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Blood Vow

Happiness is success... (Buddha)

Monday, January 13, 2020

The Scouring - Part 3 - Trek

"The third Legion was excised from the annals of Imperial history but right there stands the very image of their Primarch." said Plato as they lifted ammo belts and ranged weapons from the innards of their drop pod. He looked up at the square chin and wild eyes chiseled deep into the hard granite. Tantric tattooed runes were etched all over the facsimile of a bare face and a three pronged bolt of jagged lightning split the brooding eyes.

"It is whispered they were actually the very first to fall to the ruinous Powers. Our mission is to ensure he is truly dead. These lands crawl with filth... Khorne, Nurgle, Slaanesh and Tzneetch - their followers have flocked here in search as well."

The Champion had sheathed his swords and gripped the combi melta testing the rack as he chambered a fresh magazine. ‘We shall follow that ridge into the far valley. There lies the enemy camp. Be on guard for any of their outliers. Our insertion was perfect as planned. We must not fail now."

"Will there be any reinforcements?" asked one of the two Honor Guard as he hoisted up a heavy plasma rifle.

"Don’t count on it brother and the glory shall be ours alone should we succeed." Plato answered.

"You’ve always been the optimist." replied the Honor Guard.

Plato’s smile was hidden behind the golden grill of his helmet. "Let’s move out." The Champion set a boot upon the beginning of the rocky outcrop. The slope was quite steep. Raw jewels twinkled under the softening moonlight.

Sunday, December 29, 2019

The Scouring - Part 2 - Execution and Discovery

Sisyphus slashed at the trio of Ultramarines with his long sharp talons floating above them as his wings unfurled beating against the umber night sky. Twisting right then left Plato parried the deadly strikes with his blades catching the extended tips of the claws. "You should not have come here." hissed the Daemon Prince.

"It is but your destiny." The Champion speared the Word Bearer through its throat with the Mirror Blade. Black ichor poured from the sudden wound spilling upon the volcanic sand below. Sisyphus disengaged falling back from the fight. Its warp infused blood smoked as it scorched the earth below. Plato leapt up driving his other blade into the daemon’s torso and savagely twisted. The fractal edge severed internal organs and split the vertebrae.

Falling to the hard ground Sisyphus righted himself but it was too late. The enemy fell upon him hacking through the daemon armor. Pure hate flowed through their veins as they finished him. The trio stood back catching their breath. They felt something alien and ancient towering above them. In perfect unison they turned to see a gigantic statue of a Space Marine carved into the mountainside.

"The third Primarch." whispered Plato.

Saturday, December 14, 2019

The Scouring - Part 1

All along the Slaaneshi line the Noise Marines boisterously posed brandishing their deadly ranged weapons. Sisyphus, their exalted Daemon Prince, postured pointing up towards the red dawn. His wings unfurled as leapt into the crimson sky. "Fire upon my mark. We are the Bearers of the Truthful Word." They all saluted the unholy beast in their deeply saturated red armor.

A crescendo of sound split the sky as a lone blue drop pod crashed down imploding into the barren earth. Before they could react the doors exploded outwards showering molten shrapnel upon the filth. Stepping down from the forward most ramp descended a Champion with a Victrix Honour Guardian on either side. He stood taller than Primaris drawing a pair of long paired blades. Upon his chest hexagrammic wards deeply etched into the hardened armor blazed in the forgotten language of Colchis screamed in their minds as they all looked upon the glyph "Kneel".

Sisyphus snarled drawing his long forked tongue over the fangs jutting from his twisted malformed mouth. Charging into the masses blaster fire the trio of Ultramarines crashed into the Word Bearers. The Champion struck right and left striking them down, limbs were sundered and foul visceral split from the rent crimson plates. Sensors built into his armor guided each stroke.

Swooping down into the trio the Prince tore at the Victrix with its steely talons. Their shields held repelling the Fallen’s attack as the Chapter Champion continued his rampant killing. Time seemed to stop as the last of the Word Bearers fell, cleaved apart in the clinical rampage. Turning to face Sisyphus Plato pointed his bloodied swords toward the Daemon Prince taunting him. "Kneel".

Tuesday, November 19, 2019

M’Shen - Part 8 - Conclusion

M’Shen - Part 8 - Conclusion

Slowly M’Shen began to ripple in form not fighting his tight grip. The Night Haunter blinked once to see Talos caught in his steely grasp. "My Lord the assassin disemboweled me." he said as he coughed up blood. "It was a slow and painful death. She cut me apart one piece at a time. Where were you? I cried out your name then she cut out my tongue." His eyes were blood shot orbs sunken inside the hollow sockets. The Night Haunter looked down upon the broken Chaos Marine. "End my pain, end it now. Please I beg you." The dark blue armor was cracked open in many places revealing broken bone and torn entrails split from the wounds. His bare hand slipped into his Primarch’s squeezing with the last of his strength.

"My son it pains me to see you so. It was I whom should have died not you." He gripped Talos’ hand tightly in return.

"Beware she has a Druchii artifact that shields her." Talos’ torn body spasmed as he convulsed. Black tears of blood dripped down from his eyes. His teeth were broken, some missing ... "She said we are like a fish in a bowl of water and can’t see beyond it." Slowly Talos began to ripple in form before the Night Haunter then he saw her again. "Truly you are mad." she said as her hand slipped free from his loose grip. "The Emperor tried to love you, he did but you have not even one redeeming value." The Sword struck straight and true punching through the bottom of his jaw shredding the Night Haunter’s brain. His eyes rolled back. Next M’Shen slipped a steel garrote around his neck and pulled hard severing the head from the shoulders.

Grasping the head by the hair she held it up high. There was no one to witness her victory but herself.