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(Kharaxx knows roughly where your character is, but nothing more. He is headed for that location, though.)

(@ everyone - I can take it from BrotherHaraldus' post at 18:28p.m if everyone is cool with that? As I thought that was the que to emerge from the shadows, but I'l go along with what ever people think is best so the thread doesn't crumble.)

 Themanwiththeplan wrote:
(@ everyone - I can take it from BrotherHaraldus' post at 18:28p.m if everyone is cool with that? As I thought that was the que to emerge from the shadows, but I'l go along with what ever people think is best so the thread doesn't crumble.)

(Yeah, I think that's best. After mine and thepowerfulwill's post there, the thread just sorta went all wacko. Go on from there.)

(Yeah it's your que again. I changed it so I lept down, thinking this is Solomon's fault and attacked him... sorry again for throwing this into disarray. I will look more thoroughly before I leap next time...)

(@ Thepowerfulwill. I tried to attack you, was stopped and have agreed to work together, for now.)

"Did not your sorcerer bring us here? If so I hold you accountable. I so nearly had my prize, and now I find myself... here.
Gah, the plans have been ruined... no doubt some unworthy fool has taken what is rightfully mine"

I didn't ask him to do it. I think he was actually trying to kill me. Heh heh heh, I'm actually a little proud.
*Gestures to the white-armored marine*
He claimed his skull, I claimed his blood, any body parts you want?
*Reached his non-clawed hand out to the interloper.*

The pale warrior moves like a thunder bolt towards his last hide where he has left the small trembler device that he knew would eventually pique the pale ones interest. And grins darkly upon seeing the confusion clearly portrayed in Kharaxx' stance as he stoops to retrieve his toy upon failing to find his expected quary.
Letting out a booming laughter that echoes into every recess of the room Gideon drops from the shadows into their midst with a soft thump of his rubberised soles. Blade in hand, he greets his brothers with a mock salute with his now humming sword as he lets out another heart felt sound of pure amusement.

Walking slowly to place the group before his blade he says. 'Greetings my kin, let me introduce my self. My name is Gideon Kalan, Warlord of the Sickle Moon Warband. I seek passage off this, Hulk,' *Almost spitting the word.* ' that I have deduced from your mutterings we find our selves within. I seek no arguement with any of you. Simply an escape from this, place.' *looking about the walls in disgust.* 'But be forwarned. If it is blood you seek, then you shall find it.' Ending the dialouge with a whirl of his blade and a hand on his pistol as he awaits an answer from the group of killers eying the red warrior with the glowing blue flamed eyelits.

You want to get home, then we share a common goal, welcome aboard.
*The massive terminator laughs heartily, and extends his claw, no other hands to use.*
This just like back in the day, heh heh heh, A bunch of chaos lords, someone to kill, and a space hulk with one way out. This is going to be fun.
*He grins once more*

"Well if this is none of your doing, I have no quarrel with you, as long as I his withered, corrupted heart"

*Marxx shakes Solomon's hand with his own free one*

"Now, has anyone explored this hulk? If we could find an escape vessel or even a functioning warp-drive we could return"

Kharaxx points at Gideon with Gorestorm, his power axe. The axe head, formed into the likeness of a Daemonic visage, seems to pulsate with hunger for blood.

'Why do you hide in shadows, Warlord?

And I am getting suspicious here. It seems only high officers have been teleported here. Whoever did this must have done it with this intention...'

You have a deal.
*Solomon shakes back, quite pleased with this*
My ship's warp drive works, but it is stuck to the the hulk, my crew is dead, and there is... "this"
*He gestures to the terminator sized hole in the wall.*
I vote we should search my ship for any working weapons, Kharaxx has a point, something bigger than a sorcerer brought us here. any objections?

'Indeed.' Nero cleared what would have been its throat as it spoke. 'It would appear that perhaps a mass assassination attempt was conducted against those of us gathered here, only to backfire and, rather than kill us, unite us in this hulk. I propose we unite, at least temporarily, to bring down our assailant.'
'My sword is right.' The Apothecary had had to get used to saying that quickly. 'We'll have a better chance at vengeance united. As for who did it...' He faced Solomon. 'What can you tell us of this Sorcerer? And just who are you anyway? In fact, who are any of you?'

Kharaxx makes a strange saluting gesture.

'I am Kharaxx, 'the Raging Whirlwind', Chaos Lord and Master of Berzerkers in the Glacier Serpents warband.'

"I am Marxx, lieutenant of the Sons of Remembrance, second only to Muninn, master of our warband. I am known also known as the 'Lord of Malice' by many, if that helps you in any way..."

'Fear in the unkown is a powerful ally, Kharaxx. Fearing something you can not see, your mind drags forth it's nightmares to make them manifest in the foe that is everywhere, and is no where. Where there is fear there is dread. Where there is dread there is terror. Where there is terror, so shall you also find chaos and the Sickle Moon.'

Turning from his private conversation with the pale one and his axe held loose at his side he addresses the other Astartes conversing on the next course of action and a pondering of the strings of fate that has gathered so many that hold such sway.

'As I've just told you, brother-Nero. My name is Gideon, and I am unacustomed to repeating my self.l* looking the the others he states. 'Let us seek the path the neverborn have thrust us upon. Solomon, lead the way onto your vessel so we can know what parts to look for amongst the labyrinth that surounds us.'

*Solomon gritted his teeth as spoke*
My sorcerer was always a strong one, not the best, but not the worst. He uses a defaced set of defaced Dark Angels librarian armor, he stripped off the paint like mine and has several marks of tzeentch adorning it. He will not be working alone, the only reason he never led was that he had no interest in the warband, no just the artifacts we would take. He has a boss, I don't know who.
*He taps his head with one finger*
But he was always a bit touched in the head, the man has never had a sense for tactics, we CAN outsmart him.
*Solomon moves his massive frame and sits on a heavy metal crate.*
As for me, my name is Solomon, or Overlord Solomon the Ancient is you prefer. I don't. I lead a small warband. We call ourselves the silver scourge, we mostly just act as pirates, stealing what we can from imperial ships, I just took this one from some hive scum excuse for a rouge trader, I had a small team with me, they are all dead, but I had some spawn locked up in the cargo hold, I don't know how they are doing. Gothicus, the sorcerer, was with me, but he was gone before I woke up. Evidence points to him killing the pilot and crashing the ship into this place.

The Apothecary nodded, bowing in turn. 'And I am Authrix, Chief Apothecary-Murdermonger of the Bringers of Darkness, Lieutenant to the Daemon Lord Ariok. This is my assistant, Nero.'
'Greetings.' The sword attempted to bow, lowering itself in Authrix's hand. The Apothecary continued.
'It is a long path to corruption. Surprised the Dark Angels let it happen.' Under his helm, his grin slipped ever wider. 'Not that its a disappointment.' He barely suppressed a sadonic laugh as he continued. 'So, who would like to tell the class how we find this witch?'

*Solomon turns to the hole in the wall*
It should be big enough for us all to fit through...
*He turns back*
Let's go, I know we had some melta weapons stashed in here, and a couple other heavy weapons. If we are lucky Gothicus left some sign of where he went.
*The massive man ducks into the hole, and into the artificial light of the ship. The power was still on. Good.

Gideon passes through the hole into the crashed vessel with it's flickering lighting and buckled bulkheads and immediately slips into the nearest shadow as Solomon moves purposely ahead of him.

*Marxx cautiously follows, fist and sabre at the ready.*

"Pah... I hate space hulks..."

Kharaxx goes last, impatiently tapping his fingers on the handle of his greataxe. He does so in complete silence.

*Looking around, the newcomers see nothing but carnage. Bloody limbs and crushed bodies everywhere. One Chaos asartes is actually impaled on the over sized horns of other's helmet. Scraps of unpainted armor are everywhere shredded, and gore soaked.*
*Solomon steps over a corpse*
What a mess. I'll head down to the cargo bay, see if any of the spawn made it, everyone else, fan out and see what works.
*The hulking man begins to descend a darkened flight of metal stairs, the power seems to be off in this section of the ship.*

Kharaxx looks at the bodies.

'Either these were unusually weak Astartes, or something very powerful is aboard this ship. Few things in the galaxy can butcher Marines in this manner.'

*Solomon activates the night vision built into his helmet, illuminating a large door in from of him*
Oh. My. (Chaos) God.
*In front of him, made from a tangle of body parts staked into the wall, is a pattern, something like a symbol of a chaos god, but not one he had even seen*
Everyone! I found an unknown symbol here, can anyone Identify it?

Seeing the carnage wrought about to a particular brother that had had his helm ripped wide open by something incredibly strong whom had decided upon a whim to pin the face beneath to the jagged metal. Judging by the wild eyed look on what was left of the man's face, his death had been far from quick.
What manner of beast could do this to one of his own while he still draws breath, he wonders.
He files away the details of a powerful, inteligent, but utterly insane foe that maybe stalking the decks, and voxs to never die same as the poor fools littering the floor and walls with their gore.
Seeing Solomon swallowed by the the pitch black on his way to the vast holds in the lower deck, Gideon decides to follow him down as his rubber soles barely whisper on the metal steps. In the pitch black awaiting him at the bottom, he hugs the walls and alcoves out of habit as he follows the old Astartes. Only pausing long enough to strip a bolter along with a few sickle mags and frag grenade from a cadaver shorn in two resting in a pool of it's own blood and fouler bodily fluids before rejoining Solomon once more...

Resting at his shoulder he answers the question. ' I have never seen this pattern before. Are you sure that it it evem Chaos? It looks more the work of some xenos to me. But then again, I never was one to notice anyway.' he says.

*Solomon reaches out and touches a large metal door close to his right, almost absent-mindedly... Then an earsplitting roar issued forth from the other side, muffed, but still shockingly potent. The hideous cry was like a man choking and gurgling blood, while being set aflame, at this horrible sound Solomon only smiled.*

Looks like the spawn is still kicking! Probally shouldn't open the door yet though...

*Marxx prods one of the fallen Astartes with his sabre*

"Whatever did this, it certainly is primitive. Fueled by rage but with no skill..."

*Marxx looks left and right*

"These bodies are fresh, too. Whatever did this is close by... no doubt it already knows of our presence..."

Kharaxx hefts his axe. 'Let them come... Gorestorm hungers.'

'Ssss,' hisses the the blade to no one but it's master. 'I feel a presence here. Warp tainted air gusts from every hall and doorway.' whispers Gideons companion. 'Ssss The witch is still here, Gideon. He never left. Be on your guard, for he is never alone. Remember it, or face your doom when the shadows can no longer protect you'

Gideon felt an all to human chill run down his spine at these words and left Solomon infront of the doorway to head back the way he came. Nearing the part of the ship where the others still lingered and searched, he decided to follow the pale one in his wonderings.