Monday, September 10, 2018
Assassin - Nęœ Tèrræ - Part 50
League upon league of drop pods rained down from the pitch blackness above. The first waves were unmanned carrying explosive death to the immortal rain of daemons massing upon the barren ground. They all exploded in perfect synchronicity upon ground contact clearing the breach. Wave upon wave of fresh daemons immediately charged forward to fill the gap. Three more waves of drop pods split down raining more death whole sale. Orpheus stepped out from the last pod with his Honor Guard of Templar Brethren and a hulk clad in umber yellow carrying a titan hammer clutched tightly across his chest. More Templars disembarked from a cluster of nearby pods bristling with bolters. "Converge." came the single command from Orpheus then their guns erupted. Daemon flesh was shredded asunder as the last of the loyalist Legion stepped upon the grave earth of Nęō Têrrá to reclaim their lost prize. "We must take the ancient throne room."
Their highly polished black armor shone under the lunar moon filling the pitch black sky with an umber sheen. Overhead a godlike being clad in golden armor soared above the filthy corrupted masses. Sanguinius drew forth a long Spear and chucked it into the very heart of the cancerous lot. A massive explosion erupted emulating thousands upon thousands of daemons instantly. Immediately the Templars spilled into the open ground entering the outer layers of the palace. "Let there be light." commanded the Primarch. Bolters poured into the daemonic rank as they continued to advance pushing back the evil.
Something huge and dark swooped down from the clouds aiming directly at the Primarch. It had long bat like wings and was swollen with grotesque muscle. Carrying an immense axe drenched in blood the greater daemon smiled revealing row upon row of sharp pointed filed fangs. Sanguinius drew another Spear from his back and spun in place suddenly face to face with his ancient foe. The beast crashed into the Spear tip screaming in pain. Sanguinius gripped the leather bound haft tight as a steel vice rotating the head as it punctured through its crooked spine. Silver energy spilled from the shaft incinerating the daemon spawn. A cloud of black ash rained down upon the daemon masses as they looked up to see its sudden demise. The Primarch smiled.
The death of the vile Bloodthirster brought forth great cheers amongst the Templar ranks. McGregor held the Titan Hammer over his head in exclamation for all to see just as the first light of a new dawn split down from the red skies above. A great dreadknight clad in pitch black armor strode forth from a hidden cave to join his brethren. The single name ‘Ionus’ was etched in acid across his front armor plate. "Today is a good day to be a Templar." its voice boomed over the vox.
"My brother, every day is a good day to be a Templar." Orpheus kneeled before the dreadknight.