NationStates Jolt Archive

Kirarri; a long forgotten and tarnished jewel in humanities crown. An ancient system, plagued by the foul taint of long-ago daemons. Now, it is but a relic of humanity's glory, a reminder of the bright Golden Age of Imperium...It's secrets known only to a select few. Cultists, moving in the shadows of civilised order, spreading their taint with every breath, sending forth messages of the horrors and hidden powers of Kirarri. On every world, they ready; they prepare...For the moment.

Behemiel returns; that great warpstorm, sent to sunder space, time; reality...When it vomits forth from the warp into real space, it shall fuel the energies in this chaotic system; it shall awaken so much of the untapped power; and they shall be there to recieve its benefits.

The messages go forth, sent forth on psychic waves, through the astropaths, and through communications relays and networks of all kinds.

This is the Kirarri system; we are under threat from a warp storm; Behemiel comes again. We require assistance. The servants of the great enemy; the great enemy comes! The Adversary from the warp seeks its temples and its relics; its ancient treasures. The power; In the Emperors Name, protect us! The power corrupts more everyday....The end, the end draws nigh, save us! Save me! Liberate!

The message has reached the ears of at least one body; the Chronosian Imperium, who, in seeking to tame and use Chaos, has sent forth the newly formed Black Order. Archon Lash, Lord Militant of the Inquisition, has taken his elite "Bloodied Fist" unit; to investigate the coordinates picked up from the message. And now lie, on the long and painful road to Kirarri.

"My Lord, we are approaching the system."

"Excellent" Archon smirked softly; as an Inquisitor, he would have crushed these treasures. Now he would seek them; tame them, keep them...

Above his throne, the corrupted spear of Sanguinus, covered in the blood of Rafen and of Lucian himself, hung in bitter testament. His was the Black Order; the corrupted tools of Old. He would make his Master proud...

A depleted squadron of Protoss Pinnaces recieved the message as well, and immediately moved towards the coordinates contained in it, they would help these people against the Great Adversary, whatever that was...

As they neared the system they detected a few allies, and many foes as well, a small Zerg swarm, composed prinmarily of 20 Darkling bodyguards and the ship of Zerg Blade-God Turel, escorted by a pair of Guardians, they were currently behind the planets moon, keeping them out of sight of the advancing enemies, their direst foes, the Chronosians, they were here in force, and in an unidentified vaste, they seemed to be an Adeptus branch, but there was no way to be sure until they were engaged...

The few Interceptors with the Pinnaces were dispatched back to the homeworld for Terran reinforcements, there were few here, and they would be neeed badly when the foul Chaos-Spawn eventually attacked.

To the Laskonian Space Marine chapter, it had just been another day protecting a backwater planet with nothing to do.

That was before the ork attacked.

Thousands of them, pouring over the bolter turrets, hundreds dying in the process at high velocity rounds ripped through their green flesh, but more just kept coming. Scout snipers barely covered the last hill top that was right before the primary base. One took out a flamer and fired a jet of flame into several ork grunts moving toward their position, two more ork dropped by rounds fired from the snipers, the fourth man in the squad was lying dead, an axe wound in his face, the axe that caused this wound was now moving towards the flamer scout, whose head was deftly seperated from his shoulders. The two snipers backed up their position, fully willing to die to save the base, they took out knives and prepared for the inevitable onslaught of orks.

It never came.

As they finished their last prayers, a large pod hurtled through the atmosphere, it impacted mere meters in front of them, sending them both sprawling onto the ground, they swiftly got up, only to see Force Commander Isane Nefaria reaching out of the pod, sword first, into an oncoming ork squad. Bolt pistol blazing, he swung the force sword, sending the ork troops scattering back. The snipers nodded to eachother and raised their guns once more, aiming and firing as fast as they could to help the Commander. The ork that hadn't left to regroup were now running away from the swirling ring of death that the Commander had made around him. More pods dropped in front of them, several assault troops flew out of them on jetpacks, hacking through them with chain swords.

The Commander approached the two scouts, who saluted immediately.

"My Commander, all our forward defenses have beend destroyed, we were the last defense."

"And you have held out, my brothers. You shall be awarded for you bravery."

"Thank you, brother commander!"

"Go and alert your commander to my presense. As soon as me and my men have cleaned up this mess, we will re-organize and attack the ork positions, to drive them from this land."

One of the scouts began to move out, but the other hesitated a moment.

"Did you really come to give us reinforcements sir? Is that it?"

The Commander's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Perhaps if you keep yourself civil, you will know in time, marine. Now move out."

"Yessir."

((I'm going to do a bit of time warping and say my Knights recieve this message after they settled into Coreworld's planet.))

Brother-Captian Ricaud sat on the floor of his large room, not moving or even breathing, as it looked. He was meditating, clearing his mind, bolstering his resolve, and that of the pure light of the long forgotten Emperor of Man.

Until it hit his head like a warhammer. An astropathic message, sent by a long reaching psyker reached his mind, as if the message was being said an inch away from his ear.

Adversaries from the warp... Ricaud thought, No...

The makeshift monestary was buzzing, all the knights had heard it, as all were attuned and powerful psykers. A loud bang came on Ricaud's door, and he barked, "Enter."

A Knight clad in Aegis Terminator armor entered as told. He was slightly smaller than Ricard, and hard a buzz cut, his dirty greasy hair shining dully in the light.

"What is it, Brother Gabriel?"

"Brother Captian, did you hear the message?"

"I did, brother."

"It spoke of 'Adversaries from the Warp... Daemons, Brother-Captian."

"I heard it to, brother. Find Commisar Fletcher, tell him to gather his stormtroopers, and have them ready for departure."

"Yes, brother."

Gabriel hastily left the room.

Soon all the Knights and troopers would be ready to depart back to their Strike Cruiser, dubbed the Daemon's Bane, and soon after that, on their way to the source of the Astropath's message.

"What have you determined, Sorceror?" Archon's cold whisper echoed across the bridge, as the Sorceror stood; animal skin robes falling about his rune-scarred power armor; a wry chuckle rising as he turned, eyes blazing within that helmet.

"Archon, do you have so little faith in the ability of the Black Hand? Would it were he were not...preoccupied, Lord Jeriacor would be here; you know that yourself. In the meantime, he has left you in my capable hands. Or I in yours, which do you prefer?"

"I would prefer to know what you know, Sorceror."

"Of course, My Lord. Kirarri is an ancient system; as evidenced by the Imperial Architecture. It belonged to the Imperium of Man, and was, at one point, ravaged by the Warp itself. An army which took the worlds and pawns and servants of humanity. Beneath the very feet of the human cattle; dwells power beyond our imaginings. Cities, temples; relics of a Daemonic civilisation. And we, are here to claim it."

"Bring us into orbit around this world; codified as Kirarri world, Nergal."

"As you wish Lord" A guardsman Captain bowed and began barking out the orders, as Archon turned back to face the sorceror.

"What is our current status?"

"Well, my lord...A warp storm approaches; nothing to be afraid of, it will not engulf this system; simply ravage the heart of it. The Warp power brings the Daemons strength; greater than they have had in millenia, and the cults await that moment, when they will arise from their dreaming death..."

"And at that moment?"

"Why, we strike of course, and take what is rightfully ours..."

The approaching ravages of the Warp were impossible to miss for a powerful Psionicist like Feanor, they would have to reach the surface and entrench before the Daemons roused themselves, it would be days before the reinforcements arrived, and the small hive on the dark side of the moon would be of little assistance, they needed ACS, more than the two they had already, if they were facing Daemons they would need hundreds of thousands, at least.

The Zerg Hive was not inactive during this, they dispatched The Blade God and his bodyguard to the surface, where they would meet up with the Protoss and help them entrench as swiftly as possible.

The Interceptors were still days away from friendly space, they would not return to aid their commander for nearly 2 weeks, it had to be hoped that they could hold long enough against the Daemonas that they sensed residing beneath the earth.

Inquisitor Marius Ark was immersed in study by candlelight, the lighting method was archaic and unnecessary but it eased his mind when immersed in the most dubious books he was at the moment. He looked over texts arcane and daemonic, symbols that stung his eyes he subjected himself to helped remind him what his beloved Imperium had become: the once mighty and pure Chronosian Imperium was now just a daemon infested shadow of its former glory, open worship of the dark gods they once sought to destroy. Many of his fellow inquisitors had given into the temptations of chaos and threw their arms up in acceptance of their new masters – not Marius, upon learning of the corruption in the Imperium, he had fled the systems and gathered up all the puritans and loyalists he could find, before leaving the corrupted Chronosian empire for good.

The ship was an old destroyed, painted in the dark red and black that some of the old Inquisition took pride in. Seventy seven Inquisitorial storm troopers were aboard, praying to whatever holy deity they thought fit – after the sway of the Emperor Marcus, the ones who fled were torn about who they should worship; the inquisitor suggested they worship any moral deity. Those under the Inquisitor’s command were satisfied and it had been that way ever since. The crew was a skeletal one, severely undermanned and only half of the escorts aboard the vessel could be manned by capable pilots at any one time. The Inquisitor himself had a small retinue, two priests, both zealous to the point of insanity, a sage servitor, and two combat servitors, each having a multitude of weapons hardwired directly into their pallid flesh.

Marius sighed as he closed the tome, screams of the damned bid him keep it open as to allow it to spread its malign influence throughout the ship, grabbing the force halberd that sat glowing a pale blue against the corner of his darkened room, he set off for the bridge and found a group of the crew’s officers clustered around the holo-table, projecting courses and muttering worriedly amongst themselves. They looked up when the Inquisitor approached, one man, a stocky man called Abdul Harek held a look of concern on his face and explained what the problem was.

”Inquisitor, the Kirarri system, we just found out, has a wealth of potent daemonic artefacts and sorceries, this isn’t overly alarming in its itself…what does have us caring is the fact that there was a message, a communiqué of most dire prophecy. It claims the great enemy comes, the enemy that even the new…corrupted ‘Imperium’ has yet to master and they return with greater force than they’ve had in millennia, that, and the new Imperium is making for it with a new branch of the decaying Inquisition.”

Marius was short of stunned, he allowed himself a moment to digest what he had just heard, the shadows of the bridge were retreating before blue light from the consoles and the holo-table. In the meagre light, looks of anticipation could be noted on the crew’s features, knowing their lives and futures depended on the choice the Inquisitor had to make.

”Set a course, we make for Kirarri.”

There are secrets of history that only the Eldar know. Some are irrelevant to the universe. Some were just kept to prevent the Humans, in their struggle against themselves, from gaining an upper hand.

One of those secrets of the Eldar, one that they had thought long dead, was about to appear upon the scene. Who they were, and why there were there would be unknown to both sides of the conflict upon Kirarri.

Only the Eldar would know of stories of the Var. The dragon-like race that had vanished from the universe in a vast civil war of plantary slaughter. How or why the Var, in the form of a Lords of War carrier taskforce, were here were a mystery even to the Eldar. But the Eldar would know the signs of their arrival.

Unlike most of the universe, the Var had long taken a diffrent path to the stars, so their approach was not through the Warp, but a small alternative universe that was a mystery to even the Eldar.

The Var taskforce appeared like ghosts, fading into real space like phantoms from the past. They left only small traces of a wake in the Warp, as their transitions distrubed it.

The Taskforce appeared to consist of twelve ships. Only the vast bulk of the carrier could be made out presently. But they were on an intercept course for the planet.

Why were the Var back from the dead? And why were they here? Not even the Eldar would know why. Only that the Var would be on the side of the Var, and likely there would be a great deal of Orc stew being served.

A third group had arrived, seeming to appear from nowhere, mysterious travelers of the void, their arrival was noted, and considered to be of little consequence now, more important was reaching the surface and digging in to face down the Daemons.

The Blade God and his escorts broke for the surface, not caring if they were detected, the enemy would find them all soon enough, and secrecy was wasted in the face of speed like they needed.

Already the Interceptors ran into trouble, whirling through space in a deadly skirmish with a pack of pirate frigates, they wre being delayed, it could not be allowed to slow them down much longer.

Orbitally bombarded into submission, the ork forces on planet were nearly cleansed, and the remaining chapter warriors left there would see to it they were taken care of fully and completely.

After Force Commander Nefaria had met with Commander Nexxum, the leader of that base, they had held a hurried discussion in his private quarters, when they emerged, Nexxum mearly gave the order to round up half of its forces and prepare to leave immediately. The marines did this, but not without wondering what was going on.

Nexxum frowned at a Sergeant who was approaching him after his squad had boarded the dropship.

"Brother Commander...what is this all about?"

"You will see, Brother, you will see,"

He nodded and boarded the ship, Nexxum followed suite in another shuttle that Nefaria and both of their military consorts would be taking.

"Yesterday afternoon, Commander Nexxum, did you recieve any strange message signal?"

"Yes, Brother Librarian Markus detected it, and reported to me, it supposedly concerned the Kirarri system..."

"Exactly. Our psykers all throughout the chapter recieved that message. This also includes everyone and anyone who has psychic abilities throughout the entire galaxy."

"What do you plan to do, brother commander?"

"Go there, and investigate this disturbance. It obviously has ties to the Chaos and Daemons. We cannot allow such...filth to get in the way of the Imperium's process of rebuilding!"

"We assumed it would be dealt by with Inquisators, brother."

"So I have heard. But I have decided to go myself, to see this and stop it."

"Why did you need me and my men?"

"You saw how those ork were acting, they would never have the courage to attack your base normally, unless they knew they had enough fodder. They are acting erratically, and if we encounter anything worse then Ork on that planet, I will need all the help I can get from your men, Nefaria."

"Of course brother! But how do we stop a warp storm?"

"By stopping its source."

The ships now docked with the main battle barges and ships of the Chapter, they quickly began to blast towards the Kirarri system.

Chronosian drop pods rocketed through the air, plunging through the flaming atmosphere into the heart of a city; landing, 24 Marines in all, about the great ornate pillar in the centre of the city. Reality crackled and shimmered as Archon and the Sorceror, Yrrik, flashed into being, rent by the power of the teleporter.

"This is it; the first sign, of making and unmaking" The sorceror laid his gauntleted hand upon the surface, feeling it crackle and seethe with power. "Yes...The tallest tower of the Daemon's remade as a dedication to their emperor. This crackling fist tore through the concrete of the pillar; warp power coalescing as it exploded in a shower of dust and debris. The marines stepped back, as Archon advanced upon what had been unveiled; black as ebony, crackling with eldritch runes.

"What do you see, dear sorceror?"

"My Lord; they speak of the last days; of the pillars across each world...'While the entrapments of the Star Gods may calm the Warp; so the symbols of the God's shall set it to burn'"

"What does it mean sorceror?"

"It speaks of the guardians of the Chaos Gate....I believe, it implies that while the Cadian pylons calm the warp; so these artifacts will inflame it; they may very well be drawing and fuelling the warp storm."

"How very interesting; and how does this benefit us?"

"Time is of the essence my lord; we must make certain that the storm strikes; and when it has...We shall claim the power that rises."

Cracks had snaked about the base of the pillar, the object itself pulsating, vibrating madly, as the Sorceror turned, walking down from the steps. "We must make certain that we are ready. This world, Nergal, is a major population centre; yet we have no yet found any civilians, not even the cultists I would expect. We must be wary..."

The rocketing Infested Ship crossed the terminator before touching down, there wre already enemies here a few dozen miles away, well, this could get interesting...

The Protoss followed their allies in, the Pinnaces had their weapons ready, while the Banshee Shuttles prepared to disgorge their battered survivors, a half dozen zealot squads and a pair of ACS units, along with two mighty Archons, Light and Dark, they began to Seek out the Daemons beneath this place, they were here, invisible to trhe naked eye, but glowing like the brightest suns to the Archons Othersight.

The Pirates were beaten, and only 3 Interceptors were lost, they continued on their way, racing for the Homeworld, but intending to stop at every base they could find to send out X-COM forces, maybe they could delay the Daemons long enough for the Protoss to deal with the source, or the ACS to arrive.

The Daemon's Bane glided through the buffeting maelstrom of the warp. Sigils of the Grey Knights and the Ordo Malleus adorned her hull, her scarred aging hull.

Inside, Commisar Fletcher, sporting a red cape, rank sigils, and the average Stormtrooper battle uniform, stood infront of Brother-Captian Ricaud, Fletcher standing a full two feet shorter than the captian.

"...And that is what was sensed, Commisar." finished Ricaud, before that a lengthy discussion about the astropath signals.

The deep voice of Fletcher responded, sounding alittle deeper than even Ricaud's booming voice. "I understand, Captian. I will prep my troopers and inform them of the situation." He bowed and left the room.

Suddenly the ship was jolted. The severity of the warp increasing as they got closer to the planet. A warp storm was not far off from the system they were heading to, and all the Knights could sense it, aswell as a deep lingering evil power behind it.

Ricaud made his way out of his place of meditation within the ship, and to the bridge.

"How long until we get there?"

The ship's captian turned to look at Ricaud. "Not long now, Brother-Captian."

"Good, prepare pods to drop forces, accomdating about 100 troopers, 30 Knights and 10 Terminators. We will need to find these cultists, and find what ever is behind all this."

The captian bowed slightly, "Yes sir."

They were going to drop all the Ordo MAlleus they had, which wasn't much because they were orginally sent out as a small expeditionary force, only to return to the Azaha system to see the ruins of Azaha some time later.

The Commander of the 101st, a beastial man, tall, muscular and a devout worshipper of khorne stood the wind of this planet blowing in his hair, the air was heavy with the scent of blood and it excited his senses...

"Men of Blood, we spilt the blood of the innocent today in the name of our lord Khorne, the clamour of battle still rings loud and clear in our heads, but here it does not end, our saviour and master the Deamon Emperor calls for us to once again take up arms against the enemies of Chronosia... and today we do so with a vengefull bloodlust that will split the galaxy in two... BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" the commander spoke, his voice beastial and loud, then reaching fever pitch at the end of his sentence...

all around him, the troops of the 101st raised crude axes and swords to the sky, their hair long and matted with blood, their armour blackend with encrusted blood and grisley trophies adorned their armour...

this was the 101st... The Legion of Khorne...

Already theDrones were working, not making buildings, but instead forming wals from native stone, it would slow any assault for a time, and was easy to work with compared with the hard minerals they were used to handling, soon the western wall would be complete, twice the height of any of the other seven walls of the compound, the other walls would be only about ten feet tall, while the western walls would be fifteen for north- and south-west, and twenty for due west, since that was the most likely direction of attack.

The Protoss forces emplaced powerful Photon and Phase Disruption Cannon, one Photon to two PDC at every wall intersection, as well as one PDC in a turret at the center of each wall, the Daemons would be chewed as they attempted to enter the fortifications of the Protoss\Zerg base.

The Interceptors had reached their first destination, an X-COM base, neary a full day from the planet in question, it dispatched a few Avenger Interceptors, as well as five Bio-Trans troop transports full of X-COM agents, outfitted with the newest AA Armor and Marsec flight suits, as well as Devastator Cannon and squad-level Dimensional Missile Launchers, and a pair of Entropy Missile weapons, they departed just three hours after the Interceptors made their run through the system, carrying their lethal payload of X-COM operatives.

An ork, the Arch Pyro Fiend Gaz'kul, lolled in his massive gold and jewel encrusted throne as he watched his prized pet squig tear another apart to the cheers of the rest of the orks.

His space hulk, which was drifting throught the warp shook slightly as it was caught in the warpstorm. A few days later, during which Gaz'kul had put on a few extra pounds, what with the challenges he'd had to deal with, the space hulk exited the warp above a world ripe for conquest.

"My Lord" A marine approached, stopped by the raising of Archon's hand, the Dark inquisitor not even turning to regard him.

"What is it, servant?"

"My Lord; reports indicate that agents of Miehm are upon this world" Archon's sigh was audible as he turned, languidly regarding the Marine.

"They are of no concern to us; no other race is of concern to us, save the will of the Emperor.."

"Not quite true; Lord." Archon whirled only to see the sorceror. "Others could be of much use to us; a great aid to our...most pure cause."

"And how is that, Sorceror?"

"The Tarot is cast; the scrying is done. The time draws near for this world; but there are other worlds than these..."

"I understand; so what is our course of action."

"My dear Inquisitor...We simply need to wait for the denizens to strike. Their Master's wish to return, and such an act requires....Sacrifice."

Explosions rocked the city as buildings collapsed; flames shooting skyward; the bellows of countless men could be heard; the screams echoing as the city turned on its. Buildings shattered about them, all across this great city it was the same; blood flowed like water, mortar fell as rain.

"It is working..." The sorceror hissed, side stepping a bullet from a bolter as nearby civilians flailed and assaulted each other. "The sacrifice of this city, as faithful turn on faithless shall be absolute..." Another bullet; and the marines whirled to see the horde advancing upon them...

Flesh was mutilated, carved with eight pointed stars or runes of the gods; blood flowed from their countless wounds, their eyes gouged out, others had no tongues....

The Marine's readied their weapons; the roar of bolter and flamer echoling through the city as Yrrik turned to Archon.

"My dear Primarch, do you see now? We are only at the beginning...Command them, make them bring about that which we desire." The runes on the object behind them flared, crackling with obscene power...

"Aid the sacrifice men; cleanse them....For the Gods" His reply came, steady and dominant.

It was time to begin...

The Laskonian Space Marine Chapter's small fleet consisted of one Battlebarge, two strike cruisers, and six rapid strike craft. As soon as they emerged into the sector, their ships began to shake, they could feel the warp storm, even though it was still far off?

Then the scanners located a phantom like ship extremely close by to their own ships, they had almost flown right into another fleet! (this is the Var fleet)

Nefaria's eyes narrowed.

"What is that fleet?"

"Not ours, brother captain."

"Brother Librarian, what do you suggest?"

"I cannot say, brother...these creatures, they feel...strange. I would suggest moving away from them, and sending the rapid strike cruisers to investigate."

"Then that is what we shall do."

The battle barge and strike cruisers moved away, so did the smaller cruisers, except for two, which began to circle and investigate the Var craft.

OOC: Am I going to be sacrificed to Daemons? :eek:

IC:

The Base was ready in the west, north and south were halfway done, east three quarters finished, the Protoss had all of the weapons in place, and X-COM reinforcements were on the way, they may not arrive soon enough thiough, aleready Chaos was affecting things negatively, the wildlife was becoming hostile, and the nearby city was in flames, devoured by the hatred that Chaos spawned.

"Well Feanor, I guess you'll feel right at home here, all this fire should be right up your alley." The speaker was massive, towering over the equally impressive Protoss, hs back gutted with massive spines, and his Devestator cannon was held in one hand, like a pistol, instead of the massive rifle it really was.

"Be silent Turel, you know I dislike Calling the Fires, more than I dislike Calling Lightnings, I despise this place more than you may ever know."

The ship shook as it exited the warp. Immediatly the Strike Cruiser went full blast towards the planet.

In the lower decks, the last of the troopers and knights loaded into their drop pods, weapons, rations, and other equipment in hand. Ricaud tapped into the ships communcations array from his pod to the bridge.

"Captian, status report?"

The com crackled inside the pod. "Seems to be some major disturbances in a large city..." The captian paused and a slight gasp escaped him, "Brother-captian, a legion of chaos as arrived, they are destroying the city."

Ricaud cursed under his breath, "Fine, takes us in as close as you can, but keep out of sight of the heretic ships. Drop us 7 klicks away from the city under seige."

"Roger that, pod release ETA 7 minutes."

Even though imperium ships weren't known for their speed, the strike cruiser seemed to move with unparalelled swiftness towards the planet.

It approached the world, trying its best to keep out of direct sight, and hugging close to the planet's atmopshere.

"4-3-2-1-Drop"

Over 30 pods were ejected from the ship as it grazed the top of the planet's atmosphere. Then, like a bat out of hell, the cruiser hauled itself out of the area.

The pods burned and flamed as they broke the atompshere. Small jets kept the pods upright, and from toppling as they plummeted through the near corrupted sky.

Troopers and Knights alike too the falls like true elite. Knights stood nuetral faced, moving witht he ship, and not panicking. Some troopers, not aswell disciplined as the knights, joked and enjoyed their elevator ride to hell.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pods fired their retro boosters as they approached the surface. The boosters fired until they were 5 feet above the ground, then cut out, leaving the pod to freefall 5 feet before it hit the ground. The hatches and doors flew open, knights and troopers clamored out, taking cover in what they could, and disperscing like true elites, neat and uniform. They looked around and survyved for moments, before each individual squad leader yelled, "Clear!".

Ricaud exited his pod, with his team of four other Terminators. While they wore helmets, he did not. He tapped his ear, queing in his com.

"All units, report to my position, bearing mark ###-###-##." He didn't even wait for responces.

They were spread out over roughly a mile long column. Quickly and effiecntly, Troopers with red gas masks, hefting Lasrifles and Hellguns made their way, aswell as Grey Knights, some with psyker cannons, others with stormbolter, and Nemesis force swords and halbreds in hand.

Gaz'kul had led the orks in a devestating attack on the world. The once pure and pristine had been scarred and defiled as the ork warbands, led by the Arch Pyro Fiend rampaged nearly unopposed through the cities and country side.

Prior to the invasion, Gaz'kul, had bombarded the planet with asteroids, ensuring the most destruction and devestation.

Once the world had been taken, the orks, guiding the human slaves to build warmachines and tools of war.

"Yes....Yes" The sorceror hissed as he carressed the crackling edifice of the pillar; running fingers across coruscating runes. "This city is but the first blow against the mortal world. brother turns on brother; no one with psychic gift or human passion is immune to its power... Soon, the hatreds will boil over; shall they not, Archon?"

Flames surrounded them, the city crumbling to ashes in a distinctly planned fashion; his marines knelt before them others lay, not even their great strength enough to protect them from the relentless hordes of possessed and traitorous civilians.

"Indeed. Soon, it shall be ready." He looked down, the ground about them strained and pulsed, cracking, as though some great pressure built deep beneath the earth. "And this is but the first of many"

"Of course; Lord. The power entombed here will simply aid us; none will be able to stop us because they will too busy fighting each other; or fighting amongst themselves..."

"And the Warp Storm?"

"If the augurs stand true, then all should be accomplished within the schedule. The power of the storm will...lessen the need for sacrifice. But we really must hurry.. Lest our enemies find us and interrupt our most delicate plans. The Icon requires more fuel..."

With the cruisers busy, the battle barge moved above the planet, and prepared its drop pods.

Identifying where the ork hords had begun their advance, 20 pods were launched at the head of the force, each carrying a Space Marine squad. They took up defensive positions as 10 more pods struck down, two carrying servitors, two more carrying each of the Force commanders, two for the Librarians, and four carrying terminators.

"Brother-captain Nexxum, you will lead the forces here against the ork advance. Myself, Brother Markus, and these terminator squads will move towards the city where the signal apparently originated from."

"You will be going with yourself and but four terminator squadrons?"

"I will count on your to build a forward command base here, and to send reinforcments to me as necessary."

"Yes, brother-captain."

While the Space Marines dug into their cover, Nefaria, Markus, and his terminators began to make the journey to the city that was the source of so much activity.

-to make things simple, lets make them just NPC ork instead, my mistake-

The Var fleet moved through space towards the planet almost ignoring the battlebarge and her escorts as they appeared. The two dreadnaughts could deal with the battlebarge if it were needed.

The Var fleet had an x cross section with the long, bulky carrier at the center. Everything about these ships demonstrated that they were not part of a race the human's had delt with before. The carrier had two dreadnaughts and two thunderhead battlecruisers as escorts. The battlecruisers were the most startling vessel with their four Gethon coil guns etending from the bow of the box like ship.

Behind the carrier group were four frigates that looked like nine square boxes strung together on a bulky pole. These were protecting the three, rounded transport ships.

<Karlord there is a fleet out of warp in our fifth quadrant>

<Quite, focus on the target. If they become a nuicence we will deal with them.>

<What about those escort craft that are circling the fleet?>

<Send out fighter patrols to keep an eye on them>

And so eight fighters launched from the carrier and began to follow the two terrier like cruisers. Flea's with a devistating bite who would deal harshly if the pup cruisers decided to cross the line and interfere.

The Var fleet turned to establish a High Orbit around the planet. Except for one ship, a transport vessel didn't stop approaching the planet. It just simply roatated and began to decend towards a small city located on the edge of a small sea.

As the atmosphere of the planet began to turn red where the friction of ship and gas occured. The dreadnaughts sent a orbital missle attack upon some nearby hordes that might try to stop the ship from landing. The Var evidently had intrests in the planet below.

After some time, the entire force had congregated in one spot, then moved away from the droppod so that they would not be easily found.

The Stormtroopers started to set up a small camp to accomdate them all for a short while, while the knights scouted the forests around them for any trouble, and came back negative each combat patrol.

Ricaud called a couple of troopers in the appropriate cammo gear for the planet, them wielding large sniper rifles.

"Troopers, I want you to scout towards the city, enter the city *if possible*, if the place is too hot and crawling, do not enter. Upon reaching the boundry, or first sign of chaos contact, report back."

The two troopers nodded, got up some supplies, and headed into the bush towards the city. It would take a whiel for them to make it 6 klicks to the city, but they were determined.

"Servants of the True Gods! You have come to aid ou-" The cultists sycophantic praise was cut off by the crackling of Archon's daemonblade, as the great man turned; and the next in line bowed his head, willingly accepting death as the blade tore the head from his shoulders, blood spilling from the gaping wound.

"I trust we are on schedule, Sorceror."

"Of course Master" A gauntleted hand, crackling with infernal energy, coiled about his staff. "It is only a matter of how long now..."

"How long for what!?"

"For our enemies to make themselves known; you did not think we were the only ones here, did you?"

"Of course not; we are prepared."

"Good" He pressed his clawed hand against the obelisk and chanted; watching the energies tearing the ground at his feet apart; stepping back, as with a surge of warp lightning, searing the very skies and causing more crackling discharge to surge earthwards...The powers about them were growing; winds howling, rain lashing down on them now; as blod ran, opposing the water. The Sorceror stepped back, as the blood continued to flow, up steps, along the wet ground and broken rock, and seeping into the ravenous daemonic construction.

"You see..." His voice was a low hiss, a dark and daemonic whisper as he watched it rise again, still very slowly, struggling from the Earth; the tower now stood twice as high above them as before. "The God's accept our sacrifices....But it is not enough."

The rapid strike cruisers, seeing how badly they were outmatched, swiftly rejoined the quiet Chapter fleet high above the planet.

On the ground:

A sergeant ran up to Nexxum, his expression grim.

"Brother captain, two of our squads have been routed by the numbers of the ork, and we have just recieved word from our forward scouts that a missle strike has come from the unknown fleet from above!"

"Is it aimed at us?"

"No, brother. It is aimed at the Ork!"

Just then several large scale explosions shredded the overwhelming ork force, when the dust cleared, Nexxum and the Sergeant leapt over their barricade and drew the remaining eight squads to them, they charged, blades flashing through the distracted Ork troops.

A communication comes over The Spear of Idemificataion, broken apart over the span of the warp "This. . . Kirarri syst. . .threat. . .warp storm. . .require assistance. . . enemy comes. . Adversary . . . seeks. . .temples . . . . save us! . . .Save me! . . . Liberate." Naaman Turns to the Navagational officer.

" Take us to the source of the transmission." Turning to the comm officer he adds, "send a message to Tusanco of our change of plans, also, send a request for reinforcements. I have an ominous feeling about this one."

No... not yet... Ricaud thought, as he motioned to his men. "We must move out, I'm not sure what they are doing... I'm not an Inquisitor, but it is somthing we must stop of Chaos are involved! Let's move out!"

All the troopers and knights left their camp, and headed directly for the city, ofcourse well behind their snipers who were scouting ahead.

One of them toned in on the com, "Sir, a group of what seems to be cultists has been sighted. Permission to engage?"

"Permission granted."

The snipers were perched on a small slope. Several cultists were brought to their knees, worshipping the great forces at work in the sky. That's the distraction they needed.

One by one, they were taken out, each cultist too caught up in some chaotic prayer to notice. Took less than a few seconds for the snipers to take out the group of five.

Marching along, slowly and steadily, Force Commander Nefaria and Librarian Markus led a group of four squads of terminators down a path to the city, they moved without incident for an hour before one of the terminators reported recognizing human voices ahead. Nefaria nodded and motioned for two of the squads to flank the voices along with Markus, he would take the other troops to approach them from the front.

Walking with his sword and bolter at his side, the impressive terminators behind him, Nefaria moved into the field of vision of a large group of knights and marines.

The transport craft began to eject long bodied parasite craft as it dropped towards the surface of the sea below. Fourty five of the smaller craft fell to the surface of the planet. Some were troop carriers or their infantry support vehicles. Since the two types of craft appeared almost identical except for the opening for the forward pointing weapon, it was difficult to tell which was which.

The thrid type of craft didn't float, but landed in the soft earth. The structures that looked like black twinkies began to change. First two boxes of rockets extended from the body of the craft. Then a section of the craft turned and moved out of the larger body on the heavy linked tracks.

The machines began to move and take up postions around the small city. Behind them the vast plumes of steam rose into the atmosphere as the transport lowered itself into the sea, turning the water into steam with it's plasma motors.

And from just in front of the now dead Cultists, he rose. A dark and formidible figure, clad in black armor; his body crackling with the arcane fire of the warp; but there was no mistaking his face, that face....Archon Lash, in all his corrupt glory stood before them; chuckling softly.

"So, they dogs of Azaha come again; hail and well met, Battle-Brothers!" He cackled softly as he advanced. "So, swine of the Inquisition; bastard children of Terra. What do you want of me? As you stand before your Master, shall you beg for mercy" He looked up, the skies roaring with primal energy. "You'll need alot more than mercy. Let me start you; Gracious Emperor of Mankind, hallowed be your majesty, bright be your light everlasting, vouchsafe your servant in this hour of peril-" In steady, mocking tones, Archon began to intone the Benediction of Terra...

Gaz'kul had found a couple of very annoying 'ummies, who kept gibbering on about some daemons being realease or some-such. "You, 'ake dese 'ummies to Gronsnik."
The orks grinned as they began kicking the 'ummies.
The orks brought the 'ummies to the lab/medical center, home to the Pain Boss Gronsnik.
"Gaz'kul want to give dese to youse."
Gronsnik grinned, revealing a massively mechanized jaw, as he gestured to an overlarge grot, with a major hump, and an Igor complex.
"Strap dese into the lab-tables."
The grot lifted the 'ummies and strapped them down.
With a maniakle cackle and a reving noise of a bone saw, he set to work.

The snipers blinked, they could not comprehend or bear what they are seeing, so they denounced it.

"Liar! Deception!" one yelled, , both snipers fired at Lash repeativly

The rest of the Knights closed in on the commotion, but still widely unaware as the snipers never commed this in.

The bullets slammed into his armor and he deflected one with his hand; he advanced, raising his bolter as he charged the snipers, opening fire with preternatural accuracy. He chuckled as he dodged another volley of shots and strafed their line with fire.

"I am no deception; I am the Archon; remade through pain and reborn through dedication...Happy are those who fall to me; mighty are the sigils of my rebirth, and great shall be the drumbeats of your doom." He lashed out; once, twice; three times with the Daemonblade.

"All who oppose our great work shall fall..."

The first sniper practically exploded with the bolter fire, the second falling prey to the daemon blade, never getting a chance to even try and dodge it.

Ricaurd and the rest of this force heard the bolter fire. "Troops? Troops?!" All he got was static. "Damn.. they're gone.."

He noticed a rusling around him, and so did everyone else. The stormtroopers broke for cover, while the Knights walked towards the wounds.

Then he saw the Space Marine armored men approach him. He raised his stormbolter, and so did the rest of his team. "Indentify yourselves or be slain like the Chaos you may be!"

Nefaria looked at the Grey Knight brigade, something had just happened to their scouts, apparently.

"Brother-captain! I am Force Commander Nefaria of the Laskonian Space Marine chapter. My forces are stopping an Ork advance a ways back at our drop point, and we were moving ahead to secure the city. If our goal is the same, perhaps we should move together."

Ricaud lowered his storm bolter, still looking wary.

"Hm... another splintered chapter I see. I am Brother-captian Ricaurd, of the Grey Knights, and the Ordo Malleus."

He looked the commander up and down.

"Depends on what your goal is..."

<Sir we have secured the landing zone>

<So be it...what is going on down there?>

<Karlord, the humans of the Imperium and those of the Dark Lords appear to be fighting>

<Quite...Send in a scout team to find out what is going on...how much longer until the event arrives in system?>

<Unknown, we are having trouble tracking it>

<So be it...>

Three of the ground craft, and two of the armored ground units turned towards the occupied city. Their job was to investigate why everyone was fighting there.

The runes spoke to him, whispering in their ancient and corrupt tongue; they told him their secrets; their history. The ancient stories; the horrors of the Warp; the power over the material realm. This could be his; this could be bent to the will of Mortal men...He chuckled softly, Yrrik let the power flow through him; closing his eyes as warp energy surged through two marines; their flesh twisted as Daemons infested them; their screams and roars sweet music now...

He knew what had to be done...

He brought his power to bear on a normal marine; dragging him to the ground, standing over him as his armor was torn asunder; madness and warpfire blazed in the eyes of Sorceror as he inked the symbols, minus the bindings; into the flesh....

The obelisk pulsated as though it were a living thing; rising; cracks spreading across the city as more of the ancient civilisation began to rise up. Buildings, those that remained anyway, collapsed into rubble, as great spires rose from the ashes...

The Marine's roar of pain faded, to be replaced by Daemonical whispering, the Daemon-entombed in flesh, rising over the sorceror, hissing as it felt its power flood its new form.

"What is your bidding, my Lord?"

OOC: So, seriously, Chron, are you really going to try sacrificing my guys to the Daemons?

IC:
The base was nearly done, only the east wall remained unfinished, oddly enough, the workers there had been pulled off to work on the north and south, fortifying against the most likely avenues of attack.

The X-COM operatives wer just hours from the planet, under half a day, there were 300 of them, and all were deadly capable, well trained and combat experienced, veterans, every swinging dick of them, and these were specially trained to face the Daemons of Chaos, they were ready to deal with the ones on Kirari.

The Interceptors blazed through space, scrambling over 3,000 X-Com operatives and agents as they made the run for the Homeworlds, in the days that followed their first mad rush, they would come to regret their haste.

OOC: Mini, you have to actually take part and stop boxing yourself in if you want to find out ANYTHING. Haven't you seen whats happening to the planet?
Any living being could be a sacrifice; it all depends on how many get killed; or how many start to get effected. So get involved in the plot.

OOC: Mini, you have to actually take part and stop boxing yourself in if you want to find out ANYTHING. Haven't you seen whats happening to the planet?
Any living being could be a sacrifice; it all depends on how many get killed; or how many start to get effected. So get involved in the plot.

OOC: I intend to, once I have a few more people here... Then my three characters and their bodyguards are going to do their thing.

I was just thinking that it would be pretty funny if you tried to actually sacrifice my guys, since their great hatred of your guys precludes capturing them alive.

OOC: *sigh* Well I'm not stupid enough to come in after you; so fine, wait, pariah yourself. This is the end of the OOC here; all other OOC comments, OOC thread.

The X-Com Troops were just 1 hour from the planet, close enough for the forces already on-site to start making their moves, The Blade God and his Darkling bodyguards, along with Feanor, his Praetors, and Iron Mike, the ACS commander and his Grim Reaper company, went looking for those they believed posed the greatest threat, the Chronosians, in total over 250 "people", and that is in the most liberal use of the term people, exited the gate and moved towards the nearby city, while the X-COM operatives sped ever closer, bringing much needed reinforcements to the badly depleted and battle weary squadron on Kirari.

Ricaud lowered his storm bolter, still looking wary.

"Hm... another splintered chapter I see. I am Brother-captian Ricaurd, of the Grey Knights, and the Ordo Malleus."

He looked the commander up and down.

"Depends on what your goal is..."

"We are here to stop the Chaos, brother, and to destroy all of its evil will over this place."

Nefaria turned his head to where the gunshots had been heard from earlier, he motioned to his terminators, who began to stomp over to the area.

"Perhaps we should investigate?"

The Imperium's dark presence was evident even on the outskirts of the ruined city, shattered houses and dead bodies were evidence enough for the men of that group, the only way they would have more proof is if they actually met any Chronosians as they entered the city itself.

"Well Feanor, looks like sombeody sure did a number on this place." The strong voice came from a massive suit of green, intricately designed, Demon-motiff powered armor, holding the squat juggernauit that commanded the two ACS units on this planet for the time being.

"Indeed Michael, I have seen less destruction left in your wake than there is in this place, and that frigthtens me greatly." Standing at over seven feet tall, corded with muscle and encased in a Zeralots cybernetic enhancement armor, the speakor was Feanor, commander of the entire mission, and master of the Praetorian with this Squadron.

"Stop being so depresing, both of you, I sense the taint of Chaos here, that worries me more than any combat, something about this place is not right." The third speaker was Turel, Blade God of the small hive on Kirari's moon, and the most sensitive to the workings of Chaos of the three, he had been touched by the power of Chaos before Kerrigan infested him and brought him into the hive.

The sorceror and his possessed marines rallied, making their way through the dead city as countless spires, walls, buildings, continued to rise; stretching for the skies as the energy of the warp coalesced about this damned world. Half sane packs of Cultists roamed the dieing city; even as Archon Lash headed back towards the Pillar; where something waited.

"Sorceror! Where are you? Yrrik!"

"Gone" The foul hiss came from the figure, who ran his hands now across the archaic surface as the pillar.

"What are you..."

"Countless.." it turned, its flesh a shifting amalgamation of flesh and mouths, gibbering insanely, whispering sweet and terrible caresses of the dark gods.

"You are one of those imprisoned?"

"Our civilisation will rise again" Fingers, clawed and bent, tapped the runes, the script flowing beneath his fingers; as the pillar crackled and a great and terrible bolt of warp energy roared skywards...

High above, the very fabric of space rent; the Warpstorm Behemiel tore into being once again, roaring through space, mauling time...the energy pouring forth in a catastrophic rainbow of searing color in the skies...

"It is done..."

Chaos Marines and cultists held their positions; openign fire as the Protoss and Zerg advanced; their weapons annointed with black purpose; their very existence to protect, as the city rose from the depths at last; great shimmering black edifices shattering the battleground, as it rose...

Ricauds face grew a bit grim.

"You may follow and assist... but we are here to purge the unclean, destroy the taint from this planet."

He started to walk forwards, the rest of his force following him.

"If you remember the proper procesdures of the Ordo Malleus... then you know that destroying chaos forces and icons is only the beggining of the purge..."

"I know of our code, Brother. I have a small fleet waiting in orbit for but my call to ravage this planet to every last being upon it. But we must first destroy whatever artifacts they have here...for whatever they are, they would have been vanquished long ago if mear orbital bombardment could destroy them."

His Terminators made hurried motions towards Nefaria, he nodded to Ricauds and moved over to the area they motioned to, two dead scouts bearing the grey knights insignia lay, both shredded to bits.

"Brother Captain, perhaps you should see this..."

The sorceror and his possessed marines rallied, making their way through the dead city as countless spires, walls, buildings, continued to rise; stretching for the skies as the energy of the warp coalesced about this damned world. Half sane packs of Cultists roamed the dieing city; even as Archon Lash headed back towards the Pillar; where something waited.

"Sorceror! Where are you? Yrrik!"

"Gone" The foul hiss came from the figure, who ran his hands now across the archaic surface as the pillar.

"What are you..."

"Countless.." it turned, its flesh a shifting amalgamation of flesh and mouths, gibbering insanely, whispering sweet and terrible caresses of the dark gods.

"You are one of those imprisoned?"

"Our civilisation will rise again" Fingers, clawed and bent, tapped the runes, the script flowing beneath his fingers; as the pillar crackled and a great and terrible bolt of warp energy roared skywards...

High above, the very fabric of space rent; the Warpstorm Behemiel tore into being once again, roaring through space, mauling time...the energy pouring forth in a catastrophic rainbow of searing color in the skies...

"It is done..."

Chaos Marines and cultists held their positions; openign fire as the Protoss and Zerg advanced; their weapons annointed with black purpose; their very existence to protect, as the city rose from the depths at last; great shimmering black edifices shattering the battleground, as it rose...


"What the hell is this?! Turel, what is this?!" Iron Mike was rarely frightened, right now, he was pissing himself, he had never had to fight against the terrain and his opponents at the same time befoerwe, and it was not an experience he wanted to repeat, but he and his would be fine, the terrawatt laser and auto-mortars of the Charlie Reapers were ripping loose into the enemy ranks, backed by the masive automatic Grav-Cannon of the Alpha and Bravo company units, spitting DU slugs at .5c towards the Chaos forces arrayed against them.

"I have never seen this before, but I know that this is the Taint I mentioned, I feel it calling me the way it used to, before I was reborn!" The Darklings were faring more poorly than the ACS, having lighter armor, but heavier weapons, unleashing Splinter bursts and grenade clusters at will, blasting away at those who stood against them, while Turel was firing his Shredder, a deadly energy weapon that fired ricocheting bolts of power, or explosive force, depending on the weapons setting.

Feanor and the Praetors (http://scgame.wz.cz/protossunits/vindicator.jpg) held the vanguard, standing reasonably safe behind their heavy shields and massive armor, a few of them had already fallen, but they were tougher than the others in the fight at the moment, meaning that they would likely be the first to have fire concentrated against them, and therefore the first to fall in any great numbers, but their massive guns would also do the most damage as long as they lived, meaning that their deaths would certainly be well balanced against the enemy losses. "Turel, how do we stop this,can you at least tell us that much?"

"We don't, short of destroying the Icons and stopping every Cultist on this planet, it seems to be unstoppable."

"'Our' code? We are with the Ordo Malleus, you you are a space marine chapter... though I respect you and your chapter.." He looked up ahead of him, to the raging maelstrom in the city, and the black fortress rising, "But this is somthing a bit our of your hands... black forces that threaten this planet, this system, this galaxy."

He continued to walk, doing so he glanced over at the dead snipers. "They will not be forgotten... first casualties of a great crusade..."

He and his men walked forth.

Though seemingly unstung by the comment, the emotion-less faced Nefaria began walking with his men parallel to the Grey Knights.

Markus remained calm and said nothing during the conversation, he had realized that the grey knight were not going to be enemies, but certainly weren't going to be allies, either.

As the Knights got closer, they became more and more cautious. Troopers leap frogged from cover to cover, while the Knights and Terminators advanced slowly, weapons drawn.

Ricaud motioned for the other Space Marines to follow suit.

Ricaud himself advanced, slowly, his Nemesis force halbred sparking with psi power.

Stormtroopers with heavy bolters set up on large rocks and tree stumbs, forcing in the feeding mechanism for the bullets, cocking, and aiming ready to give support fire.

The Knights took each step with care, with each step they scanned everything a possible threat, even investigating a shrub that looked suspicious.

Behind Ricaud's terminator squad, was Gabriel's terminator squad, lead by him. They flanked Ricaud's, and advanced further ahead, but a hundred feet off to the right more.

Soon there might be a chance of conflict.

As Marines fell, their souls were wrenched from their bodies; carried across the winds even as their brethern fought on; rockets and heavy bolter fire rocketed from alcoves and ruins; pummelling the oncoming line of enemies.

The Sorceror, meanwhile; stood before the gates of the immense building, running his hands along the shimmering black stone and the crackling, shifting runes upon it. "Yes..." He whispered; as his marines crowded about, and the very souls of the fallen poured before him. "Yes..."

The door would open soon; and this first world would fall to unholy doom; he doubted there were any who could stand against them now..
--------------------------------------

He rose behind the Grey Knights, chuckling and applauding, a wry smirk upon his face as his cloak fell about him.

"Bravo Ricaud. Bravo; such cowing of inferiors with your authority; you make even me proud" He stepped forward, chuckling softly. "I seem to have been given a promotion. Death can transform a man; I taught you to respect the arts of death, to fear Chaos. Never did I think that both would open my eyes. I am remade; reborn; the pale puritanisms cast aside. I am altogether radical now. You misunderstand the Imperium; they are not slaves to Chaos; they seek to tame it; bend it to mans will. If we can tame Chaos; then who could stop us Ricaud? Who would stand against the tide? The Ork? The Heretic? The pathetic Eldar and all manner of Xenos? None..."

He moved closer now.

"I am your Master; Ricaud. I am your acting superior...As I was the superior of the men who died for nothing on Azaha...For the Emperor who burned in warp fire, not even with time to escape his palace." He focussed on Ricaud. "Where have you been hiding?" He let his Will taint the words; forcing into his former comrades mind.

Tell me....

Nafaria and Markus moved with their terminators into an almost exact pattern. The Terminators arming their bolters, assault cannons, heavy flamers, and power fists, obvlious to the creature of chaos behind them with the Grey Knights, but Markus noticed.

"Brother captain...I sense the taint of chaos here."

He suddenly raised his force staff in alarm.

"Brother, a beast of Chaos!"

He charged with his force weapon.

Every unit in Ricaud's command swung around to see this figure, all immediatly reconizing the voice. They listened to his words, apprehensivly, with each step the Archon took forward, they raises their weapons higher, ready to strike, yet unable to fire a shot, for just the sheer sight of the Archon, adorned on chaotic armor, his once beautiful complextion, ruined by the taint, made everyone think twice.

Ricaud was the last to turn around. He peered at Lash, and stamped the butt of his halbred into the ground. He looked on and shook his head.

"Traitor... some how I knew this would happen... your radical ways would lay waste to our new home. How could you though... the most powerful of us... so easily tainted by Chaos...?"

He scoffed, "Pitiful."

He walked forward himself, but not in any agressive stance, instead he mocked the Archon with his steps.

"You are nothing special, we have dealt with rogue Inquisitors before..."

He looked over at a Space Marine brethren charging, and yelled, "No! You do not know who you're dealing with!"

To charge a Primarch, was sheer folly; to charge a Primarch once trained as a Grey Knight and gifted by the Ruinous Powers, was to invite death. He spun on his axis; bringing a cruel and crackling powerclaw to backhand the young upstart; before bringing the edge of the Daemonblade towards his chest...

He pushed past the charging Marine and turned again to face Ricaud, chuckling softly. "It was not easily done; I was at death's door; they saved me...from myself, from you and your decrepit order. They remade me; Primarch of my own Legion; they gifted me, blessed me; and you say you have fought my ilk before?" He bellowed with laughter. "If I am to be your Quixos, you must be my Eisenhorn. I shall play nemesis to your Captain Stern; and you shall go down in history. Ricaud; man who thought himself the better of a living god!" He defied his counterpart in every step, every breath.

"Do you not see the glory of what this world becomes? Every moment spawns new power. They rise; their power ascendant once more..."

Markus stopped and nearly stumbled before the creature, he stared at Ricaud, to the chaos beast, then nodded, and stood his ground, his squad of terminators standing behind him, their weapons ready, but lowered.

Nefaria felt less likely to obligue, his sword and gun both raised and ready, though he was farther from the fight then Markus was.

He scoffed again.

"You are not worthy enough to be my 'Nemesis', nor are you worthy enough to even be thought ill about. We are the warriors of the Grey Knights, armoured in Faith, Shielded by Devotion, and armed witht he Purity of Purpose, But greater even than these, we carry the light of the divine past Emperor of Man into the dark places to purge the daemonic wherever it may be found. You Archon, are just another daemonic presence that needs to be purged. Go back into your fortress, hide with your army, I give you that chance."

Orbiting the daemon plagued planet in the destroyer, the Defiant Shield, Marius held a look of steely determination that was echoed by his comrades, only fifteen of the seventy-seven Inquisitorial Storm Troopers were chosen for the arduous task ahead of them – the retinue was left behind. Breathing in deeply, Marius felt the presence of other holy soldiers, other warriors who still fought for the light and order. In the shadowy iron chamber the men of the Inquisition prepared to take the fight to those who sought to unlock the unholy secrets entombed on the cursed planet of blackened ash, closing his eyes shut, Marius Ark braced himself as the familiar electrical crackle coursed over his skin, bring hairs upright and sending a chill down his spine. Then, a great boom echoed in the Inquisitor’s ears and he was flung head first through eternity…

Ark was alive, that was for sure, if he weren’t, he wouldn’t of tasted the foul sulphur in the air and he wouldn’t feel he’d just been used as bridge between a generator and an industrial grade drill. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of Grey Knights, relief and emotion washed over him; the same couldn’t be said for his storm troopers, they had hellguns and their other specialized equipment raised, laser sights wavering on the gleaming armour of the mighty warriors. The red and black soldiers under Marius’s command gave the Inquisitor a sidelong glance of questioning, only when Marius raised his hand in a signal did the shuffle of weapons being lowered soothe the Inquisitor’s ears. Ark himself was of average height and garbed in a flowing incarnadine cloak that half concealed silver armour adorning his torso, grey was rampant in his once dark hair and his face held the lines of age rather well, he did have an air of majesty about him that was dampened somewhat by the years of having to avoid Chronosian patrols.

Gripping his force halberd, which he noted was startlingly similar to that of the Grey Knights, he was about to call out in a strong voice of diplomacy, one not meant to reveal the vulnerability of Ark’s situation should the silver clad warriors not be as friendly as Marius had first believed. Then he saw it, it was beautiful and repulsive at the same time, a prime example of how far the Chronosian Imperium had climbed only to plummet into the dark realm of Chaos. He raised his halberd not in challenge but in defence, the storm troopers retreated to Ark, forming a wedge with the Inquisitor at the fore. He cried out in a panicked voice as he felt his very resolve threaten to buckle under the beneficent visage of Archon Lash.

”You fools! Challenging a primarch? You’ll see the end of us all before we can stop the foul taint on this world spreading!”

"You speak as though I should be at your mercy." Archon focussed his considerable mind upon Ricaud, and pushed...He hissed as he stepped forward; malice in every movement; every step; every sharp intake of stale air.

"Come Ricaud, prove your worth. Are you a man, or are you filth? Degenerate" He sneered, forcing again with his mind. "Do not think me defenceless...Chaos has granted me powers you will never be privy to." He snapped his head to one side; focussing a warp vortex, a ravenous explosion of all consuming chaotic form against the Terminators; before his attention was drawn.

"And what have we here? One who respects true power; I assume...And you bear the old Markings; like the young one that came to me, that Remiel killed...An Inquisitor of Old Chronosia; simply marvellous. Is there no end to those who come before me?"

Ricaud sneered at Lash, and stood his ground. He resisted how he could, focusing his powers to put a sort of psi barrier around his mind.

He glanced over at the old Inquisitor, and growled. "This... traitor, a Primarch? Ha! A silly title will not save him!."

He stepped forth, his knights and troopers stepping away from Ricaud and Lash, giving them room. Ricaud hefted his halbred, it sparking more and more with energies.

"You think you and your blasphemous mind have power of me, Archon? Hm? You are sadly mistaken. The purity of the light shall always overcome the most powerful of daemons, and even lowly grunts as yourself."

Gronsnik had done much testing and alterations to the people.
The people who continued to claim daemons.
One had it's CNS removed and installed into a cybork spider body.
The other had been grafted onto a odd native animal, a horselike beast.

Meanwhile, the orks had been setting the 'ummies to work, farming, doing maintence and all other tasks that were unorky.

Nefaria swung forward, his sword in hand.

"Enough of this prattle! He is Chaos! We will destroy him!"

He fired his bolter pistol at Archon, then swung in with a low blow with his power sword crackling dark energy.

Yesef heard the horn. The eeiree sound chilled his blood for a moment. For it ment one thing, the enemy in sight attack.

The young human House Guard relaxed, allowing his muscles to move the green armor that covered his body. He marched up to the ridge with the rest of his squad. Like him they were humans, each carrying a tribarrel flettche gun attached to their power armor, the extra rounds in a large pack on their back.

Yesef looked out over the target, the ruins of a human city, being not demolished from above, but from below. The spires of some new city were rising up out of the ruins. Was this why they were here? Yesef was a grunt, and grunts were seldom told anything useful.

The eight foot tall Tarkill, A dragon like Var stepped next to Yesef. It was not his own Tarkill who was carrying a plasma grenade launcher, but an older Var with a force halabard.

Yesef sidestepped aware that the weapon was bladed on two ends. His visor blinked a warning and Yesef turned to see a assult tank creeping up now behind him. The black pill bug like machine hovered over the ground as it came to the top of the ridge.

A warning went out over the com that in a moment the tanks would open fire.

Yesef stopped for a second and located his squad. They would be on the right flank of a Grund. Some old timers said that the Grunds were nothing more than a Var version of the human dreadnaught. Somehow the idea of replacing the cold, calculating AI with an all but dead human seemed odd to Yesef.

There was an order, and Yesef turned with this squad and began their relentless march into the city. While the assult tanks began throwing tungstun shells silently into the air and the city beyond.

The Var had begun their assult, but why.

********

Aboard the carrier the Var Karlord approached the holotank and looked upon the display. His red eyes glowed out of the massive dragon like head, the razor sharp teeth were locked in an eternal grin.

<Push them from the Gate...It is time we claimed our prize. Prepare the second company to drop to the surface to support the Hellfire company>

<Yes Karlord...The fools have raised the city, and now we shall have its treasures>

TAG the end...

Ark was deeply alarmed, potentially powerful allies were displaying extraordinarily foolish judgement, believing they could take on a primarch, let alone a primach fuelled by the energies of the dark gods. The storm troopers were very uneasy, breathing heavily and many just wanting to flee the presence of this immensely powerful being. Marius knew he had to do something as his newfound allies were yet to realise this being was beyond even their admirable abilities but he wasn’t quite sure what, for the first time since he’d been forced to flee the Imperium, he felt doubt. The sturdy world Ark thought he’d made for himself came crashing down when he saw the primarch, bathed in daemonic power.

“Do not fool yourself that we place ourselves at your mercy, you may be strong but I’ve banished scum such as you back to the warp many a time, and I’ll gladly do so again!”

Halberd crackling in anticipation, Ark un-holstered his old plasma pistol, a weapon that had served him well for his entire lifetime, it had gold plating and was truly one of the only master crafted plasma weapons left. Taking in a deep breath, he rapidly brought the pistol to align with his shoulder and tilting his head to look down the barrel. The low whine of the plasma system in the pistol setting to work resulted in the electric stench that clung to the Inquisitor’s nostrils.

”I bid you, leave now, leave by whatever powers the defiling ones have given you and allow us to finish this at a later time under terms more honourable, if you still know what that word means!”

As Marines fell, their souls were wrenched from their bodies; carried across the winds even as their brethern fought on; rockets and heavy bolter fire rocketed from alcoves and ruins; pummelling the oncoming line of enemies.

The Sorceror, meanwhile; stood before the gates of the immense building, running his hands along the shimmering black stone and the crackling, shifting runes upon it. "Yes..." He whispered; as his marines crowded about, and the very souls of the fallen poured before him. "Yes..."

The door would open soon; and this first world would fall to unholy doom; he doubted there were any who could stand against them now..
--------------------------------------

He rose behind the Grey Knights, chuckling and applauding, a wry smirk upon his face as his cloak fell about him.

"Bravo Ricaud. Bravo; such cowing of inferiors with your authority; you make even me proud" He stepped forward, chuckling softly. "I seem to have been given a promotion. Death can transform a man; I taught you to respect the arts of death, to fear Chaos. Never did I think that both would open my eyes. I am remade; reborn; the pale puritanisms cast aside. I am altogether radical now. You misunderstand the Imperium; they are not slaves to Chaos; they seek to tame it; bend it to mans will. If we can tame Chaos; then who could stop us Ricaud? Who would stand against the tide? The Ork? The Heretic? The pathetic Eldar and all manner of Xenos? None..."

He moved closer now.

"I am your Master; Ricaud. I am your acting superior...As I was the superior of the men who died for nothing on Azaha...For the Emperor who burned in warp fire, not even with time to escape his palace." He focussed on Ricaud. "Where have you been hiding?" He let his Will taint the words; forcing into his former comrades mind.

Tell me....

The ACS was having the least trouble still, their guns and equipment were enough to take on the Chaos troopers and win, the powerful Bolters simply gouged holes in the armor most of the time, but every hole was another chance to have the man inside killed, and some were killed outright, a small patch at the throat was about the only weakness of this armor, but bullets found it eventually, punching through to kill the men within. Mike and the Bravo Reapers had broken off to the west, their intention was to circle around and add some "psychological effects" to the battle, Mike was very good at psychological warfare, and even the most fanatical will have trouble facing down a squad of 10 foot tall Daemons...

The movement of the Reapers was covered by the Darklings, they created hallucinations of the Reapers as they left the battle, since the Terrawatt laser was just concentrated light, it could still hurt, but the rest were unable to do any damage to the Chaos forces they faced, since a fake bullet can't "hit" anything. "Michael, please hurry, we are being pushed back here."

"I'm on it, gimme," Here he pauses to consult his Artificial Intelligence Device(AID), " five more minutes, then we'll be ready, and tell the rest of the guys to engage "Tiamat" when we do our thing, will you, music and all."

The Zerg were falling back, half of them were dead and they were having trouble holding their portion of the line, stretching the Praetors thinner than was safe, "Michael, make it sooner than that, my Darklings cannot hold another five minutes in these conditions." Deliverd with the calm of an ER doc, Turel was trul frightening, blades outstretched and gun blazing, as his mandibles oozed a deadly toxin, he was not a happy camper right now and the Chaos units would find that out to their misfortune soon enough.

The rift closes as a task force of the reken fleet exits the warp into normal space around the planet. The 40 battle barges and 20 strike crusers assemble around Naaman's command vessel.

"Sir they have arrived." reports a marine.

"Good, have the chapter leaders meet me in my battle room, we have a slight battle to wage." replies Naaman.

The Dekuli, all over their world paused as they heard the psychic message, the children listened for a few moments, then turned back to their games, the teenagers broke out of their Canyon Diving races and listened, old enough to worry at what it said, but young enough to be annoyed at the interruption of their race and the adults dropped what they were doing and listened intently, worried that it would disturb the peacefulness of their home.

"This is the Kirarri system; we are under threat from a warp storm; Behemiel comes again. We require assistance. The servants of the great enemy; the great enemy comes! The Adversary from the warp seeks its temples and its relics; its ancient treasures. The power; In the Emperors Name, protect us! The power corrupts more everyday....The end, the end draws nigh, save us! Save me! Liberate!"

Once the message ended the older Dekuli held a council, most letting others voice their opinions, some actively participating. There were many conflicting opinions and the council went for days, undecided. Eventually they decided on sending five element teams to see what was happening. Deciding on who to send took several more days. Many wanting to go, others wanting them not to. After the teams were decided on they left their planets surface, merged their ships for extra speed and so they would not get separated from each other and left for the Kirarri sector, unsure of what they would find there.

Archon let the crackling eneries of his powerclaw expand and coalesce, deflecting the bolter shells with ease; before focussing his mind on the Space marine advancing upon him. Lighting danced about the claws, as he lashed out against the Powersword; intent on breaking the young marine, mind and body...

"I could have him consumed by the very fires of the Warp, here and now if I so wished Ricaud!" His hiss echoed about all present "Shall we watch him burn?" He stepped forward; willing the Marine to lift into the air, as the warp vortex he had hurled early finally struck at Laskon's terminators; an all consuming whirlwind of pure chaotic energy. "I doubt he even knows what a Primarch is, let alone the extent of its power....Tell me little one? Do you know the ancient names? I shall be your Horus here; and your Fulgrim when you are at my mercy..."

He turned, chuckling to Marius. "Are we having fun yet, Inquisitor? You should advise your....friends, more cautiously." He forced his psychic ability forth, to tighten it about the Marine's rib cage, to shatter the enhanced bones and black Carapace is he so wished. "They seem a tad foolish to be descended from the Imperium of man. But you know better; you fled true power because you saw its black face; just as when the Eldar fell; Chronosia Fell. Look at the spoils, Inquisitor...Isn't it beautiful..."

He could no longer stand seeing the former Archon make a mockery of him, his men, and his new found allies. Sweat started to race down his face. Most of the stormtroopers had backed away, and were either breathing heavily, or not breathing at all, afraid to attract the attention of the Archon. His fellow knights grew even more apprehensive, fidgeting, ready to fight.

Finally, Ricaud decided it was time to act. He took a menacing step forward, switching his halbred from the right hand to the left. He thrusted his right hand out forward, pure energies starting to crackle on his gauntlet, his face contorted into anger and concentration. His words bellowed.

"By the purity of light of the Emperor, you shall burn, heretic! You shall make a mockery no more!"

He ran forward, the energies in his right gaunt growing, feeding from Ricaud's will. He got within several feet of Lash, and thrusted his hand out a final time.

"Burn heretic, burn!"

Suddenly, a light, brighter than the brightest sun, hotter than the hottest star, burst out of his hand. The light grew into a raging white inferno, engulfing Ricaud's gaunt, and speeding out towards the Archon. Ricaud did his best to direct the pure flame at Lash, and save anyone else close to him from the scorching fires.

Ark Marius’s features were filled with caution at the primarch, he was truly a figure of untellable power, he click caressed the staff of the halberd with an absent mind as he kept his eyes focused on Archon, his storm troopers yearning to turn and run but the iron willed inquisitor’s presence kept a firm rein on them. Casting a sidelong glance at his troopers, he noticed those with hellguns had turned the power setting to the highest – a vain but worthy precaution, what Ark would’ve done for a dozen of the old Grey Knights, not the headstrong marines he had here. Things had definitely taken a turn for the worse, with even a mighty warrior of Laskon held in the air by the awe inspiring power of the forsaken primarch.

“Fun? What a tainted mind you now bear, however, Archon Lash, the spoils are most intriguing…however, only a deviant would try and manipulate such potent yet dark and unpredictable forces to his own end!”

Only then, did Marius note the aura surrounding Ricaud, it spoke of rage and concentration, focus and determination; it spoke of an impending psychic assault. The Inquisitor’s fears were realized when after stepping forward in challenge, Ricaud’s gauntlet suddenly flared aflame, a glorious white flame that spoke of the old times, times when good and order reigned in the Imperium. A time before the fall of the Chronosian Imperium and time before the rise of chaos in the once holy and devout empire. Marius only had a second to scream before Ricaud’s hand erupted into a psychic powered flamethrower:

”No! You fool!”

"Wen we come above the heretic forces we shall iniate our attack" Naaman anounces. "all marines be ready for drop in three standard hours." Naaman deactivates the PA system and heads to his quarters to dawn his own armor.
***** Three hours later*****

"Target the attack on chronosians rear forces, if we can cut off their reinforcements our allies on the ground may have a fighting chance." Naaaman orders as he enters his personal Thunderhawk."when the second wave arrive have them launch to these locations."

"Yes master sargent." the captian responds. "Prepare for launch in 5....4...3...2..1...launch!" The captian calls over the PA as the drop pods and thunderhawks streak away from the battlebarges. a small orbital bombardment leads the droppods way to stop only seconds before the pods are to land.

"Here I come Remiel."

OOC: Ok, Reken....Remiel ain't there :P

IC:

Archon's attention turned instantly from the Marine, whirling like a struck animal as he sent the vast psychic power that had been focussed upon a single body forth against Ricaud. The Flame, the Light, met the darkness and both crashed into each other; a roaring cacophany of warpfire that seared their eyes; yet as it dissapated, he was upon him; lunging through the fading flames; crackling Daemonsword raised high to strike down upon him. The skull laced hilt's eyes crackled with dark devotion, eras of unspeakable hunger forced forth against this foe.

"I always was the master, Ricaud; was not my statue proudly displayed in our great halls? Was I not your brother!?" He roars with unspeakable anger, black charisma.

Be my brother again....

OOC:
Chronosia, my Force Commander attacked you, he is somewhat stronger than an average Marine, I'd prefer if you stopped doing that.

OOC: And my Primarch, considerably more powerful than a force commander, took the attack head on, and then focussed his full psychic potential on you, on the last page; while you ignored the Warp Vortex attacks on your terminators.

I'd appreciate if you'd stop doing that and properly reply.

Also given that your entire knowledge of Wh40K seems gleaned from Dawn of War, you should probably be informed of what a Primarch is.

The Primarchs were the leaders and source of geneseed for the original Space Marine Legions. SUperhuman warriors, created by the Emperor himself.

Mine, of course, are made from my Emperor, but are meant to Mirror the level of canonical Primarchs.

He has, of course, ceased his assault on you now; but I'd appreciate if you RPed the effects; as I RPed my armor richoceting the bolter rounds

Ricaud raised the handle of his blade to meet Lash's daemon blade, the pure crackling nemesis force weapon barely able to hold the blade at bay. He pushed back, trying to overpower him physically, as Lash was never strong physically... and now he hoped that hadn't changed.

"You are *not* my brother! You were *never* the master! You were always enslaved by the warp with your radical ways! I was never your brother, and I will never be yours now!"

He pivoted his right hand downwards to level on Lash's head, then he started to blast away with his stormbolter as he tried to hold the blade at bay.

Roaring in anger, pain and fury; face controrted in daemoniacal madness; he lashed out; even as his armor tore and shattered; his howling blade forced down against the force weapon; his ornate and defiled Aegis armor cracklijng with warp sigils and runes as he fought back; blood flowing from his body.

"It will take more than that to kill me Ricaud" He hissed, steppijng backwards; raising his bolter to litter his foe with explosive shells. "We already have our victory..."

Ricaud raised his left arm to cover his face, then pivoted his body to the side so that the bolter shells ddidn't get him in the head. His armor was chewed up little by little before the rest of his knights finally joined in.

The Knights raised their own stormbolters and psyker cannons, and started to unleash a pure hell, the terminators in turn started to step infront of Ricaud to shield him, them also blasting away.

"Your victor shall be sending you into the warp to never touch this plain of existance again!"

Marius watched the events unfold and felt a pang of distaste for the Grey Knight, who, rather than continuing the duel honourably, had called upon the aid of his fellow Knights…Marius only hoped that this didn’t provoke the grand daemon into smashing the comparatively weak but literally mighty marines aside like rag dolls. The stormtroopers were cautious and were unsure what to do regarding the maelstrom of melee hand to hand, most were fearful of going anywhere near the mighty daemon blade, Marius was stunned.

What was he going to do.

While the Inquisitor pondered, the halberd crackled eagerly while Ark’s grip on the staff ever tightened…

OOC: Fancy Tag, my guy lands and starts driving around,
http://www.newtek.com/products/lightwave/lw-gallery/albums/Sci-Fi/375.jpg
His ship, full of his band of rouge people bounty hunter guys.
************************************************************

A small flash of light near the Nergal system ( planet ) appeared, and a small ship was visible for a few seconds before it again disapeered into the blackness.

" Shit! Doug!, what the hell just happened? "

" Well sean, it would appear that we suffered a major error when we engaged the FTL drive, I'm getting a damage report in now. "

The tiny ship belonged to a team of bounty hunters, wanted in about 30 nations now for illegal smuggling and murder, and charges such as that.

The ship was stolen from the Terran Navy and has recived many upgrades over the years. Its crew had managed to keep it in good enough shape. But the dim lighting and that run down feel made any visitor know it was not a naval vessel.

OOC: I guess any ships hail it or somthing?

The Warp. The Immaterium. The Empyrean. The realm of Chaos. No matter what you called it, it remains a dark and terrible realm of daemons and unseen horrors. An empty void of energies and formless adversaries. These were the thoughts of Rogue Trader Conrad Reinhart as he stared dull eyed out of the bridge view port of his ship, The Celestial Bastion. It was an altogether dull experience, weeks on end of quiet nothing. He had heard that ships travel through the warp at their own risk, being attacked by daemons and being sent to distant parts of the universe by malevolent intelligences. Not once had anything ever happened to him in the Warp, not once.

Tearing his gaze from the boundless excitement that was the empty, dull Warp, he glanced around to see if there was anything more interesting to do. The bridge was plain, the only decoration were the crew chairs that they had stolen from Cygon 12, large and comfortable, well worth the criminal status he now had there. Aside from them, the rest of the bridge was metal, from doors, to walls, to consoles, all made of the same silvery metal. Luckily the manufacturers had decided to make the buttons out of something else, giving the place a little colour at the very least. The flickering fluorescent lights didn’t help the situation, there used to be a way to change from white lighting to red lighting depending on the situation to give some gravitas to ship to ship communications. Unfortunately they had long since been broken, leaving the bridge with both sets permanently on, bathing the bridge in a state of twilight as the white lights flickered on and off in comparison to the constant red lights.

It was currently being staffed by 3 of the regular crew, easily denoted as such since they’re only armed with solid shot pistols. Any non essential personnel would have been far more heavily armed and would have worn some form of armour. He set aside some idol thoughts of berating them based on some fictitious performance report since that would have involved far more effort than would be worth the enjoyment of seeing his crew squirm.

“Crewman, where are we?” asked Conrad in the usual tone of a bored commander.

“No idea, the Navigator shot himself just after the staff briefing when we entered the Warp.”

Conrad mused on this news, stroking his beard as he thought, “That’s the fifteenth one, they all seem so very normal and stable, but as soon as they see Kelrac and myself after we enter the Warp, they all kill themselves. It really is extraordinarily irritating. So I take it were following another one of Kelrac’s hunches again?”

“Yes, Sir” replied the Crewman.

No matter how many times it happened Conrad was still amazed by how well Kelrac’s hunches went, considering they shouldn’t pay off at all. The number of times they had found massed stashes of wealth or long forgotten Archo-Tech was astonishing. Then again they were almost always guarded by some lame cult to some stupid ideal or daemon, but they were never a match for organised, well prepared attacks they didn’t expect. This time should be no different; they’d probably appear on the edge of some planetary system with an amazing wealth of treasure just waiting, begging to be taken and after all, he couldn’t just refuse those in need. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

"Crewman! Bring us back into Realspace, let's see what we've got this time..."

OOC: i know but Naaman assumes that a primarch would lead a liegon into battle and Remiel is one of the only two he knows.

IC: The orbital barrage stops only a matter of seconds before the pods come crashing down into the Chronosian force accompannied by a swarm of Thunderhawks and assault troops unleashing all they have on the chronosian force. As the drop pods open up they unleash a hail of fire as almost all of them contain mounted weapons. Another barrage of drop pods fill the sky. The second barrage landing only seconds after the mounted drop pods run out of ammo, they unleash the full force of the Dark wolf marines.

The second set of drop pods land behind the Chronosian force, the marines pile out of the pods opening fire on the rear flank of Chronosia. Patching into the Azaha comm:

-This is Master Sergent Naaman of the Dark Wolves, we are at your assistance on the far side of the Chronosian force, if you can reach us.-

OOC: As i said, extensively in the sign up; this thread is Character centric; Armies at a MINIMUM!

Ricaud raised his left arm to cover his face, then pivoted his body to the side so that the bolter shells ddidn't get him in the head. His armor was chewed up little by little before the rest of his knights finally joined in.

The Knights raised their own stormbolters and psyker cannons, and started to unleash a pure hell, the terminators in turn started to step infront of Ricaud to shield him, them also blasting away.

"Your victor shall be sending you into the warp to never touch this plain of existance again!"

Archon slid back, hissing as the bullets struck his armor, sundering flesh beneath; drawing roars of pain from his lips. He felt the runes shift and crackle across metal; felt his rage boil forth, as he lashed out with psychic force; a smaller, yet more concentrated warp vortex to draw their fire; followed by a grenade volley; as he sprinted out into the night; the stygian shadow of the sundered world. He hissed, wounds sizzling with psychic force.

Finally, someone worth killing; a battle worth fighting....

Mike and his squad had reached their position, now the engaged their active camoflague, making them look, much more... impressive, covering the standard Reaper suits with holograms of ten foot tall Chaos Daemons, while the ones back with Turel and Feanor engaged Tiamat, one of the first holo-psych mods that Mike made, with enough power the ACS could "fly" under a combination of anti-grav and impellers, and they did, under cover of their massive, many-headed dragon hologram, and then the music started, wailing of gitaurs and hammering of drums, a caterwauling shriek ripped loose, its sound was nearly a physichal thing, shaking the Darklings and the Praetors to their very souls with its primal fury, then, they redoubled their attack, unleashing every weapon they had, while Mike and his men hit them from the flank, the Praetors and the 5 remaining Darklings advanced behind the massive "dragon", blasting away witrh every weapon they had, while Turel and Feanor went looking for the source of this insanity.

The Doors....The doors of light and darkness had opened for him; he had seen the faces of the gods themselves; yes; gods! Yes! What else would they be, could they be...What....What else?

The sorceror trode the very corridors of power; letting the arcane energy of this place flow; fuelling him, guiding him. Within the darkness, there were countless weapons; and as the Host led him, as it took him deeper into power and madness; he began to understand.

Their ancient civilisation had been purely devoted to war and bloodshed; the oppression of the mortal cattle feeding their own gluttonous powers. They had expanded, an immense city, spanning the globe; tunnels and vaults leading to other cities. Darkness as much a part of the city as light; pure and blinding, chaotic light....

Yes...They would lead him to glory....They would lead him to purity in damnation....

bump

OOC: As i said, extensively in the sign up; this thread is Character centric; Armies at a MINIMUM!


OOC:well i said a second set wich is anywhere between 4-alot of dropships so considering i was rping i didnt specify.

The knights kept firing long after Lash had dissapeared into the bush, tearing down what ever plant life had been blossoming.

After several minutes, the knights stopped, and Ricaud stepped forward.

"We shall find this heretic, and send him into the warp where he belong-!"

Just then Ricaud, and more of his knights cringed, some almost fell. The chaotic powers were getting stronger and stronger, the warp was coming, coming to consume the planet.

In the distance, fire could be heard... most likely others drawn to the message sent by the cultists.

"Knights! Troopers! Move out!"

As the troopers and knights marhced forward again cautiously, Ricaud looked back at the Inquisitor and sneered, then followed his men.

A Dreadnaught drop pod enters the sky as Naaman and his strikeforce prepare to move out. Landing, the pod hits the ground creating a small crater. The doors fall to reveal a woman, her spacemarine armor form fits to her body. Chains comming from under her wrist armor, chains seem to hold her to the base of the pod. Her armor subtly changes from the color of the spacewolves to that of the Dark angels consumes all light that attempts to reflect off of it. Jerking suddenly at the chains they almost magically retract into her armor as two swords one from each chain fly into her hands, the sleek weapons show slightly glowing engravings along the blades along with a jewel that seems to fade in and out of existance. Two pistols lay holstered, one to each thigh as she looks around seeking somthing out...

"Naaman, its time to go." she states as she walks out of the drop pod.

The knights kept firing long after Lash had dissapeared into the bush, tearing down what ever plant life had been blossoming.

After several minutes, the knights stopped, and Ricaud stepped forward.

"We shall find this heretic, and send him into the warp where he belong-!"

Just then Ricaud, and more of his knights cringed, some almost fell. The chaotic powers were getting stronger and stronger, the warp was coming, coming to consume the planet.

In the distance, fire could be heard... most likely others drawn to the message sent by the cultists.

"Knights! Troopers! Move out!"

As the troopers and knights marhced forward again cautiously, Ricaud looked back at the Inquisitor and sneered, then followed his men.

"Come Ricaud. Come, let me educate you." A blast of warp energy hurtles from the shadows; aiming for his men. About them the landscape shifts again; moving in a way that would leave Ricaud isolated; trapped.

"Let me tell you Ricaud; what I have seen. I have seen the glory of Azaha fall; I have seen the blackness rise and the Chaos take my tattered body, I have fallen..But I wanted to do good, I wanted to aid you old friend." He steps from the shadows, tears staining his eyes. "I need only a chance to redeem myself..." And then he is gone, the image is gone; and behind Ricaud; the true warp spawned horror that is Archon Lash, chuckled; raising his daemon blade. "And to redeem you..."

Aluroa, charges foward attacking the chaos men from behindswords flailing madly. Naaman catches up to her as she draws her pistol and pulls the triger as a projectile leaves the muzzle flying toward Archon Lash.

OOC: obviously you don't understand the concept of him and Ricaud being alone....Isolated...

OOC: sorry, i misread.


IC:Aluroa, Naaman and their small force cleave their way through any resitance that comes their way. Naaman stops Aluroa and the group as he points at a mass of chaos corrupted men and states to Aluroa:
"the 101st, in our last offensive agunst Chronosia, they turned on us and shall pay the price for their betrayal."

"May their deaths be quick and permanent." Aluroa states as she charges toward the mass, pistols flaring.

Crashing into the 101st Aluroa draws her swords as her dance of death takes its toll. Naaman takes half of the force and surrounds the 101st attempting to prevent escape as the rest follow Aluroa, keeping their distance from the primarch for their own safety.