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"I am Atropos, the Bane Elemental, the bringer of fear." Bane bowed: "I mean no harm to you or your allies, as long as you mean no harm to me, I simply wish to preform my sacred duty of bringing the realms of mortal and imortal their dreams, and also to harvest their fear." Bane placed his hand to the tip of the rifle and lightly pushed it down; "And who might you be?"

She frowned a little. "I guess I wont be sleeping with you around. I am Cyree Altius, Commando of the Asari Republics. I guess my goal in my life right now is to help stop an galactic invasion by a powerful alien race called the Reapers", she replies. Cy lowers her rifle. "Although now it would be to get out of this madhouse", she says.

Plagueblade had just cut down several Zombiemen and proceeds deeper into the base. Ahead he hears several non-demonic voices speaking.

Relieved over finally having found a way to communicate- if unwieldy- Ashiraya continued to gesture, trying to compress maximum information into as few words as possible. For now she ignored Bane- if he became a threat she would be ready, but until then communications were a priority.

'Do - not - know - why - I - am - here. Strange - place. Want - information. Finding - translator - useful.'

Cyree looked at Ash again after she noticed her signing again. She furrowed her brow as she thought of an answer to the other's question. She also tried to remember the signs she needed.

"I am an alien warrioress. Not from here or from where you are from. Golden man is a magic man. Big ego. Cant be trusted. Black gooey man feeds on bad dreams. Big threat. Keep on eye on them. Recommend you pick up alien weapons".

Cyree lowers her hand to rest it on her belt. She instead finds a metal cylinder that had somehow appeared on her belt. One that matches the magazine on the weird rifle. She puts her Mattock rifle away, takes out her other rifle out and looks it over for a way to replace the magazine.

Suddenly, someone laughed out loud. The laughter was a base, incomprehensible laugh. And the laugh was coming out of the mouth of that man in shining golden armor. In the face of such serious introductions, it almost sounded like he was simply ridiculing his current companions without even saying anything at all. Ignoring the elemental's potential wrath, the golden Heroic Spirit replied brokenly as he guffawed.

“Calling yourself the bringer of fear – harvesting the fear of mortals and immortals alike – a person like you could see that as a sacred duty?' Ha! It is funny, Atropos! You’re the world’s best clown!” he continued, before eventually calming himself down. Still, he supposed he should give such a being a slight modicum of respect assuming he wasn't simply lying to them. "Whatever the case, I shall permit all of you to know my name as Gilgamesh, mankind's oldest King over all Heroes."

Bane scowled as he raised himself up over Gilgamesh, Atropos raised a jagged finger to the armoured figure of Gilgamesh; "I'm happy to preform my duties upon those who question them child, do not tempt me into abusing my gifts upon those who seek their wrath such as yourself. Those with the greatest egos bring with them the most entertaining of fears."

Neither psychic said it out loud, but both knew they were being followed. Psychic resonance. Potentially hostile.
'You feel that?' they asked over private comms. A loud cough from behind caused them to turn around slowly, the other two almost leaping out of their skins.
'And you two were meant to be rearguard.' Arfiel muttered.
'And you are?' Authrix asked, his hand resting on his Bolt Pistol. 'And it had better be good witch. I don't have time to deal with Eldar bullgak right now.'

'I walk the witch path, and I have no desire to end your lives, so yes, you could call me the good witch' Id'rael replied. 'Let me introduce myself. I am Id'rael, exiled warlock of Craftworld Il'han, and I have come to offer my assistance to your merry band of followers.'

Lord Plagueblade approached this group of chatting figures and stopped. All of them seemed to re-coil from the stench of decay that emanated from him.

He simply gazed at the group through his chainmail veil. They were all inferior beings, but perhaps co-operation would help further a mutual goal. Nurgle does have a sense of compassion after all. All the same, he refused to speak to them.

The mysterious blue humanoid was using advanced words that seemed to differ highly from Thalassian sign language. She thought hard but it was difficult to make sense of what she could understand. She thought it seemed like

'"I am an. Not from or you are from. Golden is magic man. Big ego. Cant trusted. Gooey man feeds bad. Big. Keep eye them. You pick alien".

But she could not be sure. She was beginning to become very frustrated now as what she could discern made little sense.

Suddenly, she had an idea. There were little moisture in the air, but it would suffice. She lifted her hand and began manipulating the air temperatures, creating something almost like a hologram out of surprisingly sharply shaped mist.

First she depicted her own world, before zooming in on the northmost continent until she reached a great fortress. She zoomed in further into the fortress until she reached where she had been the night before. She showed how the portal had sucked her in to the distress of those nearby and how it spat her out here. She hoped that this would suffice.

These beings waste too much time trying to communicate with each other. Plagueblade saw an approaching demon and shoved the illusionist out of his way to confront it. He cut it down with three swings of his scythe.

Actions speak louder than words.

Gilgamesh shrugged rather innocently, apparently unconcerned with the threatening way the Bane Elemental presented itself before him. "Who cares? I have no need to understand the thoughts of mongrels. Believe in what you wish, but don't be so quick to challenge something you barely know about. Else you might find that you've bitten off more than you can chew." he stared back at the Bane Elemental, his crimson eyes now taking on a more serious tone.

Behind the mongrel was a pack of creatures just rushing forward, demonic-looking creatures that seemed attracted to everything that has happened here so far. "As interested as I am in settling this score with you, I already know how it will end so there's no point. Try to stay out of my way." Gilgamesh continued, brushing past Atropos before snapping his fingers in quick succession. In an instant, the space in front of him was simply destroyed by an enormous amount of weapons flying every which way. He didn't need to aim at anything, just let the explosions take care of the demonic creatures on the way to the group.

If there are any stragglers, he can let them deal with it.

 Timmy149 wrote:
'I walk the witch path, and I have no desire to end your lives, so yes, you could call me the good witch' Id'rael replied. 'Let me introduce myself. I am Id'rael, exiled warlock of Craftworld Il'han, and I have come to offer my assistance to your merry band of followers.'

'No desire? Sounds more like you wouldn't want to try.' Hepps muttered, forcing his hand away from his gun. Authrix struggeled similarly. For their part, Rynn and Arfiel just smiled.
'Well, another wouldn't hurt I suppose.' She bounded over to the newcomer, presenting a hand. 'I'm Rynn, this is Arfiel - erm...'
'Hepps and Authrix.' Arfiel finished. 'Where are you headed stranger?'
'Nowhere good most likely. ' Arfiel scowled at the Stromtrooper, before returning his focus to Id'rael.

 Ashiraya wrote:
The mysterious blue humanoid was using advanced words that seemed to differ highly from Thalassian sign language. She thought hard but it was difficult to make sense of what she could understand. She thought it seemed like

'"I am an. Not from or you are from. Golden is magic man. Big ego. Cant trusted. Gooey man feeds bad. Big. Keep eye them. You pick alien".

But she could not be sure. She was beginning to become very frustrated now as what she could discern made little sense.

Suddenly, she had an idea. There were little moisture in the air, but it would suffice. She lifted her hand and began manipulating the air temperatures, creating something almost like a hologram out of surprisingly sharply shaped mist.

First she depicted her own world, before zooming in on the northmost continent until she reached a great fortress. She zoomed in further into the fortress until she reached where she had been the night before. She showed how the portal had sucked her in to the distress of those nearby and how it spat her out here. She hoped that this would suffice.

Cyree accidently thumbed the magazine release which caused the shoddily constructed metal cylinder to fall down and crack. She quirked an eyebrow at the drum magazine before noticing that the Sin'dorei was putting on a display. She caught it in time to spot the world she was from. It looked nothing like Earth so that ruled out her belief that Ashiraya was a time traveler from Old Earth. In fact, as her slide show concluded the possibility that she, along with the other individuals here, weren't just freaks from different points of time and different parts of the Universe dawned on her. They were from different Universes entirely. How far exactly was Cyree away from home? Would she ever truly return? Furthermore, why were these weirdos and her transported to this place?

These thoughts and more raced through the Asari's mind. However, she quelled them. There would be a time and place for questions later on. Perhaps to someone who actually knows what is going on here.

Before giving a reply to the Elf Cyree focused on completing the reload of her antique machine gun. She took one of the drums off of her belt and replaced it on the side of the Machine Gun in the same fashion as the previous one had been attached. It clicked into place but she wasn't sure if that was enough to actually get the thing to fire again. She turned to Bane and Gilgamesh. "Do either of you know how to reload these old firearms?", she asked.

"Where I am headed is none of your concern, human. What matters is that we find out why we are all here, when Mars should be dominated by your Cults of Mars." Id'rael turned, looking back down the corridor from where he had come. "This is a creation of the Mon-Keigh, no doubt. Surely you know something about this place?"

Walking back over to the group, Plagueblade continued to observe their behavior. The one named Gilgamesh struck him as a fancy Dan. He reminded him of a rival Chaos Lord dedicated to Slaanesh. He heard stories of this lord's extremely successful campaign against High Elf colonial armies in the northlands of the old world, so he challenged his warband.

The showdown took place in a bog. The Slaanesh Lord's armor had a lustrous gold that he was afraid of dirtying. So his warband tried to march around the swamp while Plagueblade and his warband simply trudged through it. When he finally came face to face with him, Plagueblade splashed mud on the Slaaneshi Lord's armor and his reaction was just hilarious. He made this high pitched shriek of horror at what happened to him and almost burst into tears. He didn't last three seconds against Plagueblade's scythe.

Gilgamesh was probably the same. All flair, no fight.

The Demons of hell were restless. Their invasion was being interrupted, and foreigners gathered on their chosen battleground and they knew precious little about their capabilities other than that they were capable of outmatching their pixelated hordes just as that one obstinate marine could. Nightmarish combinations of demon and machine writhed in the world of mars and the terraformed landscapes of it's small moons. Nightmarish combinations whose fearful edge was likely taken out by their sixteen bit rendering and windows 95 era sound rendering. Still, they bayed loudly and ferociously as they marshalled forth, eager to spill blood.

A surge in demonic activity could be seen all over Phobos, Deimos, and Mars as the creatures emptied out of Hell, seeking to quickly claim a staging ground for their future invasion of Earth. More elite forms of Demons were being sent out to succeed where their lesser kin had failed. And it was hoped that through this extra expenditure of effort, the Doom of man could be brought about. Of course, the shuddering of the facility as the ever psychotic Doom-guy dived head first into the biggest piles of violence he could find were already showing that the demons were meeting more resistance than just the covenant.

The facility shook and lights flickered as rocket launchers exploded outside, the Doomguy circle strafing at breakneck paces to kill everything in sight while he garbled out profanities and taunts at equally rapid speeds, the sight of violence filling his heart with a sort of savage glee as he found his warrior's paradise in the form of an ample supply of enemies to brutally and utterly destroy. Mad laughter could be faintly heard over the roars and snarls of violence and mayhem, all while elsewhere, another person of importance was making her own rounds through the facility. Samus Aran, heiress to the legacy of the Chozo, greatest warrior in the galaxy, a figure of virtual myth and legend in her own timeline, and one who's abilities were being put to frequent use here.

Monsters were filing out to seek for victims in the area, all running into the religious fanatacism of the alien covenant, and others going on paths that would bring them to meet the travelers. She herself tracked their movements, moving along roof tops and through various crannies her morph ball was able to fit into, making note of their progress as a Demonic force pressed closer and closer to the location of the travelers, elements splitting off whenever they found enemies to fight. She had already filled her logs with data about these monsters, noting strengths and weaknesses as she waited for the most opportune moment to strike.

A moment that it seems, would soon be granted as the Demons, some rendered much more frightfully on much later engines (Doom 3 demons) started to come within audible distance of the travelers, the baying of creatures reaching a fervour pitch as a Cyberdemon and Chaingun wielding Spider mastermind lead their multitudes forward. Arche-viles quickly teleported in to ensure that their fallen comrades would be resurrected as needed, while potent "boss" rank demons such as Hell Barons and Mancubi would keep the rank and file in line. An impressive, if utterly undisciplined force to be sure.

And of course, the vanguard of this force would be the ever abused low ranking zombies and fodder demons, like the endlessly put upon imps or baby-like cherubs. Though in the case of the Zombies, they seemed to be less the rotting corpses of standard folklore, and more like victims of possession, with their driving spirits commanding their forms to press on and smash through the entrance guns blazing, though by this time they had already given ample warning of their presence from all the noise they made.

 Timmy149 wrote:
"Where I am headed is none of your concern, human. What matters is that we find out why we are all here, when Mars should be dominated by your Cults of Mars." Id'rael turned, looking back down the corridor from where he had come. "This is a creation of the Mon-Keigh, no doubt. Surely you know something about this place?"

'Typical bloody Eldar.' Hepps blurted as he turned, facing the Eldar head on. 'Haven't a clue, alright? Not a bloody idea. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I-' he stopped as he felt a massive metallic hand grip his shoulder.
'Usually,' The Dark Angels started 'I would reprimand him for being rude. However, in this case I agree. We won't tell you anything if you remain evasive. So, tell us where you're headed, we'll let you know what we're doing. As I said, Id'rael, I have no time for Eldar bullgak.'
The other two exchanged glances. 'So... who is that guy?'
'It's an Eldar. Think somewhere between Primals and Redemptionists.'
'I see. I think.'
'Well they don't really trust the Eldar. Rather a reputation for lying.' Rynn nodded.
'We both know someone like that.' The two suppressed shudders as Authrix continued.
'So, are you going to play nice?'

"Yes, I believe I will, for our mutual interest. Lead on, Space Marine, let us discover what is going on here."

"Hmmm?" Gilgamesh turned his head with a dull expression as Cyree mentioned reloading the strange firearm. Strangely enough, someone like him who lived thousands of years before such items were even invented, knew how those things actually worked. It is to be expected given his manifestation in this current place and time, revealing knowledge that he normally would not have cared about. But he had other hobbies as well that included him coming into contact with such firearms. Berserker was one such Heroic Spirit who relied heavily on that after all.

"Just try that thing out if you are worried about having 'reloaded' that properly. Of course, the current revelations definitely took hold of his interest. So it wasn't just different worlds that these people are from? A different plane of reality even? Now that was indeed curious and definitely something he had to look into.

And then there was the loathing look he sensed that someone was giving him, plagueblade. The disgusting stare of the the man was turned only at him standing apart from everyone; the golden Heroic Spirit could undoubtedly see that. A lowlife's gaze is equally lowly and filthy. Being poured by this gaze is a disgrace for a nobleman. To Gilgamesh, who claims the title of king more than anyone here, Plagueblade's ill manners was almost uncomfortable.

"Who gave you permission to look at me that way, mongrel." Gilgamesh said, the treasured swords and spears suspended in mid-air around him suddenly shifting their focus towards the other man, only for an explosion to shake the facility. The baying of countless demons reached his ears and Gilgamesh was forced to turn his attention to this newest threat. Mindless things that he doubted could even be reasoned with. This time, he aimed the blades up above the group, shooting right through the roof and carving out an entry by himself. He immediately leaped up to the top, to survey the incoming horde and chuckled to himself.

"What a disgraceful sight. There should be a limit to deplorability." he told himself, searching the multitudes of creatures for any that stood out. He can let those below him deal with the weaklings. As the only heroic spirit here, he at least had some obligation to cull the numbers through destroying the leaders of this demons. Blades appeared in the space around him again before shooting out towards a Cyberdemon and the Spider Demon. He'd be surprised if the weapons didn't kill them outright, but even if they didn't, it was almost immediately a declaration of a challenge. He only needed to wait if they would accept it.

She frowned at his response. But the man, despite his considerable abilities, appeared to be just as technologically stunted as the blue clad person she was talking to. Cyree once more decided to sling the Machine Gun until she had more time to figure it out it's arcane workings. She turned back around to once more speak to the Sin'dorei. Cyree began making a sign when the distant shouting and rumbling of the Doom Guy's rampage echoed into the corridor they were in. Cy quickly made the sign "Danger" before putting her helmet back on. She drew her Mattock assault rifle and ran to the door on the other side of the corridor. She dashed to the wall next to the portal and pressed her back up against it. With her rifle at the ready she peeked around the corner for any incoming Daemons. To her dismay a few, some having retreated from the maniacal Doom Guy, were running at the group. Something seemed off about these monsters, though. Something besides the fact that they were, well, monsters: They looked to be digital creatures made manifest. How could this be? What is going on here?

"Incoming!", she shouted out to her companions. She threw a biotic singularity into the center of the group of demons. It did nothing against the low resolution demons as complicated physics like that didn't exist in their world. But the hail of metal did have meaning to them. One Demon was gunned down producing a crudely textured bloodied corpse. It wounded the other demon and grazed the last.

Lord Plagueblade then ran ahead to cut apart more of the two-dimensional beasts. The poison dripping from his scythe did not coagulate on their beings because of their flat frame. Was it some sort of sorcery or were these things only exist in two dimensions? Regardless, it would be of no help to them. He would slay them all if he must.

The Demons, running on such simple and dated A.I had no capacity to feel fear, and so simply kept on pressing onwards without hesitation even as they were being cut down. What they did have however, was a problem with friendly fire and in-fighting. Their basic target priority abilities meant that each demon focused entirely on the last thing to cause it injury, including one another. Those rendered on Doom 3's engine seemed to be more capable of avoiding such incidents, but their pixelated brethern had no such luck, and due to the tightly packed nature of their...angry mob formation...started to fire into one another as the natural results of firing into such tightly confined spaces so densely packed with their own kind demanded; rapidly started to break down into an amusing display of internal conflict even an Ork would find to be ill-disciplined.

The archviles however, seemed able to force the demons to focus on a target, and what's worse is that they were capable of reviving one another and summoning up new demons all while keeping up a steady barrage of summoned columns of fire and teleporting to wherever they were needed. These creatures, though not quite as physically imposing as the likes of the Hell Barons, were perhaps the greatest threat due to the shoot the medic first principle. Dealing with these horned fiends was a must, especially as they could constantly bring back the Spider-Demon and Cyber-Demon, and had already managed to summon two more of each to try and keep the odds in their favor to some extent even as vast numbers of their kind were mulched.

Cyree Altius, literally and metaphorically, was throwing back the demonic Hordes. Mattock fire and her considerable biotic powers saw the monsters pile up along the corridor in a large heap. However, such heavy usage of her biotic powers was taxing to the Asari. Already sweat drenched the clothing under her armor and stung her eyes. She licked her lips of the sweat that had accumulated there and fired off another singularity power tossing around demons and the unlucky Unggoy that had made his way in there in the confusion. This triggered a migraine which shattered her focus. The Asari forced her mind back into clarity, reloaded her rifle and killed a few more demons. Some freshly resurrected. But still they came at the alien. She looked back at the black, sinister being and said, "If you wouldn't mind I could use some help".

Id'rael spun, casting a roiling wave of flames towards the flat demons, Destructor decimating the waves of aliens coming towards him. He turned to the Mon-Keigh. "We will have to find another through, there are just too many of them." He pulled out his shuriken pistol, gunning down a pair of demons, before pulling back, their bodies torn apart by the miniature shuriken.

The two psychics opened fire with a sigh as more demons popped up seemingly from thin air, all manner of cackling beasts between sprites and less-blocky sprites, only to be caught by bolt and bullet as the foresight of the psychics alerted them. Hepps and Rynn opened fire a split second later, both having learned to trust their partner's gifts a long time ago. The Eldar spoke as it too fired, the words lost in the maelstrom of gunfire. Authrix's advanced hearign heard Id'rael, however, and laughed.
'Are you suggesting falling back, Eldar?' His words were punctuated by the deep boom of the Bolt Pistol in his grip. 'I think we're only just getting started.' The air ahead of the Librarian seemingly shuddered for a brief moment, before exploding in a miasma of multicoloured lightning, arcing from demon to demon. The gunfire didn't cease.
'We can push through.' Hepps growled, snapping off more bolts. 'Keep on them.' Confined in the corridor, the demon's numbers meant little to the advancing humans. Authrix drew his chainsword, the serrated edge glowing with etheric light, as Arfiel and Rynn drew their own swords. Still firing, still grinning. Hepps sidled up to the Eldar as they walked.
'Stay or go Eldar, it's your call. But they're not about to back down from this.'

*cutting down more things*

Id'rael threw a wave of flame at the oncoming Demons, scorching the paint off the walls of the corridor. One stepped over it's 2D brethren, it's superior AI and it's 3D rendering protecting it from harm. Being three-dimensional doesn't make you tougher though, and so it died in the same manner as it's flatter cousins, just taking up more space as it died.

This is seriously beginning to irritate him. While Gilgamesh had graced the presence of the demonic horde with the phantasmal weapons that he really didn't want to waste so carelessly, there was something about their unending numbers that caused more annoyance than they're worth. The people below him were able to hold their own but at this rate, there's a chance they would be overwhelmed.

"Ridiculous. I did not intend to open up my treasury this much." he muttered quietly to himself, the distorted glow of the space around him beginning to grow in size and intensity.

"Ig-Alima." Gilgamesh said, snapping one of his fingers.

Instead of a barrage of weapons, what came out of the rift in space was a single, gigantic blade almost seemingly completely made out of stone. In terms of size, the bladed edge could fill out an entire stadium of people.

There was a quick pause before he let it fly, ready to make a sweep into the demonic horde, not discriminating between the various types of creatures that lay within it.