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Discussion Starter #61
Destruction and Taint had stood in silence for seversl hours as the scans had continued. Occasionally, Destruction would shift his stance in an involuntary reaction, but for the most part, they were still and silent.

Footsteps drew their attention. Heavy metallic steps on the floor approaching the control deck.

This is unusual. Taint said via the link. I believed that there were only three of us aboard this ship?

Indeed. Destruction replied. And I do not believe that Shadow would produce such heavy footfall.

It was rare for any necron to joke, and rightly so, for the attempt at humour was completely lost on Taint. Instead, the flayer simply moved into a combat position just before the doorway. With a silent motion, the doors opened, and both the necrons were taken by surprise.

'Pain?' Taint exclaimed, forced to speak due to the Immortal`s absence from the tomb link.

'Indeed.' Pain spoke as well. 'You did not truly expect me to fall to human clutches did you?'

'He escaped the human research vessel, and traced his way back to us.' Shadow, the Wraith, added as he emerged into the room behind Pain.

On another note, the warp anomoly we`ve been monitoring seems to have engulfed the entire second planet. Shadow said.

I know. Destruction said. What`s more, it seems to have spread to here.

Then we`re out of time. Taint said aggessively. We have to take the chance...


--- --- ---


Anon suppressed his irritation at being ignored and looked down upon by the other daemons. He could sense their opinions of him, the looks some of them gave in his and each other`s directions. How typical of their kind, each once convinced of their own superiority. They were almost as bad as humans in that sense.

When the last had walked through the warp rift, he followed.

Carnage and anarchy were close, they could all sense it immediately. They stood in a desolate piece of land, surrounded by hills and rocky outcrops. Each could sense a mass of mortal souls gathered just over the ridge.

'They are ready for us!' Wyrdcaller screeched. 'They have amassed an army beyond counting, how can we face that with so few?!'

'Afraid?' Anon asked calmly. 'Do not be. The rift is growing as we speak. We will be reinforced within moments, I assure you.'

Within moments of Anon`s infuriatingly calm reply, the rift behind them seemed to waver and expand. Wyrdcaller`s snide remark was bitten back as the darkness spread, covering the ground beneath their feet and stretching in all directions.

'How is this happening?' Caressela asked. 'You`re not strong enough to do this by yourself! Are you?'

'You shouldn`t make assumptions.' Anon replied. 'But no, I am not. We owe this to the cult I established here several years ago. Even now, they enact their rituals, they make their sacrifices, all to empower the dark rift that will engulf this world.'

'But why?!' Bonecrusher roared.

'To awaken the sleepers beneath.' Anon chuckled...


--- --- ---

All: We are facing the Sistrs of Battle.

Khornate Daemons: With a frustrated roar, Bonecrusher urges you forward. As you rush over the hill, you see the army assembled before you, rushing headlong to meet your charge. At the forefron are the repentia, eager to meet your swords and axes with their own. Fight alongside Bonecrusher, one to either of his flanks, so he can help both of you.

Nurglite Daemons: You advance in the Knornate`s wake, eliminating any who would seek to surround them. As the formations hit one another, you move to the right, engaging a unit of celestians. Poxgiver advances with you, invigorating and giving help as you need it.

Tzeentchian Daemons: Take the left flank of the formation, where the combat suits your style. Engage units of sisters attempting to fire from the cover of their rhino transports. Wyrdcaller hovers above, raining spells upon those that cause you problems.

All: We are at a huge disadvantage in this scenario. But as your progress begins to slow, the dark rift still expanding in your wake, legions of daemonic furies begin to emerge, giving you the assistance you need. We have a chance to win this battle, though casualties are to be expected.
 

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Gong'Alt paused before the ridge as Bonecursher roared in fury and charged down. Gong'Alt approached the ridge warily, concious of the fact that he was vulnerable without his cohort to act as mobile shields. He paused slightly before the ridge, and listened to the muted booming of Bolters as they hammered against his fellow Daemons. This didn't feel right. He felt hopelessly lost, like there was absolutely no hope of winning. He peeked over and gazed upon dozens of heavily armored humans.

Gong'Alt had faced them before. They will definately be trouble to him - he was never forced to face them alone before. His heart grew heavy, with a sinking motion. This feeling was alien to him. Where was his bloodlust, that he so cherished? No more butterlies or eagerness to get into battle. Just hopelesness...

He glanced left and noticed the Plaguebearers of Nurgle trudge on past him. He had been one of the last to leave. Gong'Alt stepped over the ridge and ran towards the lines of Power Armor, though without the same excitement that he would normally have experienced. He thought this would be a lost battle. There was no way he could win. He rubbed his hand over his black, carapaced armor, and ran it along the large spike on his shoulder, until his finger bled at the point. His armor would be the only thing to protect him from the ensuing battle, and he knew even then that it wouldn't provide much protection.

A pack of Furies, the castaways of Chaos, were ravaging a squad of Sisters, swooping in from different directions, even picking them off the ground. Gong'Alt joined the fight, hacking and slashing with his dully lit Hellblade, bearing only a slight glow. At once, the hardened gaze of a Sister had pierced his eyes. Thoughts flooded his mind. Thoughts of his dead cohort filled his mind, how he was so alone. Then, the visage of Tha'Aktos manifested itself on the power-armored body, a savage snarl directed towards him. Gong'Alt's Hellblade flared white-hot, and he rushed at the woman, holding his Hellblade tight in hands as to draw blood.

The blade swund hard, and cleaved the head straight off, sending it into the body of an attacking Fury. Gong'Alt roared in hateful fury and hammered his blade into the rank of Sisters, cleaving off limbs and heads, parrying attacks with his pulsing whip. A sister charged at Gong'Alt, chainsword held high and roaring. He screamed in hatred and charged forward. However, a Fury of Chaos had also had its predatory eyes set upon the foe and sent out on leathery wings to destroy it. Gong'Alt's whip latched onto the approaching Fury and sent it crashing to the ground aflame. Sword held high, he dodged the calculated blow of the Sister and met her with his own blade. She collapsed to the ground in two pieces, the wounds sealed black by the Warp flames. Corpses of Sister lay strewn about him, brought down by the Furies and his own savage attacks.

Gong'Alt roared in hatred, swinging his sword wildly, but connecting with nothing. His eyes were bursting with veins, and his whip lashed at the ground madly, igniting the grass pathches wherever it touched. The pack of Furies had landed in a circle around him, carefully examining his curious behavior. One of them edged forward carefully, hand outstreched. Gong'Alt's head swerved lightning quick, and the Fury leapt back, cowering and whimpering. With a mighty roar, he charged forward and ensnared it with his whip, tightly binding and burning. The Furies backed up in fear and took flight, screeching aimlessly. Gong'Alt screamed after their fleeting bodies and swung his blade wildly in the air, before smashing it on the ground. Then his Hellblade lost its flame and he collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

He didn't have a cohort, his team was too scattered, and the enemy's numbers were huge. He was alone against an endless horde of humans. He felt so weak and... empty. His eyes flooded with water, a feeling that seemed to fit him like a second layer of skin. Wiping away the tears from his eyes, he stood up on wavering legs, and looked at his fellow daemons slash their ways through the Sisters of Battle. His mouth then formed a savage snarl and he charged, shrieking bloodlust, sword held high, whip lashing to his sides. He was going to die, but he wasn't going to do it alone!
 

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Tha'Aktos responded to Bonecruchers howl with a bark of his own, backed up by the cries of his cohort. Following Bonecrusher on his right flank, they charged headling to meet the Sisters of Battle in bloody conflict. The repentia's screamed they challenges and prayers of blind faith at the bloodletters; what hope did such unarmoured humans have against the mighty minions of Khorne?

Tha'Atos knew that the numbers were against him, and he could only hope that reinforcements would soon arrive. Finally their charge met; Tha'Aktos sending 2 of the repentia's flying off theire feet, their intestines trailing behind them. If Khorne hadd granted Tha'Aktos the power to ignore armour, what hope did these humans have?

Another repentia swung her huge eviscerator at Tha'Atkos, but the size of the weapon made her attack clumsy; Tha'Aktos capitalising perfectly on this, swinging his dual hellblades high and low, cleaving her in two.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gong'alt on all fours; was that a tear in his eye? Tha'Aktos barked out a howl of laughter as he killed another repentia; his dual weapons and vastly superior strength more than a match for such a large, clumsy weapon. Gong'alt was crying in the middle of battle; Khorne would surely punish this weakling, and would surely look down on Tha'Aktos as the stronger of the two bloodletters champions, furthering his rewards and status in the eyes of his mighty patron!

A repentia almost took advantage of Tha'Aktos' slightly distracted status, almost cleaving straight through his head. In retaliation, he headbutted the mortal, caving in her skull without any trouble.

He ducked a wild strike, parrying the follow up attack, striking his remainin gblade straight through her heart. Another 3 sisters attacked; proving a challenge for him. Had he only hah one hellblade he would have surely fell to the amount of massed attacks coming towards him. Parrying and ducking, he waited for his moment to strike. One of his cohort was struck down, the remaining 7 of his cohort fighting all the stronger for it.

One of the sisters went for his thorax, Tha'Aktos blocking only just in time. Another sisters attack sent him falling on to his back, stunned for a slight second. He quickly rolled to the side as a sisters weapon struck were he was laying mere miliseconds ago, burying itself in the hard ground. Before she could withdraw the weapon, Tha'Aktos striked hard and fast, swiping his arm in a downards motion, taking her head from her shoulders. The second sister screamed, lunging at him clumsily. He sidestepped her attack; stabbing both of his blades through her back as she continued forward with her momentum. The third sister, faith still unbound, swung yet again for his head. Tha'Aktos ducked, and the blade cleaved through the head of another of his cohort, reducing their number to 7.

With a gleeful smile, Tha'Aktos attacked the repentia, forcing her backwards. He was only playing with her however, as with casual grace he cut her legs straight through the knee, her body falling to the floor. Standing over her, he raised his leg, forcefully crashing down on top of her face, crushing her skull utterly.
 

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Korthose emerged from the warp rift to a sight that mildly surprised him, he had heard the humans machines moving before they had moved a centimetre thanks to his "illness" he chuckled to himself the ammout of knowledge he could obtain with this, what had he done to please his lord so much to merit this gift? It was no matter he had it and he would use it.

He hung back while the greater daemons spoke with the lesser anon, he over heard their words even if he didn't want to, wrdcaller announced that he and the tzeentchian daemons would take the left flank, Korthose moved toward the flank, it drew some strange looks from wrdcaller who most likely had no idea how Korthose had heard him.

The humans were predictable in a ranged fight, take out the most dangerous target first, that was wrdcaller, then destroy the less powerful infantry. "we shall see who is more of a threat to you."

Korthose' daemons lighted fireballs as one and sent a barage of fire over the Rhinos, most fell short but some crashed into the tanks and caused alot of noise and fire. "target weak spots if you must destroy the tanks," announced Korthose as if he was bored. His daemons moves in a complex pattern to avoid fire from the sisters, 2 of his daemons perished in a well aimed salvo of fire. "shit they are organised, FREE MOVEMENT BROTHERS, BURN THEIR FLESH TO CINDERS." yelled Korthose, some daemons rushed into the sisters and were cut down like kittens, Korthose sighed and ignited a fireball, as the fire all appeared so did two more pairs of arms each with a fireball nestled in the palms, Korthose laughed he was delighted win his power.

The fireballs arched perfectly, they burst into three sisters who melted and fell. Koehler continued like this and quickly thinned down the entire squad. There were still some to kill however from other squads, Korthose ignited another fireball, he was about to throw it, but he fainted and fell to the ground, the two blue horrors were still in the cage but a pink horror whom Korthose recognised as the one he had accidently killed. The blue horrors sat in the corners and glared at the pink one who was in a deep slumber.

Korthose walked towards the cage, "what have I been gifted with?"

"gifted? More like cursed, you will never be yourself again, when you touch something you steal it's soul and it will be trapped in here. Each will give you some form of benefit, for example you stole his soul." the blue horror pointed at the pink horror, " and you can throw more fireballs than normal. But you will forever hear his voice inside your head, he will leave a print of himself every time you conjure a ball of flame his power will grow and you will lose some of your soul and it will be trapped in here."

"why do you help me?"

"I am you, just in a different form, if you die I die, and I do not wish that to happen. We will govern the cage for you and try to keep the souls dormant, but we are just two."

"thank you," gratitude was not normally an emotion Korthose felt, but when his life was concerned........

Korthose awoke to see the sky and trails of bullets flying across the sky, he got to his feet and conjured a fireball, there was only his hands, he smiled and silently thanked the blue horrors.
 

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This is Disgusting

Before Vetis stood a desolate wasteland, the ground was charred a dark black under his feet and could be seen as far as his eyes could see, the landscape was dotted with dark rocks and ridge formations were the images of their immediate enemy resided; waiting for their attack to come. Gazing upon the mass of mortals that had been gathered to oppose them it became evident that they were severely outnumbered. What was more was that those who they were to be facing were that Sisters of the Ecclesiarchy.But it was to be expected that the humans would pick these ones to combat Anon, Vetis knew them to be the female worshipers of the false emperor and proved to at least try and put up a fight unlike the tiny guardsmen that would sooner save their own skin then die in a good fight. It was nice to have the change, naturally of course.

To his surprise two of his little ones had survived the last battle and he had seen to it that they were rewarded after he had punished the others. With one of his minions standing either side of him Vetis readied himself for the coming battle and waited on the greater demons to order the charge. He didn’t have to wait long and soon he found himself thrust forward into the lines of the sisters.

The rattle of bolters filled the air and the thumping of auto cannons rang out in the distance, frag grenade’s burst in the air around him and shrapnel rained from the skies. Vetis was moving was his fellow Daemons, the servants of Tzeentch were to place fire onto the Sisters which were attempting to cover their fellows in the front lines with support fire from their Rhino transports. Yet they had not taken kindly to the Daemons approaching and even now Vetis ran half crouched between the rocky formations which were being blown to pieces by the minute by the unrelenting hail of fire from the Transports. As Wyrdcaller rained his unholy fire upon a particularly trouble group of sisters Vetis took the opportunity to leap out from behind his cover and make a dash up the hill to run around the Sisters behind the cover of the rocks.

The firing was close, he could hear them screaming and was able to recognize the Litany of Fury and the Prayer of Deliverance above the din of fire. Even in the heat of battle did they pray to their false Emperor, building his pace into a sprint Vetis ran up a ridge overlooking one of the Sisters Rhino transports and leaped off with all the strength he could muster. His legs flailing wildly in the air he was right above the Rhino, it was time to put his new gifts to good use. A dozen Sisters were below him, clinging to the cover of their pathetic vehicle, with a muffled prayer to Tzeentch Vetis summoned to his hands Tzeentchs Bolt and threw it downwards into the Rhino. The ringing of the Rhino’s heavy bolters ceased abruptly as the whole vehicle was torn asunder like a sharp pin meeting a balloon it burst and the transports exterior was blown outwards taking many of the sisters, that had only moments before been standing next to them, at a fast flying rate straight into the rugged landscape around them, many were crushed in-between the shrapnel of the Rhino and the walls of the rocky outcrop.

Vetis landed with a rolling motion and got to his feet once more, below him lay one of the unfortunate crew that had manned the former Rhino its face twisted in anger and hate but its feeble body burned alive within its armored shell.

Charming

Brushing himself off, Vetis turned just in time to see a bloodied and battered sister half way through her swing. A once fine looking chainsword now ruptured and scratched from the explosion was gripped firmly in her slender yet powerful arms. Throwing himself down Vetis narrowly avoided decapitation before squirmed backwards in time to get out of harm’s way from the Sisters second swing. Risking a brief glance behind the sister he saw that his little ones had problems of their own and were confronting two of the other surviving sisters, and not with an astounding amount of success. His thoughts were dragged back to the matter at hand as the angry female came at him again. Dodging her uppercut Vetis managed to throw a punch of his own which impacted on the sister’s armor with enough force to down a normal man. But the Sisters of Battle were not normal or in a manner of speaking not like men. Instead Vetis was forced to dive left when the battle Sister thrust the chainsword forward. Turning on his back Vetis watched as the Sister trudged through the dirt to meet him again, but now he had a chance to win this fight and he took it. Summoning fireballs into all four of his hands Vetis projected them at the oncoming female and his shots his home. With a thud the armor clad warrior woman fell face first into a puddle of mud and her movement ceased.

Looking to see that his little ones had handled their own battles Vetis would finally breathe a sigh of relief but it was short-lived.

One down, a few odd thousands to go
 

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Discussion Starter #66 (Edited)
Anon advanced in the daemonic spearhead formation`s wake, taking a grim satisfaction at seeing these servants of Humanity laid low. He noted with a trace of amusement that Gong`Alt seemed to be losing some of his enthusiasm. How satisfying it felt, to feel the despair present in even a servant of Khorne.

It was short lived however, as the fury of the Blood God reaffirmed its hold on the Bloodletter`s psyche in short order.

'There`s potential in that one...' Anon muttered to himself. 'I wonder if he would fare well against their leader.'

Anon turned, Bonecrusher was quickly furrowing his way towards a woman who was obviously the Canoness. To her credit, the woman was not fleeing, but advancing. Far from being the fool however, Anon noted with slight trepidation the pair of meltagun armed celestians accompanying their leader.

'Wyrdcaller!' Anon called. 'The Heavy Weapons! Get rid of them now!'

The Lord of Change snarled an affirmative response, before relaying the order to his minions.

Moments later the Plaguebearer Oon`Nu appeared to Anon`s side.

'This is fun and all, but surely you have a purpose in mind?' He asked.

'They`ll be here, trust me.' Anon said, irritated by the presence of the nurglite daemon so close. 'Now, get back to the battle. Do you wish the furies to take all of your plague victims for themselves?' He turned and hurried forward, leaving the plagubearer to his own devices.

The furies numbered almost as many as the sisters now, crawling from the lingering darkness and dropping from the darkening sky. Anon drew his sword as a pair of foolhardy warriors somehow broke free of the melee and ran straight for him, bolters blazing. He dodged the rounds easily, advancing to countercharge. His gleaming silver sword met the whirring teeth of the sister superior`s chainsword with a clash of metal and the flash of sparks.

'Pitiful Mortal.' Anon whispered. 'You cannot begin to understand what fate you have chosen.'

'Silence, abomination!' She screamed back. 'I will see you vanquished, even at the cost of my own life, for my soul belongs to the Emperor!'

'Wrong.' Anon laughed, pushing her back. Only now did she realize she was alone, her fellow sister lying headless at the feet of Bragi.

'It`s about time you showed up.' Anon said.

'You vile creature!' The surviving sister cried. 'DIE!'

But before she could move, shadowy clawed hands shot from the ground and grabbed her feet. Taken completely by surprise, she could only stare in horror as the dark form of Lakhi emerged from the sister`s own shadow.

'What warpspawn is this?!' the sister exclaimed in a horrified stupor. Anon silently laughed, it seemed that the sister believed Lakhi to be a shadow of herself, a false illusion owed to the fury`s still humanish appearance.

'FEEEEED!' Lakhi screamed, before her jaws opened impossibly wide in a hungering scream. Quicker than the sister could react, Lakhi had the human`s head between her jaws and inhaled sharply, drawing the screaming soul from its husk and absorbing its essence.

'Had your fill yet?' Anon asked.

'No.' Lakhi said. 'We hunger more!'

'Move along then.' Anon said. With relish, Lakhi and Bragi rejoined the fight, taking wing and vanishing into the battle.

--- --- ---

Tha`Aktos: As you and your cohort advance, a group of furies advances parallel to you. You recognise the fury Nikar, one of Anon`s followers, and a gaze of challenge passes between you. A contest begins, to see who can kill the most humans over the other. I leave it to you whether you win or lose in score, but keep the numbers realistic, about a dozen and a half to each group would be reasonable.

Gong`Alt: As you hear Bonecrusher`s roar of fury, you see the meltagun wielding humans fire. Though he survives, he has the good sense to take a massive leap backwards before they can fire again. One of the sister`s artillery pieces hits him again, moments before Wyrdcaller destroys it. The meltagunners are closing fast, you must intervene!

Also, do you feel that Wyrdcaller deliberately waited until Bonecrusher was wounded before he destroyed the tank? Fell free to share a few curses with the Lord of Change, if you have the courage.

Viralistopheles: Advancing with your cohort, you are growing frustrated with the impudent furies taking souls that are rightfully yours. Anon`s sycophant Bragi is among them. Are you angered enough to slay the furies? Or would you prefer to stay on Anon`s good side. With a glance at Poxgiver nearby, you see he clearly shares your sentiment. He would likely back your decision...

Oon`Nu: (if you can:)) Anon`s discourteous tone with you earlier was quite insulting to your prowess. The corpses of sisters are strewn everywhere, ripe for infection. Will you continue with Anon`s command and see to eliminating the sisters that yet survive? Or would you rather begin construction of your own little army?

Vetis: Wyrdcaller relay`s Anon`s orders to target the heavy weapons carriers. But with furies flying everywhere, it may be easier to simply let loose in all directions. It`s up to you really, you could challenge yourself and look for the more dangerous enemies, or continue as you have been.

Korthose: Much like Vetis, your actions are your own to decide. Much to the dismay of the Lord of Change, Wyrdcaller has been targeted by a squad of sisters carrying Heavy Bolters as well as a Chimera transport bearing a multilaser. Will you aid him by removing one of his attackers at your own risk? Or leave him to fend for himself and choose a safer adversary?

Lacaressa: You find your way to the flank of the sister`s battleline. Caressela gives you a mischevous grin that you`ve seen all too many times before. You are essentially in direct competition with the furies and other daemons to corrupt and claim as many souls as you can.

From the previous conquest, Lacaressa received the unholy might gift (physically stronger) and the allure of Slaanesh (making you better at what you do, even against foes as devout as battle sisters).


ooc: Bear with me guys, something important is coming up in the next update. Anon`s real purpose is about to become known. :biggrin:
 

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(ooc: this post is both before and after your last update, sorry i have been busy)

Viralistopheles's progression was slow on this Terrain, and he was being cautious after the would he took from the grey knights. Watching the others wade into the foe, and succeed with the help of the furies however gave him the confidence he needed. He drew close to the enemy, then withdrew. Then again, drawing close and then withdrawing... never giving them a clear shot, never giving them a chance at melee... this was hard for Viralistopheles, because he is not swift, but he managed.... finally, Poxgiver offered the chance Viralistopheles had been looking for. Poxgiver drew the attention of the Celestials and the condensed on Poxgiver to try to take him out, then Viralistopheles charged.....

Caught somewhat unawares the Celestials, readied for melee against Viralistopheles, not knowing that was not his intention.... as his legs spread and leaking blackened anus came into view the Celestial Sister Superior who was disgusted, and raised her Chainsword to strike only to be Doused with Viralistopheles's Breath of Chaos, striking into the heart of the group... Viralistopheles's especially enjoyed how the sister with the Imagifer's eyes widened just before her death.... Then, one of the Celestials, who was nothing but average, armed with a bolter suddenly changed.... and leapt forward with speed and grace like no other. This was no celestial..... it was a Callidus Assassin! Viralistopheles was shocked at first...., it leapt toward Viralistopheles and swung it's C'tan Phase sword severing two of Viralistopheles's tentacles. Viralistopheles knew he had to use all his might to face this foe, and lunged forward with all his tentacles losing 3 more in the thrust, but managed to constrict around the Assassin's arm and leg.... Viralistopheles could feel Poxgiver's power surging through him as he brought his Pincer claws to bear and cut the Assassin in half... Viralistopheles's missing five tentacles grew back into ten. Viralistopheles laughing, looked to Poxgiver who's toothy smile was ear to ear.

But Viralistopheles, and Poxgiver's joy was short lived... as the furies swooped down to take the easy leftover kills.... this enraged Viralistopheles. As he looked to Poxgiver who gave him a nod, Viralistopheles used his tentacles to latch onto a fury, then another, and another... the furies were trying to fly away wanting nothing to do with Viralistopheles. Finally once Viralistopheles had 4 furies by the legs, and was being lifted off the ground..... Viralistopheles used his strength to bring them together, and then managed another gout of Chaos breath onto the entrapped furies.... falling a short distance, Viralistopheles was a but disoriented when he landed, looking around, he saw Anon, facing him in the distance... he could not tell if Anon was looking at him, as he could not see his eyes, but a bit of sick feeling crept into Viralistopheles. Hurrying to catch up to Poxgiver who had moved on, Viralistopheles was proud of himself.
 

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Gong'Alt's temper had swirled violently in his mind. The image of his dead cohort had appeared infront of his eyes, stalking about to inspect the corpses of fallen sisters, before vanishing back into nothingness. His vision had blurred with an orange tint, the outlines of his bulging veins clearly visible. He grunted heavily - not because he was tired, but because he was angry. Then he'd relapse back into a dark state, nearly collapsing to the ground a few times. All the while, the battle around him seemed blurry, the noises muted to a whisper. What was he to do? He didn't want to fight anymore... Or did he? His mood switched violently again, throwing him into an angry stupor. He pounded onwards, taking long strides, his carapaced armor shifting as his moved.

The sounds of battle had removed the cotton from his ears, as Bonecrusher came under fire from a heavy piece of artillery. Gong'Alt couldn't help but smile a bit. No one mattered to him anymore. He was alone - as far as he was concerned, there were no allies. Then a long, thick beam of power had shot forth from the smoke of battle, as Wyrdcaller came to the Khorne daemon's aid. Gong'Alt cared not, for it was of no benefit to him. The large daemon roared in frustration, having been bested by the humans. Gong'Alt glanced left once more, catching sight of a large group of sisters advancing, shining guns in their hands. He battled too many times not to recognize them. The first time he saw one, it had blasted a hole straight through one of his brethren, and just barley missed Gong'Alt who happened to be standing behind him. Bonecrusher wouldn't make it under a single volley from the potent weapons. He merely grunted. It didn't matter.

He stalked on into the distance, keeping his eye on the sisters incase they spotted him and opened fire. He crouched down behind a large boulder. He wanted to go back through the Warp rift. There he'd be reunited with his cohort, and he'd deal with Tha'Aktos another time. After all, he had eternity to plan his attack.

Peering back over the rock, his vision once again blurred over with a heavy orange tint, his veins creating cracks in his vision. His whip lashed about, igniting small patches of grass. Then, the heads of the sisters grew disproportionate, sprouting long horns, and taking on a terrifying, red face. They all pivoted towards him and snarled his name with a mocking tone; "Gong'Alt... Khorne's weakest! Think you're tough because you're so tall? You think you're better than me? Come fight! I'LL TAKE YOU DOWN!"

With that, Gong'Alt sprung forth from the boulder, roaring his fury upon the sisters; "I'LL KILL YOU THA'AKTOS!" He charged into the sisters, swinging his blazing blade in wide arcs, slicing through the humans' bodies with ease. "I'LL SMASH YOUR STUPID SKULL AGAINST THE ROCKS AND GRIND YOUR TINY BODY INTO A DAMN SLURRY, THAT WONT EVEN BE WORTHY OF FEEDING THE HOUNDS!" He grabbed one by the head and tore it from the body, spinal cord still attached. The others backed up in fear, and readied their weapons. To Gong'Alt, he did not see terrified looks, but rather the laughing face of Tha'Aktos. He orared again, "I'LL RIP YOUR TONGUE FROM YOUR IDIOTIC MOUTH AND SMASH OFF YOUR JAW! THEN I'LL GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES WITH MY THUMBS AND TOSS YOUR CORPSE INTO THE LAKES OF BLOOD!" He swung once more, slicing two of the sisters in half. Another one had Gong'Alt's head through her ironsights, and she fired.

Making use of his quick reflexes, Gong'Alt dropped to the ground and performed a backflip which had knocked the sister off balance. Regaining himself, he stepped ontop of her and kicked away the meltagun. "What's a matter? Can't kill me? You pathetic creature! Khorne had never intend-" He screamed loudly and pounded his fists into Tha'Aktos' face, pulverising the skull, and releasing pools of brain-matter. The dead sister lay beneath his feet, and he panted heavily, roaring in animalistic fury, swinging his hellblade wildly in all directions, tears pouring from his eyes.
 

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Tha'Aktos was finally having some fun! An endless horde of the corpse gods minions blocking his murderous path; they stood no chance against him, he knew it! More and more furies came from the warp portal, enhancing their strength against the dwindling human force.

Tearing through the midriffs of two sisters, he glanced over to his rival Gong'alt. He noted that he was serving Khorne well; but he was the superior daemon. Only the strongest daemon could make sure his cohort was not destroyed, especially in the very first battle. Gong'alt was wasting too much time; he noted Gong'alt slaughtering one human on the floor, a quick look could tell the mortal was long dead. Why waste such precious killing time mutilating a corpse? Khorne does not care for this; he cares for more skulls and blood! Tha'Aktos did not waste time with such useless actions; every one of his movements claimed more skulls for his patrons throne. Khorne would notice this, and Khorne would reward...

A whole squad of 10 battle sisters fell under his cohorts swift advance. With the furies to distract the other humans, the fighting had become less intense; enabling him to slaughter his way without much trouble. He would soon reach the 100 mark; but he would aim for much higher. More sisters fell to the cohorts blades; their armour melting under the power pulsing through their weapons, their iron will beginning to crack as they realised their doom.

More furies advanced, one he recognised to be Nikar, a fury he had known previously. He saw the challenging gaze in the furies eyes, and was only to ready to accept. With a nod, and then a snarl, he leapt into the closest group of sisters, hacking left and right. 3 Sisters died in the inital assault, a further 2 dying as they pitifully attempted to defend themselves. The fury may have been able to fly above the battlefield and swoop down on his prey, but the entire time Nikar was doing that, Tha'Aktos was hacking away gleefully.

He was a daemon built for murder; how could a chaos reject hope to defeat him? How absurd! As they slaughtered their way through countless souls, he was impressed by Nikar almost keeping up with him; but Tha'Aktos was too fast; never did he rest from the slaughter. Evertime he went up to the sky or fed, he lost valuable seconds which Tha'Aktos easily capitalised on.

Two of his cohort were lost during the challenge, but he did not care. He was too lost in the moment of battle to even notice. He would not have known if any of his cohort even remained with him.

By the time Nikar was recalled by his master, the score was around 62 - 58 to Tha'Aktos. His muscles were tired, but his bloodlust overshadowed any fatique he should have been feeling. He was impressed by Nikar though, and bet that his kil tally was greater than Gong'alt's; especially if he still wasted his time so on corpses...

(ooc I was a bit rushed, so will hopefully be able to improve tomorrow)
 

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Lacessera Auress ran swiftly along the left flank of Anon's forces, slowly progressing further and further to the side. Whenever she met resistance, she simply danced past, flying over enemies with deft leaps, pausing only to brush herself against them as she dodged their blows. These Sisters of Battle would prove hard to seduce, even for Lacessera, and their armour too strong to penetrate. As though hearing her thoughts, Caralessa turned around, and beckoned to the daemonette. The Keeper of Secrets took Lacessera in her claws, much to the joy of the daemonette, who began writhing ecstatically. Chuckling softly, the Greater Daemon instilled the powers of Unholy Might and Allure of Slaanesh upon her favourite girl. Having received these gifts, Lacessera fell upon the floor, squealing in delight. After the rapt seizure had passed, Lacessera looked up to see a Battle Sister standing over her.

Lacessera quickly rolled up onto her taloned feet, before noting that the Sister wasn't attacking. She was drooling. Her boltgun discarded next to her, the Sister advanced, hands outwards and groping, trying to reach for Lacessera's pale flesh. Giggling, the daemonette allowed the Sister to move her hands along her body and waist, before bringing both her bladed limbs down across her head, decapitating her instantly. Already, her new-found strength and beauty had made their mark. Skipping into the flank of the enemy battleforce, Lacessera began a dance of death.

A group of three Sisters faced the young daemon. Laughing softly, Lacessera sidled up to the first, rubbing her body against the Sister's armour, before stabbing her straight through her back, and puncturing her breastplate. The other two Sisters suddenly re-gained composure, and began firing boltgun shells. Snarling, Lacessera gripped the body of the still dying Sister in talons. Whilst pressing herself tight against the rear of the Sister, Lacessera used her as a meat shield, advancing on the two other Sisters. One of them tried to come around Lacessera's rear. Just as she thrust forward with a combat blade, Lacessera leapt upwards, somersaulting neatly and landing on the Sisters shoulders, her thighs gripped tight around the Sister's neck, and her face covered by Lacessera's thin, purple loincloth. The Sister groped madly through the air, before stumbling and falling. Lacessera landed gracefully, kissing the lips of the fallen Sister before running her through.

Several bolt shells impacted along Lacessera's rear, and she cried in pain. Out of the corner of her eye, Lacessera saw that the Sister facing her was weak-willed. So, feigning defeat, Lacessera fell to the ground. As the Sister approached to finish the job, Lacessera displayed her full body to the enemy. Again, the Allure of Slaanesh did its job, and the Sister dropped her weapon, and stumbled to the floor, falling onto Lacessera and kissing madly at her flesh. Lacessera didn't even kill the Sister, but allowed her to pull apart her own armour to expose her flesh to the daemonette's. Finally, throwing off her last garbs, the Sister too was naked, and both daemonette and Sister sprawled onto the floor, their arms intertwined, and both moaning ecstatically. Finally, the Sister began to experience seizures, as the pleasure became too much. Lacessera's own joy soon melted away, and, after a few final thrusts from the maddened woman, Lacessera stood, and sliced her body in two.

Lacessera laughed slightly, and turned back to face the enemy. How she enjoyed the passion of the living.
 

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Oon'Nu simply chuckled at Anon's remark, the Furies slaughter of the Sisters was merely furthering Oon'Nu's own goal; spread plague and disease and expand the horde of mindless undead he had began creating earlier. It was still furthering the goal, as the more dead that clawed down the living only added to the tally of souls reaped. As an added bonus created a greater Plague God presence in the area.

There were so many bodies just lying about, someone could trip.

He would just have to do something about all those corpses, they would make a fine addition to the horde, Oon'Nu's flies had been feasting on spilt organs from the dead and dying, they returned at his call, forming a milling cloud that gradually dispersed through the battlefield

His instructions to the insects, and his two surviving Nurglings, were clear; infect corpses and generally cause mayhem while Oon'Nu helped out with killing the enemies.

The Plaguebearer charged gleefully into the fray, staggering into a Sister and knocking her to the ground, he opened his mouth gaping wide and regurgitated the entire contents of his distended stomach, hitting the Battle Sister directly, the vicious acid swiftly eaten through armor and flesh.

He grinned through broken teeth and waded through the liquefied mess that had recently been living and headed towards thicker fighting, his blade pulsing dully as it dripped venomous secretions.
 

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The Sky blackened as what little light above was destroyed by the shadows of the furies that flew overhead. Swarms of them engulfed the battlefield, their fiendish cackling could be heard above all else. They swooped low and captured sisters with their talon like feet before flying high once again to gut their prey and send their mutilated corpse spiraling back down to the dirt. Some went for the more direct approach and slammed headlong into the Sisters fire to shred the enemy at ground level. Wyrdcaller relied what orders Anon had for Vetis before continuing to rain a hailstorm of fiery death onto the Esslesiarchy. He must destroy the heavy weapons carriers that advanced with the Canoness, Don’t have to tell me twice Vetis remarked as he dodged another meltagun shot aimed at his upper torso. A wall of sisters advanced slowly in the wake of the Canoness, the furies came like lambs to the slaughter and their winged bodies crashed into the ground all around him as the sisters riddled them with holes.

Vetis had long ago given up hope of hitting anything from other then furies form a ranged distance there were just too many. Using the furies as cover Vetis and his two remaining minions scurried their way through the carnage to meet with the sisters head on. Daemonic fire burned around his four arms and he leaped into battle, immediately killing one of the sisters by impaling her with his arms. The strength of the warp fires that he had summoned to surround his limbs burned straight the power armor of the sister, her wards of protection no were near as strong enough as the grey knights that they had faced earlier and burned away at the presence of such strong warp contamination. Yet she was not the only one to combat and the sisters beside her jumped into the melee, Vetis counted a dozen of them three of them held melta weapons. Luckily his little ones needed no incentive and attacked, delighting in the blood that oozed from the deep wounds they inflicted. Two of the sisters were mauled to death in the little ones blind search for Slaughter, the rest may prove more troublesome. But it was then that the furies took advantage of the distraction that Vetis had created and swooped in to tackle the sisters to the ground and rejoice in their enemies’ cruel misfortune. But Vetis did not welcome their presence if he hoped to gain new rewards from Tzeentch he must claim more kills!

Blasting some of the furies aside Vetis scurried to higher ground, he smiled as he spotted his prey. The Canoness was still advancing her head would entitle him to a pretty prize.
 

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Korthose hurried past a group of ravening furies towards Wrdcaller. Korthose did not particularly like the lord of change but he hoped to rise ever higher in the eyes of his lord. The cannoneer should not be a problem but meltaguns were very potent weapons. He decided his best use would be to harass the sisters with fireballs with barrage after barrage and then ducking into cover. Korthose was about to execute this plan when a near naked sister streaked across the battlefield, Korthose quickly incinerated her, he could not help but think that the slaneshi would have loved to be where he was at that moment in time. He shook the thoughts from his head and concentrated of the task infront.

He leap up and threw a bright orange fireball, it would have hit the cannoness has not a fury decided to dove into the fireball and getting itself burned to cinders. The second bolt was not as accurate but was not pestered by suicidal furies, it fell a pace right if the melta wielding sisters, a nearby cloth wearing sister was burned to cinders in place, the heat from the fireball lit her robes on fire, she was so drugged up she didn't notice the burning until it began to fry her eyebrows infront of her eyes, by then it was to late and she knew it so in a feeble act of resistance she ran towards the daemons only to be crushed by bonecrushers massive foot. Korthose chuckled to himself, he was not going to succeed in doing any damage and the sisters would soon realise it to and stop concentrating on him and go to wrdcaller. He needed something better.

The answer arrived in the shape of a hawk, it swooped down to shoulder height and curved around the battlefield, it flew toward the horror, it tried to swoop away but the daemon quickly snapped out to grab it by the neck. He summoned one of his minions, he did not explain why he did it but he stuck his hand out and ripped the soul from the horror. An extra pair of hand sprouted from his body. He set a light flame in one hand and began to light the bird, the other two conjured fireballs and prepared to throw. He launched the burning bird in the air and threw his fireballs.

They arced perfectly, two fireballs thudded into ones chest, causing no major damage but forcing her back a pace. The bird slowly fluttered to it's death before the cannoness, he hoped they would think the same way he did. He hoped they would assume he was mocking the aquilla by setting a bird on fire and take it as a higher offese than simply existing. They took the bait.....
 

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Discussion Starter #74 (Edited)
Sleepers awake

Anon surveyed the battlefield with a grim detachment. One the one hand, the release of so much psionic energy was sure to awaken the necrons beneath and lay open the path to his objective. But such devout souls being sacrificed would surely please the chaos gods as well. If their... gifts became too powerful, Anon would be forced to rely on his trump card. Wyrdcaller already knew such subservience but it would be unfortunate to show his hand too soon...

With disdain, Anon noticed one of the plaguebearers attacking several of the furies. Almost at the same time, one of the horrors blasted apart several of the furies as well.

'Grrr.' Anon growled in frustration. 'Damn creatures, why can`t they work with one another? Little wonder their kind will soon be dead.'

Confident in his plan, Anon strode forth, stepping with a casual disregard over the corpses of sister and daemon alike. Any moment now, the sleepers would awake. Any moment now, they would-

'MASTER!' Lakhi flew screaming towards him. Instantly, the furies began to mill about uncertainly, the handful of sisters still alive looking as unsure as their daemonic foes. The ground beneath them began to rumble, something was rising, something big...

'What the hell have you done this time?!' Wyrdcaller screeched from above. 'Damn you, you little shadeling, your trickery will be the doom of us all!'

That`s exactly my plan, fool. Anon thought. 'Relax, Lord of Change.' He called calmly.

'Relax?!' Wyrdcaller screamed, descending through the twisting sky and landing before Anon. 'Surely you know what you have done?'

'OF COURSE!' Anon bellowed, cowing even the Lord of Change. 'Do you think you had a higher purpose than this? All I needed you and your wretched kind to do was awaken the necron from their slumber. You can all perish in flames now for all I care!'

With that, Anon bolted forth, Lakhi in close pursuit. As if from some unseen signal, Nikar and Bragi closed in on his locations. Anon jumped, landing lightly on Nikar`s back. The large fury bore the lithe Anon`s weight easily, and the three furies swept high into the sky, flanked on all sides by a wall of their lesser peers as the ground beneath them finally cracked...


--- --- ---


Tha`Aktos: The ground splits open as Nikar breaks off from your contest with a contemptuous glare. Still assailed on all sides by the sisters, necron warriors begin to crawl from the ground in all directions. Have no fear, for more of the warp`s gifts have been bestowed upon you. You have received the Blessing of the Blood God. The enemy`s attacks bounce harmlessly from your armour, only the strongest of attacks has any chance of harming you.

Gong`Alt: Khorne`s bloodlust invigorates you like never before. The foolish humans before you are pulped without effort, and even the necrons are seen to pause before they advance on you. Even so, they won`t back down, so you must fight. You`ve been given Unholy Might, making your strength match any potential rivals.

Viralistopheles: Looking at Anon, you noticed the unpleasant exchange between him and Wyrdcaller. Something is definitely wrong, but there is no time to dwell on it now, necrons are crawling from the ground everywhere.Nurgle bestows upon you the Aura of Decay, causing anything prone to rust rot or ruin to deteriorate by your mere presence.

Vetis: As one of the last Sisters approaches you, intent on her final act of defiance, the ground splits asunder, and necrons begin to crawl from every crevice. Caught in a crossfire, you must go all out to survive. Fortunately, your patron provides. You are now a Master of Sorcery, your magic and skills flow from your form as deftly as a Bloodthirster wields his axe. Your power has increased dramatically.

Korthose: As the Canoness faces off against Vetis, the Celestian bodyguards turn to target you, easily baited by your insult. But you quickly observe that they are far from the only threat. The batlefield was slowly filling with necron warriors, their guns laying waste to the ranks of the furies. Realizing their odds of survival all but gone, the sisters resolve to die in flames. One of them begins priming their immolator to explode. Stop them. You have been gifted with the Bolt of Tzeentch, a blast of incredible power.

Oon`Nu: Your army of zombies cannot stop the emerging necrons, but they can provide the distraction you and your cohort need. Why they are here you can only guess at, all that matters now is your own self preservation. Nurgle grants you the Daemonic Gaze ability, you are able to stike down your foes with a single contemptuous glare from your eye.

Lacaressa: With all the sisters dead, you begin to fear for boredom. All that changes however when the necron warriors begin to emerge. These machines have neither the urges of the flesh nor the means to fulfil them, rendering your allure mostly useless. You and Caressela are forced to rely on might to win this battle, something neither of you are lacking. You receive the breath of Chaos, a short range breath attack, in whatever form suits you.


ooc: They`re here. Guess who`s coming next? :biggrin:
 

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Lacessera was getting bored. Really, really, bored. This was not a good thing. The Sisters facing her were no longer pleasured by excess, simply cut down. Carassela sensed her little daughter's unrest, and attempted to soothe the het-up daemonette. Lacessera enjoyed the sensation, but still her thirst was more. She needed to face something with substance, some enemies that she couldn't just brush aside carelessly. It was an urge unlike her abnormal cravings, a strange bloodlust she had never felt before. She wanted a strong adversary.

And she got it.

Suddenly, the ground shook, cracks in the earth appearing, dust spilling forth in mighty clouds. And from the cracks, came the enemy. Metallic warriors advanced upon Lacessera and the daemons. Squealing in delight, Lacessera ran over to the closest enemy, who was still crawling out of the ground. Lacessera flaunted her flesh in front of the warrior, kneeling before the enemy, who was still half-buried, and leaning forward provocatively. She was purely irresistible.

The clawing, metallic hands groped forward, just as Lacessera expected. She squealed ecstatically at the roughness of the soldier's grip, enjoying the sensation of the cold metal. What she didn't expect was for the soldier to grip her fully, and slam her to the floor, before rising from the ground, and bringing a weapon to bear. Crying in fright, Lacessera saw that there was no escape. Suddenly, from deep within her bosom, she felt a warm, bubbly, melting sensation. The Breath of Chaos was bestowed upon her, and she writhed in pleasure for a fraction of a second. Instants after, she exhaled, a mighty, pink cloud of heady incense and powerful scent. The cloud hit the enemy warrior, who began to melt away as the warping gas ate away at the metal body.

The Necron, as Lacessera now realised it was, fell to the floor, bubbling into nothing. Even though it had no lust for her, Lacessera still felt a strong attraction to their strong, metal bodies, and took the head of the Necron warrior, kissing it, before throwing it back down onto the rest of its melting armour.

Turning to her mistress, Lacessera ran to the Keeper of Secrets, running under its legs to help fight. As Carassela destroyed the enemies in scores, Lacessera leapt out from the protective shadow of the Greater Daemon to attack the Necrons trying to sweep around behind or to the flank, using her new-found power before cutting the warriors apart. However, the scent proved to by her undoing. The musk that had surrounded her began to intoxicate Lacessera, firmly thrusting her into ecstatic joy. She ran to the nearest Necron warrior, and, instead of covering the machine in lustful breath, she instead began stabbing straight away, her bladed limbs no match for the unhindered metal armour. Finally, she gave in, and ran onto the warrior, pulling it to the floor, and devolving into orgasmic thrusts. The Necron was completely un-phased, and grabbed the writhing form of Lacessera, and began to fire gauss point-blank.

The weapon should've snapped Lacessera out of her reverie, but, instead, as a cause of the cloud of scent, it sent Lacessera further into her depraved pleasures, as she groped for the Necron and began kissing whatever she could reach. The Necron continued to swipe at her madly pulsing form. It seemed Lacessera was trapped.

Caught by her own pleasure, her only hope was some sort of intervention... something would have to save her.
 

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Gong'Alt had risen slowly from the corpse of the sister he had just killed. Shiny, metallic creatures clawed their ways forth from the ground, like the risen dead. Then, Gong'Alt's body rippled and seethed with power, an overwhelming sense of anger came over him, and his muscles popped out farther, like instant-inflating balloons. He roared with Khorne's fury and charged, lopping off the heads of rising machines with his Hellblade. He had never faced these enemies before, so he wouldn't know how to counter them once they rose from the ground.

The first of the machines had got to its feet, and Gong'Alt got a clear image of his new foe. Their heads resembled perfect, smooth skulls. Their backs are more protected than their fronts. They looked like hunched-over humanoids, with a body made of living metal. The most disturbing aspect, however, was the green light emerging from the eye-holes and their potent weapons.

Gong'Alt had not wished to witness the power of the weapon, so he charged, sword held high. The Necron attempted to counter his attack with the axe-like bayonet on its weapon, but Gong'Alt was too quick, and lopped off its head.

Looking around him, other warriors had risen from the ground, their weapons flaring. He ducked and dodged. He took cover behind a boulder, but soon realized tht the weaponry of the Necrontyr had disentegrated it, taking it down atom from atom. A sense of fear came over him - his armor would be useless! An enemy circled around and blasted, just as Gong'Alt leapt out of the way. He glanced right just in time to catch sight of yet another beam, and used his superior speed to roll out of the way. He regained his footing and gazed upon the advancing horde of shining warriors.

He was outnumbered and outgunned. He would be forced to charge at them, but they would just scythe him down in the flurry of gunfire. How couls Anon have let this happen!? Surely he should have been more prepared before he sent us to a Tombworld! He snarled at the machines who were slowly advancing, readying their weapons. Then, a voice entered his head; Whatsa matter? Scared? He screamed, wishing Tha'Aktos's voice away. He charged, screaming obscenities and curses, wishing the daemon was a Daemonette so that he could crush him easy. The forces backed up, expressionless, and fired. He dodged extremely quickly, ducking, then rising up to slash his blade clean through their solid metal bodies. "DIEEEEE!!!!" He charged again, cleaving through the ranks of Necrons. He lost track of time as the warriors succumbed to his brutal blows. His head swivelled savagely to meet his foe's position. It was Tha'Aktos, and he was scared! That pitiful fool! He lungeded towards his enemy and srceamed, "Hey, Tha'Aktos!? I'M COMING FOR YOU!" He charged with super-natural speed, and rose his Hellblade from beneath his crotch, cutting the red daemon in two. He screamed uncontrollably, and spat on the corpse. Looking closer, he noticed a slight glint of the sun, until the whole image came into view. It was a Necron.

He had killed them all. They look more powerful than they really are! Gong'Alt went on in bounding steps, towards a cliffside. He approached the edge and looked down, upon the giant metal structure. Gong'Alt epicly jumps onto the gargantuan form of a Monolith. All seems lost as the power engines warm up, and the Particle Whip begins to aim at the daemon. Suddenly, in an epic feat of epicness, the daemon plunges his hand into the core of the Particle Whip, turning it onto itself, and destroying the Monolith in a spectacular fashion, surfing the shock-wave along one of its gauss projectors, and landing neatly next to Anon.

Anon: That still only counts as one!

ooc: Sorry, I just had to do that... :(
 

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Oon'Nu watched with a slight frown as the ground heaved in torment, the cold metal figures of Necron's emerging, what an unexpected turn of events; and to top it all off it seemed that Anon had fled the field of battle, obviously seeking some other goal know that the Daemon cohorts would bear the brunt of the Necron retaliation.

His horde was many and each responded to the hunger pulsing within them and reached mindlessly for their metal foes, nails breaking on unyielding steel, they would do little but slow the Necrons, perhaps enabling other Daemons to destroy as many enemies as possible before his zombies all fell.

His blade cleaved through the arm of a Necron, the toxins immediately blighting the metal and spreading, sure the Necron was organic but his virulent diseases took to metal as if made for it.
A cry reached his shriveled ears and he paused to listen, ignoring a gauss round that punched through his stomach, an absent swipe dealing with the offending warrior, the shout had come from a Daemon, and by the tone of it said Daemon was actually a Daemonette. Now what sort of trouble could one of those get into against the unfeeling Necrons? Surely they weren't...aroused by the look of the Necrontyr, ugly lumps of metal that they were, Oon'Nu was oblivious to his own grotesque appearance.

Well, normally he would completely ignore the plight of those not of the Plague God but he believed that allies would be greatly needed in the coming hours, despite the strengthening darkness that engulfed the planet. As he approached Oon'Nu could not help but breath in the pink-tinged musk, his reaction was instantaneous, hacking and spluttering he doubled over and coughed up a thick wad of lung tissue, as he straightened and wiped away phlegmy spittle he grimaced; what a horribly pleasent smell.

His single milky eye blinked slowly as he made out the writhing form of the Slaaneshi Daemonette, terribly amusing spectacle though it was, now was not the time for standing around or allowing the frenzied Daemonette to perish while attempting to pleasure herself with a Necron warrior.
With a grim smile, he stepped forward, reached down and wrenched the Necron and Lacessera away from each other, the Necron immediately switched targets to him and the Oon'Nu tore it asunder, his palsied limbs fueled by the Unholy strength gifted to him earlier; he dropped the destroyed halves of the warrior, knowing it would not get up with extensive of damage done to it.

His one-eyed gaze turned to the Daemonette, as he spoke he fell into a fit of coughing. "You going to *hack* get moving or continue *kaff* hanging around the mindless ones?*wheeze*"
His own mindless horde had caught up with them and were becoming quite busy with hurling themselves bodil at the emerging Necrons.
 

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Lacessera dimly registered a Nurgle daemon ripping the Necron away from her, and destroying it. Suddenly noticing the daemon, as if for the first time, the pink musk again did its work. Instead of an oozing, slime-infested husk of a monster, Lacessera saw a muscled, masculine saviour, and immediately sprang to her feet. Lacessera leaned in, and gave the daemon a long, passionate kiss. She poured her affection into the kiss, squirming around the pus pouring out of the Nurgle daemon, and moving her arms up and down its disgusting body, like a woman possessed. After her mad kiss had ended, Lacessera stood back, just as a strong gust of wind blew her loincloth upwards, further revealing her already half-naked body.

However, the breeze also removed the musky scent, and Lacessera was soon returned to her normal state. Realising what it was that she had gorged herself upon, Lacessera immediately turned away, before leaning in and saying:

"Whilst you have my gratitude, if you speak of this again, I will slice you into little maggoty chunks, and subject you to the worst possible sexual torture you could possibly imagine. Worse than any of your plagues, or your diseases, worse than any wound or grievous injury, worse even than death itself. I will make you want me so badly that you kill yourself with anticipation. Do you understand me?" Lacessera whispered, coldly. Having said what she had to say, Lacessera leaned back, and ran back to her Carassela.

The Keeper of Secrets wondered what troubled Lacessera, but she only replied:

"Nothing. I bit off more than I could chew."
 

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"HAHAHAHAHA!!" the laughter of a small girl coming from the girth of Viralistopheles as he felt the raw nurgle power flowing through him. The furies felt it burn their hides and at first it is why he thought they fled, then he looked to anon and saw him fleeing.... and felt the tremors in the ground. "COWARD!" Viralistopheles called to Anon in a child's voice .

The Necrons were something Viralistopheles had only witnessed second hand before. But he knew they were exceedingly difficult to kill... Even now as he surveyed the battle commencing, his fellow daemons fell several of the Necrons and moved on to fight more, but Viralistopheles watched as many of the fallen rose again. Viralistopheles summoned his Plague Beasts he had been holding back to rally around him.... they took a few shots of the Necron weaponry, but Viralistopheles could tell they would not last long. Viralistopheles set them all in one direction, toward the center of the battle. He also saw that the Necrons felled by his beasts instantly tarnished and their bodies truly died, in his presence. It was his Aura of Decay.

As Viralistopheles moved he shouted to his fellow deamons in a childlike voice at first, "RALLY! RALLY!" then, getting frustrated at being ignored, his true daemon voice rose... Guttural, and deep. it shook the ground around Viralistopheles and Viralistopheles slamed his body into the ground for added effect. "RALLY RALLY TO NURGLE... OUR DECAY CAN PIN THEM AND CAUSE TRUE DEATH... RALLY RALLY TO NURGLE! "

Looking to Poxgiver, Viralistopheles sets up a defensive position, and uses his beasts to attack as many Necrons as he can.
 

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Just as Tha'Aktos slayed another sister, he saw Nikar fly off with a contemptious look on its misbegotten face. "Foolish reject, how could it possibly help to defeat me?" Just as two more sisters fell under his blades, he began to rise in the air. His veins began to fill with the holy power of the warp, his skin hardening as he rose. Then with all of a sudden, he slammed back in to the floor, the raw power of the fall shattering the bones of 3 sisters.

As he rose, he felt his now-rock solid skin. "I have been blessed..." Tha'Aktos realised. Screaming his thanks to Khorne, he charged through the remaining Sisters, as mysterious bodies rose from the ground.

"Necrons...?" Tha'Aktos loathed these creatures; their deaths had no effect on Khorne, every moment spent killing them was a waste of precious skull-collecting time. He had only fought them once before, and had since attempted to stay away from their presence, thinking them a waste of time.

He glanced over at Bonecrusher, who was already smashing his way through metal carapaces. What a glory it would be to defeat such a killing machine, Tha'Aktos thought. Khorne would surely reward him for defeating such a beast as Bonecrusher; much more so than killing these worthless Necrons...

The thought was pushed from his mind as he narrowly avoided a swing from some sort of weapon he did not recognise. Spinning on his feet, he slashed his hellblades through his assailants body. But before he could celebrate, a countless horde of rising metal came before his eyes. He would not win this fight, he knew.

He resolved that he would fight, but his main priority was to escape and seek more skulls for Khorne. Fighting Necrons has no point for a true servant of Khorne. Maybe that's why Gong'alt is getting so involved Tha'Aktos chuckled to himself. Killing another Necron before he could attach, he signalled for his cohort to fall back, killing any Necron they came across in the process.
 
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