Hellacious Havoc
|
Inside the dark cargo holds the visor slit of a dreadnought sparked to life, cutting through the darkness with a piercing blue light. Kurshid looked around the room, rotation on his waist axis as best he could with the chains around him. To his direct left stood the bane of all life, Blood-sergeant Akram, his toothed vox-grille locked in a permanent snarl.
+’Blood-Sergeant where are the awoken.’+ –Kurshid said although, He didn't speak with his own voice but rather with the vox of his dreadnought body, which rang out like thunder. He was revered unto his brothers, a glorious hero of the Great War. Unlike most dreadnoughts, Kurshid held a tenuous grip on his sanity. Although he too was victim to the Prospero rage that plagued the awoken.
Silence took hold.
Then Arkam started his blood boiling screams.
‘BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!’ Arkam was as loyal as a dog, and vicious as a wolf, known by his brothers as the World Eater in a Thousand sons body. His secondment had taken place with the World Eater’s Legion and, to the horror of his brothers in the Thousand Sons, he had undergone the psycho-surgery. He’d even attempted to bring back the practice to the Thousand Sons but with little success. The Thousand Sons considered themselves a Legion of scholars, and none were willing to stoop to the World Eaters' level.
+‘Well how many are there Arkam?’+
‘A Thousand Skulls to be taken! A Thousand sons to be slaughtered! The Wolves have come!.’ The Blood-sergeant was in the grasp of the Prospero rage, or at least some fragment of it. As he believed he had just arrived back from his secondment with the World Eaters and the Space Wolves were attacking Prospero.
+’BLOOD-SERGEANT ARKAM!’+ The Blood-sergeant was rocking back and forth on his restraints, he was muttering to himself when Kurshid had yelled. His vox-horn was amplifying the strength of his voice ten times when he spoke.
‘You too would turn your back on the blood feast eh old Kurshid? You’re a dog. Die like one.’ The words spilled out like a destroyer plague would and hung in the air as a cold and festering wound that had bored itself deep into Kurshid’s pride. Biting back his immense rage, Kurshid spoke with clarity.
+’Blood-sergeant we are in a situation.’+
‘A situation?’ –said Arkam, as if totally perplexed by the word and its meaning.
+Ten-thousand years have passed, and we no longer are bound to the fetters of the Imperium, we are pariahs. Yet more currently we are captives of our used to be brothers.’+
‘They’ve imprisoned us?’ Arkam asked in a high voice, he was getting antsy and moved about uneasily in his chains as if confused by this turn of events. He tugged at the chains, yelping like a trapped animal.
+’Yes Blood-sergeant, like degenerate mongrels. I heard Kalophis himself ordered it.’+ Kurshid knew he was lying but whatever it took to coax such a powerful warrior to the side of the witch-flayer.
‘I will bleed them like pigs! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE’ Arkam’s voice was in a total roar, spewing venom in his words every chance he received.
+’Good, good, we’ll need your mind set. Are there any others like you Arkam?’+
‘Like me?’
+’Blood-brothers’+ the whirring crank and hiss of metal pistons seemed to bring life the holds.
The Blood-sergeant looked to his restraints and tore himself free one limb at a time. The feeling of freedom to pursue bloodshed in however many ways he wanted was too much to resist, he loped off into the shadows screaming praises to Khorne. Oh great… thought Kurshid. I’ve lost my one chance.
A short hour passed and Arkam came back with a pack of Blood-brothers, including him there were thirty-two. Kurshid was extremely baffled as to how many Blood-brothers had existed in their midst without anyone knowing. They all carried monstrous war axes that stood their height and were yearning for blood to be spilt.
‘Marred by our past, rejected by our kin, accepted by the Blood God. May the blood ever flow, and let it not be your blood Kurshid.’ –Arkam was speaking in a raspy voice, his fist balling up as he clenched his fists tightly around his war axe. He looked up at the dreadnaught and sanguine blood began pouring from the joints of his ancient power armour, coating his white battle plate in a red deluge of ichor.
‘Whom do we serve!’ Shouted Arkam
‘None but the Blood God!’ came the reply from the Blood-brothers.
‘Whom do we slay!’ Shouted Arkam
‘All but the Blood-King’ cried the crowd. They all were panting like hungry mutts, and loping about the holds as if they had scent of blood.
‘Who is the Blood-King, Kurshid?’ Arkam was raising his axe and rapping it against the adamantium hull of the Dreadnaught. Hurrying to find a suitable answer, Kurshid shouted out a name and the Blood-brothers stopped in their tracks, silent.
‘What did you say Kurshid?’ –Arkam was looking up with confusion as if the name made no sense. ‘witch-flayer? What is a witch-flayer, and why is he our Blood-King.’
+’He slayed the first witches with his our fists and tore free their heads drinking deep their blood! Oh yes, such is the power of the witch-flayer that he struck down an entire planet in a day, feasting on their blood.’+
The Blood-brothers seemed to ponder on it for a moment, and Arkam was trying profusely to process such high intakes of thought and he shut down, reverting back to his aggression.
‘NO! NO! You call him witch-flayer, how do we know he is not a witch himself!’ A couple others shouted their agreement by rapping their war axes against their own chests. They were growing out of control when Kurshid lifted his seismic hammer and slammed it down, sending a destructive pulse throughout the entire ship. This sent the Blood-brothers flying and many crashed into each other and fell to the floor in a crumpled mess.
+’He is what I say he is! Now stand down, Blood-sergeant Arkam!’+
Arkam slowly stood, grabbing up his war axe.
‘Fine, what does the witch-flayer command us.’
+’We are to free everyone and meet him at the Dread Clouds. NOW MOVE!’+
As’Gra’Xrx’Thrax stood at the meeting ceremony between the warlords. There were eight in all, Halza of the World Eaters, Laedin of the Scourged, Hadir of the Warp Ghosts, Sceter of the Black Dragons, A mysterious figure in all white who called himself the Instigator, another mysterious figure who only said he represented the Night Lords, Captain Reyes of the Crimson Swords, and Yorin of the Black Legion. All the warlords had agreed to meet on the terms of peace, that, however is a chaos space marine term of peace where the slightest insult could lead to blood bathes and millennia of following hatred. They stood in a large steel room where the wind could not batter them, all of them were not entirely trusting of one another as was the way of the traitor.
Maken was last to enter, the doors pressure locks hissed as they opened and creaked as they closed.
‘Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend me your swords.’ –said Maken, trying to make a quip out of a saying from an old terran Emperor.
‘Yorin, how fares the Black Legion in Cadia?’ –he continued, trying to make small talk to a gigantic figure who seemed not interested but replied for the hell of it. His stony face and sharp features resembled Horus almost.
‘We’re not in Cadia, Maken; we are the 14th company of the Despoilers vast forces. If your Lord Halza wishes to know of Cadia, I could arrange for you to join me and accompany me to Cadia when we are called for battle.’ Yorin was straight to the point and was as cold as Fenris in his rebuttal. Laughs went around the table, except for Yorin and The instigator, who for reasons unknown were silent, brooding almost.
‘Come sit, all of you.’ Maken had been eyeing up As’Gra’Xrx’Thrax the since he walked in. ‘Now as you know, the refineries you sit on are sole property of Lord Halza, and in his generosity has allowed you all your lives’ but in return asks only for a tribute of blood.’
'Easy enough, I’ll have slaves dropped off to your slaughter-refineries.’ –said Sceter ‘As long as the Black Legion gives me a suit of tactical dreadnaught armour. Or the warp ghosts follow up on their debt to me and assimilate.’
‘What makes you think I’d give a suit of anything!’ –Yorin growled slamming his monstrous terminator fist onto a table.
‘The warp ghosts simply need fuel we have the tribute for Lord Halza, & to Sceter no warp ghost would ever serve a half breed like you.’ –said Hadir baring his teeth, his muscles pulled taut by the deep scowl he had on. Laedin broke the silence with the beginnings to the negotiations.
‘I am Laedin of The Scourged, and I desire to go to the Maelstrom and enact vengeance upon Lord Huron, yet we need more numbers if we are to attack such a target. I propose to you Lord Arash that you help us, and we shall follow with you for five campaigns or until you see fit.’
‘I will consider your offer Laedin, and…’ Lord Arash was cut off by Maken before the words managed to fill the air.
‘NO. There will be no considering until a tribute is paid.’ Maken was foaming at the mouth as he roared at Lord Haurvatat.
‘Very well Maken, how does a ship sound to you? A simple freighter but a ship no less.’ –Haurvatat was quick to offer up the ship when Maken became angry for he knew of the World Eaters infamy for being bad hosts.
‘A ship, ehh… we need those.’ –said Maken.
‘So it’s done, we’ll give you the ship, now may I consider the offer of Lord Laedin?’
‘Do it, I care not.’ –said Maken.
‘Lord Laedin, the Dark Legion shall accompany you, and in return you shall be contracted to us for ten campaigns or as long as I see fit.’ Laedin grumbled when the parameters of the deal changed. Yet begrudgingly he agreed to the terms of Lord Arash in order to further his own goals.
‘Lord Hadir, you will serve me, or I’ll have your head on a pretty little stick above my trophy rack.’ –said Sceter, he pressed the activation rune
on his power lance and addressed Hadir personally. ‘Hadir, I give you one last chance to pay your debts or duel me to the death. The victor shall hold both war bands as their own.’
‘Damn you Sceter, we duel at high moon than, if that’s what you want.’ –Hadir was infuriated at the challenge.
‘Yorin, I’d like to ask the Great Black Legion to lend our petty warband the aid of you. We have found a vast Munitorum fleet that is carrying the supplies for something big, and trust me on my blood oath this is not a small run. We’d need a vast fleet, at least three battle ships, and multitudinous hosts of escorts and war ships. We ask of the Black Legion, and of you to join us in our strike against the Imperium.’ –Captain Reyes was an impassioned speaker and managed to draw the attention of all the warlords to his offer. For not only was his deal a promise of great riches to any who assisted them in their plight.
‘Reyes, I will consider your offer, and to Lord Halza I pay the tribute of ten thousand skulls.’ –Yorin stood, making a sweeping gesture as if to
proclaim some sense of power. His massive terminator bulk stood up and breathed in slowly assessing the other Lords as both allies, and bitter enemies. ‘I accept.’ He said and began walking out when the Daemon prince stood and walked in front of the exit, barring the way with his immense bulk.
‘Black Legion… has many in their numbers no?’ the Daemon prince was putting a single clawed hand over Yorin’s shoulder plate grating his claws against it like nails on a chalkboard. Yorin felt no fear, but was put on edge by As’Gra’Xrx’Thrax.
‘I.. am in charge of the entire 14th company, we are two-thousand strong, with a host of 30,000 slaves to attend the fleet, and 10,000 renegade militia.’
‘Ahh, a large army you command Brother Yorin. Tell me, have you ever died?’ The daemon prince grasped Yorin in a vice grip and slammed
him against the wall. ‘Well have you?’
Yorin was stammering and ordering others to help him, not even his own bodyguards would answer his pleas. As’Gra’Xrx’Thrax took Yorin hoisted him in the air and brought the Terminator crashing down over his knee, and snapped his back. Tearing free the head of Yorin, the Daemon prince held it aloft for all the lords to see claiming his divine right over the dead Yorin’s war host.
‘In the eyes of the Gods I claim the 14th company of the Despoilers vast forces as my own, and I shall lead them in the service of Lord Arash, whom denies my claim to this?’ None of the Lords spoke, but turned down their heads instead. All but Lord Arash, who was smiling at his sons’ accomplishment, he stood and said a toast to his fellow Lords
‘One Legion waxes, and another wanes, to brotherhood! Reyes, the Dark Legion shall take you on your contract also.’ -Lord Arash said, smiling at this turn of events
‘Very well Lord Arash, we should leave soon though.’ –Captain Reyes stood and held an outstretched hand to Lord Arash, who in turn grasped it and with a smile bid each other a good luck.
‘Wait, there is a blood duel to be settled between Hadir, and Sceter.’ –said The Instigator who had not spoken since the arrival of the negotiations which began at morning and it was dusk. He stood placing his bolter on the table and asked again. 'Honor demands it.'
‘Damn the Blood Duel! We have a schedule and although you may not know of the machinations of a raid, we do. So we must go.’ –said Captain Reyes.
‘Perhaps Lord Arash would like to know of five Cataphractii rubrics that talked, meeting with Maken and Lord Halza earlier.’ –said the Night Lord.
Maken and Lord Halza stood at the same time, looking directly at the Night Lord. Both pressed the activation runes of their twin Power Axes.
‘Ush tarkud najh lador!’ Shouted Lord Halza as he drew a cutthroat sign across his neck and baring his teeth at the Night Lord who was
adjacent to him. Maken was trying to translate Lord Halza but found himself in the grasp of the rage.
‘He…. Lies..’ The only words he managed to drawl in his discordant roar.
Lord Arash was greatly vexed and his fists were balled tightly, he slowly drew his Daemon Blade that was gifted to him from the Architect of fate, and asked a simple question to Laedin.
‘You hear every lie spoken, so tell me Lord Laedin. Did the Night Lord see five talking Cataphractii Rubrics?’
Lord Laedin steadily lifted his staff, sighing he put his helmet on and spoke two words.
‘Kill them.’
|
Dark Legion/The Awoken (Renegade Space Marines) 12,000 + points
We have awoken, and all is dust! 
