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--Daemon world Stratos-2, somewhere on the outskirts of the Damocles Gulf--


Deafened, white noise. Blinded, white lights. Cackling, rippling lances of lightning seemed to tear through the aether like an otherworldly storm, battering the malformed soil without relent and setting aflame the bloody vegetation. Jolting, heavenly flames parted for a celestial tear through the Materium; the ancient contraption that enabled this cacophany whirled as the coils of luminous energy pulsated. It was a large anchor of sorts. An ancient portal that connected one world to the next like a chain. Whether the beginning of such a link was halfway across the galaxy, it mattered not. Within mere seconds, entire armies could manifest from the mere flicker of this unfathomable network of Xenos sin. Such was the webway, such were the enigmatic creations of the despicable Eldar and their melodic witchcraft. How living, solid constructs could be weaved from the ghastly tune of an alien flute... Well...

...It did not matter now. The Eldar that once guarded this anchor have long since met their scourge -- Elfin faces of anguish and terror now embossed this pylon, static in their suffering,

But the toils of the Xenos did not cross the mind of the corrugated figure that emerged. Kragoth's mind had been - for but a split second - torn asunder while his mortal body was ripped from Imperial space and into a realm of stellar light, by how he did not know. Even the ferocious roar of the bloodstained chainblade was drowned out for whatever banshee shriek this void had wrought. Nevertheless, his vengeful mind still thirsted for the blood of the fallen, the pain of loss coursing through the sinew of his ebbing sanity. He failed the citizens of Triandr; he failed his chapter once again, and he had escaped from certain death likewise, like a coward. The last Rainbow Warrior - the renegade marine - had failed to proudly face his death like a true Astartes. Heavy, mournful breathing escaped from the inert vox grill, it's metal sheen now rusted with age. As the Veteran Sergeant tread forward, his delirium passed, and as the cape of white parted, Kragoth knew that he was no longer on Triandr. Where he was upon the galaxy made no difference at this moment, only that he had trespassed upon a world of hideous nightmares.

The ground squelched with each heaving footfall, but the terrain itself was not moist, but riddled with vile arteries that colourfully erupted as Kragoth stepped forth. These verdant hills of blood and bile continued on for miles down the hillside. Now clear sighted, the Veteran Sergeant could survey from this cliffside the uncountable array of snarling, bestial maws, carved by inhuman hands into the jutting cliffs. Distorted screams of Human agony tormented the Astartes' ears with each passing blow of the wind, complete with the perpetual stench of filth and excrement. The sky had been permenantly stained with a deep red hue, and eldritch clouds thundered above, nebulous tendrils protruding in and out of these condensed bodies. However, none of this held any sway over the Marine; the raw panic and fear that such images would evoke from the regular fellow was something that the Astartes could not even pretend to feel. Ever vigilant, he plunged himself forward and descended the living cliff, leaving the secluded gate to simmer.

An abandoned encampment awaited him, the mutilated bodies of various thralls and mortal sacrifices littered the site, likely to appease some unspeakable idol. Where in the Emperor's name such denizens had fled to troubled Kragoth little, for by such divine fortune, he'd found himself a lone vox emitter, heeding the gargled babbling within one of the bunkers. Slowly but surely, the Astartes sauntered forth toward a bloodied table, where the machine in question sat, guarded by yet another of the maimed carcasses, slumped and headless. Kragoth mused to himself, that if he could not escape this visage of the warp, he could at least note where the heretics congregated. He would have the satisfaction of dispatching them himself.

But would there be others that listened in to the foul gurgling? For as far as the Veteran Sergeant was bitterly concered, he was alone.

-- Atastasia's Requital in orbit above Vasquez's Glory; Damocles Gulf --

Lord-captain Anastasia Charc strode to the bridge with murder in her mismatched eyes the tails of her long coat flapping behind her. The world below was a charred husk when it should have been a thriving hive world. T'au and humans had laid side by side. Struck down by bolter fire but this did not have the signature of the Holy Inquisition.
"Captain on the deck!" yelled Commander de Couna.
"Status reports!"She barked as she took her place on her throne.
"Small craft are home and locked down, sir"
"The ritual have been preformed and the machine spirits await your orders my leigue." Said Thadius.
"Good." Said the captain before punching a button on her chair. "Lady Unna have you a route for us?"
"Yes... but it is much short than I would have liked. There are many storms out there."
"I know you're doing your best." said the captain reassuringly. "All hands to manoeuvring stations set course to transition point."
There was a chorus of yes sirs and the ancient vessel began to move.

The bridge was filled with the sound of a well trained crew preparing for transition. Anastasia sat back in her chair not slumped but resting. Her mind wondered to the past and the pit she had dragged herself out of; to the man who had seen potential in her. Her place of birth and adoptive home both lay close to the Maelstrom and had been on constant alert for attacks from traitors and heretics. It had never been under the constant siege like Cadia but it had provided it's share of troops for the Guard. The 65th Regiment of which had been gifted to her and now were with the bowls of her beloved Requital.
There was a change that pulled her back to the here and now.
"All stations report ready for transition, Lord-Captain." Reported her XO.
"Very good." She said whilst getting to her feet. "Thadius begin the rite of transition."
"As my Captain wills it." Said the tech priest.
There was a sound more felt than heard as the warpdrive tore a hole in reality. The Requital slipped in to the unreality of the warp.
"Transition complete, the Navigatrix estimates a traverse of one week ship time."
"Very good, Tristan you have the bridge."
"As you command Lord-Captain."

The bunker was more akin to some gallery of terror and degenerecy, as the Veteran Sergeant scanned the deserted confines; his mind was not driven by disbelief, but contempt. Wrinkles of ripling, ruddy flesh covered the bunker interior like some colony of meaty fungus. Sprouting from the walls with sharpened stalks of bone and cartilidge, forming together one by one to bring about some fang-laden, abstract parody of the mouth. The grotesque maws were darkened, like bottomless pits, and they moaned some atrocious vocal haze that made the ears of the Marine cringe in total disgust. He desired to render these accursed parasites mute, to return what lesser Daemons that inhabited these blobs of gore back to the warp. But that would indeed be a waste of ammunition; bolter rounds were difficult to come by when one was a lone renegade. The Marine dared not imagine what other eyesores awaited within this base. The sooner he left, the better, even if danger was ensued.

The vox had been switched off, but it seemed to operate well as Kragoth activated the bloodstained machine. This base had clearly been left whole and untouched, so how - or perhaps why - had these accursed heretics been so brutally dispatched? It mattered not in truth, they would've endured a far more abject death at the hands of the Marine's venerable chainblade. Vile ramblings of rushed, gutteral gibberish were emitted from the tainted vox, and Kragoth knew full well that this was not the effect of a bad signal. Such ghostly babbling were merely another manifestion of the Daemonic influence. Any tweaking of the Vox itself seemed to accomplish little, but replace the crazed voices with another legion of damned souls. That was until Kragoth had caught a maddened, but coherent expression laced within the weavings of the vox.

"Defend the left flank, you curs! If these aliens get through, it will not be their blood that stains my blade!" Kragoth listened in curiously.

"These gates will not hold against plasma!" Another Chaos Marine retorted, their voice distorted under the vocal grill. An explosion commenced less than a moment after, accompanied by the moving of various machine limbs and photonic zaps.
"By the visions of Tzeentch, we are surrounded by Tau invaders!"
"Well then, these children will learn the foolishness of beseiging a Demon fortress."
"Were the sacrifices enough for the incantation?"
"Only Khorne may judge, and we may join him in the warp should our offering be insufficient. But until then, we shall not relent to the young and feeble. Scions of the Dark Pantheon, let us feed this parched world with the blood of these vermin! Only then shall we be exhalted in the eyes of the Gods! TO BATTLE!"

A cacophany of roars and cheers dominated the vox stutterings, as well as the explosive batterings of tainted bolter fire. And that was all that the Marine desired. He switched off the emitter, exiting the chamber of living flesh. Only a quick glance was required to catch the fortress of corrugated steel, under fire from the blinding strobes of alien weaponry. A few miles off the horizon, it would not take long for the Astartes to make his debut upon the siege. However, the Tau were Xenos; such creatures would make for very uneasy allies, assuming that they did not open fire immediately.

Regardless, Kragoth began his journey toward the Daemonic bulwark, there was nothing left for him here.

Anastasia was jarred suddenly from her sleep by the howl of the sirens. They had transitioned much too early. She sprang from bed barely remembering to grab her coat on her way out.
“Report.” Demanded the Lord-captain as she stormed onto her bridge.
“Warpstorm, Ma'am.” Said Commander de Couna.
“My lord, T'au in orbit.” Reported the master of Augurs.
“What world is that?” Asked Anastasia.
“Unknown; it's marked Haereticus est Excommunicatus by Inquisitor Sherlock-Clouseau.” Said de Couna.
A hush descended across the bridge at the mention dread Inquisition. A smile crossed Anastasia's face at the thought of the profit to be gained. All she needed to do is find out what the Inquisition was hiding. The T'au was an obstacle to overcome; or perhaps an opportunity to be taken advantage of.
“Plot an intercept course, Engines to three quarters all hands to battle stations.” Order the Lord-captain.
She waited as her orders relayed. The ship shuddered as the engines were brought to life and her beloved ship turned towards it's prey.
“Captain,” Said the Master of Augurs. “There appears to be a battle on the surface.”
“Ah, the day gets better.”Said Anastasia before she pressed the vox in her chair. “Colonel Stal; get the 65th ready for ground assault.”
“Yes ma'am.” Came the reply.
“Hauptmann be a dear and get my Valkyrie ready. Commander you have the bridge I must get dresses.” Said Anastasia as she stood and left the bridge.

She dressed efficacy. The Hauptman would have her armour waiting for her. Her eyes found themselves drawn to the weapon locker. A nervous tremor ran through her at the thought of what laid secured with in. the sword Warpbane. All the psyker on her ship had recoiled from it when she had recovered it from the forbidden tomb. It was of a simple form but the material it was made of was far from simple. Calling it black was a disservice; it was like a gap in reality. It was a weaponized absence and made all who looked upon it uncomfortable. For all that Anastasia knew that the the tread of her fate was linked to it and if the Inquisition had excommunicated the world below she would need it. Opening the safe she strapped the sword to her belt.

“We are with in optimal range Captain.”
“Target their engines and fire at will.”
Form their concealed locations thousand of shells and missiles spewed forth from the Requital and torn apart the engines of the T'au ship giving it over to the mercy of the planets gravity.
“Well done master gunner; give us cover for landing.” Said Anastasia as she stood form her throne. “Command the Requital is yours; if you're good I'll bring you a present.”

The sky was lit up by what all assumed were shooting stars before the explosions started.

The Rainbow Warrior's motives were impulsive at best, as he trudged without tire or second thoughts over the plains of wirey red flesh. This calm before the storm had perhaps given him some moments to piece together this amnesiac jigsaw; memories that did not follow a straight course lay jumbled within the Marine's mind. It was as though passing through that alien gate had fizzled them out of place somewhat, and the flashing strobes that descended from the sky did nothing to remedy his partitioned psyche. Revving the heavy chainblade as this fortress of ruin came into view, it appeared that Kragoth's memories could only be retrieved through bloodshed.

Panic in the Astartes' mind was utterly void. Even as the he surveyed the fortress being levelled by fluorescent beams of plasma fire. Strange, ethereal noises whizzled and whirled while hovering machines entered the gothic fortress of obsidian. Xenos battlesuits soon accompanied the siege, alongside a large cadre of fire warriors, pelting the host of chaos with a flurry of glowing death. Of course, this act of aggression was not without a violent response, as desecrated artillery rounds screamed toward the Tau forces, smashing the vehicles of these invaders and throwing them to the ground. Clouds of black smog soon engulfed the Daemonic keep; Kragoth would slip among both Tau and traitor there. His quickened pace and heavy footfalls betrayed any semblence of subtlety, he cared not for allies among the alien.

"Look!" A Shas'la noticed from outside the keep, his arm protruding in the direction of the Astartes, now consumed by the smoke. "Another of the Gue'la madmen! Should we open fire, Shas'ui?"

"Hold your rifle intact for now, young hunter." The superior replied his voice fuzzing through the helmet of his battlesuit. "That Space Marine isn't like the others we've faced. While you cannot sway a rabid hound like these to reason, perhaps this one could make a suitable shield for our cadre."

The Shas'la nodded. "He shall die for the Greater Good."

"Indeed..."

Kragoth lunged apace within the keep; luckily for him, the portcullis had already been melted by the xenos plasma. He met his first victim within mere seconds, dumbfounded by the sight of a lone loyalist. The Chaos Marine's head was bare and bold, perfect target practice for the chainblade; the Astartes' head was cleaved messily in two until he finally slumped onto the ground with a deathly clank. His urge for bloodlust sated for now, Kragoth surveyed his kill. The armour was coal black, with golden stripes layered across the metal pillars that all Space Marines considered to be their boots. Kneeling, Kragoth inspected the pauldron; the metallic face emblazoned upon it was unmistakable:

Iron Warriors.

Her armour was one of the last relics from her time in the Adaptus Arbites. The only others being some of her Praetorian guard. Hauptmann Emil Narcot-Charc tapped Anastasia's shoulder informing her that her armour was just so. She nodded to her old friend as she pulled her coat back on then reached for the vox to give her usual speech to the 65th.
“Once more onto the breech dear friends, Once more. Again we shall bring the Emperor's light to another world, His justice to the wicked and his mercy to the innocent. In his name we conquer.”
“At Anastasia's command we advance; In the Emperor's name we conquer.” Came the reply.
The engines of the Valkyrie came to life and it became one of hundreds that poured forth from the Requital. The drop ships of the 65th Kronos 'Anastasia's Own' mixed arms regiment plunged through the atmosphere.
“The blue skins are sending up interceptors.” Reported the pilot.
“Let the Thunderbolts chase them off.” Commanded Anastasia. “ Have you located a space port?”
“Yes my lord.”
“Good That's our target along with the 1st battalion. The 2nd,3rd and forth shall land on the north, south and west respectively then secure and clear towards the centre. The 5th will land the far side of the T'au and contain but not engage. The rest of the regiment will form an outer perimeter.”

The T'au air caste was sweept from the skies by the battle harden veterans of Anastasia's air wing. The cultists left to guard the space port had no idea what hit them as the Valkyries screamed down. The hatch dropped and the Praetorians ran out to secure the area. Checking her side arm was fully charged the Rogue Trader picked up her Aquilla and head held high walk down the ramp. Once she was clear the carft took off to provide air support. Anastasia looked around as her Spread out in their highly trained way. Covering each other as they moved from cover to cover. She slammed the Aquilla into the ground.
“I, Anastasia Charc, claim this world in the name of the Emperor of Man and His Imperium. I bring justice and truth for the loyal, punishment and death for the guilty, and the spoils I take by my own hand.” She said, her words broadcast far and wide.
The formalities completed she walked to join her Praetorians who were exchanging fire with the cultist holed up in the main building.

The besieged traitors gave no quarter to these upstart Aliens. Daemon fueled lasfire manifested from the castle towers, as beams of purple hue scorched the advanced carapaces of the Tau vehicles. However, the combined forces of both the Tau and these invasive thralls of the False Emperor - regardless if they were allied or not - proved to be overwhelming. The Lascannons soon turned toward the Imperial vessel above, hammering the ship with Daemon-charged fire. The beams themselves seemed to shriek in abject terror as the hellish light was hurled toward the tumultuous sky. This change in target allowed the Tau infantry to move through the sharttered portcullis unscathed, greeted to the entrance of a medieval arch and the mutilated corpse of a Gue'la madman. Uncauterised by plasma fire, it was clear that this was the work of no Tau weapon.

It mattered not in truth; the Tau intruders were torn to cerulean giblets by bolter turrets and Astartes defenders. Even as they were besieged on two fronts, and the Iron Warriors would not relent 'till the bodies of their invaders numbered enough to scale the tallest mountains. The second wave of this siege had began; the Tau battlesuits moved in through the archway, pelting the corrupted Astartes with blinding railshots.

Kragoth himself had somehow avoided the onslaught of Iron Warriors, hauling himself through the obsidian bowels of this haunted castle. The words of this 'Anastasia Charc' echoed even within these blackened tunnels, but if what he knew about the Iron Warriors was true, they would ultimately pay her words no attention -- To intrude upon their strongholds is to court death itself. Still, what would the Imperium want with the likes of this twisted world? Did the Inqusition have some hand in this? Ordo Malleus? Ordo Xenos, even? It was not lost on the Marine that he had been hurled into this waking hellscape through an Eldar webway gate.

But this was not the time to brood on such matters. The chainblade hungered for traitor blood; he hungered. Kragoth hurled himself through the tunnels, ignorant of the devious trappings that possibly awaited him. Strangely enough, they were desolate, save the unnerving cultist hymms that became audible as the Marine stomped. The ongoing massacre outside seemed to dissipate, as the Rainbow Warrior entered a room of worship. Seven flagellated cultists gathered to form a circle infront of a bloodied pentagram bearing within it's centre the undivided icon. Phantom ichor of red emerged from above the ceiling, trickling down onto the ruinous wheel. Standing guard over the ritual were four Iron Warrior Astartes; though each of them were armed with whispering bolters - embossed with clear, distorted maws - they did not raise the muzzles of these rifles toward their guest. Kragoth revved his chainblade regardless. Only the flowing of more blood would come of this.

"Welcome, loyalist. Your presence is indeed unexpected, but not unappreciated." The Vox grill hazed from an Iron Warrior. "Your handiwork by the entrance was quite a surprise; we have the Tau locked within a chokepoint. It will rain Xenos gore in due time."

"You are beset by two opposing forces, Iron Warrior." Replied a contemptuous Kragoth, keeping himself at a clear distance. Beside the ongoing ritual was a row of bladed, metallic pews. As cover, they were near useless. There had to be some use for them as a distraction. "This strongehold will be a smouldering ruin, you along with it." He hissed.

"'Tis merely a siege of attrition, loyalist. One neither force can even hope to win."
"Ten Astartes cannot last against ten thousand mortal men, Heretic."
"And what are ten thousand men in the terrible judgement of the Demon, Lapdog?"

As the Iron Warrior retorted, the seven cultists began to suddenly contort alarmingly, screaming in agonising esctacy as sanguinary lifeforce frothed from their orifices.

"Oh Khorne! Accept this gift!" One of the heretics gurgled. "Accept the blood shed upon this world! The toil of Man, Marine and alie-!"

Then the fool exploded, as did the rest of his decedant ilk. From the bloody giblets emerged seven fully formed Bloodletters, flaming claymores grasped in their claws; snarling and salivating for the flow more lifeblood. Kragoth found himself suddenly overcome with a deep rage, the Blood Star campaign remained heavy in his heart, even after passing centuries. Hidden within the rusted helmet lay a foul grimace and the gnashing of Astartes teeth.

The Iron Warrior chuckled as Kragoth revved his heavy weapon. "This is the price that the enemies of Chaos must pay, Astartes. The Tau, the Imperial scum. They both seek this stronghold, but only Hell itself awaits them. Even as we speak, Daemons manifest from the corpses that we have left in our wake. I'm sure you've already seen our handiwork by the webway?

"...Why am I not surprised..?" Wondered Kragoth aloud as all but one the Bloodletters dispersed within the obsidian tunnels. The traitor did not answer, however, merely joining the rageful Daemons within the shadowy bowels.

"Iron Warriors, move out! Let this loyalist test himself against Khornate steel."

The enemy rounds ricocheted of the shipping container Anastasia sheltered behind. She weighted her options. Her Valkyries could reduce the building to rubble but that would not improve her position .
They say fortune favors the bold and that the Emperor protects
She called her comsman over to her.
Switching the voxcaster to the battalion channel she said "All units on my signal charge the main building."
She rubbed the crudely made Aquilla that was pinned to her long coat. With a brief prayer to her beloved god-emperor she drew Warpbane and her laspistol.
"Praetorians on me." She ordered as she broke cover and charged the towards the building. "For the Emperor!"
All around her her troops joined her bursting from cover. The air was torn by lasbolts and battle cries.
"For the Emperor!"
"For Kronos!"
"For Anastasia!"
The cultist fell screaming realizing their heresy could not protect them from the Emperor's light. Then the screams changed in quality and amplitude. The cultists fire slackened then stopped.
From the second floor burst forth an octet of Bloodletters. The guardsmen faltered.
"Fix bayonets." Ordered Anastasia as she charged the closet demon.
The demon laughed as the mere mortal approached . It thought to play with her for a bit but Khrone did not care for the quality of blood spilled just the quantity. It charge forward seeking its first kill of the day. The Rogue Trader waited for the last moment before dropping to her knees. As she slid between the fiends legs she racked Warpbane across it's thigh. It felt pain unlike anything it had felt before. Its was tron apart and dragged into the blade. It realized the mortal was wielding a shard of oblivion. To late as her second blow severed it head and Warpbane feasted.

Kragoth revved his deafening blade toward the ruddy beast as the squadron of Iron Warriors made their way to the front line; fierce footfalls of descecrated metal pounded within the bowels until only the distorted snarl of the Bloodletter in front was audible. It's blade pulsated with an infernal glow of perpetual heat, and churning flames materialised from nothingness as the creature taunted it's prey. A terrible smile emerged from the row of angler teeth, complete with a slithering, barbed tongue that dripped with acidic saliva, eager for the taste of loyalist blood. Of course, the furious Marine would not allow his enemy that luxury, so long as the Blood Star Campaign remained fresh within his battered conscience...

...He would make the first move, roaring toward the Daemon. Their blades locked together, dazzling sparks temporarily brought light to the bloody chamber, providing half-second glimpses at the ruptured carcasses that once bore these Khornate Daemons into the waking world. The heavy chainblade grinded upon the flaming claymore, so volatile were the sanguinary embers that they began to coalesce into whirling flames around the room, catching themselves upon the sacreligious tapestries of the Dark Pantheon that hung upon the ceiling, before they too collapsed and blanked the chamber of a circle of unholy fire.

Outside, the Tau fared badly. Underestimating the Iron Warriors - uncontested masters of siege warfare in their own right - was but one sin the Xenos invaders would regret, but now the Shas'la that guarded the rear now found themselves flanked by a cadre of bloodthirsty monstrosities, wielding seemingly archaic blades that tore through advanced battlesuit hulls as though they had been fashioned from thin paper. Blue blood ran in rivers across the obsidian keep, which cascaded into the legion of mouths that hazed in agony within the fleshy soil. Yet still, the remaining Tau poured into the breach; their unwavering adherrence to the Greater Good denying them any notion of retreat. Will alone forced the Xenos through -- cerulean strobes of glowing plasma blasting the turrets into the smoldering metal. Both factions exchanged rounds within the darkened castle bowels.

This revelation held some surprise on the Bloodletter, sneering toward the Alien invaders. Such a lapse was great enough a distraction for the Astartes, and the chainblade whirled toward the creature's belly. "Mighty Emperor! Bless my strike onto this foe!" Yelled Kragoth, as the screaming weapon grinded colourfully upon Daemonic flesh. The beast roared in a mixture of fury and agony before slowly dissipating with the rest of the flames. "Back to the warp with you, Daemon." Hissed the marine as his foe crumbled into ash. His victory was short-lived, however -- the ongoing firefight became ever louder as more Iron Warriors mustered to defend the inner halls, as well as whatever forbidden treasures lay within.

Major Francis was itching for action. He had signed up for the 65th as soon as he had heard that it was getting assigned to a rogue trader; he never expected it to be Lord-Governor Charc's own daughter. Fortune and glory was what motivated him neither were worth anything thing if you did not live long enough to enjoy them. So as much as he would have loved to purge the Xenos he dared not. Anastasia saw the Requital as the Imperium in miniature with her as the Emperor. Failure to trust in her was akin to heresy and she made sure that was a capital offence. Francis's predecessor had committed the sin of disobeying an order and ruining one of the Lord-Captain's plans. She had listened to his explanation before executing in front of the battalion's officers. The body had barely fallen to the floor when she had turned to Francis and promoted him on the spot. It was whispered she had once executed a Commissar for dereliction of duty.
“Listern up; the Lord-captain want us to contain those Xenos” Said Major Francis jabbing his thumb towards the T'au. “ So I want Two lines one facing the city the other the planes!”
“You heard the man you Hrud Humpers!” Yelled his Sergeant-Major.
“Sir” Said a Lt. “You may want to see this.”
Francis brought his binoculars to his eyes and looked to where the Lt was pointing. A group of figures clad in power armour had emerged from a concealed entrance. They were making their way towards the T'au's exposed flank. Francis studied them their armour was silver edged in gold. They did not look like any of Astraties that he had met. Studying them he could see no Imperial insignia. That could mean only one thing they were followers of the arch heretic. Traitors and the lord-captain had very clear opinions on traitors.
“First platoon mount up, we're going hunting!”

Deep in the catacombs a figure walked muttering to himself.
“Time time; just need a little more time.”
Dust fell down on him.
“Seems that war has finally come here too. It probably was not friendly he had made sure that the Imperium would not come here and the Eldar had long ago given up on this place. If it was one of the younger races he might be able to manipulate them into helping him. He would just finish checking this passage before going to see how things were going.

Anastasia never could get used to how warpspawn dissolved into her blade. She scanned the area two more of the Bloodletters had been felled by the hail of las bolts as they closed the distance with the guardsmen. The final five tore in the the line of guardsman bisecting several. Anastasia made to rescue her men when three of her chimeras open fire tearing apart three more of the misbegotten things with round after round from their heavy bolters. The fiends let an unhallowed howl and charged the machines. Seeing her chance The rogue trader jumped and brought her blade down the back of the nearest Bloodletter allowing Warpbane to feast once more. The final Bloodletter looked around confused before being eviscerated by multi laser fire.

The Rainbow Warrior stood above the fleeting embers that once comprised a ferocious Daemon, his ears catching the eldritch hiss of corrupted bolter fire that pelted the courtyard. He did not relish in his victory, merely gritting his teeth once more in preparation for the next encounter. The Denizens of the Warp do not suffer a permanent death at the edge of a mortal blade; he would meet this Bloodletter again in due time...

...As he had perhaps done so during that fateful campaign, centuries earlier.

But the bitter memories of betrayal would have to wait, as ongoing roars of baritone voices echoed throughout the castle walls, as these insidious defenders demanded their Astartes kin to 'Hold the line.' These booming orders would be silenced, however, by whirl of plasma, or by the shelling of Imperial artillery. The asphalt rumbling held no sway over the Veteran Sergeant's psyche, delving once more into the shadowed intestines of this stronghold. Whatever interest the Tau, or even the Imperial traitors held in this waking Hell begun to hold some modicum of curiosity to the lone warrior. The further he scoured these unending catacombs, the more he came to notice the changing shade of architecture around him; the walls became less obsidian and more... bleached. Bleached like bone...

...Wraithbone, similar in make to the Eldar pylon that the Astartes had been delivered from. His heaving footfalls upon the cobbled stone became slow sauntering, like some stalking beast, as he heard a gibbering voice caught in the unnatural wind. The conflict above - save the earthen rumbling of Imperial payloads - was silenced.

Doros' next action was one of impulse: "Who goes there?" Yelled the Rainbow Warrior. "Are you Heretic or Alien? What do you know about this Daemonic stronghold?" His footsteps stopped, anxious for an answer among the echoes of the Rainbow Warrior's own shouting.

(Might I join?)

Grief Bradanksa wrote:
(Might I join?)
((Do you have a more 40k appropriate character?))

"Closer to human than you Astarties." Said a figure in a long black coat and wide brimed hat.
He held up his hand to reveal his Inquisitorial rosette.

Anastasia Looked round the room it appeared to have been Traffic control but it would do as a command center. Colonel Stal obviously agree and had set about making it so. Her Auxspex started beeping a pattren of beeps she had not heard in many years. She pulled it and glared at it.
"by the Throne, Colonel you're in chrage. Secure the city keep the T'au contained."
"Yes Ma'am."
"If they contact you set up a meeting and vox me. Praetorians on me."
"Aya, Captain." Said Hauptmann Narcot-Charc. "If I may ask where are we going?"
"To see and old friend and possibly shoot him."

Major Francis was first out of the Chimera and he ran to cover whilst firing at the foul traitors. The las shots ping off of the power armor. The Chaos Space Marines turned and open fire of the Guardsmen. The bolts torn a half dozen guardmen apart. In retaliation the multilasers and heavy bolters of the Chimeras liquefied two of the traitors. As the guard got into cover the added to the hail of las shots lighting up their enemies.
"Keep up the fire boys they're not immortal." Said Francis.

Anastasia Charc wrote:
Grief Bradanksa wrote:
(Might I join?)
((Do you have a more 40k appropriate character?))

I do, but I don't know how to add another character on here. I play Chaos really well, and onetime I was Rping as a Blood Ravens librarian.)

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Forums > Sci-Fi Roleplay Forum > (OPEN) Warhammer 40K: Gospel of Screams