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Made in gb
Fresh-Faced New User





Fruilia StarwWhisperer sat astride her jet bike and let the cool air of the Maiden world calm her.
She had led her warlocks into the inferno and they had passed through unhurt but had left the bodies of the interlopers in massive mounds.
Just as her runes had guided her.
Fruilia was a young Farseer, no more than a dozen millennia along the Path of a life time she had already learnt that for knowledge to be gained, risk had to be gambled.
Still today had been more about the annihilation of the rouge Mon-Keigh who had settled on this most sacred of Maiden Worlds. Her mentor had directed her to this place in an effort to test her awareness of detecting the Mon-Keigh and how they trod the spirit path. In truth she had found this task a difficult one, the warriors of the Mon-Keigh were a kin to bright flames on a dark night, each one a blazing twisting source of light that if centered on would blind her mind sight to their purpose. After only a days study of these Mon-keigh she had gained a head ache that even now pounded on her temples. They were flighty in thought and purpose, ranging from the now to the past and back to the far future in a single moment and seemingly unaware of their presence in the Void.
It was very confusing.
After much study she had aligned that the Mon-Keigh were actually warriors of their Corpse God but these warriors felt ill at ease with the usual gloom laden authority that came with his presence.
They were on the Maiden world as part of a recon mission to establish what had happened to an earlier "Ad Tech" research station. Fruilia had no idea who or what these "Ad Tech" were, only that some brief time before, perhaps two may be three centuries earlier her mentor had led the cleansing of this sacred place when more of the Corpse God's beguiled followers had made fool hardy plans on this world.
Stillness. Peace. Calm.
The thunder in her veins was quietening in the cool breeze, the rage in her heart had passed and was replaced by a sense of loss and fear at that loss. Involuntarily her gaze was drawn to the four fearsome Exarch's by her side.
These sad souls lost on the Path of the Warrior radiated an aura of fear and death. Most appalling to her senses was the dread figure dressed in the Aspect of the Striking Scorpion. The heavy plates of his dull green armour were splattered with Mon-Keigh blood, his twin chain sabers literally clogged with the meat of the dead. Even now in the calm after the storm he jinxed and skipped, dodging half remembered foe thrusts, his helm shifting from side to side looking for new threats and his hands seeking reassurance from his sabers handles.
The two blue hued warriors stood calmly by, discussing with hand gestures the destruction their warriors had caused on the Mon-keigh and how they had flown on the wings of the storm blade. Both of these noble figures saddens her heart fore they had checked on their wounded and fallen and blessed them and gathered their soul stones with such reverence. In her own mind she felt that they could have been saved from their fate of the Path of the Exarch, yet they had shown that in combat they relished the call so strong. It often surprised her that the path of the Avenger was viewed by so many as the least pulling of all the Warrior Paths. Yet it was often this Path that caught many a would be Autarch, the lure of the warrior in purest form. The pounding thrill of the hunt, the savage joy of the kill, the satisfaction of a well executed ambush and the tight safety of camaraderie were all so strong within it's temple - they relied on a warrior to be strong and skillful not reliant on anyone aspect of death and it's dealing and this ultimately was it's strange and deadly appeal.
Finally her gaze reluctantly fell upon the tall and impassive figure dressed all in black with skull and bone motif rested on his cannon. He had not moved since the four had gathered only to nod at some point made by one of the others. The Death Dealer if she was honest scared her the most of the Four, here was one who had embraced the darkest depths of his path and reveled in them. Even though two of his comrades were badly wounded where the structure that they were in had been crushed by the Mon-Keigh's mortars he and the remainder of his Temple had passed no comment on them. They had stood as still as wraithbone and continued to pour their merciless fire down onto the foe. Truly he was lost on the path of Khain and all the cold savagery that bespoke.
From her Ghost Helm she heard her mentor request a full update...she dreaded placing the warm helm back on, it had saved her twice today from the horrors of the Soul realm but this only reinforced her sense of inadequacy and immaturity in the heat of the great dance.
Still she knew her duty and with grim disregard her own feelings she drew the hated helm back on.
A few moments of disorientation and once again she felt as one with the Infinity Circuit. She felt as if she was swimming in clouds of pure thought beneath a rainbow hued star filled sky. She could feel a thousand conversations of the distant past echo through her and a thousand more pass her by. The thrum of the daily life of her blessed Craftworld throbbed gently around her, a spasm of love, a flicker of hate and a bitter sweet smell of freedom from the Terror. Like a rain of tears that freedom soaked through all the Craftworld, blessed to be free at last of the madness that was the Dark Realm they were now drifting aimlessly in the free stars. Stranded from purpose, truly many felt more lost now free than when they had been striving and fighting merely for survival.
"Focus" her mentors calm reproach settled her youthful wanderings.
She focused and allowed her mind to meld with his. There was no need for anything as crude as a battle report, with an open mind she could rely anything that was needed and this would be transmitted to those who were interested.
Flashes of memory,accurate to a detail that would have made a pict stealer shamed flashed through her and into her mentor. Each laced her with her own feelings and doused in her perception but accurate for a reader who can see beyond such petty details.
The terrible feeling of failure that initially had engulfed her when the Brother of the Scorpions had dismissed her request to support the centre and instead had disappeared into the mass jungle on the eastern flank. Though their heavy armour made no sound and they danced through leaf and branch maze leaving literally no trace of their passing. The image wavered and a sharp spike of relief tinged the next image, the noble Koilapeth Wavespliter bowing as the mighty Wraith Lord acknowledged his will to her request for him to hold the center. This was then engulfed in sadness and shame that her orders had left the mighty one crippled and in desperate need of respite among the nest of his wraithbone home.
"Stillness",this time she reproached her self, and a feeling of tender amusement came back from her mentor.
The Avengers had dutiful held their places and advanced in the face of overwhelming fire - they used the ruins of the original Mon-Keigh base well.
The Dark Reapers sat in the only still standing building and poured remorseless fire down onto the Altan'sar's foes. Even as a crude lob bomb exploded inside shattering the building and seriously wounding two of them the remainder just stood and carried on slaughtering the foe.
Her mind now raced again as she ordered her coven to up and over the large wall, their Jetbikes screaming in response. They spun on the spot and in a single mind pulse they poured their destructive mind fire down onto the fools who were hiding in the ruins in front of them. The screams were horrendous but two amazingly staggered to try and escape from the windows. Now her images were awash with fire and blood, they had raced round the building and her lover and left guard, Shalia Trueblood ripped the throat out of one with her witch blade. The second fell to her own blade and once again she felt the thrill of it filling her. From there they had danced through to the crude bomb lobbers. The two man crews had raced to defend their weapons but were no match for the fearsome coven.
"Calm." This time her mentor forced his will on hers, forcing her to refocus. She was too caught up with the heat of memory of that bloody hour.
Re focusing her minds eye she saw the scorpions moving stealthy through the forest parallel to the crude Mon-Keigh road. Suddenly they stopped and froze,literally a dozen paces away to metal walkers were scouting to the left of them. Each had a buzzing blade beneath the drivers open cabin and what looked like a large flamer unit primed. Both enemies stood in shock for a moment and the Scorpions reacted first. They spun and lept straight at the walkers and in a blaze of chopping and hacking reduced the pilots to meaty chunks. One sat screaming still, both his arms had been shawn off and plasma darts from the mandibalsters had blinded him. He was screaming into a com link in his barbaric howls. Shurjuin Shadowplayer, the Scorpion Exarch casually lept atop the walker and scanned ahead. The Mon-Keigh had a sizable force at the end of the road scanning for their walkers. With a delicate wave of his sabers he beheaded the remaining piolt to quiet his pathetic screams and with a mighty toss threw it direct at the troopers. It landed short but it got their attention. As one they stepped back and sprayed their crude ls fire into the under growth, the shots were well wide and far short but now Shadowplayer knew how many there were and what they were equipped with. He laughed at them mockingly and danced back into the undergrowth...tempting the impetuous Mo-Keigh to follow. Like the predictable followers of fate they were they did so. Crashing into the undergrowth the chased shadows, screaming pointless and meaningless insults at the dark. Shadowplayer watched them from the darkness and when they were close he lept. His scorpions crashed into nearly three times there number but with in a heart beat a third were dead. By the time the others had realised what had hit them another hand full were dead. Those remaining fought with the tenacity of beasts trapped and began to take down shadowplayers brethren, but only at the cost of two of them for every one of his warriors. Still it was too high a price to pay yet lost in the whirling death that was his Path it was paid willingly.
In the center the Avengers moved with noble grace till in range, a few pot shots from the Mon-Keigh embedded heavy weapons team ripped a few apart, reserve forces appeared before them but Ashruims brothers simply mowed them all down. Then without fear or pause they rode the blade storm and charged the bunker, to find only a single Mon-Keigh remaining...who was smashed down.
On her request the warpspiders warped in, but not where she directed them and they were left caught between three squads of Mon-Keigh. Though there web spinners slew what she know knew to be the Mon-Keigh commander and his household retinue the spiders were in turn smashed apart by the combined fire power of the Mon-keighs simple yet deadly firepower.
In revenge she directed the Dark Reapers to target their slayers, under the directed gaze of that fearsome helm they extracted complete revenge,slaughtering the second reserves to appear. More of the metal walkers appeared and though slowed by the Mighty One he was crippled by the complete firepower of the Mon-keighs crude plasma technology. Though it seemed that every cannon and shot in the Monk-eigh force was aimed at him it was only at the last did he fall. The deep regret she fell as this warrior fell was tinged with pride at his resilience and the fact that it bought time for all.
The metal walkers charged the second Avenger squad and terrible dance of despair began. The metal hide of the walker was impervious to the avengers who were too close to use their catapults and they in turn were too agile and skillful for the clumsy blade to catch them.
Again the image was drowned in the booming of the blood in her ears - more reserves of the Monk-eigh charged her Coven while they were dispatching the lobbers. These though died like the vermin they were kept the coven from rushing to the Avengers aid. The battle looked though to be won.
With a despairing cry the last of the reserves fell under the blades of the coven and the others died under the power of the reaper and his launchers.
The walkers seeing that they were alone tried to break away and flee, only for the dancing Avengers to leap into formation and hoze the pilots apart.
It was a terrible massacre for the Corpse God's minions.
It was a terrible lesson taught and a terrible lesson learnt - to wield the power of the Temples was to weild death itself, but what wounds you could inflict you must prepare to receive upon your soul.
   
Made in us
Cackling Daemonic Dreadnought of Tzeentch




Ellenton, Florida

Fun stuff.

You might want to have it moved to the Dakka Fiction forum though.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2016/11/19 00:13:03


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