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post #11 of (permalink) Old 09-26-15, 07:44 AM Thread Starter
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I apologize for being so late with this. I've been busy with college and being in a writing rut lately, so I haven't been in the mood to write anything but homework . Anyways, I'm a bit rusty, so I guess I have to start working some of that off. This update is a start .

Chapter Two

Aenaria soared above the Gates of Sorrow on ebon wings, an angelic witness to the endless carnage that the Blood God had brought before the Forlorn City. She elegantly weaved through the embattled masses that fought for the realm above the chaos. Massive beasts created from blood, brass, and honor hurtled themselves through the skies and onto the battlements. Their massive demon forged axes split fragile angelic kin in twain or crushed them into paste beneath their hooves. Around them, a horde of lesser furies swarmed the Guardian Host and tore into them with tooth and claw.

Aenaria hefted her hoplon shield and smashed another winged creature from her path. The enchanted, double-edged spear in her grip flashed from her person and struck through several of the furies’ bones as it fell. Blood sprayed from the wound as she tore her spear free in time to twirl around a Bloodthirster’s hacking blow as it swept down upon her. She could not avoid the Greater Demon’s bulk, however, and felt the thing’s iron plated knee sink into her chest as it made to crush her into the Gates of Sorrow.

A combination of raven hair and snow-white wings suddenly assaulted the Greater Demon during its descent. The beast’s twin axes whirled around its sinewy wings and bright arcs of blood fell across the blood mist in the air. Aenaria could only glimpse slivers of quicksilver shining in her eyes and the screams of the ferocious creature attempting to slay her. One moment, she was flung toward the earth as if a meteor. In the next, pieces of red-skinned gore rained down upon her and splattered her with black blood.

A momentous force slammed into Aenaria’s left flank and pulled her back into the skies. Nessana held her in one arm, the other holding a great infernal blade that pulsed with emerald light. The dark-skinned angel smiled down upon Aenaria before she released her hold and sliced through a throng of furies on route to intercept her. Determined to follow, Aenaria beat her wings furiously and entered back into the fray.

Nessana thundered from scant feet above her. “Our forces are doing well! Khorne’s talons cannot find purchase on the battlements!”

“Our fortunes are good in the air, at least.” Aenaria retorted. “I dare not look upon the battle on the ground. I pray that I sound less cowardly when I slay another of Khorne’s champions!”

“A mortal interest!” Nessana laughed. Her sword beheaded two furies in one sweep. “For you, at least. Your last attempt did not seem so successful!”

Despite herself, Aenaria snorted with brazen laughter as she threw her demonic spear through the skies. The double bladed weapon plunged through the back of another Bloodthirster that wore no armor. With a simple pull of her mind, the weapon unhinged itself from Khornate flesh and flew back into the hand of its owner. She twirled in the same moment and slammed her shield into the teeth of another frenzied winged creature.

Her laughter went silent as a shrill, keening wail echoed across the entirety of the battlefield.

A gathering of a hundred angels began to swarm beneath the pair of Guardians. Nessana descended through the battle to join them. “The Horn of the Demoness. She calls for reinforcements on the ground.”

Aenaria nose-dived into the circling formation of Guardians, formed in an impenetrable wall of shields and swords that battered away all the manifestations of malice that attempted to break it apart. Others valiantly risked one of their endless lives to ensure that no Bloodthirster could break through the aerial Cantabrian circle. The Demoness’ Horn sounded another time and the impregnable mass of immortal flesh moved toward its source.

The ground battle was worse than even Aenaria had anticipated. On the flanks, the mortal ranks of the Forlorn City managed a decent fight against minions of Khorne. Their numbers were many and their valiance was unquestionable, but it was in the center of the battle that their courage counted for nothing. Amidst countless dead, her Demoness fought alone against the relentless tides of Khorne. The enemy had deployed a great number of their champions, war beasts, and shock cavalry in order to break through the center ranks of the Forlorn City. They had been so successful that Nyst’s legions had been overwhelmed and routed prematurely in mass.

Nyst required her Guardians to shore up the breach in her lines while her rank-and-file reorganized.

The Guardians descended upon the battlefield in practiced discipline and great numbers. In perfect ranks, they locked shields over mounds of their own dead and advanced their phalanx into the teeth of the enemy. Others simply descended atop their foes and cleaved a bloody path through the throngs of Khornate Heralds and Chariots. Aenaria caught a quick glimpse of Nessana landing behind the enemy lines before she landed at the fore of the Guardian phalanx.

The Chosen of the Demoness’ shield came up in sync with a hundred others to blunt a collision charge of Bloodletters mounted atop iron-and-brass clad steeds. A hundred spears thrust forward in the blink of an eye. Khornate riders became speared and thrown from their mounts with precise strikes. A dozen of the brass beasts fell beneath the thrust of a dozen spears for each. Others crashed through the phalanx, crumpled shields, armor, and flesh beneath their hooves as they gored others and wreaked havoc.

One courageous Herald of Khorne leapt from his Juggernaut and landed with his full weight upon Aenaria’s shield. Upon seeing their commander’s fearless act of bloodlust, Bloodletters on foot sounded their war horns and crashed into the ranks of the angelic Guardians.

“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
-Glen Cook, The Black Company

Tales of Heroism and Bravery, in the 41st Millennium and the Old World. Perhaps some Realm Gate Wars in the future .

Gods' Hall (Completed)

The New Word (Completed)
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