Zsavo gazed down upon the members of Seventh Claw, completely oblivious to their 'enemies' above them. It made the former Night Raptor Sergeant sigh inwardly; they were fellow Night Lords, they ought to know well the tactics the Sons of Curze that their brothers employ. More opportunity to teach a lesson, he thought; their enemies would show no quarter, the other members of the VIII Legion would do the 'same'. Glancing around at the men under his command, Zsavo could see that they had their ranged weapons sheathed; the better not to make any noise to help their ambush come to fruition. Grasping his thin-bladed sword, the Nostraman turned his attention towards Brother Sylath; from his gauntlets crept forth the lightning claws that he had used to cleave his enemies in twain many times before. The others followed suit, drawing their own weapons in anticipation of the melee to come as they drew closer towards the ambush point; not too far off from where the Seventh Claw would reinforce their allies. When they finally reached their desired destination, the former Night Raptor raised his free hand slightly, maintaining a subtle gesture. With a flex of his fingers, his detachment then proceeded to deactivate the magnets on their boots; gravity in that moment become their weapon of terror as they descended upon their prey with flayed skin cloaks flapping with their fall.
Blood dice held high, Zsavo watched as the members of Seventh Claw reacted too late to the ambush he had sprung. His own particular target was one of the warriors wielding a heavy bolter; prompting his leg forward, he crashed into this individual, ploughing him to ground as the clash of blades began. Looping his blade around, the Night Lord brought it down into a 'decapitating' strike which simply scratched the tuning of his kinsman's neck. His body went limp as his power armour shut down. Hearing the clatter of another boot behind him, Zsavo swung Blood dice around to strike another Seventh Claw Night Lord in the side. Before he could fall, the once-Night Raptor caught his recent kill, the better to make less noise. This held no rush for him; the gush of blood, the last gaze of a dying victim, these 'kills' held none of those for him. Still, the former Sergeant supposed it would be useful to keep their skills honed, he could take some satisfaction in that. As he looked up, he could see that his men had landed their mark without any being landed on them; looking at the 'corpses' of the slain, Zsavo knew what he what he had to do next to maintain their cover; gesturing towards a nearby vent, he gave his orders as he whispered into their vox beads.
"Hide the bodies in the shafts, be swift and silent, and more kills shall be ours."
When the sky falls down, The Dead sleep no more.
Can you survive as your world slowly tears itself apart?
"When life gives you lemons...BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD"