The column of rhinos rolled down the street, engines growling like a predator that has cornered its prey. The sun was just beginning to rise over the ruins of the city casting a red glow over the already crimson hulled transports and bombed out, crumbling buildings alike.
Sharidine, the city the transports now cautiously moved through was a shadow of its former self. The once majestic white marble buildings were now collapsed in on themselves, and the streets themselves were shattered and fragmented. Bodies lined the streets and hung from windows in various states of decay. Though each and everyone had a look of the utmost horror locked on their faces. Those that still had their faces anyway.

The inhabitants of the rhino’s were on edge. They had come to this world bordering the Great Eye expecting to find a city ripe for plunder, its inhabitants vulnerable to enslavement, and even a lucky few mortals who would be someday elevated to the status of Brass Butcher. Instead, Lord Valen; master of the Brass Butchers Chaos Marines found himself and his chosen retinue rolling through a charnel house, an all too familiar sense of corruption ripe in the air.

The rhinos turned onto a wider boulevard, and spread themselves out before grinding to a halt. Smoke billowed from the exhausts stationed at the 4 corners of each tank as the engines idled. A hatch on the rhino farthest to the left slammed open, kicking up puffs of dirt as it hit the ground. Brass power armored figures with blood red trim piled out and spread out in a defensive cordon on the left flank of the three tank strong convoy. The sun peaked over a building and briefly illuminated the red cleaver on each of their shoulder pads, a symbol of their allegiance.

A rock tumbled down a rubble pile, accompanied by a grating voice set to transmit to all squads. ‘Havocs in position’, right flank secured. One of the bolter bearing marines turned and raised a fist in acknowledgment at the squad of similarly armored auto-cannon bearers opposite them.

The same voice returned again, ‘No contacts my lord.’ it grated. A new voice, impossibly baritone, and cultured like that of a Terran aristocrat responded. ‘No. There’s something here. I can feel it. Something evil has made sport of this world. It has cost us slaves, and new recruits. It will pay.’ said Valen. His voice never changed in tone, a cold fury kept in check by an iron will.

The havoc commander was about to respond when the wind began to whisper. It carried with it a message. It spoke of doom, and rapturous suffering. It spoke of sensations no mortal could ever hope to taste. It was a giggle, light and feminine. At first it was alone, tinkling like glass against stone. Then it began to multiply until it seemed to come from all around.

‘Prepare for battle.’ Was all Valen had to say. The engines growled, smoke billowed and a great roar went up from the berzerkers still fuming in their own transports, the urge to create carnage pounding through their veins.

'Targets!' voxed the havocs commander, quickly followed by the roar of heavy caliber weapons fire. Shell casings littered the floor after several seconds of sustained fire. The last few shots living on in echoes that bounced from ruined building to ruined building. Eventually the echoes died away and the marines were rewarded with a shriek of something inhuman, followed by a pop as though reality had momentarily been torn asunder.

Lord Valen heard this all occur over the squad vox, and seeing his retinue twitching with suppressed blood-lust made a decision. 'All squads.' he said, voice resonating with authority, 'advance'. He smiled under his horned helmet as his berzerkers redoubled their anxious movements and knew that the squad in the neighboring rhino would be doing the same.

The daemon infesting the transport spoke through the speakers implanted in the walls of the rhino a few short moments later. 'Enemies spotted my lord.' the voice hissed, a wistful tone evident in its voice, obviously jealous of the troops that would soon leave its interior to wreak havoc on the enemy. Something the daemon had been unable to do for centuries.

'Disembark' was all Valen had to say before his troops stormed out of the barley opened side hatches of the transport. His men made to round the corner and charge towards the enemy, when Valen spoke again. 'Wait.' they froze where they stood, fury and bloodlust ripping through their systems. The desire to rend flesh from bone almost undeniable. Almost. They knew the cost of disobedience in the presence of their master.
And so they waited, limbs twitching, chainswords idling, for the enemy to come to them.

Daemonettes giggle, the sound carrying out on the wind, and the berzerkers not standing with their lord can stand it no longer. They break cover and pound towards the offending squad that was even now dancing and pirouetting their way towards their position, An explosion rips through the daemon ranks, while their bolt pistols speak ripping several of the fragile looking things to shreds. Their feminine bodies, rainbow hued and backward jointed, appear as though a soft wind would break them. Their pincer dominated arms say otherwise. The two forces collide in an orgy of violence.

The fight lasts 30 seconds, and in that time several of the slower marines lose their head to razor sharp claws striking like lightning. Chainswords roar in reply and the daemons are cut, and bludgeoned to the ground. Their mewling forms swiftly finished by boots crushing skulls or point blank pistol shots to the face. As one the unit screams their victory. The champion of the squad raising his mace, green arcs of electricity playing over its surface, high into the air.

Valens unit charges in to assist the marines who had come under attack by bipedal monstrosities that beheaded, or trampled with every move. The champion begins to gather his squad to assist their lord. And then reality tore asunder. Great purple rents floated several meters off the ground, scattered across the battlefield. From these rents pour more of the daemons they had just vanquished as well as more of the creatures valen found himself struggling to survive against.

The champion snarled in pleasure under his helmet. Now battle was truly joined.

The daemons begin their advance on the berzerkers and their champion. The madmen roar out their defiance and meet the tide head on. as the two forces collide, the champion sees for a fleeting moment an impossibly beautiful, blue hued creature with flowing white hair brandishing two swords that appear to be made of the very stuff of the warp itself. then it is gone and the horde is upon them. The daemonettes smash into the front of their line. Several men are too slow and are lost instantly to scything claws while the rest find themselves in a deadly dance with their lives hanging by a thread. The battle reaches a stalemate, for a precious few seconds before a beast of muscle and pure hatred barrells into their flank. One of the creatures he had seen his lord engaging. The havocs had thought them neutralized and the champion swore he'd kill them for their laxity if he survived this. But as more men were pulled down he realized how big of an if that really was.

Suddenly a roar of absolute fury tears across the battlefield, casuing the champions very bones to vibrate. Valen charges into the fray knocking several of the daemonettes flying as he wades into the melee, two handed power maul smashing heads and banishing daemons with every swing. A dark mist radiates off of him an he roars 'Blood For the Blood God!' The blood rage had taken him. This battle was dangerously close to becoming a slaughter.

Valen laid about him like a man possessed. He crushed skulls, and shattered limbs, spurring the men around him on to greater acts of violence. Men Slaughtered the daemons around him, but were in turn cut down by impossibly fast pincers and slicing claws. The champion, his squad cut to pieces around him, fought with the zeal of a fanatic. He swung about him in mad arcs crushing anything that came near him. His weapon became lodged in the chest of a falling daemonette and was jerked from his hands by her death spasms.
Having lost his bolt pistol at the beginning of the fight he turned to his hands. With the superhuman strength of an astartes, albeit a corrupt parody of one, he lashed out and shattered the leering face of the nearest enemy. He caught her by the throat as she fell and set about choking the life from her. As the light died from her eyes and a grin of triumph split his lips, so too did a grin form on her face as she died. A shadow fell across the champion. Before he could turn, he found his world shifting as he was lifted off his feet by impossibly strong grips. One about his neck the other his waist. He roared his rage even as the fiend, for what else could reduce a berzerker of khorne to such helplessness, began to squeeze. The champions body sheared in two as his head bounced away.

The creature turned to find something else to kill, and only had time to blink before its head shattered as Valen slammed his weapon into its face.

The marines that Valen had saved watched, trying in vain to pick out targets from he swirling melee. The fight parted momentarily, giving one of the men a target. He slowed his breathing and prepared to snap off a shot, when a voice whispered in his ear. 'What are we looking at?' it asked. The marine whipped his gun around, bayonet spearing towards whomever had spoken. The blade thudded home in an ludicrously delicate looking, blue hued shoulder. The marine attempted to call over the rest of the squad but all that came out was a gurgle. Glancing down, the marine saw a blade of pure energy stabbing through his neck seal. The figure, perhaps beautiful but made ugly by the shadows cast by her blades light, leaned in and pushed him to the ground with a smirk. She held a finger to his lips as he weakly reached out to her, throat gurgling uselessly. Without a word she turned and danced her way towards the remains of his squad, lithe body twisting and contorting in ways nothing mortal ever could. Every move promising an eternity of suffering.

Valen looks about him, disgust wrought on his features. His men lay dismembered about him, the few surviviors of his retinue bleed from countless wounds, while he himself can barely stand upright from blood loss. The final daemonettes circle him, waiting to strike, their infuriating giggle constant as ever. Valen hauls his weapon to his shoulder, ready to make one last charge when a chorus of the damned shrieks its song of excess. The ground shakes as Valen turns,a look of rage replacing the disgust as yet more of the bipedal monstrosties bear down on him and his men. The Daemonettes launch themselves forward, cutting down distracted berzerkers, while the fiends themselves lay into Valen. They smash into him, crushing his chest armor and sending him flying for several meters. He crashes in a heap of rent flesh, broken armor, and shattered ribs. He tries to push himself to his feet, a spasm of pain was his reward alongside a plug of blood that he spat angrily on the inside of his helmet.

The pain was too much with the blood rage dissipated. Darkness rose to meet him. The last thing he saw before black became his world was the fiends charging towards his remaining marines fighting for their lives against the leader of the daemon horde.

Those same marines, having each failed in turn to harm the daemon lord, finally struck as one. Their combat knives lashing out from several angles to ensure the creature had no where to go. The first missed as the daemon spun out of the way, balancing her wight on a single clawed toe. The second she rolled under as it raced for her heart. The final she never saw coming. The first she knew of it was the searing pain that filled her skull as the blade pierced her eye, the tip poking out the back of her head. She only had moment to hiss in pleasure before the wind picked up, and her form came apart, to be carried away like grains of sand caught in a storm.

There was no time for celebration however, several more of the monstrousfiends were bearing down on their position. The flamer bearer yelled a warning before a plume of purple black flame erupted from his dragon barreled weapon bathing their newest assailants in flame. His two remaining squad-mates brought their own weapons to bear, and the bolters chattered ripping great chunks out of the flame blackened fiends hides. Several hundred meters away, the havocs guns lent their fire to the fray, their weapons tearing off limbs and tearing through bodies. By the time the creatures charge hit home, only a single one remained alive.

The fiend launched itself at the marines, body aflame, and skeletal structure exposed in several places. With a speed that belied its size it lashed out and took the flamer bearers head in a shower of blood before spinning on the spot and spearing its tongue through the eye piece of the marine to its left. The man stood there, dead but kept upright by its murderer, body spasming as its brain registered death. The creature took a second to drink it in. And in that second, the remaining marine place his bolter to the side of its head and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed around the ruins, followed by the thump of dead weight hitting the floor. The marine made to start his march back towards the transports when a groan caught his attention. His bolter was up in a second, combat senses still on edge. He only lowered it when he saw Lord Valen pulling himself to his feet, blood congealing on his already crimson armor. He hefted his power maul over one massive shoulder and began to limp towards the marine.

Valen hurt. Everywhere. But pain meant he was alive, and for now that was good enough for him. A single marine hurried over to help him but Valen waved him off. 'Are there any other survivors?' he asked, surveying the carnage around him. Dead marines lay everywhere, of their attackers there was no sign. In response to his masters question the marine simply pointed. Following the gesture Valen was able to see as the daemonette that had rushed the Havocs was clubbed to the ground and had the life stomped out of her. Valen nodded in satisfaction, and marine in tow began hiswalk back towards the awaiting havoc and rhinos.

This world had been a waste. They came looking for slaves and recruits and instead found death and nearly defeat. No matter. There were plenty of other worlds in the ever softening Imperium, all ripe for plunder.