The Revenant arrived and just as quickly as the 1st claw descended into the carrion to strike and decimate their former brothers did the now bloodied group leave the field. The Destroyer charred by his own instruments and covered in a thin slime composed of liquefied guardsman and chemicals giving him a sickly hue and an even more sickening stench would make an unaccustomed soul retch and vomit. There was an eerie calm now as the engines whined pulling the metallic beast back into the vacuum. The cacophony of rebellion being replaced with silence and what little grunts came from the group and most notably where the company's champion laid in pieces and his own mechanical respiratory system sounding like a deep sea diver. Unfortunately the Destroyer couldn't make out the stench of Pelegon's heart through his own heavily corroded nasal passage and the suits overtaxed filters. Serhiy thought in silence about what would be the next step for Azrael; would he end up in a dreadnought or simply be torn to pieces under the tender 'care' of Veptus and his vultures.
The Destroyer ruminated about where this would take the Legion and hadn't noticed the bird landing. The Maiden seemed welcoming to the 'triumphant heroes' and there seemed to be a slightly greater sense of fulfillment in the hull of the ship and Serhiy wasn't sure if it was just himself. He'd felt tarnished and stiff itching for the feel of true combat and that battle was more perfect than he could have ever hoped for. True Night Lord tactics striking with superior numbers against a surprised opponent and annihilating them; better yet they had annihilated space marines, the Emperor's finest!
Within the solitude of his helmet the Destroyer marine was grinning sickly.
The door to the Revenant descended and Xandrek stood an incredibly imposing figure with white limbs accenting the midnight blue of his armor made all the more imposing by his eyes that pierced as blackly as the void. "Veptus, Xheng, Pelegon, Azrael get yourselves to the Apocatherion and get yourselves patch up. Veptus you are to make sure Azrael is ready for bionic replacements of the limbs he has lost, but see to Pelegon first."
What was the significance of Pelegon? The Destroyer struggled to listen and picked out strained breathing; through the disgust Serhiy was able to pick up the faint metallic scent of blood. Was it one of his hearts? It mattered little. After the dismissal the Destroyer marine lingered a little studying the newcomer, a Kesh that made the 1st claw member uneasy. First they received an Iron Warrior, one of Perturabo's own. They weren't known for underhanded tactics but that coupled with the receiving of a fresh Night Lord from the planet's surface made it worse.
His knee could wait for now and the gaunt marine slowly crept towards the new marine bearing a shield and chainfist with the same posture as tiger stalking its prey waiting for an opportunity to strike. The flamer hung loosely in his grasp and he made sure to stay at just enough distance to retreat if the marine swung at him.
"A new blood. . . joining our esteemed company. . ."
--"Veres...Serhiy...a noted Destroyer. I am glad it is you. Your armour says that you serve with distinction; encountering the fire, yet ultimately surviving. Stoicism and endurance are traits I prize highly. I am grateful for our Lord's chance for me to learn alongside you."
The new blood took the time to remove his helmet in supplication. Either naïve or defiant it was an interesting move to unseal his armor and expose himself to the tools that the Destroyer used. He noted the pandering with flat silence. The tone the new blood spoke with was clearly aristocratic and mildly pompous or perhaps he was just so used to gutter speak. Serhiy took the time to unseal his helmet as well revealing a twisted sunken face covered in sickly burnt flesh and glassy yellowed eyes. He smiled only for a moment revealing corroded rotting teeth, all signs of the tools of his trade, before returning the helmet to its place.
The clicking and grinding respiratory system forced pauses as the Destroyer circled the newer marine seeking to put the newcomer between him and Tyberus. In the same manner as he was picked at by his now brothers when he first joined the company the hazing process that pervaded every aspect of the legion was no different here. Even more so for an untempered soul that came out of nowhere seeking a vaunted position among the Lord of Lies murder of crows.
"We've all earned our place here. . . What makes you deserving. . . of such a position? Tal-Zhen was a damned fool. . . His charred remains stand testament to that." The Destroyer put particular emphasis on the remark about charred remains hoping the hint was more than obvious with the chem-flamer resting in his gauntlet. He used his gangly height against the shorter Kesh and lurched above him. "Where did you serve. . . new blood?. . . What gang did you serve in?"
--"I served in the 19th Company under Captain Haresh Clay. Although I once saved one of his lieutenants, he barely knew my name, so he will not miss my absence. My given name is Kesh Trevas, but I have also since taken on the middle name of my former Sergeant, thus I am 'Keshyael' now.
"You won't find my name upon any gang roster, apart from in a list of their targets: my family was from luxury and privilege, not the streets. We once owned wineries and stables, soon all laid waste by criminals I was inducted alongside."
The newcomer shuddered, possibly in response to his visage, possibly in response to his profession but either way Serhiy had dominated the man if only for a moment.
--"Ah, I see you not only survive blazes, but now use them upon the foe...an effective tactic. Perhaps I might destroy shelters the enemy hides behind whilst you burn them out?"
--"I accept that I need to prove myself and that you will be watchful until I do. I am here by virtue of providence and our master's decision to accept me...I have survived this far in life by learning not to question either of these two things."
The bastard ended the sentence with a smile far too uncharacteristic of the shadow stalkers that put a degree of unease in the Destroyer's disposition. Once again either his defiance or his naivety was evident. . . Time would tell which was the case.
"Yes I will be watchful. . . It's never the murderer you worry about. . . They're intention is known. . . Worry for the smiling face. . that conceals a blades tip. . . As for you New Blood. . . Welcome to the First Claw. . . I wish you a healthy stay. . *aheh-heh-heh-heh*"
The disjointed laugh struggling against the respiratory system as the marine slowly backed away before turning around and moving down the hall towards the armoury.
If you need to get a hold of me my Skype is zhnthebox
Last edited by Boxagonapus; 04-05-15 at 03:57 AM.