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post #91 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-04-11, 09:57 AM
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Lacessera was down, the Necron looming over her. Suddenly overcome by a sense of lust, Lacessera leapt onto the Flayed One. The feeling of flesh rubbing tight against her skin only heightened Lacessera's pleasure, and she brought the Necron to the ground, and began thrusting madly. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the body of the Necron, moving up and down its back repeatedly, whilst she pressed her waist firmly against that of the Necron. Her legs also intertwined themselves around the Necron, and Lacessera was completely attached to the Necron.

Unknowingly, Lacessera had also made herself immune to attack. The Necron, apart from being unable to see through Lacessera's kissing face and breasts, could not reach backwards with its talons; and could not slash at Lacessera's soft flesh. So, in an attempt to shake her off, it began moving violently forwards and back. Lacessera, however, took this as a sign of amoral lust, and began thrusting even faster, in time wit the Necron. This made the Necron in turn shake faster, to throw Lacessera off.

To passing battle-Sisters, what they saw scarred them forever. A daemonette and a Necron, plastered to each other, thrusting madly, grunting and moaning, in total ecstasy. Lacessera unleashed her Breath of Chaos, covering the Necron in melting fumes, whilst furthering her own passion. Suddenly, Lacessera heard an ear-splitting scream, and answered it with her own, groaning, sexual cry. The Necron suddenly gained a panicked look in its eyes, as Lacessera moved faster and faster, pushing her waist into the Necron stronger and stronger. She cried more and more, thrusting and groaning faster and faster....

Suddenly, the Necron phased out. It was an experience like Lacessera had never felt before, unlimited energy passing straight through her, brushing down her breasts and straight through her groin. The green energy soon dissipated, leaving Lacessera in a cloud of musky pink scent. She writhed on the floor, before finding the corpse of a Sister, and pleasuring herself upon that instead. Still, it was as nothing compared to the sexual excess she had experienced with the Necron, so she vowed to hunt it down, and complete what she had started.

Lacessera was oblivious to what was happening, and simply continued to lie amongst the corpses, completely naked, moaning with delight, exuding an intoxicating gas, and feeling her own body in infinite orgasmic pleasure.

Give a man a match, and he's warm for a day.

Set a man on fire, and he's warm for the rest of his life!

Cato Marquand

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post #92 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-04-11, 04:07 PM
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The necron strode forward once more, Warscythe spinning in its skeletal hands. Gong'Alt roared as his Hellblade ignited, and he charged at the foe, swinging low at the legs. The enemy performed an elegant backflip and rose his weapon towards the daemon. Gong'Alt screamed again and charged, Hellblade swinging wide. The necron ducked the slash and rose up with its Warscythe, nearly carving Gong'Alt in half, had he not leapt back. The Lord now stood still for a moment, which had allowed Gong'Alt to lunge back and deliver a fatal blow. The warrior-lord dodged the blow, but its arm slid off from the body, and the Warscythe fell with it.

The enemy showed no sign of pain, and launched itself forward, grabbing Gong'Alt by the neck. For a moment, he felt helpless, but that quickly came to pass when he pressed his foot against the necrons metal face and pushed, sending the enemy tumbling. Screaming with savage ferocity, he charged foward, ready to cleave the head clean off the torso. But he halted. Why? It rose to its knees, head held high, ready to receive its fate. He stopped and looked at the lord, as it rose its head to him. Its remaining hand clutched its Warscythe and brought it up to its neck. This is not life. This is living-death. With a quick motion, it severed the head from the body and collapsed to the floor, before slowly fading away.


If someone lacks intelligence, than he is not stupid, because one cannot be stupid without intelligence.

If someone reverts to having to complain about your grammar, then you already won.

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post #93 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-06-11, 12:21 PM
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Carnage could not even begin to describe the events that unfolded on this unknown battlefield, Sisters, Daemons, Furies and Necrons clashed amongst the blackened sands and under the darkness of the sky. This single battle could prove to the determining factor of whether an entire world lives, or dies. Vetis was only but a simple spawn but he been thrown like a pawn into Anon’s games, the foul warp creature had now played his hand and stolen from the gods what he promised. But Vetis still had a say, he would end this now with Wrydcaller and the other daemons, if Anon really thought that they would just sit down and succumbed to his treachery then he is a bigger fool then Vetis had first thought.

His power was immense; the tetragon fueling his every move with the warp energies of Tzeentch. Vetis was angry, angry at the furies for their insolence, angry at Anon for playing him and most of all angry at himself for letting himself become a part of the creatures foul games. Yet despite it all Vetis swallowed his pride and beat down his rage, he had lost the battle but the war was not over.

The tetragon was his only hope, without it they will all be enviably destroyed in the clash he would have to ensure its survival, and then when the dust has finally settled he will have confront Anon and make him pay for meddling in the affairs of the master.

Lighting arched from his fingertips and his Necron assailants were heated into nothing but pools of molten slag at his feet. A dozen nearby furies drawn to the light of his attacks swooped down from the skies, forcing Vetis to leap aside and take refuge in a rocky crevice. The putrid creatures were rapidly becoming more and more troublesome as the number of combatants on the ground that they could attack was quickly diminishing. Even now they persisted in molesting the greater daemons, the thought of such lowly beings bringing low one of the gods finest was sickening. Yet they had managed to draw close enough to take blood from the four, who in their vulnerable state could not effectively hold off the tide of winged vermin that invaded their space.
Vetis would have to come to their aid, but he was only a single daemon and the futile remains of his cohort had been destroyed in the ensuing battle. He would have to it one by one, scowling under his breath he knew that time was not on his side. Wrydcaller was the most obvious choice, he was after all the only daemon here that was truly worth anything, besides himself of course. With that he decided that he would have to debate around the rest later, there was no guarantee that he would even get out of saving Wrydcaller alive.

Clambering up the rocks he looked out on the battlefield, it was a high vantage point and from here he could make out the forms of all four of the greater Daemons, fate and the gods had truly smiled upon him today, it would not take long to reach one but those few precise moments in-between may prove fatal for one of the four, but it was best to not look a gift horse in the mouth, as the humans would say.

Wrydcaller was still the first and Vetis worked franticly to force his way through swarm after swarm of furies as he scuttled over the rocks to his fellow servant. Vetis was able to make quick work of the furies that assailed Wyrdcaller and his lighting erupted into the skies. Seeing the fate of their brethren many of the furies that had intended to attack Wyrdcaller panicked at the lighting now clipping their wings and quickly turned to flee with their tales in-between their legs.

Wrydcaller would be safe for now, Vetis didn’t bother to try and talk to him and instead immediately made off in the direction of the other four daemons. Not quite decided on who would save next, but not in the mood to wait around and find out.

Next he found the Khorne daemon, enraged but still fighting. It occurred to Vetis that the daemon would not appreciate his help, but then again nor did he partially enjoy giving it. Turning the furies that bore down of the Khorne daemon into charred and brittle bodies he decided it best to leave before the greater daemon directs its anger upon him for taking its potential slaughter.
The next choice was simple Nurgle was an insult to Vetis’s very existence and would have to be helped last, even now his hatred for the god of decay burned nearly as bright as his anger against Anon. The Slaanesh daemon, who he knew as the keeper of secrets was in no better condition than the Khorne daemon and he shifted the tide of battle as he had done for the other daemons with his cracking energies.

Nurgle was last, the horribly boated form the gods representation was so ugly it forced Vetis to look way as he sent his lighting downwards to destroy the furies.

With all of the Daemons now fully focused on the tetragon, Vetis could turn his attentions to the furies above, the servants of Anon. They would have to suffice for now, he could only hope that Anon will show himself, so that he might destroy him in person.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Unforgiven302 View Post
It's called a meltagun because "microwave over gun" is retarded

Things a Guardsman would say
" Why do the Orks have one of our Basilisks?"
" Quick get that spotlight over here if our lasguns can kill then that mean's it must be a template weapon!"
" Lighter, X ray, tanning machine dang weres the kill setting on this lasgun?"

Last edited by Samu3; 01-06-11 at 12:25 PM.
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post #94 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-06-11, 02:51 PM
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Tha'Aktos was in a ruthless battle with the fury Nikar. Nikar was very agile, using its wings to dart in and away from Tha'Aktos' attacks, darting away from his blows before he could finish the foe. It's hideous features glared at him, threatening him menacingly as he descended again to attack the khorne daemon.

Darting under the swing of Tha'Aktos, Nikar kicked him in the back of his knee, sending him down to the floor. Before Nikar could capitalise, Tha'Aktos spun round with his second blade, scoring a mark across its foul chest.

"DIE! REJECT!" Tha'Aktos screamed at it in a blood curdling shout of hate, how dare this thing defy Khornes will? He lunged at it, the flurry of attacks too quick to allow Nikar to fly away. He could not score a critical hit the thing, but his blades managed to slice a few parts of skin; nothing serious.

Nikar managed to parry an attack and swept out Tha'Aktos' feet, sending him down hard in to the floor and one of his hellblades fell away from his grasp. Nikar was suddenly upon him, pummeling its fists into Tha'Aktos' face. He felt parts of his face cave under the pressure. Using his well-earned gifts from Khorne, he used all his might to reverse Nikar's hold of him, grabbing the fury by its throat. He held the thing down with his spare arm and legs, the fury could not overcome Tha'Aktos' sudden burst of strength.

Bringing his remaining hellblade to bare, he slowly pushed the blade between the tissue connecting its wings to its back. His tongue flicked out in pleasure at the furies screams, as eventually the warp-power flowing through the weapon cut straight through the flesh in a spurt of blood. He punched the thing in its face, before kicking it across the floor.

Nikar's glare had turned from fury into a mixture of pain and fear. Tha'Aktos stared over him, suddenly slicing straight through Nikar's legs. He revelled in the pain and the fear emanating from the creature.

"Foolish weakling. You think you could defeat one such as I? Now you pay for such a mistake." With a gutteral roar, he rammed his blade through the things head, covering himself in viscera and gore. It twitched temporarily, before ceasing. Satisfied with the good fight, he walked over to his other blade, before rubbing hsi slain foes blood all over his body in victory.
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post #95 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-06-11, 04:47 PM
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Korthoseducked a swipe from the wraith, he loosed a bolt of tzeentchat the wraith who narrowly avoided the attack. The horror gritted his teeth as a gauss shot flew passed his head, he looked at the ground and saw a dead sister still holding a chainsword. Korthose snatched it up and parried a swipe from the wraith, it's claw burned through the sword but it was of no matter. As the necron recoiled Korthose loosed a bolt of tzeentch that flew through the necrons chest and sliced some very important wires and sockets. The gauss fire withered and died on the necrons claws. Korthose let himself show a brief smile before grabbing a furie mid flight, it struggled but did not stop.

Korthose landed on the ground with a loud thump. He was a good distance away from the wraith who was slithering his way, Korthise began his barrage. The majority of shots just glanced off the armour but some got into important bits and began melting down the material of it's body. A sister wielding a chainsword leapt at him, the blade was so badly aimed that it did no damage but the sister fell on top of him knocking him over, she wailed with agony as she fell onto her own chainsword, it sliced through her chest and splattered her guts on the horror and the ground. Korthose grunted as he heaved the sisters corpse off him. He was met by a backhand of claws.

He was once again on the ground, the wraith struck where his head had been only seconds ago, "WHY DON'T YOU JUST DIE?" moaned Korthose. He shot another bolt of tzeentch that took the top left part of his head off, it still seemed functional but some memories would be damaged. The wraith stabbed Korthose in the arm, he screamed in agony. His other arm reached up and scrambled some circuits in it's body. The necron suddenly looked up, a metallic screech echoed around the battlefield, the necrons began to phase out, the wraith turned to finish his victim, before he got a chance Korthose shot another hole through it's chest, it dissapeared.

(OOC: I haven't killed him farseer, just severly injured)

Korthise stood, he clutched his bleeding arm and limped towards the greater daemons, that Anon was going to pay for his treachery.



current win rates;
csm 3/1/1
daemons 1/0/0
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post #96 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-11-11, 02:55 AM Thread Starter
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ooc: WarpSpawned & GODSMACKED, cover your previous update in this one.

--- --- ---

Anon laughed at the sarcophagus bearing the trapped necron lord. It`s scream had resounded through the entire complex and undoubtedly had echoed above ground as well. Without Lakhi, Anon would be forced to...

No... He could feel it now. Lakhi`s power, her little piece of warp energy had empowered him. If he could just... almost...

YES! With a sickening sound like bones reshaping, leathery gargoylesque wings like those of a fury sprouted from his back... Excellent, no longer would Anon be reliant on one of his furies for transport. Spreading his new wings, he flapped.

Once...

Twice...

With a leap he leaped into the air, following the great rent in the ground upwards and returning to the battlefield he had left only a short while ago. He surveyed the scene with mixed interest from his newly acquired vantage point. The necrons had gone, and there were far fewer furies than when he had left. It seemed his daemonic allies were more capable than he thought.

'FURIES, WITHDRAW!' Anon bellowed.

As the furies scattered and fled from the empowered servants of the gods below, Anon looked down as the daemons looked up one by one.

'Enough games!' Bonecrusher bellowed. 'Let`s end this fool`s errand now!'

The tetragon powered down with the need to protect the daemons from the necrons now past. Wyrdcaller and Bonecrusher still stood strong, but Caressela was a little worse for wear and Poxgiver had been close to death...

'Do it, Bonecrusher!' Wyrdcaller encouraged. 'Free me from servitude to him!'

Anon laughed.

'Hehehe...' He lowered himself to the ground as Bonecrusher advanced. 'Did you ever wonder why I called on you four specifically? Why it was you and not some other servant of Khorne? Another Lord of Change, Unclean one or Secret Keeper?'

Bonecrusher froze. It was not fear, but rather a paralyzing hatred. He knew what was coming.

A pouting look of despair came across Caressela`s normally petite face. They all knew. It had seemed strange, that Anon would so blatantly doublecross them all and expect to just walk away. It should have been obvious the moment he uttered Wyrdcaller`s true name back in the convene...

He knew them all by name... By True Name...

'Ytlayorforeyals!' Anon called. Bonecrusher fell to his knees in supplication, bellowing in fury all the while.

'Eramthginforevaew!' He called again, and Wyrdcaller similarly bowed against his will.

'Kradnirotcefni!' Poxgiver lowered himself to his hands and knees.

'Emerpusrecudes!' Anon laughed, and Caressela found herself shrinking to her knees...

'This isn`t fun anymore!' Caressela cried. 'I want to keep killing stuff!'

Anon took to the skies again, rising slowly and glaring down at them in contempt.

'Well, my four friends.' Anon addressed the Greater Daemons. 'It was fun, but I`m afraid you and your minions have outlived your purpose. Destroy them, then destroy yourselves!'

Without even a second glance, Anon turned and flew towards the skyline, barely a dozen surviving furies in tow...

--- --- ---

Gong`Alt and Tha`Aktos: Poweless to disobey, Bonecrusher turns and advances towards you. Your gifts will be pushed to their limits as you fight for your very existence against your superior! You will both survive as Bonecrusher is forced to divide his attention between you. You will not attack each other. If you have any cohort surviving, they will perish in this fight. Bonecrusher is only slightly diminished in strength due to Vetis` decisions, so your fight will be a tough one...

Vetis and Korthose: Wyrdcaller is furious at being forced to serve a lesser, but does not seem to care for your wellbeing. His attacks rain down relentlessly, your cohort is destroyed almost instantly and you are forced to rely on every nuance of skill just to survive. Wyrdcaller does not present any weaknesses. For the moment, you cannot fight back, your cohorts are picked off and killed one by one and all you can do is dodge and sometimes block his attacks.

Oon`Nu and Viralestopheles: Poxgiver suffered horrendously at the hands of the furies due to Vetis` selfish decision to help his own first and his enemies last. Nonetheless, your superior is now forced to destroy you, though his efforts are less than prime. It is a tough fight, but the two of you will prevail. More specific parameters will be sent via PM.

Lacessera: You stand alone against your superior, the great mistress Caressela. She is somewhat injured due to the furies attacks and Vetis` slow efforts to rescue her. But that doesn`t stop her from trying to eviscerate you. She looks almost sad as she attacks, and you realize that the time for games has passed. You dodge and weave out of her attack range, but even injured Caressela is a fast opponent. Any cohort you have will be annihilated by her as you survive. You do not yet have an oppurtunity to counterattack.


Nonsense is our Salvation

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post #97 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-14-11, 06:12 PM
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Lacessera watched as Anon flew out of a crack in the ground. Suddenly, he addressed the Greater Daemons. Lacessera was puzzled by his words; surely Caralessa owed Anon somehow, or perhaps was fulfilling an obligation? It was strange that she had not said to Lacessera before, as normally she would confide in her most beloved daughter. Suddenly, Anon cried out a name, and Caralessa fell to her knees.

And then turned to attack Lacessera.

Lacessera stared in shock and awe as the majestic form of the Keeper of Secrets advanced, a little worse for wear, but stunningly beautiful nevertheless. Suddenly, and sadly, she made a sweep at Lacessera with her claws. Crying softly, the mighty daemon continued to slash and cut at Lacessera, who dodged each attack just in time.

"Mistress, please, what have I done wrong? How can I earn your forgiveness?!" cried Lacessera, "Please, Caralessa, please, what have I done?" Caralessa didn't stop, still crying, still swiping at Lacessera's pale flesh. Lacessera ducked underneath a claw sweep, and ran underneath her mistress' legs, skidding under and scrambling to her feet on the other side.

"Please! Caralessa!" cried the poor daemonette, before changing tack, "Emerpusrecudes! Please! Stop!"

Give a man a match, and he's warm for a day.

Set a man on fire, and he's warm for the rest of his life!

Cato Marquand
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post #98 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-16-11, 10:40 AM
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Furies snarled in frustration as their attempts to strike at Vetis were meet only with failure, his whole body was engulfed in purple flames and those foolish enough to press any sort of direct assault were now blowing away in the winds, having been reduced to charred black ashes. Yet their attempt to mutilate his being ceased abruptly as they turned their attentions to the sky and flew away. Puzzled yet satisfied Vetis was able to spare a moment to rest, the battle had raged for quite some time now with the mysterious Necrons disappearing back into the depths of the Earth from which they came. Which left only Furies; such pathetic spawns were a waste of Vetis’s power he longed to use his new found Favour to destroy Anon.

Spotting Wyrdcaller coming towards him Vetis looked around for Korthose, fortunately he was nearby and Vetis moved to greet him.

“It would seem that Wyrdcaller seeks an audience, I hope that you, like myself have grand stories to recite about the battle today?”

After listening to his response Vetis waited on Wyrdcaller to arrive. Suddenly Daemonic fire crashed into the rock formations around them and Vetis ducked into the nearest crevice. Was Wyrdcaller shooting at them? As if on cue another bolt of pink lighting arched down from the sky to destroy a segment of rock in front of him, Wyrdcaller was easily spotted as the one casting.
Emerging back onto the battlefield Vetis took aim at Wyrdcaller and blasted up at his form with all the force that he could muster. His attacks were useless and bounced off Wyrdcaller, However Vetis was not so lucky and Wyrdcaller returned his aggression with fire and lighting. Sent flying by the blast Vetis was only stopped by crashing headfirst into a rather large rock. Attacking the Greater Daemon was no longer an option and he vouched to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Whatever was going on, Vetis knew that Anon would have had his hand in it.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Unforgiven302 View Post
It's called a meltagun because "microwave over gun" is retarded

Things a Guardsman would say
" Why do the Orks have one of our Basilisks?"
" Quick get that spotlight over here if our lasguns can kill then that mean's it must be a template weapon!"
" Lighter, X ray, tanning machine dang weres the kill setting on this lasgun?"
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post #99 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-17-11, 08:38 PM
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Gong'Alt got up from his position, crouched over the spot where the Necron had vanished. Then, like a murderous animal, he saw Bonecrusher speeding towards him, air-borne on large leathery wings. He howled with savage ferocity, surpassed only by the great Khorne himself. Gong'Alt trembled with fear as his superior landed mere meters away from him. "Anon... Kill Anon..." the monster blurted out as he attempted to restrain himself. Gong'Alt advanced slowly, carefully, too frightened to utter a word. Then the Bloodthirster roared at him, spattering him with spittle. Their Bloodthirster's savage eyes met his - fiery oranges that seemed to seethe with fire.

Gong'Alt didn't know what to do. He couldn't attack his superior... Then a thought occured to him. Maybe its what he wanted. Kill Anon... That traitor must have taken control over Bonecrusher somehow, and ordered him to destroy his followers. Without a second thought, Gong'Alt charged his master, Hellblade alight. He was taken by surprise as the Daemon's large whip struck his legs, causing him to fall. He quickly rolled to the left, just avoiding a giant axe blade. Gong'Alt jumped to his feet and charged once more, roaring from the humiliation of being taken off guard.

His screams were drowned out by those of Bomecrusher, who had wound up for another strike with his giant axe. Gong'Alt leapt to meet the blade, and grabbed onto it, clambering clumsily onto the flat surface. The Daemon head beneath his feet snarled and bit, but was restrained within the weapon. Making use of his speed, he ran a step and leapt, landing onto Bonecrusher's muscular shoulders. Gong'Alt laughed. This is all it took!? For so long he's allowed this being to control him, when it was this simple to begin with!?

He plunged his Hellblade into the Daemon's shoulder, laughing hysterically. With a painful lurch, he twisted the Hellblade deeper into the flesh, and cleaved the arm straight off, blood spewing from the gaping wound. He howled with delight at this sudden victory. This was his moment of weakness. Bonecrusher howled twice as loud as before and pounced towards him, delivering a painful kick by a heavy hoof. Gong'Alt glanced up at the enraged daemon as it ensnared him in its pulsing, barbed whip, readying to sqeeze the blood out of him. To his horror, he saw the tendons from the lacerated arm wound shoot out and reattach, to the fallen arm. With a quick jerk, the arm flung back to its socket, the muscle and skin tissue rebuilding itself at a supernatural rate. Bonecrusher snarled in mockery and raised the daemon-faced axe, ready to deliver the final blow.


If someone lacks intelligence, than he is not stupid, because one cannot be stupid without intelligence.

If someone reverts to having to complain about your grammar, then you already won.

Last edited by DestroyerHive; 01-18-11 at 08:22 PM.
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post #100 of 118 (permalink) Old 01-18-11, 12:54 PM
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It was as Tha'Aktos turned he saw his rival Gong'alt about to be flayed by their master. For a second he considered letting Bonecrusher erase him from this world, but realised that they stood a much greater chance fighting as one, together. "Anon has possessed the mighty Bonecrusher; Minions: attack him!"

With a fury matching that of Bonecrusher, his cohort and him charged the greater daemon. Bonecrushers axe was raised above his head, prearing for the final strike. Just before he attacked, the pain of 3 Hellblades carved into his calf, almost compeltely severing the tendon. This only subdued the daemon slightyl however, as with a casual flcik of his ankle, he crushed two of the cohort. The other bloodletter attacked again, finally carving through the tendon completely.

With a cry of pain, Bonecrushers barbed whip released Gong'alt, ensaring the doomed bloodletter. Within seconds he squeezed the life out of him; sending him back to the warp. Only 4 of Tha'Aktos' cohort remained, each one hell bent on obeying Tha'Aktos' orders.

Tha'Aktos felt no remorse at the sight of him minions deaths; he would see them again soon enough. Using his gifts, he darted under Bonecrusher, dodging his strong yet slow attacks from his axe; his dualhellblades lacerating flesh from Bonecrushers limbs with every stroke.

He could feel Bonecrushers anger pulsing through him, 3 more of his cohort died under one powerful crushing blow from his axe; the last of his cohort being ripped in to between his arms.

It was only Gong'alt and Tha'Aktos now; facing a one-armed, one-crippled leg daemon. Tha'Aktos leapt up the daemons arm, turning his hellblade towards Bonecrushers wings, preparing to carve...
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