getting frustrated at being ignored, his true daemon voice rose... Guttural, and deep. it shook the ground around Viralistopheles and Viralistopheles slamed his body into the ground for added effect. "RALLY RALLY TO NURGLE... OUR DECAY CAN PIN THEM AND CAUSE TRUE DEATH... RALLY RALLY TO NURGLE! "

Looking to Poxgiver, Viralistopheles sets up a defensive position, and uses his beasts to attack as many Necrons as he can.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Just as Tha'Aktos slayed another sister, he saw Nikar fly off with a contemptious look on its misbegotten face. "Foolish reject, how could it possibly help to defeat me?" Just as two more sisters fell under his blades, he began to rise in the air. His veins began to fill with the holy power of the warp, his skin hardening as he rose. Then with all of a sudden, he slammed back in to the floor, the raw power of the fall shattering the bones of 3 sisters. 

As he rose, he felt his now-rock solid skin. "I have been blessed..." Tha'Aktos realised. Screaming his thanks to Khorne, he charged through the remaining Sisters, as mysterious bodies rose from the ground.

"Necrons...?" Tha'Aktos loathed these creatures; their deaths had no effect on Khorne, every moment spent killing them was a waste of precious skull-collecting time. He had only fought them once before, and had since attempted to stay away from their presence, thinking them a waste of time.

He glanced over at Bonecrusher, who was already smashing his way through metal carapaces. What a glory it would be to defeat such a killing machine, Tha'Aktos thought. Khorne would surely reward him for defeating such a beast as Bonecrusher; much more so than killing these worthless Necrons...

The thought was pushed from his mind as he narrowly avoided a swing from some sort of weapon he did not recognise. Spinning on his feet, he slashed his hellblades through his assailants body. But before he could celebrate, a countless horde of rising metal came before his eyes. He would not win this fight, he knew. 

He resolved that he would fight, but his main priority was to escape and seek more skulls for Khorne. Fighting Necrons has no point for a true servant of Khorne. _Maybe that's why Gong'alt is getting so involved_ Tha'Aktos chuckled to himself. Killing another Necron before he could attach, he signalled for his cohort to fall back, killing any Necron they came across in the process.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The ground below his feet ruptured and split, the battlefield shook and the daemons and Sisters alike were distracted, if only for a moment from killing each other. Metal beings came forth from the cracks in to the earth and immediately begun to fire in all directions, the sister who had been hell bent on seeing Vetis fall only seconds before was now flayed alive by the green energy weapons of the metal beings. Necrons, Vetis believed they were called a nuisance is all they are in the galaxy and to his memory why they are here in the first place. 

Vetis let shots fly into everything around him that wasn’t pink, purple or multi limbed, the bolt of Tzeentch made quick work of the Necron warriors taking arms and legs and even heads. Bits of metal and strange alien wiring flew through the air and lay scattered on the earth. Yet more were coming, growing in number and strength it would not be long before they regroup and strike back, how long would he be able to keep this up? 

Luckily the answer came to him, Vetis felt his every fiber tremble as it was infused with power and the sorcery that coursed through his body now became not just a direction of Tzeentchs will but a part of himself. The effects were devastating he no longer even had to focus to cast his fires it simply jumped from his hands and destroyed the Necron attackers at will.
More and more came, but more and more fell as Lighting split out from Vetis’s being and took whole chunks from the warriors, metal bodies lay dead by the dozen and Vetis stood immobile in the middle of it, Cackling at the power he was unleashing. 

As much as he was enjoying the situation it was time to make like a moral and flee, no matter how much he unloaded into the oncoming Necrons they didn’t let up and it would not be long before he was overrun. Leaving his two remaining minions to cover his retreat he ran to the safety of Wrydcaller.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Anon laughed in wry amusement as the daemons struggled with the necrons below. 

'They fare well, Master.' Bragi said, flying alongside Nikar. 

'It won`t matter in the long run.' Anon replied. 'The necrons can`t be stopped by the likes of us. We need to draw them out into the open. Force them to play their strongest hand. The gods have done as I expected so far, lavishing their attention on their favoured children and completely ignoring me. Those daemons down there, even if they do survive the necrons, will be too blinded by arrogance to believe I can threaten them.'

'But can you?' Nikar asked, banking slightly and causing Anon to shift his weight a little. 

'Is that mistrust, Nikar?' Anon asked. 'After everything I`ve done for you and your pack, are you now questioning my leadership?' 

'No Master.' Nikar replied, aware of the silver sword at Anon`s hip. 'But they are stronger than you now. We all see that. What will you do when they turn on you?'

'They were stronger than me from the start.' Anon replied. 'Even now, even then, I was nothing more than a lost soul drifting through the formless wastes. I was strong enough to keep my memories intact, but not strong enough to do anything more.'

'You are like us.' Lakhi said. 

'More so than you realize.' Anon said, almost with a hint of sadness. Almost...


'Land over there!' Anon called sharply. The cluster of furies descended sharply towards a patch of empty ground. Anon jumped off lightly, landing with a roll next to a huge rent in the ground. No more necrons were emerging from this part, so it seemed safe to descend.

'Nikar, Bragi.' Anon ordered. 'Lead the furies. Keep the necrons busy. And keep our... allies, occupied as well.'

'Master?' Lakhi asked.

'You`re with me, Lakhi.' Anon said. 'I`ll need your help.'

- - -

'That cursed traitor!' Wyrdcaller screeched in fury, blasting a small group of necron warriors into slag.

Nearby, Vetis and Korthose were instantly aware of their master`s distress. They had all been betrayed! 

'What are you babbling on about?!' Bonecrusher demanded. He swung his axe, destroying a necron leader with casual disdain, before turning to the Lord of Change.

'Anon played us all!' Wyrdcaller replied. 'We were nothing but bait to draw the necrons away from whatever his objective was!' 

'Then we have to get down there!' Poxgiver interjected, overhearing the conversation. 'But we must deal with these first!' 

'What do you suggest?' The bloodthirster roared, crushing a group of blade limbed necrons beneath his hooves.

'The tetragon!' Wyrdcaller shouted, loud enough for all to hear. 'NOW!'


In a blast of pulsating dark energy, the four greater daemons were linked by a chain of warp energy, forming a geographical polygon between them that pulsated with chaotic forces.

Unfortunately, several of the cohorts were caught outside the formation. And now, even more necrons were beginning to rise...


--- --- --- 


Tha`Aktos: You were inside the tetragon when it formed, fortunately. As it empowers you however, it also empowers the furies. Nikar lands before you, brimming with dark power. He has come to exact his last challenge to you. Nikar is a truly powerful foe, especially for a fury. The upper hand is yours, but it will take more than one post to defeat him.

Gong`Alt: You were caught outside the tetragon. As you begin to make your way towards it, a command level necron bars your path. Its carapace is black punctuated only by the green of its inner power source. Brandishing a warscythe, it prepares to cut you down. Necron or not, it is a formiddable adversary. This is not a one post kill.

Viralistopheles: You are inside the tetragon, but the furies are empowered as much as you. Bragi lands before you, intent on your demise. Bragi is faster than you, and can fly. This is not a one post kill.

Vetis: You are inside the tetragon. As the necrons are drained and fall before you, you see a group of furies taking advantage of the flowing energy to assail the Keeper of Secrets Caressela. Will you help her or not? This will impact the plot depending on whether you destroy the furies or let them kill her.

Korthose: Finish previous update. Then, you are caught outside the tetragon. As you make your way to the safety of its confines, you and your cohort are ambushed by a necron wraith. It has the ability to increase its own speed apparently, as well as the ability to teleport rapidly. Its dark carapace is illuminated only by the green glow of its eyes and talons.Not a one post kill.

Oon`Nu: You were caught outside the tetragon, having moved to assist the daemonette. Before you can make it back to safety, A large heavily armoured necron appears before you. its gun is very powerful, and when you close the gap it draws a warscythe. Even your nurglite gifts are diminished, as it seems able to reshape its metal form and resist the effects of rust.Not a one post kill.

Lacaressa: You were a short distance outside the tetragon. Before you can react, a necron crawls from the ground before you, its limbs end in knife like blades and the skin of flayed mortals hangs off its wiry frame. Belying its clumsy form, it moves at least as fast as you and its only interest is in wearing your skin. Not a one post kill. 


ooc: The end is in sight. Now is the time to give it your all! :wild:


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt ran towards the tetragon, where the four Greater Daemons had gathered to unleash the full power of the Warp upon the foe. He had to be there to defend Bonecrusher and allow the ritual to complete. Maybe then... maybe then he'd get his cohort back.

He ran, making use of his supernatural speed, slicing down a Necron as he passed. Then, he slowed to a walk when he approached a large cavernous wall. On the ground lay at least a dozen corpses of Sisters, all sprawled about, missing arms, legs, and heads on their bodies. He went forward a bit more, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a ghastly green light. A dark creature emerged from around the cliffside, using his Warscythe as a walking stick. It's carapace was shining a glossy black, as though all the sun's light was absorbed into the metal, never to be seen again. It's eyes and staff glowed with an eerie green light, that highlighted the armor.

It turned its gaze to meet the red daemon, and brandished its spear in both hands. Gong'Alt approached it, and roared, lashing his whip around him. It merely stood there, watching. This being was uttery fearless. Gong'Alt approached it, slightly quivering. The Necron Lord took a long stride forward, twriling his Warscythe with expert skill. Surely if Gong'Alt could defeat this foe, he would be proven better then Tha'Aktos. He roared and charged, and his nameless foe had followed suit.

They clashed with deadly blows, swinging at each other's bodies, Gong'Alt savagely, and the Necron Lord swiftly. They were both too fast, ducking and dodging with unatural speed. Gong'Alt's whip lashed at the enemy in an attempt to bind it, but the Lord sliced it in half with an upperhand slash. A wave of pain shot through Gong'Alt as the whip twitched spasmotically, blood squirting from the end. With a roar, he swung in a blind arc at the enemy's head, but it ducked and came up, knocking Gong'Alt back with a powerful uppercut.

The daemon jumped to his feet, just in time to see a blade swing towards his face. Gong'Alt ducked quickly with a sharp left turn, and saw half of his shoulder spike fall to the ground. He got up, furious at the machine's skill. He got up again, raising his Hellblade, but the Necron Lord performed an elegant and swift backflip, landing with its arms in balance, the cold green light still lingering within its empty eye sockets.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

The ground pulsed with energy as all four of the greater daemons shared their power in a formation known only as the “Tetragon”. That ring of power was all that stood between the daemon’s and the oncoming Necron horde, all around him the warriors of the C’Tan collapsed into the useless piles metal that they truly are as the ring drained their only life source. Yet the attackers gave no attention to their fallen comrades and continued to march on, seemingly unfazed. All around him the battle continued to rage, yet something had changed the furies were acting erratically, or at least more so towards their own side. One of the fiends dived low, a menacing smile was spread wide over its face and it became evident that it was taking pleasure in what had conspired. Its claws came out and Vetis was forced to dive away and headfirst into one of the rocky formations, there was no mistaking it the Furies were no longer on their side. Ignoring the pain from his forehead Vetis rose to his full height before blasting up at the sky; his lighting would prove to be quite the show for those looking over the battle. 

The blackened forms of the furies begun to spiral back down to the earth as his lighting struck them, many of the creatures took notice of their brethrens demise and forced Vetis back, inflicting several injuries to his being in the process. He was not the only one with problem however, out of the corner of his eye he could spot the Keeper of Secrets, Caressela . The furies were taking advantage of their added power and were assailing the Keeper from all angles. Blasting away his own attackers Vetis was able to secure a clear shot at the greater daemons assailants within moments his fires would be able to incinerate every single one of the fiends. He hesitated, lowering his arm Vetis begun to consider how helping this one would benefit Tzeentch or even himself. She served Slaanesh, but what good has that god brought to his masters plans? Yes let them destroy her instead it may be for the best. Turning his back to the greater daemon Vetis made to move hastily away, yet with a single abrupt movement he stopped himself.

_If I let her die then the Tetragon falls! _Vetis shivered as he finally realized the whole gravity of the situation. _If the Tetragon falls then the Necrons and furies overwhelm us_, _But Anon commands the furies which means that this is his doing! The warp creature has set us up! _

Spinning his whole body around to face the Keeper of Secrets once more he let his power run loose into the furies and charred their bodies until they merely dust in the wind. 

_If they overwhelm us then Anon wins, but Tzeentch will not lose to such a low plane spawn it is unheard of!_

With that his mind was made up, leaping from a rocky ledge he hit the floor next to the greater Daemon and snapped his warp energies into the sky once more, intent on sacrificing anything if it meant the continued existence of the Tetragon, even if it meant his mortal form.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu scowled at the Necron Immortal, why wouldn't it just keel over and rust like any decent creature? A lunge from it was parried by him, he retaliated with a double swipe that was knocked aside, with a speed belying his diseased frame he dodged backwards, gaining only a shallow cut across his chest.

A quick glance around proved that others had their own troubles, that worm Anon was gone and his pet Furies were turning on their more powerful kin, the Daemonette, he was still disgusted at her, and his, reaction earlier, was battling a Flayed One. Tha`Aktos was challenging the rather powerful Fury, Nikar, the other Bloodletter, Gong'Alt was fighting a rather strong common Necron, a Warrior.

His fellow PlagueBearer was also fighting a Fury, but they were both inside the tetragon, the Keeper of Secrets was being assailed by Furies and had only a Tzeentchian Daemon to gain aid from.
The other Horror was ambushed by a Wraith, Oon'Nu would get no aid from anyone, so be it.

He still had two Nurglings and, he smiled, his faithful little flies, he Called and they came, leaving what corpses that remained and swarming to him, and then they did what they do best; they annoyed.
His flies blocked vision and hampered the movement of the Necron, allowing Oon'Nu to create a gash that, despite the Immortals metal-shaping ability, slowly reddened as rust set in. Oon'Nu knew that that wound would not do much, but if more were created like it then the Necron would eventually succumb.

With a smile he lashed out, Daemon and Necron locked in a battle, the flies died in droves, their bodies crisping and turning to ash as the gauss weapon pulsed, the remaining insects continued their annoyance, always returning to disorient.
Once more, they clashed and Oon'Nu was forced to rely on every ounce of his combat prowess, never before had he been in such a prolonged contact, he gritted his teeth and spat a burning venom into the Necrons face and pressed the attack.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose weaved in and out of cover, he fired off barrage after barrage of fireballs. The cannoness was preoccupied with the other horror but her celestial bodyguards were menacingly making their way towards him. He cursed silently at his minions for getting themselves isolated and killed, Korthose looked up from his cover, two searing heat waves scorched past him, they missed but Korthose got the message they were trying to send. Although the horror did catch a glimpse of something metal crawling from the ground, he could dimly hear a conversation between anon and wrycaller, it seemed the traitor had used the daemons to awake these necrons.

Another blast of melta melted through the ruined husk of the tank he was using for cover. Korthose felt chaos energy prickle on his skin, he smiled, the gods were about to gift them again. He felt the power surge through his body, his hands bristled with power, if he did not get rid of it he would be overcome by it. He allowed the power to slip off his fingers, it flew off in a straight line and cleaved a near dead sister in two. Korthose realised what he had been gifted with, the bolt of tzeentch.

One of the sisters rounded the corner to be met by a face full of chaos energy, it made a clean hole, ironically it was in the shape of the mark of tzeentch. Korthose jumped up and facepalmed the other sister, he felt the humans soul leave her bosy and seep through his arm. Korthose felt his mind harden just slightly and his faith in his lord seemed to increase although he had no real way of telling it.

Korthose walked past the ruined tank to see the metallic beings, Korthose was mildly surprised but one of the books he read in the library from the initial assault said that this planet was suspected to be a tomb world by it's occupants. A warrior loosed a gause round it passed underneath the horrors outstretched arm. He snarled and turned to give the necron a bolt of tzeentch, the necron was hit in the left shoulder and was knocked to the ground.

Korthose grumbled to himself, he was annoyed that he had not foreseen anons treachery, it was no matter, he was certain of the daemons survival even against the necrons as well. Korthose surveyed the battlefield. The daemons had gained a fair bit of ground and Korthose was now behind the fighting, he saw a group of sisters rigging an immoltater to explode. Korthose broke into a sprint in pursuit of the tank, he wished he had brought his screamer (OOC: subtle enough hint serp?). He sent killed the first one with a fireball, she died with a scream alerting the other sisters, three came at him with chainswords, the first swipe came low so Korthose jumped, the second high forcing Korthose to swerve horizontally in the air. The last clipped his leg and chewed his flesh up a bit, but he was still battle worthy. Korthose countered with a bolt of tzeentch aimed at the first one, it his her hips and blew her lower body clean off from her torso, he then swerved and facepalmed the second, stealing her soul and leaving her lifeless corpse to rot in the churned up mud. The last one was a kill Korthose wanted to savour, he grabbed the chainswords motor and burned it clean through, he ripped the sisters generator from her back, the heavy adamantium weighed down on her now she did not have the assistance of the electrical power. Korthose pushed her to the ground, "your lucky I'm not a slaaneshi otherwise I would be raping you right now, instead I'm going to burn you like a pig on a spit." the sister lost faith and pleaded to the horror to allow her to live, Korthose granted her wish but soon she would regret ever opening her mouth to speak for her fate was one worse than death, it was eternal servitude to the lord of change.

Korthose walked into the tank to see a single sister trying to set the timer on her grenade, something made a clicking noise and the sister turned, she smiled at Korthose, "there is noting you can do to stop your little friends from perishing in flames now little daemon, even if you waste time killing me the bomb will have exploded by the-" she was cut off by the fact she no longer owned a face. Korthose did not have a way of stopping the bomb without sacrificing his life. he leapt outside the tank just as it's engines shuddered into life. Korthose stood, he had to take out the tracks, he steadied his right arm with his left and took aim, his bolt was true and the track slid off the wheels. The tank thudded to a stop a fair distance from his fellows. He sent a fireball towards the fuel tank, it ignited and created a large mushroom cloud of flames. Korthose did a clever little trick of re-arranging the flames in the shape or tzeentchs Mark. He knew the necrons would be unphased but the remaining sisters would be fairly demoralised.

Korthose weaved between battles between furies and necrons, necrons and daemons, daemons and furies. A necron wraith scythed a furies to prices and targeted him. He sent a bolt of energytowards the wraith, it would have hit the necrons head but the wraith was incredibly agile so it easily dodged it. The wraith slid it way over to him, it dodged yet more bolts sent off by Korthose, a fury dived at the wraith who put up his claws and allowed the fury to slide to it's own death. The necron was very sinister looking and it was then that Korthose realised how hard the fight ahead would be.

Korthose ran from the wraith, occasionally turning and letting loose a barage of magical attacks, it was no use though, the only attack that had hit was a single fireball that burned itself out without doing anything except making the wraith more lethal by being very, very hot. Korthose noticed the greater daemons form the tetragon on darkness, Korthose cursed his positioning but kept running, he tripped over a dead horror and hit his head on a rock.

He woke up in his mind, an idea came to him, "Allow the captured souls to give me their power," ^he didn't wait for a reply for he knew the wraith would be hovering over his body ready to strike.

He was right, the wraith was poised to strike, the talons erupted in green flames and started their descent towards the horros face, Korthose summoned two fierballs and met the wraiths talons with his hands. It was painful, very very painful, it took all of his strength not to let go. He felt two pairs of arms grow from his torso, he smiled with manic glee, he loosed four bolts of tzeentch, it dodged three but because it's movement was restricted by korthose holding his hands one shot thudded through it's right shoulder and took off it's arm. Now the battlefield was even, he sent a thought through his mind telling the blue horrors to recall the extra arms, he smiled and leapt at the wraith.........


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Atkos felt the energy of the tetragon as it pulsed in to life, protecting them from the Necron horde. He did not feel disapointed at the lack of combat that would ensue like he normally would; he knew the Necrons were a waste of his efforts. 

Just as he was turning to address his cohort, one of the chaos rejects approached him, the same one who challenged him earlier. He recognised it as Nikar, a fury helping the traitor Anon. It glared at him, a stare that could only mean one thing.

Tha'Aktos turned to his cohort. "Stay out of this," the menace in his voice overweighed any objections his cohort may have had. He walked towards Nikar, the fire in his eyes burning back in to Nikars. 

"Didn't you get your fill of defeat earlier, _reject_?" His tone was venemous, his hatred for this filth clear to see.
"Master orders your death, daemon. You stand no chance against me one on one." Nikar fought back, the two now circling each other, Nikar hovering lightly above the ground.
Tha'Aktos laughed. "You expect one such as yourself, once a mortal who was rejected by the great powers and thrown from their graces to become one that is nothing above the dirt under my feet. You think you can beet a champion of Khorne? Come, let me purge your presence from my sight, whelp!"

And with that, Tha'Aktos charged towards Nikar, aniticpating a great fight.


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralistopheles felt the awesome power of the tetragon flowing through him. He was so blinded by his new power he didn't see Bragi coming. Swooping down bragi hooked his claws into Viralistopheles and tried to lift him off the ground. But Viralistopheles huge girth was too much, and instead Bragi just ripped a large chunk out of Viralistopheles's side. Reeling in pain, Viralistopheles lurched back. Almost instantly though the pain was gone, and his side was knitting itself back together. 

With a hiss Bragi swooped back down, this time Viralistopheles's attention was focused, and he intensified his aura of Nurgle. Bragi felt nauseous, and unbalanced as it flew. Viralistopheles lunged with his tentacles at Bragi, and touched but didnt manage to grasp the daemon. Bragi swooped away to gather its senses, but as it approached Viralistopheles the nausea increased again so much so that Bragi decided to land.

Even on the ground Bragi waas much faster than Viralistopheles, but Viralistopheles has the reach advantage. And Bragi does not know about Viralistopheles's secret weapon, his chaos breath. For a time, Bragi was testing Viralistopheles's defense, approaching and withdrawing, making feint attacks.


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

OOC: Tee hee, quote "it is only interested in wearing your skin." Mistake, Serp, mistake. :laugh:

Lacessera danced amongst the Necrons, growing increasingly tired, when suddenly a nimbus of light exploded outward amongst the Greater Daemons. Lacessera was just outside it, so it didn't bother her. Although, the daemons inside seemed to pulsate with an unnatural energy... Lacessera liked the look of the muscular Khorne daemons, covered in glowing light. She started forward, when suddenly, to her ecstatic surprise, a Necron erupted from beneath her. 

Lacessera fell backwards, then looked up at what she faced. A hunched-over, evil looking Necron with sharp talons advanced upon her. It was covered in the flesh of the dead. Lacessera liked it immediately. Standing up, Lacessera readied herself to toy with the victim, which was obviously slow and cantankerous. Suddenly, the talons whipped out. Lacessera barely avoided in time, but her loincloth was ripped off completely, leaving her completely naked.

"Oh, you naughty Necron..." whispered Lacessera, dancing forward to engage her new toy. Jumping clean over a talon swipe, Lacessera landed on the shoulders of her enemy. Squeezing her thighs tight around the head of the Necron, Lacessera snapped her legs to the side, hoping to bring the head of the Necron in one move. Unfortunately, it stayed on, Lacessera's attack only moving the skin on the body upwards, covering Lacessera. Her combat instincts failed, and she lavished in the dead skin. The Flayed One slashed outwards, cutting Lacessera.

She landed deftly on the floor next to it. Now, it was serious. Lacessera wanted this Necron.

She wanted it dead.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*The Lost Blade*

Anon sniggered to himself as he wove through the silent hallways of the necrontyr tomb. Beside him, the fury Lakhi cowered in fear at every shadow, every hint of movement. 

'Why are you afraid?' Anon asked. 'You are a creature of the dark, this tomb should hold no terror for you.' 

'It`s... unnatural.' She replied in fear. 'Do you remember? I`m... I`m remembering things that were gone from me! I`m remembering what I was!' 

'Calm yourself.' Anon replied, as the pair approached what looked like an altar stood before an enormous vertical sarcophagus. 'It is as I thought.' He continued. 'They have enough energy to animate the legion of necrons, but they have not yet amassed the requirements needed to wake the lord himself from his slumber. His dreams are what is affecting us.' 

'What do you mean?' Lakhi asked, struggling to stay standing.

'He derives his power from memory, the same ability used by his deity.' Anon explained. 'He can cause you to forget, to remember, or to recall things that never even happened to you. Do not be afraid. Whatever it shows you is not your true past.' 

'But it is.' Lakhi said, sounding terrified. 'I know that it is! I remember every second, I remember dying, being sucked into the warp and consumed!' She was hysterical. Anon turned around just as Lakhi finally lost the last of her sanity.

'I REMEMBER DYING, AND YOU WERE RIGHT THERE, ADAM, YOU WERE RIGHT THERE!' 

Anon was unfazed. 'Yes I was.' He replied simply. 'But unlike you, I didn`t fight the darkness. I embraced it. This god of memories has no power over me, because I never forgot a thing... Vivian.'

"GAAAAAHHH!!!' Lakhi screamed, the dark scales fell from her flesh little by little, her claws dulled into weak pink flesh, her wings shrivelled and disappeared, and her form regressed into the human she had once been...

'What happened to you?!' Vivian sobbed, sinking to her knees and staring with a tearful expression at what had once been a dear friend. She sat weeping, naked and shivering, as Anon approached steadily.

'I saw the truth, that`s what hapened!' Anon roared. 'You could have been like this, you could have slain the gods with me, but like all your pig-headed human kind, you would rather have died than share in this power?!' 

Anon siezed Vivian by the throat, lifting her high. 

'Now.' He growled malevolently. 'You will pay the price... Again.' 

With barely a gesture, Vivian exploded, showering the area with splattered gore and bone fragments. 

'Finally!' Anon cursed, all distractions at last removed. 'The blade is mine.' He approached the altar, and beheld an ancient sword that helt the power to destroy a c`tan. Of course, once anon was done modifying it, it would work just as well on any warp formed entity as well. Noticing a small detail inlaid on the pommell, Anon leaned in closer. 

He was grateful for the knowledge that flowed through the warp, enabling him to read the necrontyr script...

_Even the gods must inevitably answer to Fate._

'Truer words were never spoken!' Anon laughed, and wrenched the sword from its resting place. Behind him, the imprisoned Necron Lord screamed...


--- --- --- 

Those fighting Necrons: Your fight continues for several minutes as you and your opponent seem evenly matched (ish). After a short while, a strong metallic screech resounds the battlefield, and all necrons across the battlefield pause momentarily, before beginning to phase out and disappear. The fight is about to end, I leave it up to you whether you defeat your foe before he phases out, or whether he escapes you.

Those fighting the furies: For some reason, the furies Bragi and Nikar seem to be somewhat distracted following the scream of the necron lord below. Do you take advantage of this distraction, or does curiosity get the better of you? In any case, the confusion does not last long and they will resume their attack within seconds. Likewise, I`ll make it your call whether you slay your foe, consume his essence or if he escapes.

Vetis: With the necron`s attacks receding, the furies have begun to attack the Greater Daemons once again. With the need to protect your fellow daemons not yet passed, the Greater Daemons are only able to give a small effort to defending themselves. With your abilities having matured, and drawing power from within the tetragon, defeating the dozens of furies assailing each Greater Daemon will not be too difficult. The only question is who do you help first? The order in which you help the four Greater Daemons will affect the next update.

Krankheit: You`ve been skirting the outer edges of the battlefield, and have noticed a group of battle sisters attempting to retreat in the confusion. They haven`t noticed you yet, so you can ambush them. Whether you slay them or simply infect them discreetly is up to you. For the purposes of the updates you missed, assume that you received Unholy Strength and Noxious Touch. Also take into consideration that your cohort has been diminished over the span of the battles.


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera was down, the Necron looming over her. Suddenly overcome by a sense of lust, Lacessera leapt onto the Flayed One. The feeling of flesh rubbing tight against her skin only heightened Lacessera's pleasure, and she brought the Necron to the ground, and began thrusting madly. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the body of the Necron, moving up and down its back repeatedly, whilst she pressed her waist firmly against that of the Necron. Her legs also intertwined themselves around the Necron, and Lacessera was completely attached to the Necron.

Unknowingly, Lacessera had also made herself immune to attack. The Necron, apart from being unable to see through Lacessera's kissing face and breasts, could not reach backwards with its talons; and could not slash at Lacessera's soft flesh. So, in an attempt to shake her off, it began moving violently forwards and back. Lacessera, however, took this as a sign of amoral lust, and began thrusting even faster, in time wit the Necron. This made the Necron in turn shake faster, to throw Lacessera off.

To passing battle-Sisters, what they saw scarred them forever. A daemonette and a Necron, plastered to each other, thrusting madly, grunting and moaning, in total ecstasy. Lacessera unleashed her Breath of Chaos, covering the Necron in melting fumes, whilst furthering her own passion. Suddenly, Lacessera heard an ear-splitting scream, and answered it with her own, groaning, sexual cry. The Necron suddenly gained a panicked look in its eyes, as Lacessera moved faster and faster, pushing her waist into the Necron stronger and stronger. She cried more and more, thrusting and groaning faster and faster....

Suddenly, the Necron phased out. It was an experience like Lacessera had never felt before, unlimited energy passing straight through her, brushing down her breasts and straight through her groin. The green energy soon dissipated, leaving Lacessera in a cloud of musky pink scent. She writhed on the floor, before finding the corpse of a Sister, and pleasuring herself upon that instead. Still, it was as nothing compared to the sexual excess she had experienced with the Necron, so she vowed to hunt it down, and complete what she had started.

Lacessera was oblivious to what was happening, and simply continued to lie amongst the corpses, completely naked, moaning with delight, exuding an intoxicating gas, and feeling her own body in infinite orgasmic pleasure.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

The necron strode forward once more, Warscythe spinning in its skeletal hands. Gong'Alt roared as his Hellblade ignited, and he charged at the foe, swinging low at the legs. The enemy performed an elegant backflip and rose his weapon towards the daemon. Gong'Alt screamed again and charged, Hellblade swinging wide. The necron ducked the slash and rose up with its Warscythe, nearly carving Gong'Alt in half, had he not leapt back. The Lord now stood still for a moment, which had allowed Gong'Alt to lunge back and deliver a fatal blow. The warrior-lord dodged the blow, but its arm slid off from the body, and the Warscythe fell with it.

The enemy showed no sign of pain, and launched itself forward, grabbing Gong'Alt by the neck. For a moment, he felt helpless, but that quickly came to pass when he pressed his foot against the necrons metal face and pushed, sending the enemy tumbling. Screaming with savage ferocity, he charged foward, ready to cleave the head clean off the torso. But he halted. _Why?_ It rose to its knees, head held high, ready to receive its fate. He stopped and looked at the lord, as it rose its head to him. Its remaining hand clutched its Warscythe and brought it up to its neck. _This is not life. This is living-death._ With a quick motion, it severed the head from the body and collapsed to the floor, before slowly fading away.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

Carnage could not even begin to describe the events that unfolded on this unknown battlefield, Sisters, Daemons, Furies and Necrons clashed amongst the blackened sands and under the darkness of the sky. This single battle could prove to the determining factor of whether an entire world lives, or dies. Vetis was only but a simple spawn but he been thrown like a pawn into Anon’s games, the foul warp creature had now played his hand and stolen from the gods what he promised. But Vetis still had a say, he would end this now with Wrydcaller and the other daemons, if Anon really thought that they would just sit down and succumbed to his treachery then he is a bigger fool then Vetis had first thought. 

His power was immense; the tetragon fueling his every move with the warp energies of Tzeentch. Vetis was angry, angry at the furies for their insolence, angry at Anon for playing him and most of all angry at himself for letting himself become a part of the creatures foul games. Yet despite it all Vetis swallowed his pride and beat down his rage, he had lost the battle but the war was not over. 

The tetragon was his only hope, without it they will all be enviably destroyed in the clash he would have to ensure its survival, and then when the dust has finally settled he will have confront Anon and make him pay for meddling in the affairs of the master. 

Lighting arched from his fingertips and his Necron assailants were heated into nothing but pools of molten slag at his feet. A dozen nearby furies drawn to the light of his attacks swooped down from the skies, forcing Vetis to leap aside and take refuge in a rocky crevice. The putrid creatures were rapidly becoming more and more troublesome as the number of combatants on the ground that they could attack was quickly diminishing. Even now they persisted in molesting the greater daemons, the thought of such lowly beings bringing low one of the gods finest was sickening. Yet they had managed to draw close enough to take blood from the four, who in their vulnerable state could not effectively hold off the tide of winged vermin that invaded their space.
Vetis would have to come to their aid, but he was only a single daemon and the futile remains of his cohort had been destroyed in the ensuing battle. He would have to it one by one, scowling under his breath he knew that time was not on his side. Wrydcaller was the most obvious choice, he was after all the only daemon here that was truly worth anything, besides himself of course. With that he decided that he would have to debate around the rest later, there was no guarantee that he would even get out of saving Wrydcaller alive. 

Clambering up the rocks he looked out on the battlefield, it was a high vantage point and from here he could make out the forms of all four of the greater Daemons, fate and the gods had truly smiled upon him today, it would not take long to reach one but those few precise moments in-between may prove fatal for one of the four, but it was best to not look a gift horse in the mouth, as the humans would say. 

Wrydcaller was still the first and Vetis worked franticly to force his way through swarm after swarm of furies as he scuttled over the rocks to his fellow servant. Vetis was able to make quick work of the furies that assailed Wyrdcaller and his lighting erupted into the skies. Seeing the fate of their brethren many of the furies that had intended to attack Wyrdcaller panicked at the lighting now clipping their wings and quickly turned to flee with their tales in-between their legs.

Wrydcaller would be safe for now, Vetis didn’t bother to try and talk to him and instead immediately made off in the direction of the other four daemons. Not quite decided on who would save next, but not in the mood to wait around and find out. 

Next he found the Khorne daemon, enraged but still fighting. It occurred to Vetis that the daemon would not appreciate his help, but then again nor did he partially enjoy giving it. Turning the furies that bore down of the Khorne daemon into charred and brittle bodies he decided it best to leave before the greater daemon directs its anger upon him for taking its potential slaughter. 
The next choice was simple Nurgle was an insult to Vetis’s very existence and would have to be helped last, even now his hatred for the god of decay burned nearly as bright as his anger against Anon. The Slaanesh daemon, who he knew as the keeper of secrets was in no better condition than the Khorne daemon and he shifted the tide of battle as he had done for the other daemons with his cracking energies. 

Nurgle was last, the horribly boated form the gods representation was so ugly it forced Vetis to look way as he sent his lighting downwards to destroy the furies. 

With all of the Daemons now fully focused on the tetragon, Vetis could turn his attentions to the furies above, the servants of Anon. They would have to suffice for now, he could only hope that Anon will show himself, so that he might destroy him in person.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

Tha'Aktos was in a ruthless battle with the fury Nikar. Nikar was very agile, using its wings to dart in and away from Tha'Aktos' attacks, darting away from his blows before he could finish the foe. It's hideous features glared at him, threatening him menacingly as he descended again to attack the khorne daemon.

Darting under the swing of Tha'Aktos, Nikar kicked him in the back of his knee, sending him down to the floor. Before Nikar could capitalise, Tha'Aktos spun round with his second blade, scoring a mark across its foul chest. 

"DIE! REJECT!" Tha'Aktos screamed at it in a blood curdling shout of hate, how dare this _thing_ defy Khornes will? He lunged at it, the flurry of attacks too quick to allow Nikar to fly away. He could not score a critical hit the thing, but his blades managed to slice a few parts of skin; nothing serious. 

Nikar managed to parry an attack and swept out Tha'Aktos' feet, sending him down hard in to the floor and one of his hellblades fell away from his grasp. Nikar was suddenly upon him, pummeling its fists into Tha'Aktos' face. He felt parts of his face cave under the pressure. Using his well-earned gifts from Khorne, he used all his might to reverse Nikar's hold of him, grabbing the fury by its throat. He held the thing down with his spare arm and legs, the fury could not overcome Tha'Aktos' sudden burst of strength. 

Bringing his remaining hellblade to bare, he slowly pushed the blade between the tissue connecting its wings to its back. His tongue flicked out in pleasure at the furies screams, as eventually the warp-power flowing through the weapon cut straight through the flesh in a spurt of blood. He punched the thing in its face, before kicking it across the floor. 

Nikar's glare had turned from fury into a mixture of pain and fear. Tha'Aktos stared over him, suddenly slicing straight through Nikar's legs. He revelled in the pain and the fear emanating from the creature.

"Foolish weakling. You think you could defeat one such as I? Now you pay for such a mistake." With a gutteral roar, he rammed his blade through the things head, covering himself in viscera and gore. It twitched temporarily, before ceasing. Satisfied with the good fight, he walked over to his other blade, before rubbing hsi slain foes blood all over his body in victory.


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthoseducked a swipe from the wraith, he loosed a bolt of tzeentchat the wraith who narrowly avoided the attack. The horror gritted his teeth as a gauss shot flew passed his head, he looked at the ground and saw a dead sister still holding a chainsword. Korthose snatched it up and parried a swipe from the wraith, it's claw burned through the sword but it was of no matter. As the necron recoiled Korthose loosed a bolt of tzeentch that flew through the necrons chest and sliced some very important wires and sockets. The gauss fire withered and died on the necrons claws. Korthose let himself show a brief smile before grabbing a furie mid flight, it struggled but did not stop.

Korthose landed on the ground with a loud thump. He was a good distance away from the wraith who was slithering his way, Korthise began his barrage. The majority of shots just glanced off the armour but some got into important bits and began melting down the material of it's body. A sister wielding a chainsword leapt at him, the blade was so badly aimed that it did no damage but the sister fell on top of him knocking him over, she wailed with agony as she fell onto her own chainsword, it sliced through her chest and splattered her guts on the horror and the ground. Korthose grunted as he heaved the sisters corpse off him. He was met by a backhand of claws.

He was once again on the ground, the wraith struck where his head had been only seconds ago, "WHY DON'T YOU JUST DIE?" moaned Korthose. He shot another bolt of tzeentch that took the top left part of his head off, it still seemed functional but some memories would be damaged. The wraith stabbed Korthose in the arm, he screamed in agony. His other arm reached up and scrambled some circuits in it's body. The necron suddenly looked up, a metallic screech echoed around the battlefield, the necrons began to phase out, the wraith turned to finish his victim, before he got a chance Korthose shot another hole through it's chest, it dissapeared.

(OOC: I haven't killed him farseer, just severly injured)

Korthise stood, he clutched his bleeding arm and limped towards the greater daemons, that Anon was going to pay for his treachery.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

ooc: WarpSpawned & GODSMACKED, cover your previous update in this one. 

--- --- --- 

Anon laughed at the sarcophagus bearing the trapped necron lord. It`s scream had resounded through the entire complex and undoubtedly had echoed above ground as well. Without Lakhi, Anon would be forced to...

No... He could feel it now. Lakhi`s power, her little piece of warp energy had empowered him. If he could just... almost...

YES! With a sickening sound like bones reshaping, leathery gargoylesque wings like those of a fury sprouted from his back... Excellent, no longer would Anon be reliant on one of his furies for transport. Spreading his new wings, he flapped. 

Once...

Twice...

With a leap he leaped into the air, following the great rent in the ground upwards and returning to the battlefield he had left only a short while ago. He surveyed the scene with mixed interest from his newly acquired vantage point. The necrons had gone, and there were far fewer furies than when he had left. It seemed his daemonic allies were more capable than he thought. 

'FURIES, WITHDRAW!' Anon bellowed. 

As the furies scattered and fled from the empowered servants of the gods below, Anon looked down as the daemons looked up one by one.

'Enough games!' Bonecrusher bellowed. 'Let`s end this fool`s errand now!' 

The tetragon powered down with the need to protect the daemons from the necrons now past. Wyrdcaller and Bonecrusher still stood strong, but Caressela was a little worse for wear and Poxgiver had been close to death...

'Do it, Bonecrusher!' Wyrdcaller encouraged. 'Free me from servitude to him!' 

Anon laughed.

'Hehehe...' He lowered himself to the ground as Bonecrusher advanced. 'Did you ever wonder why I called on you four specifically? Why it was you and not some other servant of Khorne? Another Lord of Change, Unclean one or Secret Keeper?'

Bonecrusher froze. It was not fear, but rather a paralyzing hatred. He knew what was coming. 

A pouting look of despair came across Caressela`s normally petite face. They all knew. It had seemed strange, that Anon would so blatantly doublecross them all and expect to just walk away. It should have been obvious the moment he uttered Wyrdcaller`s true name back in the convene...

He knew them all by name... By True Name...

'Ytlayorforeyals!' Anon called. Bonecrusher fell to his knees in supplication, bellowing in fury all the while.

'Eramthginforevaew!' He called again, and Wyrdcaller similarly bowed against his will.

'Kradnirotcefni!' Poxgiver lowered himself to his hands and knees.

'Emerpusrecudes!' Anon laughed, and Caressela found herself shrinking to her knees...

'This isn`t fun anymore!' Caressela cried. 'I want to keep killing stuff!' 

Anon took to the skies again, rising slowly and glaring down at them in contempt.

'Well, my four friends.' Anon addressed the Greater Daemons. 'It was fun, but I`m afraid you and your minions have outlived your purpose. Destroy them, then destroy yourselves!'

Without even a second glance, Anon turned and flew towards the skyline, barely a dozen surviving furies in tow...

--- --- --- 

Gong`Alt and Tha`Aktos: Poweless to disobey, Bonecrusher turns and advances towards you. Your gifts will be pushed to their limits as you fight for your very existence against your superior! You will both survive as Bonecrusher is forced to divide his attention between you. You will not attack each other. If you have any cohort surviving, they will perish in this fight. Bonecrusher is only slightly diminished in strength due to Vetis` decisions, so your fight will be a tough one...

Vetis and Korthose: Wyrdcaller is furious at being forced to serve a lesser, but does not seem to care for your wellbeing. His attacks rain down relentlessly, your cohort is destroyed almost instantly and you are forced to rely on every nuance of skill just to survive. Wyrdcaller does not present any weaknesses. For the moment, you cannot fight back, your cohorts are picked off and killed one by one and all you can do is dodge and sometimes block his attacks. 

Oon`Nu and Viralestopheles: Poxgiver suffered horrendously at the hands of the furies due to Vetis` selfish decision to help his own first and his enemies last. Nonetheless, your superior is now forced to destroy you, though his efforts are less than prime. It is a tough fight, but the two of you will prevail. More specific parameters will be sent via PM.

Lacessera: You stand alone against your superior, the great mistress Caressela. She is somewhat injured due to the furies attacks and Vetis` slow efforts to rescue her. But that doesn`t stop her from trying to eviscerate you. She looks almost sad as she attacks, and you realize that the time for games has passed. You dodge and weave out of her attack range, but even injured Caressela is a fast opponent. Any cohort you have will be annihilated by her as you survive. You do not yet have an oppurtunity to counterattack.


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera watched as Anon flew out of a crack in the ground. Suddenly, he addressed the Greater Daemons. Lacessera was puzzled by his words; surely Caralessa owed Anon somehow, or perhaps was fulfilling an obligation? It was strange that she had not said to Lacessera before, as normally she would confide in her most beloved daughter. Suddenly, Anon cried out a name, and Caralessa fell to her knees. 

And then turned to attack Lacessera.

Lacessera stared in shock and awe as the majestic form of the Keeper of Secrets advanced, a little worse for wear, but stunningly beautiful nevertheless. Suddenly, and sadly, she made a sweep at Lacessera with her claws. Crying softly, the mighty daemon continued to slash and cut at Lacessera, who dodged each attack just in time. 

"Mistress, please, what have I done wrong? How can I earn your forgiveness?!" cried Lacessera, "Please, Caralessa, please, what have I done?" Caralessa didn't stop, still crying, still swiping at Lacessera's pale flesh. Lacessera ducked underneath a claw sweep, and ran underneath her mistress' legs, skidding under and scrambling to her feet on the other side.

"Please! Caralessa!" cried the poor daemonette, before changing tack, "Emerpusrecudes! Please! Stop!"


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

Furies snarled in frustration as their attempts to strike at Vetis were meet only with failure, his whole body was engulfed in purple flames and those foolish enough to press any sort of direct assault were now blowing away in the winds, having been reduced to charred black ashes. Yet their attempt to mutilate his being ceased abruptly as they turned their attentions to the sky and flew away. Puzzled yet satisfied Vetis was able to spare a moment to rest, the battle had raged for quite some time now with the mysterious Necrons disappearing back into the depths of the Earth from which they came. Which left only Furies; such pathetic spawns were a waste of Vetis’s power he longed to use his new found Favour to destroy Anon. 

Spotting Wyrdcaller coming towards him Vetis looked around for Korthose, fortunately he was nearby and Vetis moved to greet him. 

_“It would seem that Wyrdcaller seeks an audience, I hope that you, like myself have grand stories to recite about the battle today?”_

After listening to his response Vetis waited on Wyrdcaller to arrive. Suddenly Daemonic fire crashed into the rock formations around them and Vetis ducked into the nearest crevice. Was Wyrdcaller shooting at them? As if on cue another bolt of pink lighting arched down from the sky to destroy a segment of rock in front of him, Wyrdcaller was easily spotted as the one casting. 
Emerging back onto the battlefield Vetis took aim at Wyrdcaller and blasted up at his form with all the force that he could muster. His attacks were useless and bounced off Wyrdcaller, However Vetis was not so lucky and Wyrdcaller returned his aggression with fire and lighting. Sent flying by the blast Vetis was only stopped by crashing headfirst into a rather large rock. Attacking the Greater Daemon was no longer an option and he vouched to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Whatever was going on, Vetis knew that Anon would have had his hand in it.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt got up from his position, crouched over the spot where the Necron had vanished. Then, like a murderous animal, he saw Bonecrusher speeding towards him, air-borne on large leathery wings. He howled with savage ferocity, surpassed only by the great Khorne himself. Gong'Alt trembled with fear as his superior landed mere meters away from him. "Anon... Kill Anon..." the monster blurted out as he attempted to restrain himself. Gong'Alt advanced slowly, carefully, too frightened to utter a word. Then the Bloodthirster roared at him, spattering him with spittle. Their Bloodthirster's savage eyes met his - fiery oranges that seemed to seethe with fire.

Gong'Alt didn't know what to do. He couldn't attack his superior... Then a thought occured to him. Maybe its what he _wanted_. _Kill Anon_... That traitor must have taken control over Bonecrusher somehow, and ordered him to destroy his followers. Without a second thought, Gong'Alt charged his master, Hellblade alight. He was taken by surprise as the Daemon's large whip struck his legs, causing him to fall. He quickly rolled to the left, just avoiding a giant axe blade. Gong'Alt jumped to his feet and charged once more, roaring from the humiliation of being taken off guard.

His screams were drowned out by those of Bomecrusher, who had wound up for another strike with his giant axe. Gong'Alt leapt to meet the blade, and grabbed onto it, clambering clumsily onto the flat surface. The Daemon head beneath his feet snarled and bit, but was restrained within the weapon. Making use of his speed, he ran a step and leapt, landing onto Bonecrusher's muscular shoulders. Gong'Alt laughed. This is all it took!? For so long he's allowed this being to control him, when it was this simple to begin with!?

He plunged his Hellblade into the Daemon's shoulder, laughing hysterically. With a painful lurch, he twisted the Hellblade deeper into the flesh, and cleaved the arm straight off, blood spewing from the gaping wound. He howled with delight at this sudden victory. This was his moment of weakness. Bonecrusher howled twice as loud as before and pounced towards him, delivering a painful kick by a heavy hoof. Gong'Alt glanced up at the enraged daemon as it ensnared him in its pulsing, barbed whip, readying to sqeeze the blood out of him. To his horror, he saw the tendons from the lacerated arm wound shoot out and reattach, to the fallen arm. With a quick jerk, the arm flung back to its socket, the muscle and skin tissue rebuilding itself at a supernatural rate. Bonecrusher snarled in mockery and raised the daemon-faced axe, ready to deliver the final blow.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

It was as Tha'Aktos turned he saw his rival Gong'alt about to be flayed by their master. For a second he considered letting Bonecrusher erase him from this world, but realised that they stood a much greater chance fighting as one, together. "Anon has possessed the mighty Bonecrusher; Minions: attack him!"

With a fury matching that of Bonecrusher, his cohort and him charged the greater daemon. Bonecrushers axe was raised above his head, prearing for the final strike. Just before he attacked, the pain of 3 Hellblades carved into his calf, almost compeltely severing the tendon. This only subdued the daemon slightyl however, as with a casual flcik of his ankle, he crushed two of the cohort. The other bloodletter attacked again, finally carving through the tendon completely. 

With a cry of pain, Bonecrushers barbed whip released Gong'alt, ensaring the doomed bloodletter. Within seconds he squeezed the life out of him; sending him back to the warp. Only 4 of Tha'Aktos' cohort remained, each one hell bent on obeying Tha'Aktos' orders. 

Tha'Aktos felt no remorse at the sight of him minions deaths; he would see them again soon enough. Using his gifts, he darted under Bonecrusher, dodging his strong yet slow attacks from his axe; his dualhellblades lacerating flesh from Bonecrushers limbs with every stroke.

He could feel Bonecrushers anger pulsing through him, 3 more of his cohort died under one powerful crushing blow from his axe; the last of his cohort being ripped in to between his arms.

It was only Gong'alt and Tha'Aktos now; facing a one-armed, one-crippled leg daemon. Tha'Aktos leapt up the daemons arm, turning his hellblade towards Bonecrushers wings, preparing to carve...


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose emerged from the ruined immoltator holding a dead furies head. The battle was pretty much over, the daemons had taking a rough toll but all the "important" ones were still alive. He saw Vetis make his way over to him,

“It would seem that Wyrdcaller seeks an audience, I hope that you, like myself have grand stories to recite about the battle today?”

"stories of battle? These are not the kind of things I live for vetis, although I must admit that ripping humans heads from their shoulders is an amusing hobby."

Just as he finished speaking Korthose saw dwelling fire crash into a rock beside him, it was close and sent him flying a couple of metres. He rolled as he landed to minimise damage. Just then a bolt of tzeentch seared past korthoses right eye, it cought his skin and burned it to a crisp.

The horror would need to have some sort of healing soon or he was going to die, he snarled at wrydcaller and shot a few bolts at him but against the greater daemon it was useless. The attacks bounced off his force field and deflected back at him forcing him to dodge. An idea sprang into the horrors mind, he would need his fellows help though. He turned to see Vetis legging it in the opposite direction. Korthose cursed and sprang after him. "STOP VETIS, HOLD YOUR GROUND COWARD." yelled Korthose. A bolt of daemonic fire thudded into his back knocking him over and searing his flesh. He once again felt the pull of the blue horrors but fought with his might to stay in his body.

He turned over onto his back and looked up at wyrdcaller, why was he attacking him? The other thing Korthose noticed was the disappearance of anon, the lesser being would pay for his deeds. With all his might Korthose stood and sprinted in the direction of anons flight.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu was bleeding thick ichor, his Necron opponent was not much better, their battle had been a flurry of exchanged blows, gauss fired at close range into rancid organs and caustic acids eating into metal. It would have gone on for longer except that Oon'Nu's intestines chose that moment to spill and entangled his gangrenous legs. And the Necrons.
They both went down in a heap of flailing limbs, each attempting to kill the other while trying to regain footing, Oon'Nu lost most of his internal organs to the warscythe and the Immortal had one of its hands dissolved in the viscous fluids that seeped from the daemons organs.

A screech echoed across the battlefield, its suddenness causing both combatants to pause, the daemon looked at the Necron in time to receive a death-glare, which was returned as the Immortal phased out, leaving a small fizzle of energy behind that dissipated swiftly, the PlagueBearer stood and rearranged his internal organs to prevent them getting in the way again and chuckled, that could have been much worse then it had turned out.
Oon'Nu grinned and began heading back towards the Greater Daemons, he had some new disease ideas he'd like to discuss with the Great Unclean One...
He arrived in time to witness Anon's final treachery, which was just great.

He noted that Poxgiver, who was approaching with murderous intent was wounded quite badly, very vulnerable to attacks possibly because of the lack of aid by a Lesser Daemon, ordinarily he would have been affronted by this buuuuut this time it was in his favor so he would instead thank whoever made the decision. He spared a look at the Tzeentchian Great Daemon, in near-perfect health, bad luck for the Schemer's minions.
Oon'Nu glanced at Viralestopheles before moving to engage the Greater Daemon, he dodged the first blow and struck at Poxgiver's wrist, which missed but ah well, Poxgiver was still strong but slower and not at his best, not that his best was far from looking like his worst.

He would have to use maneuverability, that which he possessed, to stay out of reach, darting in to attack after Poxgiver had attempted a blow. It didn't take too long but during the fight Poxgiver managed to seize both of Oon'Nu's remaining Nurglings and crush them back into the vile sludge they had spawned from. 
Pity, he had kind of liked those two.
With a deranged laugh he launched into the attack, his gift of unholy might matching and just barely surpassing the weakened Poxgiver, his toxin-ridden sword caused wounds that even Poxgiver could feel, although the diseases had practically no effect. His aim was to cripple and stun Poxgiver under his near-relentless blows and it was working too.
A particularly powerful blow took a nick from of the Greater Daemons sword and a return swing from Poxgiver nearly bisected Oon'Nu, he did lose a couple of layers of scabs but nothing that wouldnt grow on him again.
With his sword weakened and nasty gashes opened in his already rent stomach, not too mention wounds caused by the traitor Anon's Furies, Poxgiver was on the defensive and his sword was finally broken as Oon'Nu's blade found a weakness, this was after a semi-long struggle that ended up with Oon'Nu missing a hand, a chunk of skull and a good portion chest and the associating organs.

He knew that he was not quite strong enough to completely defeat Poxgiver and pulled back from the Greater Daemon, a rasping chuckle accompanied by oozing bile.
"All _*cough*_yours...now_*wheeze*_...Viralestopheles_*hack*_"
Oon'Nu would need a few moments to regain strength, and with his weapon shattered, Poxgiver should be able to be taken down by the other Plague Bearer.


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralestopheles was ready for Bragi, standing fast, but ready to juke right Viralestopheles waited. Bragi getting impatient finally lunged forward to strike, but was distracted by a necron lord's scream. Viralestopheles met her lunge by grasping her with his large pincers, he then let loose a gout of chaos breath... instead of destroying or burning or melting the daemon, it empowered her, her head grew to enormous size... however the rest of her stayed the same. her body crushed under the weight of her overgrown head, she fell victim to gravity... unable to lift her head she was easy prey at that point. Viralestopheles sliced her head off clean with his plague sword. The head then swollen, burst like an egg sac, and what burst forth was two beasts of nurgle.... no.... one large simiese twin beast of nurgle... their bodies obviously mostly made of brain matter. dripping with sticky juices.

Triumphant Viralestopheles watched as the harpies attacked Poxgiver, killing themselves in his bile in the process. However this greatly weakened him, and when he was ordered to kill his minions, Viralestopheles rejoiced at a chance to take on the brute. However Viralestopheles knew he was formidable even in his weakened state, plus Oon'Nu was closer. Viralestopheles waited till Oon'Nu engaged and was used up before engaging himself. He watched as Oon'Nu sundered Poxgiver's weapon, this is when he knew to move. 

Viralestopheles sent in his cohorts next, his remaining 4 beasts of Nurgle, and his new simiese twin. He approached cautiously and watched and he beat each one slowly to death, finally tearing the simese twin in half... Viralestopheles could tell Poxgiver was spent, and exhausted... and that Nurgle's grace had left him... he knew this because of the whispers of Nurgle in Viralestopheles's head, "Kill the unworthy my child". 

Viralestopheles rushing like a spider up the girth of Poxgiver's back, stabbed, into the back of the neck of Poxgiver with his large pincer claws, and began chewing his way into the body, like a borer beetle. Poxgiver reached back to try to brush away his attacker, but Viralestopheles sliced off Poxgiver's hand with his imbued Plague sword. Reeling in pain, Poxgiver lunged forward, and Viralestopheles dug in deeper, and began consuming the Much larger opponent. Poxgiver could sense his end and was fading... in a last ditched effort he threw himself on his back, burying Viralestopheles under his girth before letting out his death rattle.... 

Moments went by in silence ... then in the darkness Nurgle reached out to his new chosen... Poxgiver's body rotted away in mere seconds.. splitting open and bile flowing out with green power.... to reveal a new great unclean one..... VIRALESTOPHELES THE GREAT UNCLEAN ONE!!! Huge and foreboding... his back had taken on the form of a snail, in order to carry his great girth, as his tentacles could no longer carry his weight, but the tentacles had multiplied and grown longer... and at the tip of each one now rested a stinger with a different toxin, poison, pox, or disease in each one. His Plague sword was imbued with power and glowed a bright purple green. and his anus had be come distended and yawned open as a large gaping whole, with teeth and puss filled eyes inside.

The slime trail left behind by Viralestopheles spawned nurglings and they dance in joy around the great unclean one. As he begins the pursuit of Anon. He was betrayed and anon will know the price.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Anon flew steadily towards the Imperial city on the horizon. It would be imperative that he make it to his cult`s lair before any more unfortunate distractions could present themselves. The loss of his prime furies would result in a few revisions to his plan later on, but ultimately even they were replaceable. Especially since he no longer needed to cling to one`s back to fly.

The darkening sky had since blocked out all semblance of sunlight, only the unholy fires of the battlefield behind and the lights of the city before him offered any real illumination. After leaving his former allies to die, he would need to be very careful when next he traversed the warp. 

The Lost Blade of the Forgotten God was powerful, but it was not quite ready for the task Anon had in mind. Not yet at least. 

- - - 

Bonecrusher`s roars of hatred and rage had largely subsided, to be replaced by growling and snarls of pain. Gong`Alt and Tha`Aktos were apparently more powerful than Anon had guessed, and Bonecrusher himself had seemingly lost the will to fight. It was as though he had given up and resigned to his fate, seemingly able to content himself on the fact that his favoured servants would enact his final vengeance. 

‘End that little traitor...’ He muttered at last, his rage finally spent.

- - - 

Caressela was almost in tears, but could not deny that on some level, she was enjoying this. Against all commonsense, she had been forced to slay her own little sister, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not find guilt. Her very nature forced her to enjoy the terrible deed that had been commanded of her. 

‘I`m so sorry little sis.’ She called following a deadly swipe of her sword. ‘I`m really, really sorry.’ It was impossible to miss the utter lack of conviction behind those words as her attacks continued, all the while as she thought of how best to destroy her favourite servant. 

- - - 

Wyrdcaller had no such compunctions as regret, he would destroy his minions, he would destroy the other survivors, then he would hunt down and destroy Anon for his betrayal. In the way of his kind of course, Anon`s fate was about to be pulled in a vastly different direction to what the little Shadow wanted, Wyrdcaller would make damn sure of it! 

One thing worried the Lord of Change. Korthose and Vetis were quite resilient, far more so than was right for a mere pair of Horrors. It was almost as if they were...

--- --- --- 

Gong`Alt:: As Bonecrusher falls to his knees, you sieze your chance, leaping forward to strike a blow against your former master. He makes a feeble attempt to defend, but you bypass his block easily and tear one of the horns from his skull, before blowing upon it like a battle trumpet and roaring loudly in triumph. The rest of your update will be sent via PM.

Tha`Aktos: Following Gong`Alt`s attack, you see your own chance for glory, and move in to make your attack. I`ll send the rest via PM.

Lacessera: Caressela is gradually losing her edge as her attacks continue, almost as if her strength is fading. Now is your chance to fight back! Rest will be sent via PM.

Korthose and Vetis: For reasons you can only guess at, Wyrdcaller`s attacks seem to miss you or else only inflict superficial damage. Perhaps Tzeentch has truly blessed you? In any case, a blessing alone will not save you. You will need to think of a more certain way to save yourselves. The two of you need to co-ordinate, develop a strategy to strike from multiple angles and take Wyrdcaller off guard. Convene with each other via PM or recruitment thread. 

Viralestopheles: As you travel, you may encounter dregs of abandoned furies, semi functioning necrons or even dazed imperial warriors. Don`t let anything slow you from the task at hand. Head towards the city. Sorry, not a real lot to do until a few others catch up.

Oon`Nu: Following your own transformation, you can either follow your fellow nurglite in pursuit of Anon, or choose to aid your Tzeentchian "allies." Follow Godsmacked`s parameters if you wish, or co-ordinate with Warsmith and Samu3 to attack Wyrdcaller. 

ooc: We`re almost there guys, keep it up!


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera continued to dodge and weave out of incoming blows. She knew not what drove Caralessa to attack her, but still, tears fell freely from both of their daemonic eyes. Black whispering clouded Lacessera's mind, and she felt as though nothing would stop the Keeper of Secrets from devouring her. Each swipe seemed to come closer, and closer, and closer...

_She's weaker than you..._

Lacessera tingled with ecstatic joy at the sound. The whispering in her head had focused, and now Lacessera realised that the Prince spoke to her. In admiration, Lacessera squealed with joy at the very timbre of the god's voice. Caralessa's eyes grew wider, and panic gripped the greater daemon; she knew what was happening. She tried to attack faster, but her blows only became slower, and slower...

_You were always my favourite. My little Lacessera..._

Lacessera cried with joy, leaping clean over the rapidly diminishing form of Caralessa, and landing neatly behind her. Stabbing inwards, Lacessera tore one of the daemon's claws clean off; it landed with a dull thud, producing a silent scream from Caralessa, and a reverberating, lustful moan from Lacessera.

_Yes...yes... kill her, my pet. Ascend. You are my favourite now. My Keeper of Secrets._

Unable to contain her joy, Lacessera leapt atop the fading form of Caralessa. Bringing her head next to that of the dying daemon, Lacessera whispered, giggling:

"Don't worry. I'll make it quick."

With one, clean stroke from her bladed limbs, the head of the daemon fell to the floor. Lacessera backed away, wondering what would happen next. She felt nothing. Standing for a few seconds, Lacessera began to feel annoyed. But then, she heard it again:

_Oh, you're perfect. My spoilt little child. Now, *ASCEND*!_

Suddenly, Lacessera fell to the floor, screaming with pure pleasure. Her body was cocooned in a pulsating purple sphere of light, the Orb of Pleasure; what went on inside was too obscene to be described, but the sounds which emanated within caused the dying Sisters within earshot to strip themselves down, and begin thrusting at each other madly, until they died, the high-pitch moans and screams emanating from the Orb driving them insane with lust. Suddenly, the Orb was swept away, like pink smoke; revealing the form of the Keeper of Secrets within.

Lacessera's body had grown, grown even larger than Caralessa was. Her flesh was a pale purple, and pulsating with a sensuous glow. She now had four arms; two upper ones, ending in mighty black claws, and two lower; still with hands, so she could perform all manner of obscenity on her victims. Her head remained much the same; only larger, and with a great, gold stone set into her forehead. Scented, musky aromas were exuded by her sensual flesh, sending any mortal near her giddy. Giving out an almighty birthing roar, at last Lacessera had ascended. The Keeper of Secrets was born.

Turning and surveying the battlefield, Lacessera saw that a new Great Unclean One was making its slow and slimy way towards the city where Anon had fled. The memory of the filthy double-dealing daemon aroused Lacessera; she _would_ make him want her, and she _would_ drive him mad with lust. She was determined.

In a few great leaps, Lacessera had sidled up to the snail-like form of the Nurgle Greater Daemon. Giggling slightly at its odd-looking trail of pus, Lacessera asked it;

"So, who are you? I am Lacessera; my old mistress, Caralessa, is now dead," Lacessera giggled again, "Who are you? I don't recognise your hulking, pulsating lump of flesh." Lacessera laughed again, a sound which was deemed to have sounded sweet and intoxicating to some, and like death itself to others. Truly, she was mighty now.

_Yes, my pet...kill Anon, make him feel pain. As much pain as you want._


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Bonecrusher had regained himself, and strode forward, now no longer trying to resist Anon's power. "I'LL RIP YOUR HEADS OFF, WEAKLINGS!" He pounced high in the air, decending upon the duo with his axe raised. Gong'Alt dived to the side. "RAAAAAAAARGH!" he roared with rage. Taking a leap forward, Gong'Alt cleaved his flaring Hellblade into Bonecrisher's side, carving a deep wound into his muscle tissue. He flung his weight around, the axe soaring by Gong'Alt's head. He ducked, and ran foward, slicing Bonecrusher's groin and finishing upward. The monster howled with pain and rage as he lowered himself, feebly attempting to hit Gong'Alt with his fist. Seizing his chance of victory, Gong'Alt put a foot onto his closed fist and lifted off, bringing the flaming Hellblade down in a wide arc. It grazed his head, causing very little damage. Then, he finished with a final swipe and cleaved off his master's horn, catching it in midfall.

Gong'Alt slung his master's horn over his back, affixed to a brass chain and howled again, in triumph. He covered his shame of having to be saved by his nemesis with his roaring.

Then, the ground began to shake and crumble as blood pooled out of the emerging cracks. Within seconds the blood had managed to cover many meter of ground, when all of a sudden a giant, daemonic monster burst from the ground, roaring with savageness even Gong'Alt didn't have. Without even a pause, it charged Gong'Alt, metallic jaws opened wide and giant horn positioned fro. This was his chance - his chance to become more powerful than any Bloodletter can ever hope to become! He would much rather die than leave this opportunity to rot. Carefully positioning his legs, Gong'Alt leapt high in the air, and landed upon the Juggernaut's back.

Roaring savagely, the Juggernaut jumped and swerved, violently snapping at Gong'Alt. Adding his anger to his will to tame this creature, Gong'Alt thrust his forearm into it's head. The beast continued to roar, violently throwing itself around. Then, a voice like red thunder boomed into his mind, and his mouth shouted the words aloud OBEY ME! The Juggernaut halted suddenly, a terrified look in its glowering red eyes. Then, following the event, Gong'Alt's horns grew larger and twisted, and he noticed his muscles slightly ripple, his black spots receded into the red of his body. He knew what this meant. The all powerful Khorne himself had promoted Gong'Alt to rank of Herald. He roared loudly with glee, his Juggernaut rearing up. He raised his Hellblade high in the air, the fire flaring large along the edges.

He whispered into the Juggernaut's ear, "I am Gong'Alt, and you are my servant. If you disobey me, almighty Khorne will have you punished, do you understand?" The Juggernaut moved its golden head, suggesting it understood. Despite the fact that this creature looked like a savage metal animal, it is still inhabited by a Chaos-worshipper's soul, and therefore about as intelligent as Gong'Alt himself. "I shall name you Kragh'Laa, but for short, I'll call you Bunny."


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

Vetis could only ponder what fate had befallen Korthose, the fellow Daemon had called out to him as he had ran from his greater counter-part. 

“Stop Vetis, Hold your ground coward!”

He had screamed, it was however to no avail and his demand had been completely ignored. He was most likely dead by now, or at least dying both were the same to Vetis. Peering out from his position amongst the Sister’s of Battle’s ruined lines he could just spot a faint flicker of bright pink lightning in the distance. Obviously something was still going on, who was Wyrdcaller fighting now and would he come for him next? It was not a pleasant thought, to know that he would have to face off against his far more powerful superior. Vetis would have to use everything at his disposable to even stand a remote chance against the winged being, sitting back down Vetis brought up one of his left hands and rubbed the wound on his back. Wyrdcaller would owe him for that, coming to a decision Vetis stumbled out of the trench and headed towards the fighting. Wrydcaller would come for him; he might as well treat himself to the element of surprise.

Unfortunately the task proved to be considerably more difficult than he had first anticipated. Even now Wrydcaller pressed his attack; Vetis was squatting behind the merger amount of cover that some rock formation was providing. In a desperate attempt to slow the greater daemon down he was throwing many of the larger boulders over his head in Wrydcaller’s general direction. Korthose was no-were to be seen, Wrydcaller must have been very thorough if he hadn’t even left a body. Vaulting over his cover Vetis ran out to confront his assailant once more, each time he would fire before taking cover quickly. It was wearing the greater daemon down but Vetis suspected that he would have to clash toe to toe soon at the rate that they were closing in on each other. 

_“Korthose, if your still out there then get over here!”_


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## warsmith7752 (Sep 12, 2009)

Korthose weaved under a ball of daemonic flames, thanks to the coward Vetis's actions he was now facing Wyrdcaller alone. So far he had made no progress, Wyrdcaller had continuously launched attacks at the horror forcing him to run, hide or act like a gymnast and avoid the attacks. Korthose's anger at vetis had made him stay and choose the latter option but he was tiring fast.

He heard a whoosh, he promptly stepped to the right just as a bolt of tzeentch slammed into the ground three feet from him. Korthose raised what a horror considers to be his eyebrow and said to himself "what?" Before that Wyrdcallers attacks had been accurate ever since he met the lord of change. But now attacks were going wide a lot of the time.

Korthose however did not doubt the lord of change's intelligence, he was sure that the greater daemon would find a way around it. And of course he did just that, Wyrdcaller shot a barrage of firebolts soaring into the air at roughly 75 degrees so that when they were beaten by gravity they would pelt the area Korthose was currently stood in. "Shit!" Korthose broke into a sprint into the same direction Vetis ran in, Korthose wasn't going to kid himself, there was no way he was going to be able to defeat the lord of change alone.

"KORTHOSE IF YOU'RE OUT THERE, GET OVER HERE"

The voice belonged to Vetis, Korthose allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction before grabbing up a sheet of scrap metal and turned so nothing that would be thrown by the blasts hit his flesh. The bits of stone, flesh and metal pelted the scrap metal like rain of glass. There was still considerable force that threw the horror onto his back. He groaned as he stood up, the battle was finally taking it's toll on him. He limped towards the other Horror, "I am here vetis, hurry up and help me. You're actions have exposed me to damage I should not have taken"


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## G0DSMACKED (Feb 12, 2010)

Viralestopheles continued on, determined no to let Anon escape his punishment. As The Great Unclean on proceeded he killed the stragglers at will, and began their process of converting to nurgle warriors, and beasts. 

Soon Lacessera bounded up beside Viralestopheles and spoke to him. Viralestopheles's only answer was to lick Lacessera with a spare tentacle from time to time.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

ooc: Okay, anyone who`s missed can cover themselves in the next post. I`ll keep this one brief before the big finale. 

--- --- --- 

Anon waited at the cult`s rally point. He had been there for about ten minutes and awaited a response from some of the cult members. 

_This is taking too long._ He thought to himself. A worrying doubt began to set in, why were the cultists taking so long to arrive? He looked back the way he came in a moment of paranoia. 

_No..._ He thought. _It couldn`t be. _ Putting the thought from his mind, he began to search the area. They were supposed to meet him here, everything had gone to plan, the signal had been sent so what cause was there for the delay? 

Rounding a corner, the answer became clear. A lone necron stood. Carrying a scythe and wearing a long black robe not unlike his own, it stood over the eviscerated corpse of one of his cultists. 

It turned to face him. Then it laughed before vanishing. 

'NOOO!!!' Anon screamed. With his cultists dead, he was basically trapped! He could not hope to traverse the warp alone with no protection! The rituals could not be performed without the cult`s aid! 

Something niggled at the edge of his senses. 

He turned. It was hazy and indistinct on the darkened horizon, but they were definitely there... It made no sense to him, how could they possibly have survived?! 

They were coming. Anon sank to his knees. The invisible necron`s laughter echoed all around him.

_How?_ He asked silently. _How long were you following me?_


--- --- --- 

Tha`Aktos and Oon`Nu: You have fallen behind. Finish your previous updates before continuing with the parameters below in the same post.

Vetis and Korthose: Wyrdcaller`s power has finally waned. It is time to make your move. More updates will be sent via PM

Everyone else: As you approach the city, The darkness at your feet begins to react. Anon has discovered your survival and is attempting to slow you down. You will be attacked by tendrils of darkness sprouting from the ground, as well as shadowy echoes and memories of past foes you have encountered. Essentially, you can create your own foes at this point. Daemons live a long time and you will have faced many enemies in your time. Anon is making your memories real again to try and slow you down, but you must punch through and reach the city where you will come face to face with Anon himself. 

All: Where applicable, feel free to help each other out.


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## Ultra111 (Jul 9, 2009)

As Bonecrushers essence faded back in to the warp, Tha'Aktos did not feel triumph. Yes, he had managed to bring down a mighty blood thirster, even if it was alongside Gong'alt, but that rat Anon was escaping with every passing second. He longed for that things death, and would not rest until his soul was his.

He bent down to pick up Bonecrushers fallen axe. He suddenly began to feel stronger, like Bonecrusher's might was seeping in to his warp-infested veins. His muscles burned with the fury of a mindless god, his anger manifesting tenfold. He suddenly felt his feet lift off the ground; his arms rose on their on accord towards the sky as Tha'Aktos rose above the battlefield; the corpses of the false Emperors minions scattered carelessly across the blood soaked ground. 

Power surged through him. Then he felt pain. Unimaginable pain. He felt his muscles rip and tear, his face expand and his head sprout horns. His skin was replaced by skin as hard as ceramite, thicker than even the hide of a juddernaught. 

Suddenly, he crushed in to the ground; his former life-blood eviscerated from his body. What emerged was something he was not expecting.

He was now Tha'Aktos, Bloodthirster of Khorne.

(ooc - Let me know what I should say in next post as I _think_ I've caught up now?


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt rode Bunny down the street, a vicious snarl on his red face. How could Anon do this to them? How could he betray all four Gods of Chaos and escape unharmed? Nonsense. The Gods made them Heralds, a testament to their capabilities. Now, they had one final mission to prove the Gods their worth. They had to stop Anon.

Darkness flowed around him like a thick mist. Bunny made a sound of uneasyness, and Gong'Alt felt it too. The mist begun to rise up in wisps, until some of it actually began to form shapes. He recognized them at once. They had long, elongated heads, broad bodies, and two large serrated swords. They took the form of Tha'Aktos, Gong'Alt's nemesis. The mist settled around their forms, as the energy was turned solid. The mist shot a snarl in his direction, and charged. Bunny twirled around, smashing her long horn into Tha'Aktos' shadowy form. The creature tumbled back, and disappeared with a *poof*. The mist hung limp in the air before floating somewhere else to reform.

Gong'Alt's hellblade ignited with a large, bright flame, brought upon by his rage. Screaming, he willed Bunny forward, swinging his large blade at the charging shadows. They disappeared at the slightest wound, just to reform themselves once more. Bunny was doing considerably little, with her short reach.

Gong'Alt smiled savagely, as he struck his blade through the misty forms of Tha'Aktos. He was so blinded by delight and rage, that he failed to notice the 
increasing number of foes, and their resilience. Minutes had gone by, and there were at least fifty of them, charging savagely into Gong'Alt's reach. His hellblade jabbed at the nearest form, and to his surprise, it was stuck. Forcing his strength, he yanked it free, and finished it off with a swing. He can't kill them. "Go! Go!" he hissed, still swinging his fiery blade. Bunny kicked off and ran, batting aside oncoming attackers with her long horn, and solid metal head.

They were pouring in now, leaping from broken windows of tall buildings, and emerging from shadowy alleys. "Stop fighting me, daemon! _I_ am Khorne's chosen! The Blood God favors _me_! You cannot defeat me using Tha'Aktos, a pitiful whelp, not even fit to feed the Flesh Hounds!" he screamed, hoping Anon would hear. Then, the figures before him froze and dissolved, returning the black mist that they once were.


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## Samu3 (Sep 19, 2010)

*Vetis*

_“I am here Vetis! Hurry up and help me, your actions have exposed me to damage I should not have taken!”_

Sparing a moment to shift his gaze to Korthose, Vetis could see that his fellow Horror was hiding behind a rather large segment of what must have formally been a vehicle of the Sisters of Battle. Somehow he had pried it from the wreckage, either way it did not appear to be doing him much good as shot after shot impacted onto its metal hind and sent Korthose spiraling down to the dirt below. 

“You know full well that is not my job to oversee your own personal safety, now I’m going to make another push so use the time that I buy to find some real cover and start shooting back.”

Rock, sand and dust alike were made airborne as Vetis vaulted over his rapidly diminishing cover only to be pelted with a tremendous torrent of fire. Trying desperately to shield his eyes from the destruction that revenged the earth all around him Vetis pushed onwards. Wrydcaller was getting desperate to, his shots were wide and his power faded with every waking moment. It was evident that he wanted to finish this now, the sheer amount of fire that he was pouring into the pair below told Vetis that much. 

A brief Exchange of fire was all that would be left of his former master, his shots were less frequent and their strength was laughable. Backhanding a few of the projectiles away from his position Vetis could not help but ponder this strange turn of events. Wrydcaller was a greater daemon of the almighty Tzeentch, how is that he could become so pitiful in the face of his own servants? Suddenly, Vetis finally felt a sense of understanding settle over his conscience, and he knew that it was time to finish his former mentor, once and for all.

Drawing from all the power that was available to him Vetis retaliated, rippling the air with a dozen Bolts of Tzeentch. Despite Wrydcallers attempts to shield himself with his own staff, the shots tore his being apart, scything through his winged form and sending it tumbling back down to earth. 

_Very Good_

Echoed a voice within his mind, slightly puzzled Vetis was about to ask its name but it continued without giving him the opportunity.

_You have fulfilled my wishes, I am pleased with you Vetis. You have to give yourself more credit, while your former master may have once been strong you must acknowledge that all things must change. Is this not the nature of our very existence? Now rise my servant, take what I have said and rise to your post! For you are now one of my most exalted._
_The Herald of Change_

Lightning cackled in the skies above and the Disk of Tzeentch materialized below his feet.
Anon was next.


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

As Lacessera skipped down towards the fleeing Anon, laughing softly as she got closer to where he had escaped. Her laughter was a rippling peal, exciting and enthusing, cackling and dark, rough and hoarse... Lacessera stopped dead. She knew that laugh. That evil, sickening, hateful laugh. The laugh that had imprisoned her for so many years, the laugh that had been her master before Caralessa had freed her at long last. The laugh which had meant her torture, her service, and her every pleasure, lavished upon the owner of the thrice-damned laugh.

Turning, Lacessera saw her nemesis returned. The Dark Eldar Archon stood, bedecked in his black armour, his crying blade softly weeping, and his wretched face contorted in laughter. Lacessera had long been this alien's servant; captured, then bound by foul energies, Lacessera had been unable to fight, unable to escape to the comforting beyond of the Warp, and forced to serve. This man had abused Lacessera, putting her through all manner of torture before ordering her to comfort him with all the pleasures of the Dark prince. For years Lacessera had been nothing more than a sexual slave; and whilst this endless pleasure would've appealed to Lacessera, she could not enjoy it due to the binding chains that had made her nothing but a mindless slave.

The Archon drew a whip, causing Lacessera to recoil in hatred; this whip had been covered with the same runes which had bound her chains. Lacessera knew what to do.

Roaring with graceful, primal fury, she leapt into the air, her clawed arms opening viciously. She slammed onto the form of her old master, knocking him to the floor. Quickly, faster than lightning, the whip slashed out, holding one of her arms in its grip. Immediately Lacessera felt the same, cold numbing sensation flood the arm, as is began to control her...

*No!*

The cry of Slaanesh pierced the runes of the Archon, unwilling to lose the newest and favoured Keeper of Secrets. Lacessera heard the cry, and felt her strength flooding back. The face of the Archon contorted as Lacessera pulled the whip towards her, whilst bringing her clawed arms inwards to slice the Eldar open. He could not stop it: the Dark Eldar lord was torn apart, his mauled corpse unrecognisable as it flew into the distance. Lacessera cried with the feeling of victory, to the purrs of her Dark Prince in her ear.

Continuing back along the path, it was not long before another opponent materialised in front of her: one that she had never managed to defeat. A mighty Bloodthirster, by the name of Blackblade, reared up in front of her, armed with an axe and a blade, and with mighty red wings. Lacessera had once angered the daemon by flouting her flesh in front of it until it was gripped with such a fury that it had tried to kill her. Lacessera had escaped, but barely. Now, however, she was stronger. Still, another little play-about was irresistible.

*Oh, Lacessera... you are so naughty.*

Lacessera danced forward, cavorting around an axe-swipe, and, leaping past the sword-thrust, whispered in the ear of Blackblade:

_"Want another go, honey? I'm ready for you..."_

Lacessera had angered the daemon, who swept at her with both arms at once. The Keeper of Secrets nimbly dodged.

_"Oh, don't be so rough! But then again, I'm a rough girl..."_

Lacessera leapt forward, catching the irate Khorne daemon off-guard. Her claws raked along his thighs, creating deep gashes, before sweeping upwards and catching the bull-like head of Blackblade. Lacessera leaned into her swipe, breathing the Breath of Slaanesh into the wounds. It wasn't long before the Khorne daemon became groggy and slow. After a few, half-hearted swipes, the daemon dropped its weapons, and staggered towards Lacessera's pale flesh dumbly.

_"Now now, you're not nearly as much fun..."_ tutted Lacessera, neatly decapitating her foe with a swipe of her claws. Skipping over the weakly spasming corpse, Lacessera headed on to her true foe.

It would take more than a few memories to stop her now.


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## WarpSpawned (Mar 9, 2010)

Oon'Nu stood back to watch the transformation of Viralestopheles, a Great Unclean One! What a most pestilential blessing to receive, truly the former PlagueBearer had been favored by the Grandfather. 
As for himself he could feel new surges of toxins and myriad disease flow through his body, it strengthened him and it changed him, his body twisting as a seizure violently wracked his frame.

Chitinous plates burst from his flesh in a welter of pus and rot-black blood, the plates sliding into place and covering the Daemon's entire body in a living armor, his fingers fused into dull talons of gnarled bone, multiple blisters formed on his face and as they burst eyes blinked where the sores had been. His many eyes were black and glinted with malicious mirth, teeth ringed his mouth all the way down his esophagus as sharp mandibles pushed their way out of the old bones of his jaw.
His body swelled til he was a good two heads taller, and a lot wider, then he had been, his body expanding to allow room for the changes wrought upon him by the Grandfather's favor.

Oon'Nu groaned in something akin to pain as two pairs of arms burst from rotting skin, smaller pincer-like ones from his chest and larger ones underneath his first ones; writhing tendrils burst from the back of his head, forming a living mane of venom-dripping barbed tentacles.
His body stopped shaking slowly as he examined his new body, finding it adequate for his purposes he summoned his flies, which crawled out of rents in his skin and began to head towards the city.

A new Herald of Nurgle walked, leaving rot and biting corpse-insects in its wake.

He wished to reveal his full displeasure to Anon. The Betrayer had a lot to answer for.

He had lost some time due to his transformation, but with the enhanced muscles in his new legs, ground was covered quickly; he flexed his fingers and paused as he neared the city, the dark around his feet was shifting, reacting to his presence, a shape formed out of the shadows.

Oon'Nu smiled as he recognized it, dear Kjarl, a Space Wolf that Oon'Nu had fought when the Daemon had been younger, he remembered that battle fondly, the Space Wolf had been most persistent and annoying, constantly disrupting Oon'Nu's task of spreading pestilential blessings.

It had ended with the Wolfs body being broken, though last the Herald had heard was that Kjarl was entombed within a Dreadnaught, or a wall, same difference.
He chuckled, and this was Anon's attempt to delay him? Making him fight memories of his past?
He could see other shapes beginning to loom out of the darkness, R'htor'Nxkra, a Tzeentchian Herald he had helped bring down, Ky'Or, a Tau Shas'O he had taken particular pleasure in disemboweling and multiple others.

He simply waved a talon and Kjarl disappeared, axe still raised and defiance etched on his face as he faded, none of this was quite real and Oon'Nu would _not_ allow his memories to be blatantly paraded for him to fight.
He ignored the others and they faded as he entered the city, Anon could not dissuade him from getting vengeance.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*The Final Confrontation...*

Anon glared hatefully back at the array of powerful daemons now standing before him. 

Tha`Aktos, now a mighty Bloodthirster. 

Gong`Alt, A herald riding atop a snarling juggernaut.

Lacassera, a lithe and graceful Keeper of Secrets. 

Viralestopheles, a swollen and massive Great Unclean One.

Oon`Nu, a large and powerful Herald of Nurgle. 

Korthose, a Lord of Change. 

Vetis, a herald flying upon a blazing disc of light.

They stared back, some scowling with hate, some smiling in anticipation, and some remaining passive. Sighing deeply, Anon was left with nothing to lose. No. Not quite nothing... 

He drew the necron forged sword and held it aloft. A weapon with the power to slay the gods themselves, and he was afraid of a few pathetic daemons? 

'Alright then.' He said, brandishing the weapon. 'It`s time for this to end.' 


--- --- --- 

Everyone: As Anon lifts the blade above his head, the swirling darkness that has engulfed the world responds to his call. The shadows engulf you, cutting you off completely from anything else until only you and Anon stand opposite each other in a world of shifting memories and nightmares. 

As far as each character is concerned, YOU are the only one fighting Anon.

Anon raises the sword to you and issues his final challenge.

Greater Daemons: Anon will not fight such a superior foe on your terms. Before you can attack, Anon transforms, becoming a mighty dragon, a snarling behemoth, gigantic wyrm or some similarly large and impressive form. The necron sword is invigorated by his power as well, remaining in his grip and transforming into a much larger version of itself.

Heralds: Anon will not transform against you, but keep in mind he wields a weapon capable of destroying star gods. 

Fighting Anon will be no simple task for any of you.

From here, it is completely up to you to decide your character`s success or failure. You have permission to control Anon`s attacks against you and his words if you wish. Do you win? Do you fail? Are you annihilated, banished or do you survive?

In any case, you will not be able to claim or destroy the necron made sword.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Gong'Alt approached the large form of the daemon prince Anon. Then all of a sudden, like a light switch flicking off, everything disappeared. Or so he thought at first. His eyes adjusted to the intense darkness, and realized it was just that: Intense darkness. Wisps of mist flicked around Anon's muscular legs, and formed up in large quantities, violently swirling around in a large circumference, caging the two opponents together. Anon marched towards Gong'Alt. His eyes were featureless in the blackness, but his entire face was illuminated in a bright, neon green cast by his large sword he carried. Energy coursed along its long blade like water flowing in a brook. The weapon was imbedded with alien runes, temporarily glowing a bright white, before fading again to reinitiate the cycle. The energy highlighted Anon's snarling mouth, and fearsome visage. The sword was the only source of light. Anon's hooves pounded on the rockrete floor, as he strode towards the Herald. Even Bunny seemed to cower in fear at the approaching monster. 

Gong'Alt stroked her head, and but was captivated by the beautiful weapon he held. Then, Anon's voice boomed over the darkness, echoing off unseen walls: "You are Gong'Alt, Herald of Khorne, are you not?" Gong'Alt didn't tremble when he spoke, nor did he waver. "Yes. I am the Almighty Khorne's chosen, the living will of the Lord of Skulls. You are Anon, a petty, traitorous fool!" Anon laughed loudly, a chorus of booms and glee. "_I_ am a fool!? Me!? Are you so stupid, little daemon!?" He stopped in his tracks, a mix of anger and humor eerily illuminated on his demonic face. "I hold in my hand a weapon capable of destroying ENTIRE PLANETS!" he roared, rage filling his voice. "The steps are complete! Victory is already in my grasp, and I won't let you stop me! You fools followed my plan perfectly! Now, I am more powerful than any God imaginable!" he threw his arms in the air, his voice raging uncontrollably. "This was all part of my plan! You can't possibly win!" Gong'Alt willed Bunny forward slowly, readying his hellblade by his side. "Ha! Ha ha ha! A pitiful little bloodletter like you is going to defeat a daemon prince, who holds in his hand a tool capable of killing BILLIONS!?" Gong'Alt struck, his hellblade poised for the daemon prince's neck. It hit its target, slicing straight through. Anon roared in rage, more than pain, and struck out, knocking Gong'Alt back. Quickly, Gong’Alt remounted Bunny and ordered her back. She charged into the darkness of the "arena", the brute rampaging close on her tail. Then, he stopped. "Come out and fight me, whelp!" he bellowed into the darkness. He couldn't see him. The glowing alien sword acted as a beacon - Gong'Alt would always know where Anon was, but Anon himself couldn't penetrate the darkness with his eyes. Bunny slowed to a halt, and Gong'Alt circled around, moving to get behind him. Anon jumped around, bringing the sword to bear on nothing. A large streak of energy filled the air where the blade swung, and the horrible shriek of splitting wind sounded.

"Come and fight me like a man, whelp!" Anon bellowed. Gong’Alt knew he couldn't win in a one-on-one fight, however he could win if he made use of the inky darkness around them. Easing Bunny to a crawl, he prepared his next charge. They would strike Anon from behind, and Gong'Alt would sheath his hellblade into the monster's neck again. Without a cry for bloodlust, he charged, as quietly as possible. Anon wheeled around all too slowly, and Gong'Alt managed to cling onto Anon's back, bringing his hellblade to bear into his neck once more. Daemonic organs burst and spewed, but that wasn't enough to slow the beast. Anon yelled and threw him off, before charging madly towards him, the neon green light highlighting his furrowed eyes and roaring mouth. Gong'Alt rolled out of the way of the blade, a shriek sounding as it came down beside him. He got up quickly, and ran back into the darkness, Bunny coming in close behind: He wasn't foolish enough to fight the daemon in an even fight.

Anon put a hand to his aching neck, and held out his sword to the darkness. One more blow and his head would be cleaved from his shoulders. Then, an ingenious thought came to mind: An idea so great, not even Gong'Alt himself could do anything to counter it! His mouth rose to a feral grin. He would fell the daemon within minutes.

Gong'Alt mounted Bunny once more, and began circling around the perimeter of the "arena", not even appearing as a shadow within the thick blackness. Then, a roar sounded over the roomy rink, coming from Anon's traitorous mouth: "You were never Khorne's favorite, little daemon. Tha'Aktos was, and he always will be." Gong'Alt's temper began to rise, and a slight red glow appeared on his hellblade. Gong'Alt retorted aloud: "You fool! If Tha'Aktos was Khorne's favorite, why was I awarded a Juggernaut?" Anon laughed, and bellowed back in return, "That's because he didn't want to turn _you_ into a Bloodthirster!" Gong'Alt narrowed his eyes, and his teeth gnashed. "That's right, I am fighting Tha'Aktos in a different vision, whelp! A Bloodthirster is to a Juggernaut what Tha'Aktos is to you: A god!" Gong'Alt screamed, rage overcoming him. His hellblade flared wildly, the hot white flame pierced the darkness around him. "THA'AKTOS IS NOT BETTER THAN ME!" he yelled. Anon grinned monstrously. Now it would be an even battle.

Gong'Alt immediately realized his weakness, but was too blinded by rage to care. How dare he claim that Khorne favored Tha'Aktos over Gong'Alt!? After all the blood he's shed in Khorne's name!? He smacked Bunny on the head continuously, to get her riled up as she charged, red eyes fixed intently upon the target. Gong'Alt's narrowed eyes flared violently in the fire of his hellblade, while Anon's were lit up by the cold green of the alien energy. A single more blow to the neck would be enough to finish him. Anon was prepared. Anon struck out lightning-fast with his ancient blade, discarded energy trailing in its wake, tearing the air with a loud squeal. Gong'Alt rolled off of Bunny, just in time to avoid being hit by the second blow. Looking to his left briefly, he saw the Juggernaut run back into the darkness, leaving without a trace. The coward! She would not fight by her master in possibly the final hours of his mortal life. He rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the blade by his head. Coming up, he slashed his blade at Anon's midsection, but the beast leapt back slightly. Anon laughed and lunged once more, a savage smile looming over him. He could run back into the darkness, but Anon would know where he was, unless he controlled his temper, but that's as easy as putting a starving dog in front of meat, and telling him not to eat it. Gong'Alt rose up, just to receive a powerful blow to the chest, knocking him meters away, onto the ground. Anon took a long stride forward.

Gong'Alt tried to push himself up, but was quickly intercepted as Anon slammed his hoof upon Gong'Alt's chest. "Now, bloodletter, it is over." Just then, Bunny charged from the darkness, her long, broad horn smashing into Anon's midsection. He howled in pain, as his genitals were crushed and splintered. He brought the sword down in front of him, punching straight through Bunny's large body without any effort. She squealed feebly, before exploding outright in a burst of bright green light. Screaming in fury, Gong'Alt sprinted forward, leaping off the ground towards Anon's head. He grabbed on tightly, and managed his hellblade over to the daemon's neck. "DIEEEEE!" the flaring sword sliced clean through the neck, finally severing the spine and taking the head with it.

He leapt off, and panted heavily, staring over Anon's headless corpse. The discarded head rolled over to Gong’Alt’s feet, and he saw the last expression on Anon’s monstrous face: Fear. Gong’Alt laughed loudly with glee. Now, he has earned himself a title: Gong’Alt, the Destroyer of Traitors!


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## Farseer Darvaleth (Nov 15, 2009)

Lacessera snarled in anticipation as she neared Anon. Her revenge, for Caralessa, neared, and with Slaanesh as her patron, Lacessera knew she would succeed. She was a Keeper of Secrets, the ultimate daemon given a perfect body. As she ran, sighs were exuded from the earth underneath her as it cried out for her caress, the ground itself desiring her attentions. She was the aspect of war in its most beautiful form, ascended into the ranks of Slaanesh's most favoured. Tonight, she would recline in the Well of a Thousand Sins, and the next night in the Den of Depravity, and after that... the Bed of Slaanesh himself, amongst the few favoured whom will be honoured with the Pleasure of the Dark Prince. But first, she must defeat Anon.

As she neared the daemon, she called out in a sensual voice:

*"Give in, Anon, give in to me... I'll make you feel like the only thing in the universe. To me, you are..."*

She could see the strains of sexual temptation etched across Anon's face, but they were short-lived. Suddenly the blade he held shimmered a ghostly green, and Anon snapped back to attention. The skies darkened, and Lacessera was shrouded in a black mist.

She felt the mist pawing at her, and at first mistook it for the kind of attention she normally pursued. Caught off-guard for a moment, Lacessera giggled as the mist swished through her loin-cloth, laughing as it trickled its way down her abdomen, and as it coiled around her breasts.

Suddenly, almost a second too late, she threw up her claws into a block: the Necron Blade slashed out, much bigger than its original form, clanging off her claws and disappearing again. Lacessera snapped into focus, but still the mist felt at her, probing and swishing around her, trying to divert her attention and make her fall into a pit of pleasure.

Lacessera tried to dart out of the mist, but it seemed to continue forever. Suddenly, the blade slashed out again, and again was blocked. Lacessera pressed forward, however, to pursue the attacker; she was forcefully blocked, however, by a wave of mist that formed against her, dense as rock, and even more tempting than the last tendrils that had probed her. Lacessera let out a gust of breath as she was winded.

To her surprise, Lacessera's breath melted away the mist utterly, leaving a space of clean air. Lacessera began spinning, and unleashing her Breath of Chaos. Soon, however, fierce columns of mist formed around her, pushing against her. Now Lacessera gave in; surrounded by pleasure-inducing Chaos Breath, and now a fresh onset of the sensual mist, Lacessera could not resist. She fell to the ground, exuding even more Breath, and rolling on top of herself, letting her ravages run wild. Soon all of the mist was gone, but in its place was the Breath of Chaos; surrounding Lacessera like a pink veil, rendering her helpless.


Anon chuckled from behind Lacessera as he approached. The Necron blade glimmered in his grip. Lacessera's essence was beginning to unravel, as she couldn't stop her insane sexual ecstasy. She rolled on the floor, crying out orgasmically, unable to defend herself, and unable to stop the infinite pleasure. Her daemonic form began to writhe, as she slowly dissipated into the Warp.

_"Oh no you don't,"_ muttered Anon, plunging the blade into Lacessera's writhing body.

Lacessera let out one, final, high-pitched squeal, as she experienced the Final Pleasure; death.

However, her essence, already loose, would not be so easy to destroy. The Necron blade was wreathed in pink mist as Lacessera dissolved, her spirit sucked into its icy depths. She would have no power against this blade; she was an impotent observer, but nonetheless, bound to the blade. Soon, the pink gas disappeared entirely, floating away into oblivion.


Anon nodded, thinking Lacessera destroyed, as her last cries echoed across the landscape. Deep in the Warp, this cry was matched by the howls of Slaanesh, as a second of his favoured fell.


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Far away, on a distant planet, a warrior, clad in bone and flame, looked up. He too heard the scream of the daemon.

He was afraid.


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