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post #172 of (permalink) Old 04-10-15, 07:25 PM
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Tyberus watched silently, a grin crossing his lips beneath his helm as he watched the Destroyer take up the role of intimidating and harrying the newly annointed member of First Claw. His name was Kesh, or Ketz, something along those lines. Serhiy circled about the newcomer, speaking in thinly veiled threats, it made Tyberus laugh, his low rumble emerging from the vox.

"Destroyer, for this new blood to heed your threat, he would need to be able to understand your jib and threat through your garbled vox," he spoke mockingly of the Destroyers ruined vocal chords, supplanted by a vox. He then turned to the newcomer, "Do not be confused by Serhiy's circuitous manner of speaking, he, or I, or any of First Claw will maim and kill you at first sight of weakness or hesitation to follow the command of Captain Xandrek."

Tyberus voiced words he did not wholly believe in himself. He knew Xandrek was a Captain truly worthy of the title, but he found his chosen company to be lacking, Veptus, the vile worm had slithered his way many years before into the ear of the Captain, Azrael, the former Champion now stood, or rather lay in recover upon slabsteel awaiting his sentence for so blatantly disavowing his oaths and allowing a Champion of the Raven Guard to escape their duel alive. Tyberus quietly resolved to become the new Champion of First Claw, his skills in close combat were near unrivaled, and his birth on Nocturne gave hold to the prospect that he could be named Champion in light of Azrael's recent failings of both mind and now his state of body.

Tyberus opened a squad wide vox including to Captain Xandrek, expecting no reply from the Captain was only rarely prone to speaking to those not in his inner circle, even among his chosen Claw. "I go to rearm myself and prepare for immediate redeployment if those are to be our orders." , His intent was clear enough, to show that he was preparing to go to war at a moment's notice at his Captain's word. With that he marched heavily towards the armory. His plate was covered in gore and his weapons were slick with oil and blood. His storm bolter would need proper inspection and litanies of maintenance, the dust and grime of the planet having bored their way into the moving parts of the slide and feed mechanisms. Since their time aboard NightFall, the witness of the relic chainblade had been etched in his mind, the keen edged teeth shimmered in his mind's eye as he thought about the glories this war would bring to him.

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