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{I'm not sure where you were in the first place Mordo, but I don't think you've moved very far...If you want a suggestion, have your men attack the other side of the post, we can meet in the middle if you wish}

As the men moved out, Harlow jumped up on the cabin , getting into a prone position and setting up his rifle. He scanned the targets he could see. Over the backs of Warrender's men, he could see not one target, oh well, they should be able to take care of the bunker then.

'Looks like the stories will have to wait, there's a job to do."

Harlow scanned back towards the front gate, he could make out many defenses hidden amongst the walls and towers. Oh, the Karukians were going to get slaughtered if they didn't do something. Harlow leaned towards Joryn.

"Sir, if Borek is going to break down the door, we're going to have to levy some heavy fire on the gate!"

Harlow lined his piece back up, taking steady aim, breathing slowly, bang, a machine gunner quite literally lost his head.

another breath, bang, a rebel with a rocket tube fell backwards.

another breath, bang, an officer who stuck his head out a little too far. Harlow smiled, he'd found his shooting groove

then a round bounced of the armor plating of the Griffon, just in front of Harlow. It startled him, to say the least, he jumped down, off the Griffon, taking cover in the tall grass. He had to think quickly Another loud shot rang out, a Karukian fell. Harlow crawled forward as another Karukian bit the dust and the feudal men finally got the hint and took cover. Harlow saw a flash of a scope's glass in the distance, the enemy sniper had taken position on a guard tower, too easy, and sloppy, the man wasn't even looking in Harlow's direction, he must have thought Harlow had been hit and rolled off the Griffon.

Well he was about to pay for that little mistake. Harlow aimed his rifle at the man, adjusted for wind and distance, breathed slowly, and with a slight feathery squeeze of the trigger he took out the enemy sharpshooter with one well place shot, watched the blood spurt out of his severed jugular and slump back.

Harlow smiled and jumped back on the Griffon, he looked down at Joryn who was looking a little bewildered at Harlow's sudden disappearing and reappearing act.

"Got him." Harlow said cheerily with a grin and a slight thumbs up sign.

Covering the advance of the Karukians came the forces of the Lorian Praetorian Guard, firing their lasguns at the rebel troops, the high powered rounds tearing limbs from torsos, and heads from necks. For weeks, the Lorians had been engaged in brutal trench warfare with the natives, loosing thousands of lives in the process. After several weeks, their vox lines whent silent, leading Imperial Command to believe them lost. It was not so, however. Genewhip Rudiger and the rest of the Lorians had stormed the rebel command post, killing the rebel Captain, and leading to a Loyalist victory. Capturing several enemy vehicles, the Lorians now rolled up the embankment within repainted Chimeras, their multi-lasers spitting out bolts of searing light as they advanced. Foot troops raced along the sides of the trundling vessels, firing their lasguns as they charged. Leman Russ Demolishers fired their cannons at the Front Gate, pulverizing the structure, and allowing the soldiers of the Praetorian Guard to stream inside, firing into the mass of rebel troopers.

{You might want to specify exactly how many troops you have at your disposal, Mordo, taht way the GM and everyone else can plan accordingly

And just so I know, what is a genewhip? }

Harlow saw through his scope the columns of army troops coming up the hill and his jaw went slack. Where and how had an entire regiment just popped up out of nowhere? Without looking away he stuttered

"Sir? Are you seeing this?" He called to Joryn.

"Borek, your men will attack the front immediately."

The Captain's fateful words still rang in Borek's ears as he assembled his men in the ditch, just out of sight from outpost. Emperor, he wished Barbarossa was here now, the old veteran was always handy in a fight. Borek's heavy breathing was masked by his chainmail faceguard, but it was hard to hide the slight tremble in his right hand. By the Seven Circles, Borek thought as he peered over thr ridge, they were going to be mowed down if they ran headlong up that hill. There were several boulders which would provide ample cover that dotted the landscape around the base of the hill but beyond that there was a full twenty or thirty paces of a steep, gruelling uphill climb with absolutely no cover. And Emperor knew how his men were expected to take down the gate.

"Damn it all!" Borek spat, drawing his sabre and nervously running his thumb along it, accidentally drawing blood. "Ah, piss!" Borek cursed at the cut.
He walked down the line of men, passingly inspecting their equipment andspeaking with them. A look in the eye, a pat on the shoulder, the promises of women and glory beyond the rise. Barfada, Benji, Morek, Jasar...Perhaps they were all commoners, but Borek knew all their names and he'd be damned if he ever forgot them. Damned. Helmsman Vesk said something that made the others laugh. Borek hadn't caught it but he laughed all the same. They all did, that mad, desperate laugh of soldier's before the frenzy. Laugh with the man next to you now, Terra knows it's likely to be the last time.

Well, enough procrastinating.

"Karukians! The others will provide covering fire while we have the honour of leading the first charge. Do not fear death," at this Borek grinned at his hypocrisy "The Garden of Felsheba awaits the strong of heart, and of loin." Borek added with a grin as me made a quick rutting motion, evoking a racious guffaw from the men.

"But look for an easy way out just yet, we're soldiers in the Great Crusade of Man, and we've got a job to do. The Maidens of Felsheba can wait until they're good and ready. But they want a strong man knocking at their door, not some weakling that laid down and died to the first volley." Borek raised his sabre, behind him the sound of a score of others being drawn echoed. Climbing the ridge, in full view of the enemy outpost, he turned and said, cackling madly like a Karukian Viperwolf, "See you at the gates, boys!"

Warrender grinned as he and his men raced up the track towards the Command bunker. As they reached the crest of the path he could see the target just ahead as the path continued onward and sloped down giving the watchmen inside the bunker a clear view of anyone approaching from the east west or north. Although there was a blind spot from the south this was covered by Complex itself.

The Bunker itself was a small affair, its main windows giving a clear view east, west and north while the south side of the bunker was embedded into the hillside with presumably a tunnel that would link the bunker to the main base. There was no doubt in his mind that the only option was a direct assualt in the open as a covert attack was simply impossible

Warrender held his cap between finger and thumb to tilt it into a better position "Let's go to work boys, we need to get those gates open before our forces get chewed up"

Branson grinned wide, needing no further prompting he stood up to full height, Heavy Stubber in hand and braced he let rip into the bunker as he strode ponderously towards the building. Glass smashed and several bodies flew back onto the floor as the men inside the bunker gathered themselves.

Lukas went prone on the crest of the path, taking sniper shots as targets presented themselves between his comrads. Warrender buried his apprehension of the rookie firing past him and chose to believe he could be trusted to not miss his targets as he ran down the open path lasgun in hand followed by Marcus and Jerrico with autoguns as they unleashed shots into the other side of the bunker.

The defenders had started to rally themselves and returned fire as the three men charged their positions followed by the heavy weapons soldier ponderously walking down the path blowing holes into the door and windows. As Warrender, Jerrico and Marcus ran down the path, shots whistled past them. suddenly Jerrico shot backward, his momentum carrying him forward as he landed on his back heavily, coughing and spluttering with his hand clutching his throat as a mass of red liquid poured from it.

Still charging Warrender glanced back for a split second, his eyes filled with rage at one of his own being downed. As his lasgun ripped into the bunker while firing from the hip he reached down and unclipped a stun grenade from his belt. Even in anger he knew he couldn't use a frag grenade and risk damaging the equipment.

With unprecidented aim he threw the grenade through one of the many shattered windows as he and Marcus dived and turned, landing with their backs against the bunker walls under the windows. A bright flash that they could see even from outside the bunker followed by an ear splitting sound. As if on que, both men stood, seeing soldiers blinded and staggering, firing blindly around the room and ended up killing one man and shooting two others in the foot and leg.Warrender and Marcus unleashed their weapons on the remain soldiers as a few went flying as sniper shots found a home between their eyes.

The bunker quickly fell silent and Warrender turned to Marcus as he raced back to Jerrico "Get those gates open!!!" Marcus nodded and started to climb through the window as Branson reached the shot ridden door and booted it open hard and strolled inside still carrying the Heavy Stubber.

As Warrender reached the still spluttering Jerrico he was joined by Lukas who had ran down the hill already pulling out his Medikit. They tried for several minutes to stem the bleeding, but with the wounds so severe in his neck there was nothing they could do for him. A knowing look from Warrender and Lukas understood, reaching into his medic bag and injecting him with a sirum to ease the pain as his life slipped away. As he head tilted, Warrender leaned over to close his eyes. "Poor kid" was all he could manage to say.

Meanwhile inside the bunker, Marcus had removed the key from the Sargeants neck chain and pressed the key into the command console, twisting the key and depressing the buttons. Lifting his comms unit he spoke "This is Marcus to Joryn, Gates are now opening and you are free to proceed. We have in our possession a tunnell that leads inside the complex ... your orders?" But as he spoke he heard a creek, turning behind him in time to see the back of Branson disappearing through the door and into the tunnel. "Damn idiot!" he muttered under his breath and pointed his rifle at the door just in case someone was to come through.

"Faugh Ballavaaaaahhhh!" Borek screamed the Voldersun warcry 'Clear the Way', his own call followed by the score of Karukians that raced up the hill behind him. Any second now the guards would open fire, cutting them down like wheat. Borek could feel it, the chill of death on the wind, every heavy breath could be his last. Closer the Karukians came, and they heard the shots, but nothing fired upon them.
Borek was only a few strides from the gate now, and he had damned all idea what he would do when he got there. Just as he reached it it started to creak open, a massive man wielding a heavy stubber standing there in the open. Borek's searing lungs sucked in another deep gulp of air.


"Faaaugh Ballavaaaaaahh!" he screamed again, colliding with the massive figure, tumbling the giant over. Scrambling off the man's chest, Borek kicked the stubber out of his hands and slammed his knee against his throat before the man could finish whatever it was he was about to say. Borek raised his sabre, ready to stab down in the soft eye, when Branson gasped "Negh Elixargh!" Borek froze, then burst into manical laughter. 'New Elixir' was the Imperial callsign for friendly. It was only now that Borek recognised the big man as one of Warrender's. Laughing, he called the other Karukian's off.

"New Elixir!" he laughed. "Warrender ava ment bar lona gravita!" he spoke in Karukian, 'Warrender and his men have bled the enemy already!'.

He laughed again, relieved beyond belief, his right hand still shaking.

They had lied! Every damn one of them! There was nothing here. He had risked every bit of his life in coming here, and he had nothing to show for it. Not a single thing.

The dreams, those damnable dreams, had led him to Kell's Reach. They had led him through back alley after back alley, from dark doorway to dark doorway, from one building to the next. He had slit throat after throat to remain hidden. But all for what?

All of it had been to get here. Here in this building. Here in that bulding's cellar. Here in that hidden passage behind the shelves. He wasn't controlling himself anymore. The dreams were, or whatever fueled them.

They had come out of his sleep to become a plague on every second of his life. He saw things that weren't there, heard terrible noises with no origin. He felt emotions so strong they over-powered even his other strained senses.

He glimpsed the birth of a God.

It had been slow in coming at first. The Kaelor had turned from their hedonistic ways at the behest of the wise individuals and their tales of doom for the Eldar. Gra'ff'en hadn't believed a word of it. When the Kaelor had begun crafting their world of steel he had left, so many years ago now. He had continued living the way he always had. In excess.

He was paying for that now. Something was taking over his mind, and it was far too late to change it. The dreams had engulfed his soul.

And they led him here.

To nothing.

Gra'ff'en flew into a rage. He overturned tables, desks, chests, and shelves. He broke anything he could get his hands on. He smashed and kicked and punched. He cursed anything he could think of as the pain, the betrayel, the lonliness of every act swirled inside his head. His soul cried out for rest... and was answered by the God. With every smash, with every punch, and with every act of destruction Gra'ff'en committed there in that small underground room, his soul sank deeper and deeper into emotion, until finally it drowned.

Eventually his breath failed him and he sank against a wall. He looked with new eyes at his bloody hands, the way his cloak fell across he feet. He looked to his rifle, leaning as it was against the doorway. He stood and took three long and purposeful strides towards it.

That was when he saw the map. Tucked inside a broken cask was a picture that captivated whatever it was that Gra'ff'en's body was now a vessel for. The artifact. The goal that this being had searched for for so long. And there, on the map, was circled a single little dot. Post 4281.C

[I'll expound more on all this later, but for now this will have to do. ]

@Cypher: So you are actually in Kell's reach now? Just so I get my bearings on Barbarossa.

{Bit of plot confusion, hey? Unless anyone objects, I'll have the Praetorians storm the rear wall as originally planned so as not to waste EF and HellsGuardian's efforts. Also, my apologies for incorrectly referring to the Griffon as being based on the Chimera chassis; I promise not to turn into CS Goto.}

"Roger that; advance with extreme caution.", Joryn said as the gates to the complex ground open. "Harlow, get on that multilaser stubber!" He wrenched both throttles forward and the Land Raider Griffon's engine roared as it sped up the incline towards the main gate, the stubber spitting death at any who dared show themselves in the gateway. The Karukians cheered and ran after the tracked vehicle as it cleared the gates, its bulk providing them with mobile cover as they advanced. The Brigantian-held HQ was now clearly visible, as were the remaining rebels.

There was a resounding boom as a Demolisher shell grazed one of the building's exterior supports, causing its western wall to collapse. Those who had been defending the structure's exterior had begun retreating southward, where the clatter of treads and bark of heavy bolter fire could be heard. Captain Cepheus snatched up his comm-set. "Warrender! Cepheus here. Pull out of those tunnels immediately! Collapse may be imminent." Swearing profusely, he dragged himself out of the driver's compartment and re-tuned the set. "Advancing Imperial forces! Cease all ordnance use at once if any of you value your damned commissions. Authorization code 8077-c." He shook his head as he looked at the command post, now liable to collapse upon itself at any minute. "Borek!", he called. "Secure the area!" He dashed into the command post, hoping he was not too late.

Owain wrote:. "Harlow, get on that multilaser stubber!" He wrenched both throttles forward and the Land Raider Griffon's engine roared as it sped up the incline towards the main gate, the stubber spitting death at any who dared show themselves in the gateway.

{I see what you did there}


{I saw it from space. }

Morek fell backwards into the rushing crowd of Karukians, catching a glimpse of his own skull blown sideways before his before dying. Jasar, covered in Morek's brain fluid, retched violently, his sick forming a pool in the tracks left behind by the Griffon. A group of Bragantine rebels, 6 or 7 of them, had been cut off from the southern remnants and now sheltered behind hastily erected barricades and sandbags. They had started to fire on the Griffon and, more worringly to Borek, the Karukians sheltering behind them. Harlow spotted this, his heavy stubber ceased cutting down the fleeing Brigantines still caught in the open to the closer threat, killing one and pinning the others.

The Griffon trundled on, Borek could hear the Captain shouting at someone through the vox but what he was saying was drowned out by the Karukians cheer as the Griffon advanced. "Faugh Ballavagh! Faugh Ballavagh! Faugh Ballavagh!" Borek hadn't felt like this, hadn't felt this primal sense of prupose and superiorty since they had stormed the Keep of the Fanderra family before he had answered the Crusade's call. It was now that he hated the Brigantines, a deep seeded hatred. Not becuase of their ideals, not becuase they resisted the Crusade, not becuase he had fought them before, but simply becuase the bastards stood in his way now.

"Karukians! Pickara genda faus!" he cried, 'Karukians! Cut the pigs down!'.

Charging around the Griffon, followed by his armsmen, Borek bellowed at the pinned Brigantines. One of them peered over the sandbag, raising his autogun, only to have Borek empty his own autogun clip, point blank, into the unfortunate Brigantine's face. Dropping the autogun, Borek dodged the swing of a whirring chainsword from a sergeant, before dealing a solid blow from his metal guantlet to the man's rib. Hearing a crack or two the man slumped to one knee, allowing Borek to tackle another Brigantine to the floor while Barfada slid his sabre through the pinned Brigantine's armpit.

Turning, Borek saw the sergeant beat off another Karukian, Jeffrey, before dissembowling him on his chainsword. Spotting Borek, the grizzled veteran came at him again with the chainsword. In another time, a less fuelled moment, Borek would have been forced to admire the man's sheer grit. It this moment of madness though there could be no respect. Before the Brigantine sergeant could cut down with chainsword Borek's sabre whipped out, slicing away half the man's wrist. Letting out a bellow of pain, the sergeant dropped his gaurd and sank. Borek, without mercy, snarled as he kneed the man in his broken rib, causing the sergeant to hack and cough as the air was driven out of him, still trying to wield the chainsword with his one good hand. The Brigantine's struggle was cut short with sickening, squelching crunch as Borek's sabre wedged itself deep in the man's skull.

Eyes wild, Borek looked up from his kill and screamed "Faugh Ballavaaaggghh!!!"

Harlow had never fired a stubber before, his specialization prevented him from ever being assigned to one, but needs must, and he was a natural. Using short bursts of automatic fire, Harlow made the Brigantine's pay for their bewilderment, many saw the Griffon, painted in their own colors and became confused, stuck to the spot. Harlow grinned as the rebels fell in front of him, chopped to little bits by the fire. The trail of bullets stitched a trail into dirt as it chased rebels back and forth, knocking many off their feet. The rebels frantically dove for cover, their line broken by Harlow's fire, coupled with the Karukians charge. Dozens of rebels were torn to a bloody pulp, now, with most of the officers dead, The rebels were beginning to break and run.

Harlow saw this, but more importantly he could see over the crest of the slope a second imperial line firing up towards him and the Karukians right at the rebels, the problem was, that some of that fire was coming too close for comfort. Harlow heard Cephus calling for the other Imperials to cease fire or at least get a better fix on their targets. Thinking fast, Harlow dropped back into the cabin and looked at the mortar, he wasn't relishing using it but fortunately this one had been simplified for the rebel conscript's use. Harlow began dropping bombs down the tube until he had fired about a dozen rounds down range at the fleeing rebels.

Popping up, Harlow surveyed his work, he smiled, the fire wasn't accurate but Harlow had had some hits and now the rebels were scattered within the compound, they were frantic and confused, they had just won this patch of dirt and now it was under assault from both sides.

Harlow jumped down from the Griffon and saw the fighting that was still happening around him, the Karukians were going toe to toe with the die hard rebels that were left and wouldn't back down, Harlow saw some Karukians being disemboweled but this was a small percentage compared to the amount of rebels getting stuck.

Harlow's eyes found the Karukian leader, shouting, waving his sabre, apparently trying to rally his troops.

But Harlow saw what the man didn't see, rushing up behind him was a rebel soldier, an autogun with a bayonet attached in his hands, rushing straight in to impale the feudal soldier. Harlow shouted a warning but to no avail, his hand quickly found his long dagger, the silver blade glimmering in the light. He flipped the dagger around until its blade was held in between his fingers and then with a flick of the wrist and a shove of the arm, the dagger went flipping through the air, embedding itself into the rebel's neck. The man slumped down, twitching slightly as he lay sprawled. Harlow walked over and retrieved his dagger, wiping the blood off the blade with the cadaver's uniform. Harlow looked up at Borek from under his hood.

"Well met, Borek, think its about time to finish this?"

Emperors Faithful wrote:@Cypher: So you are actually in Kell's reach now? Just so I get my bearings on Barbarossa.

[Yes, indeed. "I'll" be heading back out soon.]

Sniper Jemel of the Brigantian defence force watched from his concealed vantage point with the cold efficiency with which he did everything. The other children had always tormented him about it when he had gone to play with them, making up cruel songs. It was one of the reasons he had never got a proper education, the bullying. Why couldn't the adults have simply seen that the others had needed to be beaten to within an inch of their life for their own good? It taught them not to do it again.
As Jemel took aim with his high powered rifle at one of the invaders waving a sabre around in the air like he was asking to be shot (Jemel reasoned he was probably an officer of some kind). As he did so, he found his thoughts drifting idly back to his wife and children home in the planet's capital. The cowardly foe had not reached that location yet, and whilst Jemel still breathed they never would. Amilia would be waiting for him, no doubt with little Lucia and Kaleb waiting around her feet to embrace their heroic father. He remembered first meeting his wife; all the memories they had shared. Sitting on one of the planet's beaches during the summer nights, not caring who saw them. All the hours they had spent at one of the Capital's bars laughing and dancing drunk. Their wedding had been the happiest day of his life; it was snowing, and their vehicle had broken down, so he'd carried her too the marital-hab and made his vows drenched from the thawing snow. He smiled. Who would of thought that little Jemel, who had eaten alone during lunch breaks, would marry such a beautiful women and father two darling children. They respected him more than anything in the world, and he was looking forward to returning to his humble abode after all this was over and telling them how brave their daddy had been. Sighing, Jemel looked down the sight and took aim again at the sabre-man, who was still wandering around aimlessly in the open. He shuddered, though it wasn't particularly cold. Nerves, he suspected. Best to just get on with it.
Elgarion holstered his still smoking pistol as the sniper's corpse fell into the dirt. The rebel had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the Assassin's presence. Took some of the fun out of the job, but then again that wasn't the point the Culexus reasoned. Stalking forwards, kicking the bleeding corpse of the foolish holdout out of his way with little ceremony, the Assassin crouched as he overlooked the battle before. He saw that bastard Harlow in the middle of it, and quietly hoped he'd catch a bullet with his head. Elgarion's route had taken him behind the enemy positions, and he could see the outpost in front of him. That was the target then. Elgarion considered helping the soldiers, but then again that would take time and that was the one thing he didn't have. Leaping down onto the level the combatants brawled upon, Elgarion closed with his prey.

{Aw, and I was just getting to like that guy. }

{Nice post, Fauntleroy! We missed you.}

Joryn was reaching the central chamber now. There was now no doubt in his mind that he'd reached his goal; symbols had been daubed on the walls with a variety of body fluids and in a script that made his eyes ache. Finding the last door locked, Joryn raised his melta and fired a short blast of superheated air at the locking mechanism before kicking it open with a hobnailed boot. It opened onto a modest conference room, at the center of which stood a ceramic statuette, unremarkable but for the sickly aura of power that emanated from its tiny form. Joryn quickly tore the canvas cover from a nearby table and tightly wrapped the foul thing before making his way to the exit.

As he made his way out of the main door, Joryn raised the Praetorians on his comm-set once more. "Lorians, your previous orders are rescinded, effective immediately. Level the communications post with extreme prejudice." He looked up to find Harlow, Warrender's team, and the remaining Karukians awaiting his returns. "Gentlemen," he said, "I think it's about time we got out of this dump. Let's rendezvous with the Lorians, shall we? Borek, have your standard hoisted above the Griffon; I'd hate to see another friendly fire incident."

The now-ragtag band of soldiers made a proud display as they vacated the communications complex, the bold standard of Voldersun fluttering in the breeze above the Griffon's crew compartment. It was then that Cepheus tapped into a private channel on his comm bead. "Command. Cepheus, here. The package is secure and I am awaiting instructions; I have ordered the site purged." He listened for a second or two, then nodded. "Understood. We will hold our position for the time being."

With the battle now dying down, Harlow paced the grounds of the post, the dead lay everywhere, Harlow was gratified to see that they were almost all enemy. He saw Borek proudly lift the Karukian standard above the Griffon. After that was done, Harlow watched Warrender's men, come forward with some paint they found from somewhere and brush out the symbol of the Bretonnians. Harlow laughed as he came to an idea and came over to where the men were busy with the paint. He took up some silver, and with a brush, dabbed a big Imperial Aquila on the flanks and on the right side, with the words: "Traitor's Bane" written underneath the symbol. The men got a laugh out of that, that was when Harlow noticed there was one less...

He didn't bring it up but confirmed it with Warrender, Harlow shook his head in shame, it was a fact of life in the army that rookies and vets alike were to die in humanity's war. Harlow sighed, the thought made him wondr about his own knismen, the last time he'd see a Vendolaner was at least three days ago, many miles to the north.

Harlow continued to wander the compound, keeping vigil for any tricks the enemy had left and waited fro the suppose Lorians to show up and finish securing the area. He looked toward the command bunker. He remembered the way Joryn had scooted in and just as quickly scooted out. Harlow was mildly curious but kept his distance, whatever was in there was sure to be hazardous, and besides, the Lorians were due t blow it sky high anyway.

Presently, Harlow's neck hair began standing on end, the telltale sign that something was watching him close by. Harlow slowly looked around, seeing nothing but imagining the skull face of that assassin he'd seen earlier, Harlow shuddered. He drew his cloak up onto his head and marched away. His circuit of the camp was almost done as he passed a small post house that had been caved in by one of his mortars. Harlow would have smiled if he hadn't heard something moving inside as he drew near. His hand immediately went for the new laspistol and drew it, aiming it carefully.

Another twitch from under the rubble was enough to make him take a shot. All heads snapped around at the sound and all seemed silent fro a moment. Harlow, for a moment, thought with a spike of fear that he had been wrong, but no, he was sure, there was something in there.

"You fraks come out, and I wont gut your worthless hides." Harlow said loudly. It took a moment, but finally, a hole was made in the rubble and Bretonnians began to pile out one after the other. There were six in all, two had the uniforms and regalia of officers, the other four were clad in heavy armor but wisely left their weapons in the building. Harlow concluded that they were the command squad of the post and had probably left the command bunker when it came under assault. Luckily for Harlow, they had been trapped here when the post house fell. The six en had their hands raised, they were covered with dust, a few had injuries, the second officer had one of his arms in a sling.

Harlow motioned for the six men to come closer with his laspistol.

"Slowly you fraks." Harlow said sneering.

"Hands on your heads" Harlow ordered, the men complied.

"Now slowly, take your weapons belts off and drop them." Came the next order. Harlow watched each do as he was told...

except for one of the heavily clad soldiers who grabbed for his pistol, Harlow snickered and shot the man twice. The others froze, the sound of gunfire had drawn a small crowd, including Captain Cephus. Harlow turned to the Captain, a slight grin on his face.

"Found some more prisoners, six.....sorry, five to be exact. These two officers and their henchies."

Harlow motioned for a couple Karukians to relieve them of all possessions and force the prisoners onto their knees, with their hands on their heads.

"Think they know anything we don't?" Harlow asked knowingly.

Emperors Faithful wrote:{Aw, and I was just getting to like that guy. }

(Good; that was the idea.)

Owain wrote:{Nice post, Fauntleroy! We missed you.}

(Thanks, and I apologise for my tardiness, that annoying thing called 'real life' got in the way. I choose to blame it on, and in this order, Newton's second law of motion, women, and Captain Planet.)

(I will do some RP'ing later, first I need some breakfast and then I'm off to order some yummy yummy Tomb Kings. )

(( Part of this section is written in past tense as had writers block so its to fill in the gap i missed, I've kept it brief as too much info on it at this stage would just be confusing as the posts above have moved on since my last past. When you see this symbol=][= then it means the following text is in line with whats currently happening and thats me then up to date. Also L.L.F. that was some nice charactor description ))


When Joryn had radio'ed a warning about the shelling, Marcus had quickly left the bunker as the ground started shaking and the door swung open as a huge dust cloud filled the room with the tunnel collapsing. His thoughts had briefly turned to Branson who moments ago had ran inside to the main complex, but he didn't care, Branson was an idiot he had thought to himself as he joined Warredner and Lukas.

Between the three of them they had buried him near the bunker. Warrender swore blindly that once this was all over they'd return and give him a more deserving burial but this was all they could do for now. As they each muttered a few words each they had quick marched up the path and to the front gate to meet up with the allies.

Warrenders eyes filled with anger as Marcus told him about Branson's disappearing act. He almost wished him to be inside when the tunnel had collapsed to teach him a terrible lesson, he face gave away a wicked and evil smile as he thought more "No, that would mean we'd have to dig him out, that Heavy Stubber is quite a valuable piece of equipment" he thought to himself and laughed quietly. Lukas and Marcus looked at each other, wondering what the joke was.

=][=

As they reached the front gates he could see everything was now under control, as he trudged across the battlefield his eyes met on Branson who was clutching his chest and filthy as hell. He was barely a metre away as Branson looked up to see Warrender descend upon him, before he could even open his mouth Warrender unleashed a terrific right hook so hard Branson spun 360 degree's as his body slumped to the ground face down. As he lay there speechless Warrender brought his left foot into his already wounded chest hard enough to flip him over.

With his face full of rage he knelt beside the figure and gripped his throat with his right hand as Branson lay in agony on his left side facing away. "What were your orders, boy!?" he hoarsed in a lower voice into his ear. Branson gasped for air trying to speak "Too .. to .. to sec .. ure the bunk .. bunker .. si .. sir" He weazed painfully.

In a single motion Warrander hauled him to his feet by his throat and yelled "Does this look like the bunker to you!?" Before waiting for the answer he swayed his hand to the right and let go, the figure slumped sideways and fell to the floor, unable to hold his own weight up. "Get your ass over to the APC!" Warrender snarled as he walked back towards the main gate where the APC was waiting.

Branson followed, trying to ignore the pain as he stood and limped after the cloaked figure, his face down so as not to see Lukas and Marcus who were looking at him from afar.

Warrender heard some raised voices followed by several shots, as he looked up he could see that plenty of people were already there and the mood of them deemed it to be under control. He glanced back to his team as he stood resting against the side of the transport vehicle with arms crossed, his cloak slowly swaying in the slight breeze.

To his right stood Marcus, legs slightly apart and hands behind back almost standing to attention, his gaze trailed to his commanding officer then to Lukas and Branson periodically as he stood there saying nothing. Lukas sat a few feet in front of Warrender on his backside, legs in front of him and head bowed as he craddled his sniper rifle across his lap. Branson sat to Warrenders left in a half kneeling position as he cleaned off his Heavy Stubber, his face full of anger at being smacked around the face by Warrender after they met back up.

Harlow's smirk disappeared from his face as the tell-tale coldness permeated to the core of his being. The prisoners obviously were affected by it too, falling to their knees and in some cases even throwing up. Even though they were the enemy, Harlow didn't blame them; it was taking a monumental force of will himself to stay standing.
Turning slowly, and trying to stop himself shaking, Harlow looked into the leering mask of Elgarion. He noticed the device mounted on his left eye was now fully open, and suspected that this was why he was feeling the effects of that thing’s...soulless-ness so much more keenly. But Harlow had never been one who liked to appear weak. Gritting his teeth, he stared into the Midnight-black eyes glaring at him, though it was all he could do to stop himself weeping as he did so.
"Harlow. What a pleasant surprise."
The Assassin's voice was a deathly whisper, made all the more sinister by its lack of volume. It was also a blatant lie. The Assassin had known full well that Harlow would be here, and had in fact gone out of his way to make sure that they would meet. Elgarion knew he was perhaps putting personal feelings before the job, but then he was allowed to indulge his own goals once in a while as long as he got his task done he reasoned. Tilting his head towards the sobbing rebels, the Assassin spoke again.
"I am going to talk to those men. And get Captain Cepheus here."
Harlow remembered the Captain's last encounter with the monstrosity, and knew that he could not in good conscience let it happen again. Looking around he noticed that two of his troopers were starting to bring their weapons to bear, hatred overpowering any urge they had to run and hide. Steeling himself and flicking the safety of his own weapon, Harlow began to aim himself with shaking hands.
"If...if you think...I'm going to let you...talk to the captain you monster, you-"
"NOW."
A raw blast of power shook the area, throwing the soldiers to the ground. Harlow dropped to his hands and knees, all the wind stolen from him, and now he couldn't stop the whimpers from escaping his lips. Then he felt himself being lifted off the ground; he looked wiry, but hell that Assassin was strong. He couldn't bring himself to look into the soulless orbs that now burned with an intense rage, before the Assassin slapped him with the back of his hand and dropped into the dirt. The Sergeant fumbled for his gun as the shadow loomed over him, and he turned to face his aggressor with a snarl on his lips. Elgarion spoke again, returning to his morbid whisper.
"Listen to me, boy. We have precisely three days to find and kill the leader of these rebels; otherwise every single Ork invasion we've ever had to face is going to look like a childhood game. You army boys have forced him into hiding and ruined everything, so YOU are going to help me finish what I came here to do. Now, I'll say it one more time (Harlow heard the laspistol charging up, though his vision was fuzzy and blurred). Get. Me. Cepheus."

Harlow cowered on the ground, barely able to stand the things fearsome onslaught, his will hardened as his hate rose though, giving him the strength he needed to rise. His laspistol was clutched in his hand, he was so tempted to raise it and fire into that despicable eye of the Assassin's, Harlow snarled in anger as he forced his hand to put the laspistol away.

He stood there, holding himself as proudly as he could in front of the abomination, he could feel its malice on him, he could also sense the fear of the karukians and the others around him, they all tensed and a few of them raised weapons.

Harlow's mind dwelt on the assassin's words, perhaps he was right, perhaps there was some sort of bigger agenda to all this than rebels and loyalists. The thought made him comply....at least halfway.

With eyes locked, Harlow pointed in the general direction of where he'd last seen Cephus.

"You want to see him..." Harlow started, his voice said faltering little, "Go find him."

With that Harlow turned and walked away, disgusted and wanting nothing to do with the horrid thing he'd talked to.

Borek was still cheering with the Karukians and waving the flag when he spotted the assassin approaching Captain Cepheus, even from this distance the mere sight of the Assassin made him want to retch. Thrusting the flag into Jasar's hand he jumped down from the Griffon, switching off the safety of his autogun. A few of Borek's men noticed, following him as Borek quickened his pace to intercept the assassin.

"Captain, at arms!" Borek shouted, causing Cepheus to spin around, his hand jumping to his sidearm. The assassin turned as well, not half-a-dozen strides from where Borek now stood, his autogun levelled at the assassin's face. The finger tightened on the trigger...

*Ka-chick*

Jammed. Oh feth, thought Borek. The assassin was a blur, covering the distance in a moment Elgarion kicked the autogun out of Borek's hand, before slamming in Borek's nose with a lightning fast fist. Borek spun around into the mud on his hands and knees. He threw up but not becuase of the solid blow to the head, the chainmail facegaurd has softened most of the damage, the assassin's very presence had become intolerable. There was a whirring and scratching in Borek's head, like frantic fingernails scraping the inside of his skull. Elgarion started to follow up on his lethal attack, ready to finish Borek off while he was down and neautralize the threat. Borek threw up again, but Elgarion didn't notice Borek's hand on his sabre's hilt. The sabre whipped out as Borek sprung to his feet, inflicting a superficial cut on Elgarion's midsection. With a cry Borek leaped forward, slamming his steel helmet into Elgarion's skull-mask. Elgarion stumbled back stunned, but Borek screamed clutching his head and falling to his knees, evidently headbutting a Culexus rarely works out. He retched again, nothing but bile this time.

By now the half-dozen Karukian's that had followed Borek had formed a ring around the assassin and jumped in. Although they were by now universally shaking and pale merely due to the presence of the assassin, they leapt to the defence of their leige with only the slightest hesitation. One tackled Elgarion while he was still dazed, but the assassin's instincts kicked in, flipping the Karukian off with a sweep of his legs and throwing him into another armsman. Another swung at him with a sabre, Elgarion dodged with ease, grabbing the man's arm, dislocating the man's shoulder, causing the unfortunate Karukian to scream and throw up the same time, before delivering a kick to the chest that sent him flying, cracking a rib. Four, five, then six Karukians came at Elgarion at the same time. One managed to dodge a swing from Elgarion before delivering a few solid blows to Elgarion's wounded midsection. The animum specifus (the Culexus headgear weaon right?) sent the man flying. Another cracked Elgarion over the head with the butt of an autogun, but Elgarion retaliated with a savage kick that broke the man's knee. Before long Elgarion, though shaking with exhaustion and clutching his side, was the only one standing. Borek was still trying to get back on his feet, swearing in Karukian. Borek raised the sabre once again and approached the assassin, ready to defend the Captain from this thing to the death.



{BTW, I realise that you probably aren't trying to kill Cepheus, but Borek doesn't know that. }

With great difficulty, Cepheus staggered towards the brawl. "Cease this at once!", he roared. The combatants paused and looked up at the captain, who seemed even more affected than the others. The assassin had forced his hand, and just as the mission was going so well; whoever had had the bright idea to request their "assistance" was going to be in a world of hurt when this was all over.

Joryn thrust a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, bifold leather case. He opened the snap-closure with some difficulty and held it up for all to see. Inside was a badge in the shape of a stylized skull backed by a Burgundian cross. He spoke with a great deal of effort, the veins in his temples visibly throbbing."You know very well who I am and what you are doing, Assassin, and I doubt that your masters would be pleased to find out that you've so flagrantly threatened our operational security. You will engage your limiters before this entire mission's success is jeopardized."

Elgarion felt as though he'd just been slapped. Of all the twists he had made contingency plans for, this was not one of them. With visible effort, he closed the Animus, and stepped back. The barbarian who had attacked him looked at him with a mixture of smugness and confusion, and Elgarion made a mental note to gut him later as well.
But not now. There were more pressing concerns now.
Through gritted teeth, the Assassin spoke. "Of course they would not, sir, but I am also sure a man such as yourself respects that I have received quite enough setbacks already and time is running out." The other soldiers watched the exchange in stunned silence; unsure of what it was they were seeing. Cepheus was visibly reaching the limits of his endurance now, and his knees were sagging. Elgarion saw his opening.
"Whatever your previous orders were, in light of this new evidence we both know that we need to move quickly. I will not enforce any decisions on you, but neither am I leaving; this time, I am coming with you. It would appear our objectives are more...closely linked than I thought." The Culexus saw Harlow bristle at this, and smiled below his helmet. If nothing else, he thought, I've annoyed that bastard, so today has been a good day. The captain retched, and gave a weak nod.
Nodding, and turning for a moment to face the now snarling Harlow, Elgarion turned and stalked towards the rag-tag company's transport. Behind him, he heard the Karkurians he knocked to the floor rising and muttering obscenities under their breath. Pausing for a minute, the Assassin inclined his head to the side almost contemplatively.
"One more thing."
In a flash Elgarion unholstered his pistol and shot Borek in the hand. The gun was at a low power level, but it still made the man yelp like a frightened dog and drop his weapon. At this, the Karkurians aimed their weapons with angry roars, before Captain Cepheus raised his hand and weakly shook his head, before dropping to his knees and gasping for air. The shot Borek gripped his burned hand and fixed the Assassin with a look of pure hatred. Elgarion simply shrugged.
"You hit me.", he said dismissively, before stalking away.

"Perhaps you misheard me.", Joryn said. "You will engage your limiters immediately if you wish this mission to continue. This team will not be combat-effective if everyone continues vomiting."

The Assassin felt a surge of the pschopathic rage well up within him. He surpressed it.
"Whatever you say, glorius leader." He snarled, with more than a hint of contempt. However, he recognised the value in what the man had said, and almost at once the entire group breathed a collective sigh of relief. Elgarion perched himself on the Griffon, and met the Captain's stare uncompromisingly.

Warrender watched the scene as he leaned against the transport carrier. He had toyed with the idea of sniping the Assassin while distracted with the altercation with Joryn but he knew better. He had witnessed the works of the Culexus Assassins Guild many times during his military career and he knew that these assassins may be contemptuous but they certainly were not be underestimated. Instead he remained where he was, calculating the scene and while letting the others deal with the assassin he stood ready in case things got out of hand.

His gaze followed his movements, his experience had aided him to not sucumb so easily to this soulless creature. But despite all his training as the assassin moved away from the group and closer towards him he could still feel his stomach retching as it drew nearer. He summonded all his strenght to maintain his composure so as not to appear weak to the others and drew a mental sigh of relief as the assassin closed his eye piece while getting nearer to the transport. "Whatever you say, glorius leader." he could just about make out the assassin saying.

Warrender looked back to his team and shook his head silently in disgust as he saw that Branson and Lukas had already puked onto the floor. A glance to Marcus saw him still standing as he was, legs apart hands behind him, strangely unaffected by the Assassins glare. "Odd" he thought to himself

(

HellsGuardian316 wrote: A glance to Marcus saw him still standing as he was, legs apart hands behind him, strangely unaffected by the Assassins glare. "Odd" he thought to himself

Hmmmm....interesting....

Dun wanna step on anyone's toes but I think I'm gonna move the Lorians just a little bit for the sake of moving along.)

Harlow stood at the edge of the compound, the prisoners sitting before him, their hands tied behind their back and their eyes bound by cloth. They were all stripped from the waist up and at in silence. Harlow glowered and simmered in anger. He'd nearly exploded when the Assassin stated he was coming with them, He was more surprised at Cephus' revelation and got a large amount of satisfaction from watching the assassin squirm. He hadn't liked the monster since he'd seen him, coming in, taking charge as if he was some Lord general. Harlow turned his head slightly and spotted the assassin in the corner of his eye. He growled lowly and turned back to watching the prisoners. His rifle was in his hands, his fingers thrumming along the polished flank. Briefly, very briefly, he considered turning it on the assassin but just shook his head, that would just get him dead.

Soon, from the south and west, the Lorians began to arrive, they looked like hell, Harlow wondered what they'd been through as he saw the faces of the dirty soldiers. In the next few minutes the Imperials had a decent hold on the post again and the flag of the Imperium was raised above the few intact buildings that were left.

The slightest fluttering sound caused Harlow to put his arm out as Sehra floated down and lit on it. Harlow noticed the small satchel attached to the hawk's leg had something in it. He took it out and saw that it was an Imperial runner message shell. He took out a small piece of blue paper wondering who it could be from but knowing exactly at the same time where it had come from.

The message was written in Vendolan war code, it was a coordinate along with the words that roughly translated into something like "Dothar intact."

Harlow's eyes darted, on his home planet the word "Dothar" was a word used for a company of hunters. Harlow took the meaning at once and checked his map for the coordinate. He smiled as he saw the coordinate plain put the "Dothar" at several kilometers norhtwest. Harlow took out his own message wafer and wrote down something on it, he placed the wafer in the message shell and put it back into the Hawk's satchel.

"Fly fast, ol girl." Harlow whispered and watched the hawk fly off into the distance. Harlow sighed in satisfaction and relief, he hadn't known if any of his kinsmen had survived that day but it seemed at least a few had....

Borek wrapped the damp bandage around his hand. The assassin's weapon had scorched the metal guantlet, heating the metal and almost cooking the hand inside. Apart from the burn, a few bruises and an empty stomach though, Borek was no worse for wear. His pride had been hurt though.

The Karukians all agreed, speaking in whispers as they dug trenches for the corpses. Their Lord Borek would have the assassins head, and bury the creature in a shallow grave. Only the wisdom of Captain Cepheus, or whoever he really was, prevented that from happening right now.

Warrender looked up and watched as the Assassin climbed up onto the APC and perched himself there. He could still see the rage on his face that he was suppressing and even though he had closed his eye his very presence was still very unnerving, even for Warrender. He forced himself to look away and started to walk towards Joryn and the others, putting on his best face and tried to look confident and casual as he walked towards the group, his cloak swayed slightly with each purposeful step, his hands behind him, his right hand holding his left forearm as he walked, a habit of his when he was deep in thought.

Branson and Lukas's head's suddenly snapped away from the Assassin at the realisation that their Captain had walked off without them and quickly bolted after him picking up their weapons as they stood up. Neither wishing to be near this deadly assassin and looked almost like lost puppies following their master as they raced after him. Marcus looked up at the assassin, who met his gaze, he then looked back to Warrender and the two sorry excuses for soldiers and scoffed loudly, his face turning to a smug grin as he slowly walked off to follow Warrender.

As he passed Borek he gave a knowing nod, Borek glanced up and grimaced back as he tended to him arm, showing his anger all too clearly on his face.

As warrender came up to Joryn he stopped, Lukas and Branson almost bumping into him. He reached up and slowly removed his cap and held it in his left hand, carefully he brushed his free hand through his hair several times, moving the stray greyish black hairs away from his eyes and betraying his youthful appearence with one that was obviously older than anyone had previously thought him to be. After what must have felt like a long silence he lifted his cap and pulled it snuggly atop his head with both hands, rasing his head he locked his view upon Joryn who had been watching him as had everyone else, presumably awaiting to hear what Warrender was going to say.

Unbeknown to them Warrender's slow methodical act was purposeful, he had sensed and seen! the great unease caused by the Assassin's altercation with Joryn and the many members of the group and the sudden tempers rising amoung the ranks was building rapidly which could boil over so very easily. He knew that while everyone was watching him they would be distracted from the uproar caused by the assassin and that tempers would calm, one of his many skills was diplomacy and reading body language and these had served him well. He did not doubt Joryn's ability to restore order himself, but things could easily get out of hand as everyone was already wound so tightly it wouldn't take much to snap, Joryn was already fuming mad which everyone else could sense and this would not help matters at all. People always looked to their leaders and the mood of the leader was always passed down the ranks, something Warrender knew very well.

"Joryn" Warrender spoke calmly addressing Joryn, "Might I suggest that we complete our assignment in this area then maybe have a discussion between You, I, Harlow and Borek as to our next course of action while on the move?" He paused for a brief moment before adding in a quieter voice "It may be worthwhile including the Assassin as well, we would be better able to perform our tasks if we are all singing from the same book so-to-speak" He said putting control of the situation back into Joryn's hands.

He knew Joryn was obviously a well versed man, he had to be in order to be given the rank and the responsibility he now wielded. As he awaited Joryn to speak he could almost sense the understanding in his eyes and that he understood what he was trying to achieve. His comment was subtley enough to re-enforce that Joryn was in command and not this Assassin who's name he still had not learned, while at the same time not instilling more tension into what was already a tense situation by outrighting him completely. He had no doubt in his mind that one of those four was going to end up dead, and as ashamed as he was to admit it, if he had to make a bet he very much doubted it would be the Assassin that would be put in a body bag.