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Offline Myen'Tal

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The New Word
« on: February 28, 2013, 11:21:09 PM »
What is up, 40k online!? This is something I recently wrote down, hope you enjoy 8) ;) ;D! Don't hesitate to say what you think!


The New Word


Chapter One: Underground Metro

   Lyria glanced casually out her window, watching an endless stretch of underground walls pass by in a constant blur. The metro-bus must’ve been speeding at a minimum of eighty miles per hour; she could even feel the pressure in her gut despite her power armor. The train was a silver bullet in the dimly lit darkness, engines screaming to the top of their capacity, thrusters and stabilizers constantly wobbling to keep the train in suspended motion. Occasionally, they would emerge out of the darkness and into the nightscape of Aurelia, the capital of the Hive planet Tyrannus.

   Lyria cast a wary eye upon anyone in her vicinity; usually, she’d be sitting in her seat with a look of mild contempt plain on her face. Having to travel with the common citizenry often provoked such expressions, for those days she would proudly where her helm to hide it. There was no reason to in this instance, for the train was nearly empty save two dozen battle nuns of the adepta sororitas. Many of them were dressed in battle robes that one would usually don their armor over, yet they did not wear any armor. The gleam of their bolters reflected in the dim light, the initiates must’ve felt empowered by it. Lyria knew she did when experiencing her first trials, a true test of faith and courage, and a reliable analysis of one’s abilities.

   A tiny smirk crossed her lips at the memories that began to surface, oh holy of holies, grant her the strength that saw her through the massacres of Dynara and Sojek. Bless her with the strength and immortal essence of St. Celestine, and reunite all mankind under the one true Imperium of man.
***************
Two years ago…

   The metro-bus began to skid into a gradual halt, sliding forward for a few more kilometers before coming full stop before a station that sat atop a great vista overlooking Sojek. The Hive city awaited them like a tempting mistress, calling to them to explore every inch of its surface in a never ending adventure. She could see the estates of the nobility and the Imperial palaces reach out into a star littered night sky. She could see miles below her into the under city, the heart of villainy and corruption. There were many lights in the city and in many more different colors. It was like stepping into a fasting festival within the Order Fortress back in Aurelia. 
 
       Too bad the deed of the day would be killing, stamping out anything that moved if it resembled cultists, demons, or zombies, whichever one they saw first.

       “I’m itching to use this thing and crack some skulls, eh? What do you say, Lyria?” Sister Ameni’s eyes gleamed with a murderous intent that was completely acceptable, given the circumstances. Like Lyria, she too was dressed in thick emerald and white battle robes and nothing more. The pair of them looked like clerics, not initiates belonging to the Order of the Emperor’s Grace.

         “I am ready.” Lyria eventually spoke, staring down at her bolter intently, inspecting every piece of it like she always had since the beginning of her training.

         “Whoever dies this day, I certainly hope you two are not among them.” Sister Meril grated through her V.O.X. grill, her voice amplified by the loud speakers incorporated in her full gear of power armor.

         “Peace.” Meril uttered with a raise of her hand, showing that she had not meant to disturb them. “Reflect on the battle to come, you two will be fine.”

         “Holy of holies, bestow upon us the Emperor’s grace.” Ameni and Lyria both bowed their heads slightly and uttered in reverent tones.

   “On your feet, Sisters! The train has stopped!” A voice called out from the other side of the train, deigning to repeat herself a second time so that she was properly heard.

          The air was crisp and cool; the essence of winter had touched the city, though no snow was falling outside the station. The noise of hover cars and ground vehicles disturbed the night, but could not drown out the sounds of gunfire.  They were in the heart of Sojek, where that was, Lyria did not have the faintest clue, but she was here to deliver the Emperor’s will and by the golden throne she would.

           “So, three dozen armed clerics and six battle sisters, not the odds I would like, but they will have to do. Move them out.” Cannoness Kari glared at the assembled battle group, if one could even call it that. She inspected each and every one of them as they marched through the gate entrance to leave the station, whispering prayers and benedictions as they all left to fight.

          “The honor could be ours to fight with Canoness, just let the Emperor guide your blades and you’ll do well.”   Meril laughed at the tenseness in her initiates’ posture and the hesitation in their expressions. “Do not let fear cloud your judgment now; you were all only boasting a day ago! Shall we pray as we march?”

   
“From the lightning and the Tempest”

        “Our Emperor, deliver us”

   “From plague, temptation and war”

   “Our Emperor, deliver us”

   “From the scourge of Kraken”

   “Our Emperor, deliver us”
*******
Still two years ago…

             The march had taken them from the station and deeper into Sojek’s under city where a massive battle raged. Imperial Guard of the 89th Sojek Volunteers along with elements of the 5th Conorag Bloodhounds, 7th Hammers of the Golden Throne Armored Regiment, the Oder of the Emperor’s Grace, and the Sundered Legion 3rd Company Space Marines to fend off an assault from the forces of chaos. The Thousand Sons had plagued the sector for centuries, bringing war to would be peaceful kingdoms within the Tarmathon Sector. An army of cultists have been mustered to wage war upon the surface while the Thousand Sons do whatever they please. They take part in the land invasions plaguing the hive world Tyrannus, but to what avail, no one knows.

        “I am ethereal. A being of flesh as much as I am a being of imagination. I sit upon the edge of your mind, listening intently to your thoughts and telling you how to proceed with your pitiful, pathetic life. I am your heart’s true desire, the reason it beats so impulsively, all to pump fresh blood into that exhausted, limited mind of yours. Imagine me and I shall come to you, speak to me and you shall hear my whispers, Empower me with souls and see your greatest desire fulfilled upon a whim. The name I have given myself for the sake of all mortals is Nyst, a greater demon and champion of Tzeetch. Why am I so much more powerful than my kin, because I was created and shaped by twisted eldar minds that worship my lord and patron.  You may sup from this cup of knowledge mortal, go ahead, it is my gift to you, take it, honestly.”

          Lriean glared at the monster with disgust, observing it sitting perched atop a ruined throne, holding something very valuable to the both of them in its hands. The greater demon possessed the form of a mutated centaur, a mythological figure from the ancient days of the mon-keigh. Its lower body was covered in slimy, diamond hard reptilian scales, supported by four stubby, reptilian like feet with thick claws that looked as if they could gouge admantanium without effort and ended with a glistening tail nearly the size of Lriean himself. Upon this lower body was the form of a slender woman, her skin a pale blue that was barely visible in the ill lit darkness. Her naked upper body was hidden away between two columns of beautiful black hair coming down either side of her face. The soulless pits of her eyes leered at him and she smiled, revealing a shark’s mouth of teeth and slithering green tongue.

         Nyst reached out with her humanoid arms and beckoned him to come closer. Lriean did not feel much obliged to do so, instead dropping the silver cup in his hand and raising his las-gun at the greater demon. Staring down the darkness within himself as well as this enemy without, he couldn’t help but occasionally glance at the artifact in the demon’s hands. The soul stone of Ar’ka’ram, a legendary Exarch from the artificial planet of Ulthwe, sister craftworld of his home Teyl-Jhen. How many Farseers and Autarchs would pay handsomely for that, it could be worth far more than this greater demon knew.

       “If all you’re concerned about is feeding on souls, then why don’t crack that thing open and just suck it out!” Lriean hissed at the demon thing, looking ready to fire at a moment’s notice and send it back to oblivion if that were possible.

       “Hmmm, mortal, I do not believe you actually understand your peril, but alas, maybe I’ll oblige you.” Nyst snarled in her many voices voice, appearing unsatisfied with the reaction from the eldar dressed in loose Imperial fatigues.

   The greater demon slowly raised the thing to her mouth, staring at the jewel longingly for a moment, contemplating exactly what future would play out with certain consequences. Cautiously, like a dog partially biting into food it doesn’t particularly like, she cracked the stone with a powerful bite. A demonic roar erupted from her throat the likes that Lriean had never heard before, roaring with satisfaction as the soul within the stone cried out for the last time, evaporating into Nyst’s very being. Without much thought, she cast the stone before the eldar’s feet, nodding her approval as it shattered against cold steel.

   “I shall part for a time, mortal; perhaps we shall meet again when you are more sensible? Keep the cup; it is a gift, honestly.”

   Lazily, Nyst rose to her feet, hissing at the eldar as a passing warning as she faded away into mist.

   “Ashes and Dust, Lriean, I am ethereal, you are but the former.”
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Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #1 on: March 3, 2013, 07:40:41 PM »
NOTE: With the way the site is currently set up, these paragraphs may resemble a small wall of text. When everything is sorted out, don't worry, it should look normal. This is just a small update  ;D.



        Lriean kneeled down to pick up the shattered fragments of the soul stone, letting it fall through his fingers before sighing hopelessly. He inspected the ruins around him; they were dank, dark, and foreboding, but none of that had deterred him from arriving in the city of Sojek and finding this subterranean ruin deep within the bowels of the hive city. The cultists that had originally been here had let the place fall to ruin; many of the light fixtures had been busted and flickering in and out of existence, many of the walls had been caved in during the warfare that this place had saw probably years ago.

         Why a throne appeared at the end of this chamber was beyond him, this was no longer an age of kings, but one of governors and palaces. He studied the place where Nyst had been laying only a moment before, the Eldar had attempted to dethrone her from her position of power more than once. Just another reason he had come seeking something as important as soul stones in the area. Of course, it wasn’t the only treasure worth discovering here, many Imperial artifacts and templates could be discovered all over this vast planet. However, such things were usually under the guidance and protection of the adeptus mechanicus and they held no love for alien species such as the Eldar.   

      “Qu’nalan.” He lifted two of fingers to tap into the comm-bead linked to his left ear, listening to the soft static for a moment before a voice registered him.

       “Lriean, did you find the stone?” The voice over the other end was a darker tone than his and more hushed.

      “I ran into a little trouble, well more than that, but I managed. The stone is useless now.”

      “I see. Well get back up here, it’s time to leave this place in search of something else. Qu’nalan out.”

       Didn’t Qu’nalan know that there was a war waging out there right now? What new leads could he possibly have that they hadn’t talked about? Well, he would know when he spoke to him in person, time to leave here, whatever this place was.

       The Eldar threw his las-gun over his shoulder and began to trek off into the distance.

   “Lriean.”

   “Huh? Who goes there?” The relic hunter called out, placing a cautious hand on his las-gun. He cast glances into the darkness, yet saw nothing.

   “I am only curious as to why you said you do not possess the soul stone of Ar’ka’ram? If you needed aid, you should have called upon me, I would have gladly come with you.” Taryi’s voice carried over the darkness, echoing in the haunting quiet and interrogating him softly.

   “No offence, Taryi, but I don’t think your acquired skills would have helped me much.”
 
          Lriean watched the howling banshee emerge from the darkness in the direction he was heading. Her curly auburn hair bounced with every step, threatening to cover her bright jade eyes and the dark inked tattoos partially covering her face. She was clad in sleek armor that fit tightly around her slender frame and she held the two handed executioner in her hands. The howling banshee stood at least two heads over the strangely dressed Lriean, lowering her gaze onto him like a stern mentor rebuking a student who had just made a grave mistake.

       “Then what happened?” She interrogated again, curiosity peaked at the actions of her fellow eldar.

       “Nyst is what happened, I never thought I’d bump into such a strange demon of legend, but here we are, talking about it after the fact.”

       Taryi’s eyes widened a fraction, uttering the name to herself as if contemplating what implications the name had. Then the look in her eyes suddenly steeled into a sterner expression, looking Lriean up and down and examining his current state of being.

       “You look no worse for wear. Why is that?”

        “She simply left after taking what she wanted, I’m not sure what else I’ve could have done, given the circumstances.”

        “Or course not.” The howling banshee stated, unimpressed. “Let us move, I’m sure you desire to leave here as soon as possible.”

        The two began to retract their footsteps back towards the way they came, stepping through a ruined corridor with its walls gutted and littered with rotting carcasses and skeletons. On what part of that walls that had held out for all these years had various types of graffiti and messages sprawling across their surface. They soon came across an elevator shaft that would take them out of the dreary pit they had descended into.

   “You didn’t by chance find anything of use down here, did you?” Lriean pressed the button according to the highest level he wanted to go and the elevator doors squealed shut.

   “No.” Taryi studied him with an incredulous look, examining his face to see if he was being serious.

   “Just wondering.” Lriean said distracted, obviously other things were on his mind. “What was Qu’nalan doing before you came down here?”

   “Waiting for you.”

   A resounding bell ringed within the elevator and the doors came squeaking open, revealing a night sky and towering sky scrapers raising kilometers above ground. They stepped into a small plaza, completed with a small garden and Imperial chapel in the midst of it. There was a massive demon looming around the chapel, about as tall as Lriean himself and built of crimson sinew and muscle. A wicked tongue licked hungrily at the air and beady red eyes stared into their souls from afar. The bloodletter held a demonically forged blade in its right hand, nothing else in its left, but it looked poised and ready to strike.

   “Qu’nalan!?” Lriean called out, but there was no answer.

   Two more appeared out of the shadows, coming to stand near their comrade and leering as they began to slowly approach. Each of them looked menacing in their own right, but their bulk did not phase Lriean or Taryi, who instantly grabbed their weapons and stormed off into two different directions.

   Lriean kicked his las-rifle from single shot to full auto and opened up a salvo of las-bolts that punched the one of the far left- the one nearest him- in the chest several times. The monster took the bullets in stride and laughed confidently at its upstart opponent, roaring out the demonic challenge before three blood letters sprung into a charge of their own. Lriean opened fire again at the one coming towards him, first blasting at the legs and torso before working his way up to the thing’s face. The blood letter shielded his face with the massive bulk of its arm, raising his sword up to cleave Lriean who simply rolled out of the way as he fired.

   The Eldar Relic hunter sprang to his feet, ducking beneath an arched swing meant to cleave his head off. He brought his bayonet up, but the blood letter’s arms were still covering its face. Instead he swung the knife on the edge of his las-gun into the things gut, managing to stab twice before it brought its elbow down on his temple and sent spinning away. The demon of Khorne did not let up, swinging its blade around its head before bringing it down in an overhead strike.

   Lriean dived and rolled away from the blow, barely managing to not be scathed by it, he threw the las-gun at the demon to temporarily halt its momentum. In that space of time, he drew his shuriken pistol and unleashed a flurry of laser fire that would shred a lesser man in an instant. It merely injured the blood letter, causing it to recoil from Lriean and use its sword as a shield.

   Taryi twirled around the first blood letter to reach her, stabbing in with one side of her executioner and impaling the thing in the gut. She remembered to twist before departing the blade from flesh, bringing the blade back around to parry the second blood letter in a shower of sparks. The two power weapons clashed for a few seconds,  each one struggling to gain an edge over the other. She flipped backwards before the blood letter could bring his blade back for another strike, cleaving the first blood letter she had engaged in two with an effortless strike.

   With a howl of rage, the first demon of the group departed, turning into a fine mist before evaporating into the warp completely. The second seemed undettered, instead raising its blade and roaring triumphantly over the screams of its dying comrade. It waved at the shadows  and spoke in a diabolic tongue, loud enough to make her ears reverberate heavily.

   “Cursed thing, I’ll slay you and your entire ilk!”

   More blood letters came roaring out of the darkness, blades burning brightly with hellfire and murderous intent in their eyes. They stormed forward across the plaza to lock arms with the pair of eldar and claim their souls for Khorne. Similar to the first pack, they split into groups, two for Lriean, the other three for Taryi. They howled like wild animals in the night, already covered in the blood of many innocents. 

   “Lriean! Taryi! Look out below!” A voice shouted from the rooftops, Qu’nalan stood atop a housing block over-looking the plaza, clad in the armor of the dark reaper and cradling a tempest launcher in his arms.

   Not saying anything more, Qu’nalan fired twin rockets into the rushing hoard of blood letters, aiming for the pair that were chasing after Lriean. The first rocket scathed the blood letter that Lriean had been blasting away since the fight began, the other one had landed perfectly between the other two lagging behind. The blast gouged out layers of asphalt and blew apart one of the blood letters in a gory display of blood. The second was flung across the plaza by the blast, twisting an arm and snapping it on impact with the asphalt where Taryi was currently fighting.

   Disengaging from combat, the howling banshee gracefully darted from the other blood letters to the injured one, effortlessly leaping over it and inserting one end of her blade between the thing’s spine around the neck. Effectively killing it, she turned to the other three, staring them down as they meant to surround her. A knowing smile crossed her lips and she charged into the three, using her feet to climb up and leap over the more hunched blood letter, she landed in a kneeled position beside one of the reinforcements, taking out its leg below the knee cap.

   With no leg to stand on, it naturally collapsed, reaching out for the banshee with the intent of savagely pulling one of her arms off. In a split second reaction, she answered with a quick thrust from her blade into the demon’s gaping mouth, erupting out the other end in a shower of blood. It slowly began to fade into a fine mist, but still maintained a firm grip on her arm.

   With a look of shock on her face, she could only watch the other two charge her down, but an idea popped in her head at that moment as she heard the rocket come down. She hastily pulled the rapidly fading body of the blood letter over around her while she hit the ground, covering herself to some extent as the first rocket buried itself deep in one of the blood letter’s gut. It promptly blossomed in an explosion of blood and mist; the shear force sent the second flying and bought her a little more time.

   The demon hide around her fading into nothingness, she once again commanded her arm with her own strength, rising to her feet and throwing the blade at the last demon trying to erect itself near the chapel wall. The blade impaled the demon through the stomach, carving itself into the cold metal of the chapel and pinning the blood letter against it.

   “Lreian!”

   Lriean kicked the kneeling blood letter in the teeth, bringing his bayonet from his re-acquired las- rifle right into the beast’s eye socket. Not even flinching from the grotesque pop within the eye socket, he slid the bayonet out of the gun and proceeded to fire the remainder of his ammunition into the blood letter stuck upon the chapel. The las-bolts hit accurately and in dense succession, repeatedly blasting away at the minion of Khorne’s face until only exposed, bullet ridden brain matter was left in place of a face. Then once again, it faded away.

   “Are you two alright?” Qu’nalan asked, but did not stop for an answer. “I’m making my way off this roof top!”

   “What’s next, haha, zombies!?”Lriean shrugged at Taryi with a grim smile, wiping the sweat off his face.

   “I wouldn’t joke about such things here, who knows, perhaps it will be,” The howling banshee smiled back, shrugging carelessly as well.
*************


Post Merge: March  5, 2013, 12:44:16 AM
In the future, please use the modify button. Double posting is against the forum rules, and for that reason, the system merged your posts.

               “We can move the imperial guard companies up through the Tesian Highway,” Canoness Kari poured over a holographic map of Sojek’s under city with her generals. The tactical display highlighted many different zones, each one of those zones representing allied or non-friendly territory. Within each of those territories a series of troop formations and base-outpost locations dotted the immersive map.

   “From there, we can move onto objective 418-68, of operation Spearhead,” She continued, drawling on and on about trivialities of war.

   Lyria quietly observed the interior of the command center, studying the mass of adepts, Imperial guard, and agents of the adeptus mechanicus laboring under stressful condition in a sterile, pristine environment. Twice as many servitors were working at the cogitators, or moving and setting up equipment, and working on that blasted telecommunications array that had been down all night. The Imperial guardsmen were also going over their strategic options alongside the Canoness while their bodyguards sat at the doorways and every other secure position listening intently.

   “We’ve heard the reports: the Thousand Sons are planet side and are main priority should be sniffing them out.”

   Lyria was uncertain as to why so many initiates had been brought into the presence of so many Celestians and Imperial Officers. Even the Adeptus Astartes had sent an envoy Captain to make sure everything was in order for the coming purge. The bodyguards of the Sundered Legion: Veteran squads that fought for well over a century, stood with them at the entrance seemingly interested in only the conversation transpiring between the higher chain of command. Sister Meril had gathered her own adeptus sororitas around a small recess table that were not initiates close to her, intent on discussing other matters. Ameni, Haxta, Helga, Maren, and herself stood with their backs against the cold steel of the walls away from the other squad of sisters.

   “We’ve taken heavy losses at the Artaxas Gate, Brother Captain Justilius, I trust you will lead your brothers there.”

   Haxta occupied herself with smoking a cigarette with Helga and Maren, chatting quietly amongst themselves about the kills they had made on the way here. Lyria had scored a few kills herself, she remembered fondly the bolter rattling in her arms and spraying death at the horde of people who tried to confront them. There had even been zombies she had blown away in her fury, sparing none of the ill sick with the plague of un-death or just madness. She hadn’t dared challenge anything in close proximity to her in close combat, that was not recommended until one fought with power armor.

   “I wish we could speak to the admirals about the situation above our atmosphere in case we require additional supplies and reinforcements from off-world.”

   Ameni had been beside her the entire time and they had scythed down many together like wheat the field. Her murderous lust was slaked and she could see that in her eyes now, staring blankly at a data slate in her hands, looking rather board. Lyria wondered how alright she really was, no doubt all that killing had taken a toll on them all, seeing so many dying in such a variety of ways and losing comrades. Some were lost, mostly initiates who had been overrun at their section of the front.

   “I wonder how much longer until we’re fully initiated?” Lyria asked Ameni, who finally looked up from her data slate with un-interest.

   “Don’t ask me, ask Sister Meril.” She glanced back down to her slate, obviously preoccupied with reading its contents.

   “What are you reading?”

   “A book of Psalms, why?” Ameni gave her a look of minor annoyance, putting the data slate down for a minute to talk.
*********         
« Last Edit: March 5, 2013, 12:44:17 AM by MyenTal »
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Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #2 on: March 6, 2013, 10:11:49 PM »

   Someone else was also listening to the Canoness go over Imperial preparations, an adeptus sororitas Celestian bodyguard named Edessa. She sat in a great chair just behind the Canoness, arms folded, legs crossed with a lit cigar in her mouth. She expelled smoke from hips and nostrils before inhaling the strong scent again, gently tapping the cigar on the ash tray and allowing the ash to fall into it. She was alone, sitting in the darkness, observing everyone else oblivious to her presence.

   Nyst happily observed the empty vessel with piqued interest, moving invisible fingers with magical puppet strings attached. Of course, her chosen vessel moved with them, at first resisting, feeling unwell and struggling to cope with the small amount of pressure slowly increasing overtime. She placed her hands on her head, closed her eyes and became possessed under her influence. There was little point in directly possessing her with all of the security, guards, and mass of bodies in that place. She would never escape, no this was far better.

   “Come now, love, a puppet’s dance to entertain me for a while. This one does not elude me like the eldar, master. He pretends to be so elusive, but I can simply observe the future when I wish and discover his true desires. This would be so much easier if he had just sold his soul under my supervision, but it must always be difficult doesn’t it?”

   “Admirable work, Nyst, but I must take my leave now. I believe I heard enough about loyalist plans for one day. End their session, would you?” A telepathic voice touched her ethereal mind, finding it within the warp before departing as quickly as it came.

   “Of course, master, by you I am bound.”

   Edessa lifted her hands from her face, revealing a dark intent in her eyes and twisted smile on her lips. Nyst easily spoke through her, gracefully communicating every word through her own mouth under her powerful trance.

   “I am power.” She breathed with no small amount of anticipation.

   The possessed Celestian lifted herself from her seat, silently walking up behind the Canoness, pretending to be interested in the tactical discussion taking place in the center of H.Q. She lingered over the hierarchy of officers and generals a little longer; none of them seemed to pay her any attention. She eyed the Brother Captain the most, wondering if he would notice her before it was too late.

   “Best not to wait then.” Edessa promptly reached for her bolt pistol, pressing it against the back of the Canoness’ head and blowing her brains out the other side of her skull and spraying the tactical map hologram table with her brain matter. Fresh blood splurted from her shattered skull and the simply stood erect for a moment, before slowly crumbling all together.

   “Emperor’s mercy!” One of her right hands screamed out, reaching for her own pistol as she spun around.

   Edessa shot her through the side of her head, the bullet coming through the other side and detonating in an Imperial’s officer’s chest.

   Many of the generals present were suddenly taking cover or running from the massacre, screaming for their guards to protect them. From every corner of the room, armed assailants came running to the scene and were only seconds away from drawing line of sight on the demonically influenced battle nun. Captain Justilius unsheathed his chainsword and leapt over the hologram table, ready to cleave her apart.

   Edessa pressed the bolt pistol to her head and squeezed the trigger, choosing to die with a smile on her face.
*****************

   “The hell was that all about?” Lriean questioned a becalmed Qu’nalan, who merely shrugged in response.

   “They emerged from the darkness; they must’ve seen me waiting for you outside that ruin, and figured they’d come after you two. They would have assailed me instead had I not took flight onto one of the roof tops and your perfect timing.” Qu’nalan radiated the appearance of a person who had spent a century or two perfecting the art of killing. His time in the Dark Reaper Aspect had transformed him from an eldar who had once been like Lriean, into a warrior of silent contemplation and one that saw and respected only death in any form. That same lack of respect and his murderous intent was also the reason he could no longer love Taryi the howling banshee. They had been close to being lovers once, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t merely be friends now.

    The Dark Reaper threw his tempest launcher upon the small altar within the Imperial Chapel that they had fought outside of moments before. He expelled a great sigh and studied the rest of his team with weary eyes, sitting on one of the benches within the humble place of worship. The aspect warrior hesitated for a moment, wanting to say something, but retracting the words in his mouth at the last second.

   “Well that aside,” Taryi carefully approached him, placing a gentle hand upon Qu’nalan’s. “You said you had something interesting to share with us?”

   “True.” A sudden enthusiasm came over his stoic expression, glancing at both of them to catch their interest. “Spirit Seer Mae touched my mind earlier this evening, she told me-us- to tread carefully, demons of the Thousand Sons maybe stalking us and that we should end our search of the spirit stones, for now at least.”

   “How intuitive.” Taryi grimaced, shaking her head and frowning at the Dark Reaper. “Is that all she said? What next, we’ll be running into ancient demons in delves into ruins?’

   “Of course that’s not all she said,” Qu’nalan spat with no small amount of annoyance, picking up something that had been attached to his armor and placing it upon the altar.

   The piece of equipment displayed many runes in its holographic center, Qu’nalan named but one and it began to flare into life. A holographic image formed in the air above the emitter, taking the shape of Spirit Seer Mae in her long elegant robes and war helmet.

   “Greetings, young ones,” Her voice came out amplified and distorted by the psychic energies of her helmet, immediately extending her an aura of mysticism. “I come on behalf of the council. Hello again, Lriean, did you by chance come across the soul stone of Ar’ka’ram?”

   A joyous air seemed to surround the elder Seer, probably thinking they had taken the stones with ease.

   “No.” Lriean replied apologetically. “I did not, that great evil that you said maybe stalking us, they reached it first.”

   “That is most regrettable.” Mae sounded somewhat surprised and thoroughly disappointed.

   “Honestly, Spirit Seer, I do not see why the council continues to send us in search of these stones.” Qu’nalan uttered respectfully. “Demons usually hoard the stones for themselves and the stones themselves are usually lost by the time we even locate them.”

    “Not one soul of our kind should be forsaken to such a fate.” Mae chastised him with a gentle rebuke. “We would send someone to find yours if you had suddenly been claimed by death.”

   Qu’nalan merely replied with an understanding nod, which seemed to satisfy the Spirit Seer.

    “You three seem in good health, did anything else transpire?”

   “We ran into Nyst and a few demons in our search.” Lriean took over, glaring at the hologram intently. “That just can’t be coincidence; do you know what she wants?”

   “Thousand Sons and Demons are nearly as random as we appear to other species, we can attempt to discern the future, but we may not find the answers you seek. I did warn you that she may seek whoever she pleases and that she does maintain a grasp on this planet.”

   “With all due respect, Seer,” Taryi suddenly came between the two. “Unless you intend to grant us a small taskforce do deal with this new threat, how do you expect us to fight such a creature?”

   There was a moment of silence.

   “It may be your fate to combat this creature, but for now, in the foreseeable future, you may need protection for the rest of your stay on this planet.” Now Mae simply sounded worried by something, she was pacing back and forth now and obviously contemplating what she was about to say. “The council may have proved correct after all, though you are all trained in the way of killing – you least of all, Lriean- I cannot expect you to handle your next task on your own.”

   “Perhaps, working in collaboration with the Inquisition can be a means to an end for both sides of the coin.”

   “Whoa, wait, wait, what, I’m sorry?” Lriean barely flinched at the name; it had no more fear attached to it than any other
demon out there. Even so, the eldar relic hunter loathed the idea of working with actual fanatics.

   “The Inquisition has come to our council for an offer; they wish to uncover what the Thousand Sons are plotting on Tyrannus with our help.” The Spirit Seer finally caved. “However we do not wish to be bogged down in Mon-Keigh wars, so I have decided to send you three. There must be an ancient artifact these chaos space marines must be seeking, seek it out, and if fate wills it, before they do. I’ll be here to guide you in case you desire aid. You must understand, this is your profession, so please accept this task.”

   “How can we stay ahead of the Thousand Sons if we can’t even out maneuver a demon? I correct myself, a greater demon?” Taryi did not sound too enthused.

   “I shall arrange a contact for you to meet; he may prove to be a great boon on this subject. Go to the research facility of Grixmanan: the fortress monastery belonging to the Order of the Emperor’s Grace. It is based in Aurelia. He will meet you there.”   
******************   
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Re: The New Word
« Reply #3 on: March 9, 2013, 04:21:04 PM »

“I knew Canoness Kari Olympia, only in her prime years as commander of our sacred order. To her death we salute.”

“Our honored Canoness, we serve, hail the holy throne of Terra.” A thousand voices chanted the short Psalm, a thousand fists clashed against chest plates in that very moment.

The entire might of the Adeptus Sororitas Order had assembled in the mighty halls of Grixmanan, at attention, organized in rank and file throughout Cyrus square. Envoys from the Sundered Legion and the Imperial Guard had been allowed to gather for the mourning, bringing with them an Honor company garbed in full ceremonial wardrobe. The mighty golden walls of the facility surrounded the ongoing funeral, their pulpits and bristling artillery pieces and heavy weapon emplacements entirely emptied for the occasion.

“She has been accepted among the saints that reside beside the holy Throne of Terra, a voyage that we all must embark on one day. But sisters, let it not be in these grim, dark days, when war is being waged on a galactic scale, the very genocide of Mankind at hand.”

“Aye! We have purpose!” Captain Justilius and his honor company bellowed as one, offering a twice salute to her sacrifice.

The massive statue of the Emperor himself overlooked the entire fortress from the very center of the square, soon to be Canoness Anatolijus Nikolas stood proudly beneath his ever watchful gaze. Her armor had been crafted from the purest gold and silver admantanium, draped over with emerald and snow white robes of thick, fine silk. Her flowing long hair was an aged matte white, flat bangs falling over the heavily tanned skin of her face and gaunt, slightly sunken features. Uplifted in her hands, her golden blade shimmered and gleamed in the flaring sunlight; reflecting rays of light onto the assembled mass of the Emperor’s finest.

“Canoness Kari has passed down her role as commander of the Order of the Emperor’s Grace and I, Anatolijus Nikolas, shall do everything in my power to deliver my order, all of Tyrannus, and all of the Tarmathon Sector into an age of peace and prosperity. So that we shall once again look to the future with hopeful eyes and await the Emperor’s inevitable return.” She lowered her sword, sheathing it once again in its scabbard and greeted her comrades once more with a stern gaze.

Grixmanan bathed in the light of the sun from atop the spires of the Governor’s palace, a nation spanning fortress complex that sat at the very top of the hive city Aurelia. The structures within were not the millennia old constructs that had endured the test the time, but sleek with innovative architecture and technology. Giant asteroids and massive fleet docking stations sat above the great city just above the atmosphere. The innumerable number of ships that he could see in the skies was breath taking; regiment ferrying transport ships raising and descending through the atmosphere, accompanied with a legion of lesser vessels at their command.

The scent of rose water and flowering blossoms hung heavily in the air around the monastery, coming from the looming Jura trees and the small gardens that surrounded them. Lriean seemed somewhat impressed, though he was lying, seeing the capital palace of an entire planet belonging to the largest galactic race currently in the galaxy had to impress very much. There he stood toward the front of the congregation alongside Qu’nalan and Taryi on his left.

Beside him stood Sister Celestian Philemon Leva of the Order of the Sacred Rose. Her power armor and battle robes were a mix of black and white, which matched her braided hair, but not her youthful age. She was beaming with pride, a defiant smile on her lips and her fists curled against her chest in salute. She glanced at Lriean several times, easing the tension with a welcoming smirk before turning her attention back onto Canoness Anatolijus. She had apparently served in the Inquisition all her life, and loved to utilize her multi-melta in the heat of battle.

“Hello there, Lriean,” She spoke to him in a firm, welcoming tone, taking her hand off her chest to shake hands with the alien.

“On behalf of the Inquisition and the Order of the Sacred Rose, I bid you welcome, young alien. I only say young because you are for one of your kind.”

“Oh I see, sister, you must know all about me, being from such an agency and all.”

“Philemon Leva, which is what you may call me and only from I managed to gleam from my Inquisitor. You do not look too random or mysterious to me, young Lriean so I somewhat like you. However, to know the true heart of an alien is to give oneself over to madness, for there is no understanding.”

“I see. Someone Important recently die here?”

“Sisters from the Emperor’s Grace are mourning the loss of their Canoness. A tragic tale, a weak and frail Celestian under the name of Edessa apparently succumbed to demonic influence and murdered the former Canoness before anyone could take notice. How suspicious…”

“Indeed. That aside, I believe you know why I’m here.”

“Yes. In this dire hour, the cooperation of our two races shall uncover this mystery. If I may ask, who are these two you’ve brought with you?”

Lriean gestured for his companions to meet the Celestian, whom they did, exchanging formalities, however quaint.

“These are my comrades Taryi Nushala and Qu’nalan Elion.”

“Well met, Mon-Keigh, you warrior nuns do not look so frail and old like many of these other humans. Yet you do not resemble those ape-like space marines. Why is that?” Taryi smiled whole-heartedly and gave a slight bow before turning her attention back onto Canoness Anatolijus.

Philemon’s welcoming warmth soon vanished under a scowling and threatening look. “The battle brothers are made in the Emperor’s image, you would do well to remember that in the presence of my Inquisitor. That is, if you wish to stay off his trophy rack of successful battles waged against the alien he has earned throughout his life time.”

“Very well.” The howling banshee’s snide demeanor somewhat left and it was Philemon’s turn to smile.

“Enough of this, the sun may beat down upon my skin, but my bones are chilled in this wind and I seek shelter.” Qu’nalan hissed at both of them, interrupting them further and breaking out of line from the ceremony, marching off toward the grand monastery off in the backdrop.

“Let us waste no more time chitt-chatting then, this way aliens, I will have you meet Inquisitor Ardaran.”
*************

“Come in, come in.” Philemon waved them forward into a luxurious waiting room.

Waterfalls were pouring along great recesses within the spectacular paintings that took up the entire scope of the walls. They depicted the race of men in another time, a long forgotten era that somewhat reminded him of the fall of the Eldar. Large banners were unfurled over most of it, each one displaying the heraldry of the Imperium from across the galaxy, each part of it woven into the fabric that made the Inquisition. Glassine tables of varying sizes stood between them and the large archway leading beyond a massive Imperial Eagle. Beside the Aquila, large bronze statues stood vigilantly over this part of the monastery, probably Canonesses from another age.

Lriean held his breath in awe, taking in the calmness radiating off this place, absorbing it into his own being and enjoying the hospitality for once. Taryi suppressed a yawn; inspecting the artwork and observing a story unfold before her through these very walls. Qu’nalan occasionally indulged himself in a question to Philemon about the origins of some of the banners.

Sitting in an oval chair was a black figure, encased in flowing robes and witch helm that shone like the night in the artificial light. Fixated upon his sleek armored chest and helm were a series of crimson, semi-crystalline stones that decorated his wardrobe. Sheathed in an elegant rune sealed scabbard was a blade that only an Eldar Warlock or Seer would wield: a witch blade.

The mysterious figure and the Callidus Assassin sitting across from him turned to regard them fully as they entered. The Warlock even raised a sign of peace upon Lriean and his crew, seeing that they were indeed fellow eldar.

“I knew I had sensed something strange upon your arrival, how do my kin fare across the stars, I wonder?” A dark male voice softly intoned upon his mind, though the figure in front of him remained still and silent. Then he pointed at the young eldar, expecting some form of response.

“Home is a wayward place; full of peace and at ease in this galaxy of war, though we are not spared from it as any other of our kind. Teyl-Jhen knows some degree of peace for the time being.” Lriean answered back telepathically, exchanging the faintest of nods with the mysterious warlock before striding past him and the female assassin that sat with him.

“Good, I would not wish them to be under the heel of any other race or slowly vanishing away in some new war I have yet to hear about.”

Philemon instructed the pair of Grey Knights standing guard in front of the massive archway to open the gates. Lriean observed them push open the doors with a hiss of whining servos and an array of other gadgets within the doorway itself turn and grind into one another. They saluted the Celestian and her temporary retinue, reverting back to their immobile stances as the group pressed their way in.

“My name is Kasilienesh, go ahead and let us part ways for now. We shall meet again soon, young Lriean.”
Inquisitor Ardaran reclined into his seat, kicking his feet up on a desk filled with papers, careful not to disturb any of them. He studied Philemon, who bowed in response, then came the eldar, who he acknowledged with a slight incline of his head.

“I suppose meeting on these circumstances will have to do.” The Ordos Malleus Inquisitor gestured them to sit in front of his desk, a chair for each of them. “My name and title, dear aliens, is Inquisitor Ardaran of the Ordos Malleus, I command an army here in Aurelia, both stationed in this very location, the Governor’s very palace, and in the open space beyond. You assembled people shall become merged with this force, do not fret; I don’t expect you to be doing grunt’s work under my command. You see, I’m building a new detachment with thoughts of cooperation with the Eldar in mind. Though this detachment for the moment is only temporary, I expect your utter loyalty, common sense, and expertise in certain matters for its duration.”

“How can we help, exactly?” Lriean seemed to be the only one willing to ask questions, they were here and only here by the Council’s Orders. “We were told that you could offer us protection from the enemy without until we can accomplish our mission here and in exchange, we shall offer you aid in whatever way we can.”

Ardaran simply nodded his satisfaction at that answer, but merely shook his head. “Good, under the power of our psykers and that of our allies, we assure you not many demons can breach our defenses. I do wish to explain what role we are seeing you in so that we could benefit from each other. Our goal or our objective is simply to do a series of things: to ward off the threat of the psyker, to suffer not the heretic to live, and to serve our duty with honor and discipline. Together we’ll plunder the secrets of the world and delve into darkness together, for mutual benefit of course.”

“I am a hunter of demons, of despicable aliens that deserve nothing more than redemption from the guns of my servants, the alien, the mutant, and the heretic. Of course, the Imperium is at a truce with the Eldar race and so our inopportune meeting is both blessed and more importantly, sanctioned. To put it frankly, the goals of our nations are very similar and we can work towards those ends to solve our problems together.”

“Canoness Anatolijus is currently in command of this special detachment, you are officially now known as members of the
Ordos Malleus and will be delivered to her for your first assignment: god speed and good luck!”

Then the memories ended, it was a strange thing, her memory had become too skewed due to all the stories that alien had told her of his arrival into the Ordo Malleus. She could only see things from her point of view, but she had attempted to make sense of it all anyway.

Back to present day… on a metro train heading to an unknown destination…
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Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #4 on: March 20, 2013, 04:12:14 PM »
Chapter Two: Alumni

“I am power.”

“With your power, I am your servant.”

“I am ethereal.”

“With your blessings, I am no longer mortal.”

“I am favored.”

With your attention, I shall bring thy armies forth.”

“I am blessed by the Gods.”

“With your endless sacrifice, we pay tribute.”

“I am immortal.”

“With your benevolent wisdom, we make our endless war.”

“I am demonic.”

“With your words, we honor the Gods.”

“Through your Gods, does the galaxy burn.”


“So long as the galaxy burns in our name, I shall bestow upon you my gifts, favored mortal, and more importantly, the favor of a chosen Deity. Do not be superstitious like these slaves beneath the yolk of your nemesis. You shall know my power is real through ascendancy, the single greatest moment in your brief existence when your life suddenly becomes infinite with new possibilities. This planet still writhes in the flames of chaos even though those mortal pawns of my master, the Thousand Sons, have somewhat abandoned you now that the war has turned ill. Brave souls, I do not wish to consume your essence upon a whim, but for once in the entirety of the time I have known you do I wish to reward your twisted sense of true faith.”

Nyst had been greatly weakened over the course of the war, even though she had drank deep in the souls that had spilled from this planet into the alternate reality of the warp. She had failed to please her master, for she had found no champion worthy of leading the demonic horde upon an unsuspecting world. The mortals that dwelled upon Tyrannus’ surface had conspired against her and turned the relentless tide of the Thousand Sons aside through endless bloodshed and death. Those space marines had the option to leave, but many of the cults that had foreseen and supported their coming were not given such an option. Neither were any of the demonic entities that were only beginning to scourge the massive hive planet from bottom up. The Changer of Ways still had his eyes set upon this planet and it was her sacred duty to pick among the mortal ranks who would become the world razer.

There were a thousand other places she could be within the galaxy, but instead she found herself sitting on her hind legs, arms folded, and soulless pits staring deep into the soul of the chosen. She scoured her mind for the myriad threads of the future concerning her fate and she saw ten thousand deaths, even less triumphs in her current form, dying at the wrong side of retribution from those who would not even know her name. And yet, all of these things ended with vile rebirth, flesh being shed, another superior form taken as she joined the four Gods in their endless war.

“I cannot see your future as demonic kin, which troubles me only slightly, but it is of no concern of yours now is it, Theodora?”

“You have explained your rites of ascendancy to me and I will tell you now, while the demonic form maybe holier than our wretched flesh, it is through our birth right that humanity will rule this galaxy, not vagabond demons.”
Sorceress Theodora Kyveli sat upon a small sapphire throne fit for a mortal, dressed in ornate priestly attire that associated her with the small cabal of worshippers left within Tyrannus. Silky crimson hair around her head was woven into a series of braids, and all manner of jewelry hung from her neck and fingers in the shape of the blasphemous chaos icons. “Perhaps you should nominate yourself for ascendancy instead, after all, your current form seems to pale in comparison of greater demons.”

“I have considered it before, but doing so would banish me into the warp for a few centuries to serve beside my master. It would be most regrettable not being able to consult lost souls such you and your puppets for such a long time, why I would lose my touch.”

Nyst gazed around the assembled mass of cultists, a thousand soulless vessels all under the sway of demonic possession stood between the palace gates and Theodora and herself. They simply stood at attention like a legion of statues that had no purpose, not even deigning to listen in upon the conversation the two were having before the throne itself. In fact, only the pair of them and a dozen others in attendance probably retained their minds at all.

“At least consider the idea, Hel’xata. I have not gazed upon your true form, but I’m sure it is as magnificent as my sorcerers envisioned.” Theodora toyed with her fingernails in boredom, paying the demonic thing beside her little attention.

“Why my lady, do not trouble yourself with witnessing my true form, once either the Imperials, Eldar, or ourselves have located the lost warp gates buried somewhere on this forsaken rock of a planet, you shall see me in all my splendor.”

“In due time then, is what you’re saying?”
*************

“All passengers, be advised, we’ll be pulling into Qanatic station in a few minutes.”

Dusk: a time when the waning sun painted the skies in all those shades of red, orange, and pink. Lyria watched the clouds roll across the horizon now that the backdrop outside the metro-bus was slowly growing in clarity. The Grand Central station a top the peak of Aurelia was in reach and the mode of transportation slowly grounded to a halt as it pulled into its dock. She sat on top of the world feeling like nobility as she did so. Perhaps one of her trade counted among the wealthy nobles that resided here, despite her rigid upbringing.

The metro-bus was filled with all manner of Imperial citizens, dressed in flamboyant clothes or more pious garbs. Many of them were hefting much jewelry and radiated an aura of pompous superiority even amongst themselves. Some of them gave her odd stares, but ultimately paid her little heed. Some of the priests and hospitallers on board with their current mission had invited her to come into the grand cathedral of Saint Illyes for song and prayer which is where her current destination lies.

She removed her helmet when she stepped beyond the doors of the cramped metro-train, squinting at the soft but glaring touch of the last rays the sun had to offer. Once upon a time, she remembered fighting in these very subterranean transportation routes when she was only an initiate. The trains had been filled with scared citizens looking for refuge from the plague of un-death and with a host of fanatic sororitas who had tried to protect them. The blood shed was abhor able and brutal and she had longed to be rid of the memories for years now.

“Sister Lyria! Over here!” Hospitaller Iana was dressed in a scarlet red dress made of silk with a pure white robing that had the mark of the Hospitaller etched across the center of the fabric. Her face was vibrant with youth and vigor that Lyria remembered when she was beginning her training. She had her blonde hair swept to one side of her face and beamed a smile of welcome towards the sister of battle.

“Hospitaller Iana.” Lyria gave a slight bow, which was far more fluid in her emerald and snow white robes than it would have been in her suit of power armor. A great tome of psalms was tucked under her shoulder and a bolt pistol hanging from a leather belt tied around her hip. “A pleasure to meet you once again. And who might this be?”

“Ah,” Iana gestured to the other figure standing beside her. “This is my friend and co-worker, Brielle.”

Lyria studied the hospitaller carefully with a glint of curiosity, something was definitely off about her. Her two bionic arms glimmered even in the increasingly amount of star light, moving fluidly to fold themselves in a form of impatience. Her eyes were sterile silver and by the way they glowed, Lyria could tell her eyes were bionic or at the least enhanced as well though her ebony face seemed completely natural and unscathed. She had long black hair that spilled across her weak, artificial like shoulders and one leg that moved with a heavier clang against the steel floor of the station.

“Hello, my name is Brielle Bailen, also an assistant volunteer here at the hospitaller H.Q.” Brielle stated in a mechanical, nearly trance like state, though her voice did not seem altered by any of the bionics on her body. She extended her hand in greeting, which Lyria took up with a slight hesitation. “It is an honor to meet you, comrade.”

“You were a sororitas, once?” Lyria attempted to keep the sympathy out her face, which she concealed well.

“Once as you’ve mentioned, before my wounds had become too much to bear.” Brielle’s silver eyes clicked back and forth, taking in the surroundings of the station before her look shifted to one of slight boredom. “Lucky for me, I was able to retire from the real battles early; probably why I survived the war in the end.”

“The war has never stopped, Brielle, and you look like you can still carry a bolter to me, but if others rule you unfit to serve, I shall not be the one to persecute you for it.” Lyria uttered to the slightly surprised hospitaller with a bit of conviction in her tone. Brielle looked ultimately unfazed by her words none-the-less.

“While I assure you I can hold a weapon, I am afraid my I.Q. does not allow me to meddle with the more unappreciated minds.” Brielle stated in her matter-of-fact voice, smiling politely even as Lyria gently pulled her hand away from hers.

“And what do you appreciated minds do? Tend to the electronics?” Lyria bit back her retort a moment too late, pausing to let the insult sink in while also feigning a polite smile.

“Excuse me?” Iana’s friend muttered in mild shock, a little taken back by the sudden sting of Lyria’s tongue and suddenly wanting to shift the conversation from the awkward topic. “I meant no insult, comrade, perhaps we should simply go to the cathedral and pray like we intended.”

“Yes, let us do that.” Lyria nodded her agreement, accepting the sudden change in subject. “Iana, if you would lead the way.”

“Of course.” Iana tried not to grimace at the two of them. “It is up these stairs just outside the station.”
******************

The raised voices of Saint Illyes echoed throughout the entirety of the ancient cathedral, resonating within its rose petal littered floors and golden walls. The words of song that they sung as one reached the highest pulpits and the very back of the building where the entrance lay. Lyria bathed in their angelic voices, singing the ancient and revered psalms along with the choir as if she was one amongst their number. Brielle and Iana were singing in praise as well, the former of those two sung with surprisingly unhindered grace considering her body’s condition. Lyria supposed it was something to rejoice in.

Ameni sat beside her in the pews with a large cigar in between her lips. She expelled a mouthful of smoke that smelled quite unpleasant compared to the rich odor the incense and rose water left hanging in the air. She did not seem too preoccupied with the choir’s event, but was far more interested in keeping an eye on the strange figure that sat in between the two
adeptus sororitas.

“Ah, this is so relaxing, it is a lot different from home, but I love how you humans come together and share this belief that your Emperor shall one day return. It is somewhat like what we believe in with our god that one day they will be rebirthed.” Lriean gave a light shrug at the unpleasant stares he received from the rest of the group. 

“It would be best not bringing up your heathen gods in this holy shrine alien, you forget your place.” Sister Ameni repeated a polite line she had learned to say whenever Lriean began to get on her nerves. “We do not wish to hear anything but His name in this sanctuary, only his and no other.”

“Suit yourself; these other two that you’ve brought with you look like they’ve never laid eyes upon an alien before though. Don’t worry; it’s only unnerving me a little bit.” Lriean feigned a polite smirk for the two hospitallers, who nodded apologetically.

“Excuse us, but we have not seen one before, it is somewhat intriguing, but I feel revulsion deep in my soul for anything less than human. It’s just so unnatural.” Brielle continued to observe the strange alien with a look of minor fascination and uncertain calculations.

“You know wearing those clothes doesn’t make you look like one of us, right?” Iana glared at the Eldar dressed in an Imperial Commissar’s suit, trench coat, and hat. “Why did you even chose to dress like that?”

“Thank the Emperor, someone in their right minds for once.” Lryia sighed, beginning to mouth the words of prayer instead of singing them.

“Hey, as a leader of this expedition and as part of a cooperation of Imperial and Eldar scientific teams and mercenary squads outside of the Inquisition: I find that humans are far more comfortable when aliens look the part of an Imperial leadership role. It earns so much more respect than anyone else just doing their own thing out in the galaxy. Am I right?” Lriean took up his own cigar and brought it to light, inhaling a lungful of toxic smoke before exhaling it back out in a thick cloud.

“You are not the leader of this archeological expedition, alien, you are merely one who we may require expertise from while we follow our guides.” Lyria snorted with a small amount of disgust.

“Hmmm, which is why I acquired squad Averticus to be my bodyguard for the duration of this exploration effort instead of some average Imperial guard, surely?” Lriean feigned a look of general confusion before going back to his confident smirk. 

“Our squad protects you because normal guard would probably have little tolerance for alien minds and their ways. We are far more disciplined and keep our ultimate goals in mind.” Ameni exhaled a puff of smoke through her nostrils, kicked her feet up on the pew in front of her and made herself comfortable.

“Oh, I’ve worked with many Imperials in my travels across the galaxy, they are not too bad. Sure we avoid anything that doesn’t honor the truce between mankind and eldar, but those places are few and far in between.” Lriean smiled his genuine smile at the pair of Sororitas and hospitallers. “Such things aside though, I hope your squad is ready to protect me if things go wrong down in the under city. I assured your Inquisitor that my team could protect itself, but when Nyst finally tracks us down, we’ll need some aid.”

“Don’t worry about us, if the demons come for you, we will gladly feed them you instead of us.” Lyria smiled fiendishly. “Sister Iana and Brielle, I trust that you will be joining us in our medical facilities if not our medic teams?”

“We shall not be accompanying you on your journey, but expect to see us if you are wounded.” Iana spoke cheerily, closing her holy book and beginning to stand alongside Brielle. “Sister Lyria, Sister Ameni, and alien Commissar Lriean, it has been worth the time to meet your acquaintances, but we should be leaving. Emperor guide you all.”

“Goodbye.” Lyria and Ameni bowed their heads slightly, speaking as one.

“Until next time.” Lriean sighed. “Isha guide your way.”
***********

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Offline Sheepz

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #5 on: March 20, 2013, 05:53:25 PM »
Looking good so far.

I'm seeing characters from the Relic Hunter story, but I'm a bit pushed for time at work and struggling to make the two connect. Anyway, good to see them back. I like it when people re-use or reference previous characters, it gives me something to look back on.

Keep up the good work!

Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #6 on: March 20, 2013, 10:17:00 PM »
Thanks, Sheepz ;D!

Yeah, this is basically a new version of the Relic Hunter which I never got around to finishing. I'm here to rectify that  8). This story doesn't necessarily intertwine with the Relic Hunter though, if that's what you're trying to connect(though they are really very similar,), but the idea of that does make me curious ;D. I guess we'll just have to see where the story goes from here!

 
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Re: The New Word
« Reply #7 on: April 1, 2013, 09:31:46 PM »
“What do you think of Sister Lyria?” Iana asked innocently, she was never for reading minds or thoughts hidden away in expressions.

“That is what you choose to ask me? After our session of prayer?” Brielle cocked an eyebrow at her from the other side of the bed.

The medical chamber was a sleek stark white and sterile as one would expect. It was not a large area of space, only able to fit in a dozen beds at the maximum with enough space to work in. All of the patient beds were empty, save for one, a charming Cadian from the one of the famed Kasrkin squads sat in that one. His clothes were stripped save a pair of sky blue medical pants and he sported a number of wounds on his chest and ribcage.

Iana was sitting down by his side, spraying a healing agent that knit his wounds and covered the scars from where they had finished their work before. Brielle was standing over the surgeon’s apparatus controls, working a group of three bulky mechanical machine arms that drilled, severed, stitched, reconnected, and ultimately healed the wounds on his body.

“What else is there to ask?” Iana shrugged, motioning for the guard to remain as still as possible while she responded lamely.

“I am unsure,” Brielle said flatly. “Perhaps you should ask what kind of mission she must be going on to require an alien’s aid and why the alien requires full time protection from her and her comrades? I mean, the Inquisition must have their priorities in some kind of mess if this pointless show of cooperation is their state of affairs.”

“Indeed, I apologize, I did not think it too important to discuss, and he’s probably just a pawn in the Inquisitor’s eyes, though Ardaran is a bit of a radical.” Iana carefully observed one of the machine arms clench a piece of broken bone on his partially exposed ribcage and force it back into place. The Guardsmen winced.

“We’ll be proceeding to knit your bones back together shortly, John.” Brielle smirked at the Cadian before turning her attention partly back onto Iana.

“What do you think they’ll attempt to do? We’ve already pushed out the Thousand Sons, despite our planet still being in the midst of an uprising and demonic invasion. Maybe they’ll stop it somehow.”

“I can only hope. Try not to break the bone off or he’ll be in here for a couple of more months.” Iana sprayed the healing agent over a cauterized wound in his arm, making it vanish in mere moments.

“You two talking about that alien the Inquisitor hired?” John stifled a groan as the machine arms went to work on re-connecting his ribcage. “He’s been with us for a while now, you two must be new.”

“Are you a part of Operation Divinity? I wasn’t aware there was any Guard.” Iana placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

“Yeah, there are three thousands of us working under the Inquisitor. Only the most seasoned veterans are allowed to fight under his command, we also got a company of Space Marines and most of the Order of the Emperor’s Grace.” John clenched his teeth as the arms around him continued to work diligently.

“They don’t tell the new Hospitallers very much, now do they?” Brielle smiled warmly and Iana sighed in acceptance.

“I forget what we’re looking for, some kind of relic the Thousand Sons were originally seeking for or a way to stop this uprising of Chaos. We mostly go ruin delving somewhere in the under city, it’s pretty dangerous work. There’s all type of stuff down their now, but that’s what the xeno is: he’s an alien relic hunter.”

“Commissar Lriean?” Iana uttered with a look of skepticism, glancing at Brielle to see a look of intrigue in her eyes.

“I think his pain suppression medication dose is too high.” The blonde haired Hospitaller responded, who turned down the dose of the morphine equivalent forty thousand years in the future.

“That’s what they say he is.” John’s expression was completely stoic and serious. “We just know him and his team as one of the envoys of a Craftworld, he knows how to fight and he is pretty valued because he knows what to look for. He was raised on an Imperial world initially, second class citizen, the poor alien bastard. That’s about all I know of him though,”

“If that’s true then it’s no wonder he dresses the way he does, I wonder what he looks like in an alien suit of armor?” Brielle carefully worked the machine arm further up from the initial crack in his bones, working her way up to the next one when she was convinced it had been repaired.

“Oh Emperor, probably several degrees more foolish than he does now.” Iana answered with a strange sense of dread.

“That goes without saying. Hey Iana, perhaps they’ll reassign us to the standby medical teams on one of these missions.” Brielle showed a fraction of enthusiasm for once, a bounce in her work.

“We could use a couple of girls like you two to make our day brighter.” John smiled his wolfish grin, eyeing his wounds with a sense of relief to see progress.

“Don’t get your hopes up, John, if the next fight is anything like the Superiors mentioned before, soldiers like you will be pouring in here one after the other. How did you sustain injuries like this anyway?”Iana couldn’t help but interrogate him a little, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Oh this, just a few las-bolts and a giant mace, a cultist did it. He fought like the warp possessed him or something, his eyes were blood red and he was dressed in body armor and some strange robes. Bastard took a ton of shots before he finally went down. Ow!”

“Sorry.” Both of the medics mumbled apologetically.
------------------------


“The first words I breathed as a child cradled in my forgotten mother’s arms, the Gods first spoke to me then. I could hear their whispers on the edge of my mind, teaching to stand upright, to walk with pride or perhaps hubris even though they are one of same. I channeled power through this ancient vessel I have been gifted through genetics; I can still trace my blood line back to cities of Prospero.

The Gods, when the Thousand Sons came they began to call my name, chanting it like I was their future champion, the embodiment of all that was wrong in the universe. Well, not all, the brothers told me the voices belonged to a great eye in the warp, one that welcomed my gifts and was proud of the schemes I could inter-connect and spawn as my prowess grew. Through them, I learned to use the darker powers to my disposal.

Into the maw of hell I went to pursue my destiny appointed to return to the galaxy one day, dawning the crown or power that told the others that I was fit to command. Here I sit, in ruins that are not my home world, but on a pitiful planet that will soon be razed in our return.

Mortal, I can see it blazing in your gaze, that unwavering devotion; I know you want this, the power. Merely call upon it and it will bow before you. Tread with the demonic when you walk and the way shall be clear. Remember that your soul does not belong to me, I am not your master, but the demon who you allowed into your mortal flesh is. Flesh is weak and yet the purest form of ascension, one rules the galaxy that will one day be inherited through his humanity. There is power in damnation, but is a fickle and tragic mistress that will transform you into a shadow of your former glory. We extend our hand to aid the Gods and in turn they aid us, but like all things that are fickle, they are best served as tools of use instead of divine providence. A means to an end:

To be reborn, one must sacrifice.

To be favored, one must align themselves accordingly.

To be marked, one must please the Gods, whatever their whims.

To be guided, one must be blind.

To be anointed, one must bow.

To be ascended, one must fall into corruption.

Honor the Lord of Change!”

...

“Lyria!? Ameni!? Are you in there!?”

A sudden barrage of knocks on her door stirred her out of an all too brisk slumber and Lyria’s oceanic  eyes eventually fluttered open. She found herself lying in a bed draped in the finest materials. Beside her was another empty one that looked undisturbed. Ameni was sitting at her desk, busy reading scripture and managing to pry her eyes away from it just as Lyria had awoken.

“Who the hell is this?” Ameni whispered to no one in particular, standing up from her desk and beginning to stalk across the barrack dormitory room with a disturbed look.

Glistening sunlight poured through a crystal clear window pane that took up the entire left wall, displaying only a very large portion of glittering Grixmanan and some of Aurelia’s tallest spires in the backdrop. The room they were in was not Spartan, not fashioned for a military existence fit for the common man. Three bookshelves lined the walls over a pair of desks fashioned from refined wood of the finest mahogany, filled with all sorts of knowledge on the Imperium of man, its heroes, and its foes.

Golden Aquila hung all around the room, pinning great banners and other symbols of heraldry in place so that they fluttered in the mild breeze caused by the air conditioning. Ornate weapons, those not meant to bring retribution to any given foe were held on large racks in between their beds, a sharp contrast to the auburn colored marble that comprised the floors.

Ameni pressed a sole button on the wall and there was a slight hiss of machinery in response. The door unlocked and soon slid open, revealing a bright and cheery face.

“Oh, Sister Superior! Uhh, Karyiake isn’t it?”

“Indeed Sister, if I may enter your dorm for a short while?”

“Of course, ma’am, right this way.”Ameni stepped aside for the veteran member of the Sororitas, who stepped into the room and greeted the two of them with a gracious smile.

“Sister Ameni and Sister Lyria, I bid you greetings on behalf of the Seraphim. You’re probably wondering why I came here today, especially on such short notice.” Karyiake cleared her throat and cast an expecting glance at Lyria, who was still sleep addled and lying in her bed as if she had suddenly taken ill.

“Forgive my manners, Superior, I was not expecting guests.” Lyria threw off
the blanket and clambered up to her feet in her white gown.

“As I was saying, I know Squad Averticus has been diligent in their duties in protecting the Inquisitor’s guest, and that position holds no small amount of honor. Your Superior Meril has been telling me all about your latest exploits, nothing too interesting in the past months I see.” Karyiake took a moment to admire the view outside, watching the bulky structures of the fortress-complex radiate with a holy glimmer. “I was just wondering if you two would like to join me on a heretic hunt. Your Superior says you have talent, but she says your ability to kill is waning with the passing of each day. Perhaps you two had spent too much time with these aliens and though that is not your fault, maybe you could use a reminder of what it means to serve in the Emperor’s army.”

“What kind of heretic hunting?” Ameni appeared somewhat concerned at her officer’s words, taking in the information with a demoralized look. “Just a simple kill mission, capture a target?”

“It would be no different or more dangerous than a simple assault on an enemy held position and execute a high priority target. Keep in mind that it does pertain to our current mission, so it will be dangerous, your lives placed at great risk, but you two are still new and have not fought with army of the Adeptus Sororitas as a whole. It is time we assigned you to a full tactical squad, away from your fellow initiates.” Karyiake looked to Lyria with a polite small, but with no small amount of expectation.

“Why we would be honored to accept this promotion, Karyiake.” Lyria bowed deeply and Ameni followed suit, allowing Lyria to wisp the words out of her mouth.

“Very good, you are no longer part of Squad Averticus, we’ll be assigning you to duty with Sister Superior Koralia and her squad of thirteen, soon to be fifteen. Prepare to be tested Sisters, the coming days like these are rarely easy. Do well and we may assign you to more specialized roles, one can only know where one’s talents lie through endless testing. Anyway, we’ll be heading out in a day or two, if you would report to Koralia by then that would be good. You may find her in the training grounds from ten to twelve in the morning and noon. But I digress, I must take my leave now, Emperor bless you two.” The Seraphim Squad Commander left without another word, leaving the pair of dumbstruck new bloods to their own devices.

“Great.” Lyria’s friend hissed when the doors fixed shut. “Oh, would like join us in our own little hell pit we have burning down in the under city!? The only thing these types of crusades remind me of is endless death and burning corpses.”

“It is a pious woman who decides to burn the bodies of heretics; Emperor knows what kind of taint they have. That and it makes me feel a lot better about myself, you truly achieve victory when you round up the enemy dead and start a bon-fire.” Lyria blinked the tiredness out of her gaze, immediately throwing open her closet and beginning to scrounge through her wardrobe.

“You want to smoke outside?”

“Sure I could use one.”
--------------

EDIT: I do have more to put up, but I forgot the whole no double posting rule when I was planning to divide them into two post -_-. Oh well, the rest will be up in a few days.
« Last Edit: April 17, 2013, 06:58:44 PM by MyenTal »
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Re: The New Word
« Reply #8 on: April 16, 2013, 01:01:58 AM »
EDIT: I forgot to put a previous part that came before this one, just scroll up and you'll see it :).

Okay, I actually have a few updates to post up, so I'll try to put up when I can since I can't post it all at once. Without further ado ;D:

Somewhere deep within the Under City…

“My sisters, be brave in the face of death and it will give you two outcomes: either an honorable embrace or a glorious victory. May the Emperor choose your fate wisely in his wisdom.”


The Mataxis Highway cut a deep swathe into lower Aurelia, the assembled might of the Order of the Emperor’s Grace and the Imperial Guard Cadian Regiment dispatched by Inquisitor Ardaran crossed the grand bridge of Alusis, descending down a long and endless ramp until it had finally curved off into one of the outlying districts that sat above the usual murk and darkness of the rest of Aurelia’s founding quarters.

The highway was about ten lanes thick, split into two for ingoing and outgoing traffic. The armored column of the Ordos Militant was spread across the incoming lane in three separate convoys that stretched back toward the bridge of Alusis. Valkyries and other fighters swept ahead of the mustered military fist of the Imperium into the midst of the urban jungle that would soon swallow them whole in their flight forwards. Orbital bombardments coordinated by Imperial armadas above their target location had left entire swathes of the outlying buildings in smoking craters and ruins and yet much of the area remained unscathed by the touch of war; despite whatever may have befallen the populace in the open streets beforehand.

Lyria listened carefully to Sister Superior Anthanasia’s words over the loud speaker in the Rhino transport with a placid expression. Their squad leader was not actually among them, but among the other nine sisters in squad Angelikii. The group was forced to be divided into two vehicles of transportation, being a squad of fifteen and Rhinos only capable of holding ten passengers. That left Lyria and Ameni in with three other faces she did not recognize and one of them was up on the heavy bolter turret at the top of the Rhino hatch.

“They say that this area is ruled by a witch with a power of extreme magnitude, such myths should be put aside and simply said that they are real instead of fearing them in such a superstitious fashion. For today that witch is our target and she will die or be taken alive before the day is done.” Alexandra said dryly, waiting beside the hatch with a look of nervous anticipation. She was not Anthanasia’s second in command, but she fancied herself in charge of the small group while the ride lasted.

“I heard that she commands an army to protect her estate, one of the cults that had thrown their weight in with the Thousand Sons. Surely, they must’ve been reduced to rubble by now!?” Ameni shouted at Alexandra over the belching roar of the Rhino’s engines.

“Oh why Sister, that would ruin the whole point of the sport!  There would be no need to mobilize an entire wing of the army if things were so simple!” Nomiki suppressed a yawn as the Rhino pressed on, the sound of bombs detonating and las-cannons and other heavy gear rattling in the background un-fazing her.

The two of them radiated a confidence that seemed to originate from within, appearing fearless and ready for battle in equal measure. Lyria had not heard them brag of their battles though if the past was anything to go by, sometimes there wasn’t much of anything to brag about.

The four Sororitas looked up at the sound of their Rhino’s heavy bolter opening up a torrent of fire and the speed of the armored column gaining in momentum. Not long after, a sharp whistle mostly blotted out by the thick steel plating of the transport was heard for a moment, followed by the crash of an impact then a thunderous explosion. Everyone grabbed their weapons and stood to their feet as Melina came clambering down the ladder a moment later, following the full stop of the Rhino.

“We spotted an enemy air-craft, we’re here! Alexandra drop the hatch!”
A bright wave of sunlight swept through the cramped interior of the rumbling vehicle, hitting Lyria and her companion’s eyes with a blinding glare.

“Be careful, we have a short walk yet to go until we reach the gates of the target. Let’s go! Out of the vehicle!”

Alexandra was the first to storm down the ramp, followed by Nomiki, and then Ameni. Lyria strode out behind them, taking in the endless maze of structures boxing them in. When she stepped out into the sun’s embrace two groups of half-naked, crazed chain sword wielding Repentia Squads were rushing past her and her squad mates, being whipped into a fury beneath the lashes of their slave drivers. Their heads were mostly shaven and they were literally covered in rags, Lyria knew that cannon fodder such as them would not last the hunt, however mediocre their opponents may seem.

“Squad Angelikii, meet up on the other side of the highway!” A voice blocked off by their transport echoed over the commotion of the disembarking elements of both the Adeptus Sororitas and the Imperial Guard. Only the first hundred or so were amassing this closely towards their target, the rest would still have to be carried in when further progress was made.

The Exorcist artillery tanks were already beginning to pull up into position on the other side of the highway as a mass of troops being disgorged road work as well. Their guns were silent as there was no need for them until the real battle had kicked up in pace. Basilisk began to fall into formation behind them as Cadians, both Kasrkin and regular infantry began moving forward at a brisk jogging pace. They would have to move faster if they wished to catch up with the forces of the Order.

“Holy Throne, look at that!” Alexandra pointed up to a point in the sky, far off in the distance, where the clouds began to part and evaporate. A few moments later, large pillars of energy began to rain down from the gaping wound in the sky in a slow, yet relentless succession upon Aurelia’s fragile surface. There was a brief flash of unbelievably blinding light, followed by a backlash so strong that entire sky scrapers simply disintegrated in the fallout.

The earth quaked beneath the wake of destruction and soon enough, Anthanasia and the rest of the squad came striding out of the ash blackened air unaware of the force besetting them. She beckoned the rest of her team to come forward and they did, merging into the core of the first wave only beginning to move further into the off beaten paths leading away from the highway and closer to their objective.

“Let’s move, at a quick pace, but don’t tire yourselves too quickly.” Their Superior ordered, leading by example and running down the exit ramp leading into a series of splendorous palaces and estates of the ruling noble class that held this region of the hive city in their grasp.

Lyria and Ameni were moving forward side by side, watching even more of the Repentia squads rush past to screen them from any ambushes or assaults that may surprise them. Large hulking machinery in the form of skeletal Pentient Engines stampeded by them on hissing pistons to support the chafe of the Ordos Militant branch. Lyria carefully studied the white robed sinners chained to the body of the machine, each limb moving a larger, deadlier counterpart that could bring death to countless enemies if it were protected.

“These streets should be unoccupied or so our recon and intelligence say, but there will be a lack of fighting here anyway. I know you sisters are used to the merciless scraps in city streets, but our objective sits in the very middle of a recreational forest park. It’ll be nothing but trees, a few winding paths, and one fortified complex from here on out. Good luck to all of you, which extends especially to our newcomers.” Anthanasia inclined her head toward Lyria and Ameni with a gracious smile before she addressed the entire squad again. “Guide these lost souls to their most deserved judgment! Show no mercy, for there is no hope to those who freely give their souls to false, cruel gods! For the Emperor!”

“Rebuke the Heretic!”
-----------
« Last Edit: April 17, 2013, 07:21:22 PM by MyenTal »
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Re: The New Word
« Reply #9 on: April 19, 2013, 10:38:21 PM »
Yo, if you haven't noticed yet, I forgot to upload a specific part that was supposed to come before the last part I had put up! So, you should check it out, it's right above the previous post.

-------

Teshkeran wood was glimmering in the midday sun, warming the dense foliage and nurturing it till it stood on edge to bask in its soft glare. The serpent shaped creeks and river banks were flowing gently through the endless miles of wilderness that had enveloped them

“Remember, silence is the key, they must know that we’re approaching, but if we mask our strike, it will still be unexpected.”

Lyria listened to the soft howling of the breeze, picking up feint whispers on its trail for only a second before they dissipated all together, carried away to other attentive ears. She carefully maneuvered through the bed of exotic flowers with an aura of stealth that seemed lacking due to her bulky armor. It was slender and tight fitting compared to a Space Marine, but for an average human it weighed her down far more than it would seem. The whining servos incorporated in her suit allowed her to move truly free and aided her in her attempt to creep through the wood with all lack of sound.

She weaved through the trees and dense foliage up a very steep hill, picking out the shapes of other Sororitas doing something similar as they moved at the tip of the spearhead. Aside from the occasional snap of twigs, only the sounds of flowing waters and chirping birds disturbed the serene backdrop that they now found themselves in.

Lyria listened to Anthanasia speaking to one of the other superiors in the battle group through her comm. bead. They made no attempts to keep their little chat private and appeared to have no qualms about doing so. They were exchanging words on how best to approach what would be inevitably awaiting their arrival at the very peak of the hillside.

“We should order an artillery barrage and send the guardsmen up there until they choke on endless dead: our own and theirs.”

“We shouldn’t risk an artillery barrage until we find a wall of enemy resistance that we’re hard pressed to break through. We should test the defenses first before we begin lashing our blindly at our foes and letting them know we’re here.”

“They already know, we’ve made no attempt to mask our force until now, surely the arch enemy has better eyes than their letting on.”

“Point taken, but I prefer we take first blood for ourselves. It is one of the joys of the hunt.”

“I won’t stop you in your righteous wrath, Anthanasia, but I would rather spare us the loss of unnecessary casualties.”

“Oh hells fine, send the guardsmen up and we’ll follow on their heels.” 


Lyria cursed under her breath, not much was visible through the tree line, save the peaks of a few spiraling silver-white towers and a rather large barricade of unadorned steel that rose up to half the height of largest trees. The wall had many slits in it, firing points, which told Lyria that it was an advantageous position that could hold Cultists within and at the walls lip. The defensive structure was divided into small bulwarks by massive, closed pipes that bulged from the otherwise flat and uninteresting surface. There appeared to be no defensive weapon emplacements anywhere within sight and the entire complex seemed vulnerable if it was protected at all.

None-the-less, the decision was to exercise caution and for now they would have to carefully probe the outer defenses with a careful advance of Imperial Guard. A small battalion of men came rushing up the snaking trails and steps leading up through the woods and towards the undefended bulwark. They quickly formed loose rings around the entire proximity of the premises in front of the Adeptus Sororitas, commanded to move forward with a word echoed from their own chain of command.

“They’d be foolish to leave no guards to fend off an assault. What trickery is being played out here?” Ameni was suddenly by her side, crouching in the small undergrowth while Lyria pressed her back against the reassuring bark of a tall redwood.

“Perhaps they have too few to defend us off effectively. Either way, we still need to find a way through these barricades. They’ll have to send in an aerial strike force to open the way for us, that or we’re climbing up those walls.”

“Very observative, Sister Lyria, but if you would please close your frakking mouth!” Anthanasia shushed the pair of Sororitas with a vehement whisper, turning back towards the Imperial Guard and focusing her concentration of the defenses they were attempting to breach. “And don’t forget, we can always breach the gates with Krak grenades, we just have to see if anyone will object to us doing so.”

The Guardsmen camouflaged with their surroundings far more than the Sororitas did in their beige and khaki uniforms melding into the backdrop and making the Sisters seem alone in their emerald and snow white heraldry. There were about a hundred advancing on squad Angeliki’s side of the wall and they were quickly approaching the range to scale it or assault the gate.

“Let’s move in closer behind the guard, we need to be there in case all hell breaks loose.” Angelikii’s leader gestured her grunts to advance and so they did, they approached so close to the wall that they could easily pick off any foes that sought to take them by surprise within it. “Keep your weapons trained on that wall.”

The Imperial infantry began to relax the closer they moved towards the unmanned defense, practically striding out of the wood when they realized that there was no sinister ambush waiting for them.

At least one they could see.


Post Merge: April 21, 2013, 03:05:34 PM
In the future, please use the modify button. Double posting is against the forum rules, and for that reason, the system merged your posts.

The bulging pipes that had been so complacent beforehand immediately popped open and unfurled menacing twin-linked heavy bolter and missile turrets automated by either patient servitors or a calculating A.I. The anti-infantry turrets immediately opened up with a barrage of lethal fire that cut a bloody swathe through the unsuspecting guard. They ejected a hundred casings in a few seconds, rattling constantly as they tracked their deadly gazes back and forth. Those lucky enough to survive not being reduced to scraps hastily dashed back into the cover of the woods.

The missile turrets were tracking a different kind of prey, locking on to the still forms of the Sisters of Battle and sending a salvo of missiles into their source of cover. Some were caught out in the open, losing limbs to violent explosions as if shells had landed amongst them. Trees splintered and collapsed in the wake of the destruction, a vain attempt to force their targets out into the open.

Lyria peaked out from cover to spy mysterious figures suddenly materializing at the firing slits inside the wall. They were all masked with blank faced helms and were dressed in silver and sapphire robes outfitted with what seemed to be segmented Carapace armor. Their weapons spat a ripple of violet, withering las-fire and she could immediately classify them as modified hell-guns.

The Repentia came out of hiding to absorb the sudden tirade of muzzle flashes, driven by their cruel slave drivers into the fray. Small groups of them went down to the heavy fusillade before they eventually gritted their teeth and began to fall into cover in and around the rank and file.

“Heavy weapons, move to the front, I want those turrets out of commission! The rest of you, pick off those cultists!” Anthanasia raised her bolt pistol and fired at a clutch of cultists that had taken position at the very top of the wall, taking pot-shots with their snipers before disappearing behind the wall again. “We need more Guardsmen up here!”

One of the Repentia around Lyria sagged against what was now a shattered stump, leaking all manner of viscera and fluids from the gaping wound in her head. A stray bullet took a member of another squad through her exposed neck joint and exited through the back of her spine. She fell over paralyzed to do anything as her sisters exchanged fire with their assailants.

Missiles exited from large tubes carried by experienced guardsmen and streaked out towards the butchering turret weapons. Weapons were partially shredded and torn from their mounts and other weapon emplacements went up in a blaze as their ammunition cooked off. Grenade Launchers dispensed their deadly payload to explode against the bulwark defending their objective, taking out the occasional group of Cultists here and there only to be replaced a moment later.

“Suppressing fire, suppressing fire!” A hail of las-fire erupted from the surrounding trees and hit the wall like a deadly tide. Cultists lurched away from the open firing ports, reappearing again whenever the fire slackened and renewing their attack.

“We knew they’d be dug in deep! Send word for the Seraphim to mobilize!” An unfamiliar voice commanded over the comm-bead linking each unit in the Order into a seamless communication network. Only the Superior’s voices could be heard at the moment unless someone specifically tapped into the channel. The screams of the less fortunate were blotted out that way.

“Gates opening!” Alexandra shouted through her V.O.X. grill, amplified over the crescendo of war as she pointed to the massive double door gates of thick steel slowly creeping open.

“Canoness, this is Superior Diamantia Anthanasia of Squad Angelikii, reporting an opening at the gates! The enemy maybe attempting to sally out against us!”

“Understood, all squads keep an air of caution about you; prepare to annihilate anything that comes out beyond those walls!”

The gates were fully peeled back by the time of the Canoness’ words and the air was filled with a loud rumbling and the grinding of treads as a column of armored vehicles came pushing out into the loyalist formations. Spearheading the advance were three huge Leman Russ Demolishers outfitted with plasma cannons for main guns and sponsons followed by a convoy of Chimera transports eight deep. They drove out onto the winding path that the Imperials had followed up to this point, guns blazing as they penetrated the loose screen of infantry and sought to drive them out of hiding.

The plasma cannons on the battle tanks fired at different angles, unleashing a scathing blast of pure energy into the sparse woods, immolating dense foliage and burning away large gaps in the surrounding redwoods. Even power armor could stand little against the unstable energy and sloughed off their bearers in a molten river of admantanium, leaving the withering forms of sisters to melt away in split second flashes of sapphire light.

The Imperial Guard were fairing even worse against the tracking multi-lasers on either side of the Chimeras, scattering as they cut through the bushes they hid within and puncturing the tree line with deadly precision.  They responded with a flurry of missiles that battered and tore through mechanical beasts with reckless abandon. The orange fire of the multi-meltas soon lit the air, parting armor like butter and immolating the crews within. One of the Demolishers had been reduced to a smoldering wreck while the other two battered the husk out of their path, firing with some degree of marksmanship. The four Chimeras left in the aftermath responded by dropping their ramps and disgorging a mass of heavily armored troops branded with the marks of Chaos.

“Contacts!”

“If you’re not in cover, find some quickly!” Nimiki lifted her melta and fired a stream of super-heated liquid energy at one of the Cultists diving into the forest. The blast easily punched through the tree he had leapt behind and in turn reduced him to atoms.

“Reposition, take out those Cultists!” 

Las-fire rippled in great waves around the forest and Lyria could feel some of them honing in around her; she would have to tread carefully. She leaned out from the massive redwood she was stranded behind, drilling one of the arch-enemy with three bolter shells to the chest. Armor around his chest exploded into fragments, but the majority held and his wounds seemed minor. Finally becoming aware of the Sororitas, he raised his hell-gun and fired a couple shots off before approaching closer to Angelikii’s position.

“Throwing frag!” Ameni shouted, tossing a loose grenade amongst the squad of cultists coming into her range. There was a deafening cough, followed by a choir of screams that was music to her ears.

Sister Sofia went down with a shrill scream, body chewed up by another turret that had suddenly found her. Anthanasia gestured for Nomiki,
Alexandra, and another sister Lyria failed to recognize to break off and deal with the defensive weapon emplacements themselves. Smoke screens went up towards the wall and the trio of battle nuns set off uphill until they dissipated in the grey wall of smoke.

“Get the Repentia into position and assault those cultists!” Anthanasia cursed through gritted teeth, drawing her chainsword as a foe suddenly leapt into her guard with twin sabers. 

The masked assailant moved fluidly in his robes and carapace, slashing left to right with well-timed strikes that indicated practiced martial prowess. The Sister Superior easily ducked under a decapitating blow and parried the second with an upwards thrust, pulling her bolt pistol from its holster as her assailant instinctively stepped backwards. She pulled the trigger once and relished in the powerful recoil against her gloved hand, an arrogant smirk on her lips as she punched a small crater into the left side of his chest.

The Cultist cried out in outrage in alarm, lashing out with a sideswipe following a one-eighty spin aimed for the neck. Anthanasia’s death flashed briefly before her eyes before one of her sisters came to her aid, sparing her the decapitation by driving a knife through his neck. Her foe responded by hurling one of her grunts off of him with superior strength,  falling upon her sprawled form knee first and sinking both of his blades  into the joints around her waist.

“No! Damn Heretics! The sudden squeal of agony brought her out of her momentary daze and yet another bullet dispensed from her pistol’s chamber, striking her opponent in the back of his head and spilling his brain matter rather messily over the forest floor. She caught the strange combatant with her arm, holstered her pistol and proceeded to rip the helmet off to reveal the face of the one who had come so close to delivering her a death blow.

“Ugh, possessed, I should have known better!” The face was incredibly pale, but devoid of any emotion akin to physical pain whatsoever, his blood filled eyes stared back with anguish and a strange sense of = agony as well as utter hatred. His blood was as foul as it smelled and she dropped the corpse with disgust and turned back to the injured subordinate that had rescued her. “Sister Mari, get a medic up here and see to it that he cleans Chrysa up.”

“Yes Superior! Medic!!!”

“Cultists closing in around us!” Lyria exchanged fire with a pair of armed Storm Troopers, nailing one between the eyes and grazing the other’s shoulder. A few traces of laser fire punched into her superior armor and she fell back into the protection of the tree.

A revving of chainswords signaled reinforcements from the Repentia and the thunderous cracking of heavy bolters gave away the Retribution squads moving up steadily from behind as they fired away. There was strong breeze of wind, but not a natural one, Lyria suddenly gazed up to see figures flying on trails of flame above the sparse canopy of trees, eventually landing behind the great barricade that was keeping them at bay.

“Counter-attack, Sisters! I want to be one of the first behind the Seraphim into that palace!”
-----------------------
« Last Edit: April 21, 2013, 03:05:34 PM by MyenTal »
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Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #10 on: April 24, 2013, 10:24:41 PM »
“Oh do I enjoy the eyes of those who are naïve to the true ways of the Universe, constantly fixed in horror as they bear witness to the endless spiral of debauchery that consumes those that follow me. It’s so… elegant, the way that each act of the play hinges loose just a fraction of their sanity, opening their minds up to me in full transparency before it is said and done and the stage closes after one final encore. But the encore never ends, now does it? For every thousand souls transfixed on our every whim, born in madness, born in sadness, there is tenfold waiting to be shown… life’s true pleasures.

Oh Slaneesh, Prince of Pleasures, Queen of Excess, for your entertainment I dance my dance upon the world, flaying skins day by day, uplifting souls to your absolute delight! Take them in exchange for your favor, for all I wish are the eyes of the Seer who flirts with both time and space, reality and the other dimensions, and who sees the future infinitely before them! Give me the eyes of those that see, and yet are blind!

For it is through the eyes of the Seer that I shall fall upon the ilk that I so desire with tooth and claw!”


“Speak his name, Mistress, you have dabbled in the arts, but I find this strange! Your possessed do not worship, they do not sacrifice, but have paid the ultimate price for a sub par reward! Benefits you all the more, Mistress!” Xag’rish twirled on the tips of her toes on one leg in a fluid movement that reminded Theodora of an Ice skater, the other leg lifted parallel with the rest of her body as she danced so unnaturally it made the Priestess shiver.

The Demonette seemed very familiar in one aspect; she had a very minor appearance that made her seem like a whelp compared to most of her kin. The Herald of Slaneesh was very lithe and tall, her skin smooth lavender, but became increasingly scaly and horned around her facial features. She had a feral beauty to her, containing a grace and lacking in the horrid appearance that put most of her ilk to shame. If it were not for her crab claw hands, Theodora would have guessed she that she was an Eldar that had fallen to depredations of Chaos.

“Yes, yes, they are bit drab aren’t they? I believe you’ll find my Sorcerers much more colorful and appealing to your sense of worship.” The Sorceress reclined into the stony embrace of her sapphire throne, sparing a smile in Nyst’s direction as she spoke. “Oh, Hel’xata, I wish your tantalizing words had not tempted so much of my armies, now they’re just simply puppets. I had hoped some of them would prove more intelligent in that regard, but alas, the presence of the Arisen has set all of these souls onto the more fanatical course!”

“Why does she regard this one, “the Arisen”, as a pet?” There was no tone of mockery in the Herald’s voice, but something akin to a warning rose in Xag’rish’s tone, even as she smiled the most polite smile and bowed deeply to show apologies.

“That is because she is my pet! A gift, from our Overlords and supreme masters, those who serve Magnus the Red and the great eye in the warp! The Thousand Sons praised me for my faithful devotion and gave me a demon that they had culled through their most sacred rituals, to defend me from any threat that seeks to eliminate me, from within or without!” Theodora appeared awfully flamboyant in her luxurious robes, draped in all forms of magnificent golden jewelry that depicted the many symbols of Chaos.

Xag’rish decided that she loved it.

“Oh master, you are always one for the melodramatic!” Nyst stifled a yawn, lying down on her side as she observed the dancing Xag’rish as if watching an insect with apparent interest. “You must forgive her, but I am Hel’xata, leashed and bound as you see, by my patron God to have the ears of mortals and give them the words of the Gods. But I digress, master, you should go ahead and give her a name! She seems very excited to take one!” The Greater Demon giggled devilishly, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
“It is almost time!”

“His name Lriean, demon, but there are others. They are hunting for lost souls of their Eldar race, but I see now that the Eldar have decided to meddle in our affairs. I do not want you to kill Lriean until you have killed another, she is someone that Nyst has seen in her dreams and knows her name! Her name is Mae and she lives in a distant realm that is far from here!”

“Suffer the witch! Through their eyes is the eternal damnation that awaits the galaxy!” Xag’rish’s voice rose in shrill crescendo until she could reach no higher note.

“You see master!? This is why I do not like her; she views you only as a gateway, a meat puppet destined to do mischief upon the galaxy. Surely no meat puppet can truly rule why such baleful gazes seek to gain an advantage over you?”

“Do not worry, Hel’xata, I was promised that she could help us. I know space and time is not a hindrance to you demons, so go, Xag’rish, assassinate this marked soul and do with it as you wish. Also, I expect this “Council” of Seers to be similarly dismembered, understand?”

“Your bidding, eternal, Mistress!”

“But do not snuff this Lriean soul just yet! He will lead us to the true prize in this war!”

“Ah, little Lriean, I’d wager he’s forgotten all about me.” Nyst’s lips puffed into an exaggerated frown, and Xag’rish purred lustfully at the name.

“How will this soul serve without bending knee!?” Xag’rish suddenly fell on one knee, eyes fallen to the floor and asking the question with a sullen voice. 

“He need not serve me, but simply open the way! His alien Gods seem to favor him, so he is protected, but only by fortune. He will provoke the wrath of one other patron God that I will need to slip by. Until he does so, do not focus on him.”

“Blessings of Excess go with you!” Xag’rish leaped to and fro among the hall of the Throne, twirling with inhuman grace and kindling an aura of screaming souls to swallow her up before she faded out of reality completely, ready for the hunt.

“You seem confident, Hel’xata.” Theodora chided slyly, looking up from her perfectly manicured finger nails to spare the Greater Demon a snide glance.

“Relax, master! She will do many wonderful things for you, just wait and see!” Hel’xata laughed at the Priestess’ uncertain demeanor. “By the way, I wonder what you will do with this entire rabble at your gates!”

“They are chafe, ultimately, and will not stop us; I shall allow them inside to visit! Do welcome our guests when they find themselves in our halls, Hel’xata, I would hate for them to get lost. I shall have Hesperion and my Sorcerers aid you as well.”

“Your bidding, eternal.”
------------------------

“Wake up.”

The clearest voice uttered from nothingness, probing her outer mind with due care and careful not to push beyond invisible boundaries. She stirred ever so slightly, enough to rouse a pulse; she could feel the measured pumps of her heart with absolute clarity. It thrummed rhythmically in her ears and threatened to lull her back into a picturesque dream.

“Arise, I see you there.”

A faint breeze washed over pale skin and yet she did not awaken. Something was calling out, reaching out with something other than arms that tugged at her psychically. A groan of protest was uttered from her thoughts and she slapped the presence away with her mind.

“Awaken again… out of your war self, become who you always were. It is safe to open your eyes to the world, child, cruel as it maybe, wishing it away will not give you any solace in your trials to come.”

“Where am I?” A gloved hand that was not her own brushed aside her aurburn locks of curled hair out of her eyes and she winced from the brightness of the sun.

“Somewhere you were destined to be.” Kasilienesh cast a number of marked stones in the air, each one glowing with a white light and swirling around him at a fast pace. “You should not keep the mask on forever; it gnaws at your real, inner self, and can consume you.”

Taryi grimaced as she stirred upon the grassy hilltop, listening to the drowning roar of nearby waterfalls that fell into a placid lake so blue and green that it appeared that she were upon the shores of Teyl-Jhen. She was so close to the glistening body that she reached out to it and dipped her bare hand into the warm crystalline waters. The Howling Banshee, now a normal specimen of the Eldar, did not like waking up to a lecture as much any other youthful Eldar.

“I feel… satiated of my bloodlust.” Taryi searched her surroundings with an arm raised over her eyes to ward off the sun. They were deep within a valley, exactly where, Taryi could not tell and yet judging by the humans that were treading through the hills beneath them without a care in the world, and golden palaces in the backdrop, she could safely suspect that they were still on Tyrannus, somewhere in Aurelia perhaps.

“Good, child, very good.” The Warlock was dressed in robes of the deepest black and adorned with gems and runes of the most crimson red. White wraithbone on his helm glared back at her, but Taryi could feel the purity of his presence soothing her spirit. “You should rest for a few days; learn what is to be yourself again, perhaps.”

“What is there to do on a human world?” Taryi forced herself into a cross-legged position, just behind Kasilienesh. “Read their history?”

“Go watch their plays, see their places of tourism, and see what it means to be a human. The possibilities are only slightly fewer than if you were upon a maiden world.” Kasilienesh turned his attention back towards the palaces sprouting from the earth and raising untold kilometers up into the sky. “You are concerned?”

“I- what of Lreian and Qu’nalan? If I were to suddenly take leave for a few days and return, they would be going about without my aid. And my aid is something that they need.” Tayri looked down upon herself and suddenly realized that she was dressed in a flamboyant black and yellow dress of a high-gothic style. She suddenly ached and longed for her armor.

“Resist the call of your war-spirit; it will not serve you in this place. In fact it seeks you to serve it, master your calling, you are the master of yourself and no other.” The Warlock appeared lapsed in a trance, the glowing runes playfully whirling about him showing him the future. “Do not worry about your friends, Qu’nalan can wear his war-spirit well and Lriean has no need for such things. He has learned well from these short-lived humans. They will be departing soon for the tombs of Bel’atha and I too shall leave with them.”

“You would simply leave me out in this world alone?” Tayri’s sharp tongue suddenly resurged into her being though it was provoked by doubt and uncertainty.

 Kasiliensh spared her a sideways glance and took in her hesitating and bewildered face and responded with soothing voice that sympathized with her. “There are others that will be here to tend to your needs and others still that you could walk with. Philemon and Drayana have been assigned to be near your quarters, seek them out and speak to them. I’m sure it will be enlightening.”

“I am the most experienced of the team, you do not think I can fight, but I assure you I am the deadliest blade of all!”

“Of that I have no doubt, but your spirit is worn thin and you are in not the right mental state to fight what is to come.”

“And what is it that is to pass, honored Seer?”

“Something that I cannot foresee, unless with my own eyes.” The Warlock from Ulthwe held no grim prophecy in his voice, but something akin to intrigue and interest as the runes slowly dropped to the ground one after the other. “I have been here far longer than you know and have seen many things, but this shall be a first, I shall see the things you see that I never thought to look for before. Soon, soon enough.”
----------------------

The halls of the palace were far from emptied, even as Taryi maneuvered through the grand halls; it was usually through a throng of servants or elite personnel. She cast a strange glance at the serf leading them further through the richly decorated atriums and chambers. It felt different to her to move in such heavy clothes, but she did feel an air of royalty being in such gothic attire.

“What is this place?” The Howling Banshee whispered, approaching a massive stone fountain depicting a writhing Hydra rising from the placid waters it held in its deep reservoir. A hundred snarling heads of the grand sea serpent emitted a steady stream to add to the pooling water and she wondered what manner of beasts dwelled on this primitive planet.

“This is the beginning of the tomb of the Honored, I see this serf must’ve brought you through the quickest way possible to end up here, as I expected.” Philemon suddenly emerged from one of the darkened paths and into the golden light coming off grand and ancient chandeliers. She strode forth in an elaborate dress across the emerald and stained bronze checkered tiles to draw very close the alien. “My apologies for startling you, but I heard you were coming so I thought I’d meet you half way.”

“No, it is alright, though I must say I am a little intrigued with how you mon-keigh bury your dead. You claim  the soul is venerated through death, and yet make no place for it among your own halls?”

“Such places of devotion are worthless to us, you see? When the soul departs it is guided back to the Emperor’s side through the beacon of the Astronomican.” Philemon waved the serf away and gestured for Taryi to follow her deeper into the bowels of the extravagant crypt.

“How convenient.” Taryi purred satisfactorily, following the human down through the great ribbed passage ways and past row upon row of bone colored caskets.

“Surely it must be a better fate than being locked away in some corner of the galaxy for all eternity?” Philemon chided snidely before remembering her manners. “Forgive me, sometimes I forget myself, but this is not a conversation I’m sure both of us do not wish to be having.”

“Oh, it does not bother me… uh, Philemon was it?” Taryi pronounced the name as awkwardly as the Celestian had ever heard it, but showed no hint of annoyance. “You will not be leaving with the others?”

“Ah, no I do not believe so; there would be no one here to guide you around.” The Celestian smiled politely, leading her through a series of small statues tucked away along the passage way they were making their way through.

“Ah, and so here we are, to the resting place of Canoness Kari Olympia. I hope you forgive the detour, but I thought we may as well come now that we are here.”

The life-sized statue of the passed Canoness was that of Kari Olympia in her full armor, a helm cradled in her right arm and a large blade held over head in her left. Taryi could see long strands of hair falling across her back, being blown in an imaginary wind. Her youthful features, set in a darkened marble, depicted her ebony skin and the white marble between her lips showing a white set of teeth bore in a proud shout.

“Very elegant.” Taryi gently scrubbed her chin as she inspected the statue, silently observing Philemon bend on one knee before the suspended casket.

“Emperor, I am your humble servant, a proud warrior in your innumerable legions, and a faithful woman at heart. We honor the passing of our short-lived Canoness, Kari Olympia, the stalwart bastion that sought to stand between all of Tyrannus and the depredations of Chaos. It is through her sacrifice that we gained victory over the minions of your most hated foe.

Extend to us the flames of purity that we may extinguish the fires of war upon this world and keep watch over us as we bring honor to both the dead and the living through our deeds. This do I pray, benevolent father of mankind, give us hope in the days to come.”

Philemon stood, placing a gentle hand on the casket and shaking her head ever so slightly.

“You must have known her.” Taryi said with absolute certainty, which took Philemon back a little.

“Why yes, I was one of her bodyguards when she was alive, but after she passed, most of us were given over to serve the Inquisitor Ardaran and his forces.” Philemon couldn’t help grimacing as she remembered those days. “It’s actually been a lot easier on us than it sounds, we were not subjugated to interrogation or anything, well not much at least, given that one of our own was weak.”

“So sorry to interrupt, but Lriean is on my channel.” Taryi’s face was set in a disapproving frown as she answered the link.

“… Would you three be up for a drink?” Philemon suddenly smiled warmly, placing a firm hand on the female Eldar’s shoulder and turning her around the way that they had come. “I know a great little bar on the far side of the fortress monastery. If we take some transportation, we could all meet there.”

“I am uncertain if you Mon-keigh have anything that may fit my acquired taste, but lead on, and we shall see.”
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Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word
« Reply #11 on: May 3, 2013, 07:28:31 PM »

“How do you humans say it again, “cheers”!” Lriean raised his glass of Atola as he uttered the words in flawless gothic, a trait that had been gained through all the years studying the High Gothic language. Such things had their boons in life; it seemed to make Philemon more comfortable as she replied with the same word in her perfect accent and tongue.

The air was filled with a lingering cloud of grey smoke, emitted from a dozen people scattered in a dozen places throughout the “Drunken Cherubim”. The sound of every human emotion being acted out in real time rose to an audible level even above the pleasant background music. The noise of multiple conversations commencing at once mingled in with soft laughter, sly jibes, and angry arguments made him want to drink his troubles away all the more despite how unrefined human alcohol was.

Lriean found himself in one corner of the bar, raising a fine wine glass filled to the brim with an amber substance that was sure to please. Philemon was beaming as she rose her pitch black glass to his, both of them taking their cups to their lips and downing their drinks in one fell swoop. Taryi was busy sipping away at a bottle of Drake’s Fire with Qu’nalan, who actually appeared outside of his aspect warrior armor for once. He was clad in dark and purple clothes that were alien in origin and no doubt was causing a few stares.

“So Philemon, what exactly is your line of work for the Inquisitor anyway, I hope he did not redirect you from anything too important just to show us a good time!” The Eldar Relic Hunter reclined into his part of the booth, eyes as sharp as an eagles and scanning the room for anything of interest.

“Oh, sometimes it is a good thing to be taken off your Inquisitor’s many side projects. Just a little deserved R&R goes along way, even among people as stiff as the Sororitas.” The Celestian’s eyes gleamed with interest upon a topic pertaining to her, immediately going into her back story so that the aliens surrounding her might better understand. “I am his ambassador to an extent: I meet other people from the different Ordos or whatever branch of the Imperium that seeks an audience with him. It is tiresome and boring work, believe me, but at least it beats the battlefield!”

“Do you see any “xenos” often?” Lriean refilled his glass after her, nodding his head as she shook hers gravely. “Just imagine if every opportunity was as lucrative as this, it leaves a fine taste in your mouth, no?”

“There isn’t much to anything lucrative in the business of these kinds of wars, Lriean, where the goal in mind is to fend off fanatics who would genocide endlessly until this world was given onto oblivion.” Philemon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously in Lriean’s direction, trying hard not to scowl openly at him. “Not everyone is here for lost alien relics.”

“Of course, of course,” Lriean put his hands up defensively, smirking confidently as he feigned defenselessness. “Keep in my mind that I also find things of interest for the Imperium as well. When we find what maybe potentially causing the demonic invasion, you’ll soon be thanking me and my colleagues.”

“Any more leads on that? We’ve been combing the under city with a fine tooth comb and all that we’re digging out of the ruins are more cultists and demons.” Philemon nearly spat in disgust, but remembered where she was and took another drink.

“Being such crafty aliens that you are, I would hope that everyone’s favorite relic hunter would have some clues after two years of service.”

“Oh? Well you’re in luck, miss Philemon, for I, have the information you so desire.” Lriean replied arrogantly, looking so smug that Philemon seemed somewhat offset by it.

“Lriean!” Taryi hiccupped and gasped faintly, her pale skin was a flush of crimson, but she seemed even more reclusive than usual, to Philemon’s dismay. She was slowly stirring her drink with a straw, seemingly contemplating a dozen things at once as they all came to her mind in a rush. “Ah, forget it, little Mon-keigh, go ahead and listen to him, surely they must be going to their death if they wish to abandon the females of the group in some forgotten notion of honor.”

“I see you’ve been talking with Kasilienesh,” Lriean sighed heavily, remembering to hold off on the rolling of the eyes as he felt Taryi’s stare bore through him. “This is just something we have to do ourselves, given that you’re having trouble removing your war-mask.”

“What did you say, little whelp!?” Taryi hissed through gritted teeth, leaning in very close to Lriean to see if her knife pointed ears was mistaken. “You know nothing of the ways of the Howling Banshee, or our Exarchs, or what it truly means to don the war mask. Then again, I do not expect you to understand, for your kind are those of the Outcasts vagrants, and would never be accepted among true Craftworld kin.”

“Taryi! You overstep your boundaries.” Qu’nalan chastised her in a hushed tone. “Everyone should take some time away from the war mask when the time calls for it. Just because we are in the midst of a war doesn’t mean that recuperation has become a luxury. Indeed, it is a requirement and one that you’ve shunned long enough.”

“Where is Lyria?” Taryi suddenly changed the conversation, brows furrowing in slight annoyance. “I have not seen her in a couple of cycles.”

“Ah, yes, she’s doing something rather important right now, no need to bother her.” Lriean rested his head on the palm of his hand, looking somewhat reminiscent.

“That will not do, she was just learning her proper place in my presence.” Taryi engulfed her drink in one swallow, slamming the glass down and peering directly at Philemon.

“I never think I will trust your kind, despite your kindness, but, perhaps we should have the honor of crossing blades one day. It is the only embrace I willingly give humans.” The Howling Banshee was recovering some of her sternness, but stared quizzically at Philemon as she responded with a devilish smile.

 “You would not wish to cross blades with me, little Eldar, I could snap you like a twig. None-the-less, I wish I could spare my soul the despair and impurity of consorting with Xenos, but what can a girl do, given the situation?”

“Perhaps we should leave these men to their fool notions of glory and treasure?” Taryi seemed somewhat satisfied with the answer and in turn, Philemon was satisfied with that.

“Just one more question, what is the information you gathered that you’ve yet to share with me?” Philemon purred triumphantly, basking in the disapproving look Taryi had written over her face. “What, you think I would simply forget because of Taryi’s outburst? I am surprised you are not curious yourself, young Howling Banshee.”

“I am likely three times your age, little Mon-Keigh, remember that the next time you choose to address me.” Taryi huffed in a small, silent fume, going back to her empty drink and taking the bottle out of Qu’nalan’s hands.

“Most women your age would be flattered to be called anything associated with youthfulness, if only we were all so lucky. Besides, you look slightly younger than me so I will refer to you as if you are.” Philemon then turned her attention to Lriean and gestured for him to speak.

“There’s not much to say, I’m afraid. You see there is a great tomb at the very bottom of Aurelia, built in honor of some long dead hero of the Imperium that has long been overrun with the taint of Chaos.” Lriean’s laid back posture suddenly seemed animated as he began retelling his short story. “They say an Eldar by the name of Bel’atha died in those tombs attempting to slay a great adversary or so the legends say. Our intelligence on the matter is unusually lacking for some strange reason, so really, we’re not sure what’s down there ourselves. But it must be some sort of clue hidden down in the depths, waiting to resurface and tell us its secrets.”

“Any evidence that the Thousand Sons had been involved?” Philemon seemed grave at the prospect, but leaned in all the more to dissect Lriean’s words.

“Things seem to point to them; this is something that they would want to probably be involved in, awakening some nemesis to mankind and Eldar I mean.” Lriean smiled his sly smile. “This will be dangerous work, not the usual archeology digs and discoveries we’ve been unearthing. Ardaran is dispatching a detachment of his own forces to coincide with our efforts. It will be truly fascinating.”

“This is unfair!” Taryi squeezed the glass in her hand and for a moment, Lriean thought she would crush it in her grip before she slammed it back down. “I’ve been working with you two for how many years on this mission and now that we may finally be reaping some of the results we’ve so tirelessly worked to achieve, you see fit to drop me here on the eve of our greatest discovery!?”

“Stepping stones, Taryi,” Qu’nalan soothed in his dark, whisper voice. “It is only a stepping stone, we are not abandoning you, but this is not the most opportune moment that requires your skills. Spirit Seer Mae did warn us that your blade will soon be needed, but that you should spend some time sharpening yourself for the real work that has yet to begin. You must understand that. Do not think we haven’t noticed your growing impatience, you are becoming tired of our tedious work here and that alone is causing us some problems of our own. Just take some time off, clear your head, and we’ll see you again when you’re refreshed.”

“I am not weary of our travels together,” The Howling Banshee sighed softly, placing a hand on Qu’nalan’s and glaring into his eyes with an apologetic look. “Even if this is what the Council wants, I cannot see why we must do this for a race that is not our own.”

“I understand that, but you will just have to trust them.” Qu’nalan gently squeezed her hand and smiled broadly. “You will understand in time, as will we all.”

“Oh?” Philemon’s brow raised in slight confusion as she studied the pair of aspect warriors, then turned to Lriean for an answer. The young Eldar merely shrugged and a made with both of his hands the shape of a heart. She suddenly understood.

“Don’t forget we’re also doing this to not to be hunted by ancient greater demons, that’s always important.” Lriean let loose a cheery laugh that earned knowing smirks from his other three companions. “I think I’ll buy us another round, eh?”
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