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Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Wed Feb 20, 2019 1:13 pm

'You did it Karmen,' said Tathe turning to the psyker. She didn't respond but kept stepping, due to the servos of her power armour Tathe was sure. A chill blasted through Tathe, he hoped he hadn't got her killed. He met the gaze of the nearby Vark and pointed to Karmen. Vark nodded and began to approach her. With deft hands he took off her helmet and Tathe felt a shiver of shock through him as he saw the blood which coated her face from the nose down. Vark felt her pulse.

'She's alive, unconscious, but alive,' said the stormtrooper. 'I will call up a medic.'

Tathe nodded.

It was then the Greater Daemon of Khorne smashed amongst its servants with the force of a bomb. It hit the hill about fifty metres to the left of the Imperial advance, crushing countless Resurrected under its huge bulk, all they could do was cry out being too packed in to even attempt to get out of the way. Then it rolled and crashed down the hill, throwing up what must've been tons of sand into the air in its wake. Its roars and bellows as it rolled and rolled were...surprisingly human, Tathe could hear, pain, anger, but most of all, and most surprisingly...embarrassment or humiliation. Half a second later its wings fell amidst the Resurrected, crushing even more.

Tathe's attention was torn from the fallen daemon by the familiar, throaty barking of a bolter to see a Space Marine of the Raven Guard standing amongst the Resurrected, his shots scything through them, exploding heads and torsos into red mist and chunks. Any Resurrected unfortunate to get close would be treated to the heel of the Space Marine's boot or the butt of his bolter. The Marine threw out a round kick which sent three Resurrected flying away completely broken, before decapitating another with a flick of his knife.

The Sovrithans, Dantian included, bellowed, 'KALAKOR! KALAKOR!' And exploded into fighting on with breathtaking fervour.

How had this Kalakor got down here? Had he somehow ridden the daemon down? That was the only explanation Tathe could think of.

Finally the daemon came to a halt by smashing against the tower with such force the reinforced rockcrete cracked outward like an instantly built spider web. The Bloodthirsters hoofed feet were flung up almost comically. The daemon was far from dead, but Tathe had never seen such...a creature be brought so low and so humiliatingly.

A thought struck Tathe and he looked back to Kalakor and his slaughter. Had the Raven Guard used just that knife to cut through the daemon's wing? The knife may have been a short sword for a mortal, but for an astartes it was well...a knife.

Even with all his weight, strength and momentum from the fall that shouldn't have been possible, Attelus less so due to wielding a powersword, let alone a mastercrafted one-

The roar of engines drew Tathe's gaze upward and to the Guncutter as it hovered about fifty metres above.

'Air support is here,' said a melodic, arrogant voice over the voxlink. 'Allow me to lend some hands to your effort commissar. Or shots, to be more accurate. A frig ton of them.' The deafening cacophony of heavy bolters and lascannons tore an incredible fusillade through the massed ranks of the Resurrected. Almost instantly tearing a huge, straight gouge toward the tower's entrance.

Tathe raised his sword and swiped it down. 'Advance!' he roared.

As the Imperials, now running high on morale, moved onward, Tathe caught a glimpse of the lone, grey parachute falling and weaving toward the Bloodthirster as it was snarling and snorting and writhing the remnants of its wings, it seemed to shake its gigantic head to regain its equilibrium, another strange human-like mannerism.

Attelus wasn't...He couldn't be...

Kalakor had also moved a fair ways towards the daemon by then, slaying and slaying all in his way with inhuman ease.

'By the Golden frigging throne,' Tathe managed and pointed. 'Provide that insane little fool cover fire now, frig you!'

Attelus hoped the daemon's fall would be enough to restrict enemy attention away from him and his parachute.

And by the Emperor it seemed to have worked, no las fire or anything flew his way. Not yet, anyway. Nonetheless he still zigzagged down like sergeant Starkeren of Enandra's Stormtrooper corpse had taught him.

But in all honesty, this whole frigging insane scheme shouldn't have worked in the first place. He'd known the second it'd started how the Bloodthirster had stopped rising, but had tried to ignore it. Not just that but she hadn't just stalled its flight but, perhaps, even managed to pin back the daemon's limbs. He'd been callous towards it, but he couldn't afford to be, it was the corruption getting to him. It was the corruption making him take such insane risks. It was the corruption causing him to feel the rush of battle more than ever before. He needed, needed to regain control of himself.

Yet now here he was, about to fight a greater daemon, he'd regained control but it was too late to back down now.

Attelus unclipped his harness about two metres off the ground and dropped. One Resurrected, a Sovrithian, looked up at the shadow growing over him just in time to take Attelus' feet in his face, his neck snapping with a crack which somehow overrode the chaotic cacophony of battle everywhere around.

The man was flung onto his back and Attelus' power sword sliced twice to take the heads off two others. He hit the ground and ducked a cultist's whining chainsword a split second later. Attelus' diagonal slice went from the attacker's hip then out his shoulder.

Another cultist swung down a chain axe which Attelus sidestepped. Before the cultist's axe even hit the sand, Attelus' round-house kick smashed the Resurrected's ribs into splinters and as the cultist was flung off his feet, Attelus turned his round-house kick into a side-kick into the cultist's face.

Attelus sliced through the chest of a Velrosian as she drew back her bayonet to stab, then reversed the cut to slash a Marangerian stomach open.

He fought the urge to laugh, he fought it far harder than he fought and killed the Resurrected coming for him. They seemed to be turning all their attention for him, as through the hive mind leading them knew he was the one who came up with the plan which laid their champion so low. Or for billions of other conjectures Attelus didn't even want to start speculating on. That was good, the more pressure on him meant, perhaps, less on the Imperial advance But they couldn't bring their numbers to bear on him as Imperial covering fire swathed through them, mostly focused for enemy ranged fighters and Bloodletters. Attelus was just glad that Tathe had seen him, as he hoped he would. But even so, sooner rather than later, he'd be overwhelmed if something didn't happen. He briefly wondered if he'd become one of them, if Faleaseen's owning of his soul would make him immune. He hoped so, as the Resurrected version of himself would slice a bloody, bloody swathe through his friends and allies.

Bolter fire turned at least a dozen of the Resurrected advancing on him into clouds of blood and bone chips.

In the next split second Kalakor was advancing by Attelus' side, firing his bolter from the hip. Attelus couldn't help hiss a curse beneath his breath: in his enthusiasm he'd forgotten to grab some sort of automatic gun from the Guncutter which would've proved invaluable now.

'Took you long enough,' said Attelus as he drew his autopistol and added his pitiful shots to Kalakor's.

Kalakor's reply was lost as the Bloodthirster's roar eclipsed every other sound and it climbed to its hooves. Its hate filled cylindrical eyes were plastered on Attelus and Kalakor, its snarling snout rippled and blood tinged saliva drooped from its yellow teeth.

The familiar ice hot tentacles of fear sprouted from Attelus' heart and throughout his entirety. Yet he welcomed it, embraced it like a lover her hadn't seen in an eternity. It'd seemed he hadn't realised its absence until now. Attelus knew fear more intimately than any other human he knew. He knew fear was one of the most important facets of being human. Perhaps it was his earlier moment of self-awareness which brought him back from the brink? Perhaps...perhaps it wasn't blind faith or even a severe level of willpower which was the anathema to corruption? But it was the wisdom of knowing oneself?

Despite the onrush of fear Attelus stood his ground.

Then the Bloodthirster sent out its whip for Attelus and Kalakor, stretching the one hundred or so metres between it and them in a millisecond and slicing through the dozens of Resurrected in the way...

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Sun Mar 10, 2019 5:10 am

Jelket now advanced with the rest of the throne agents. They surrounded Karmen in an escort formation as Halsin tried his best to treat Kamen's wounds as they jogged down the hill in the middle of the Imperial Guard ranks. Jelket's, Vark's and Helma's Hellguns as well as Hayden's longlas were dedicated in their firing arcs in taking down the daemons, while everyone else held their shots back. But even still their ammo was nearing empty.

He tried his very best to keep his attention away from the breathtaking battle going on between Attelus, Kalakor and the daemon.

And he tried to fight the tears in his eyes.

'Battle' was too stronger word as it was impossible for his eyes to follow, but he didn't have to see it to know all they were doing was holding it off. Sacrificing themselves for the Imperials advance.

'Get a hold of yourself, Jelket,' snarled Vark.

Vark's words did anything but as the tears poured unbidden down his face.

'For frig's sake,' said Vark.

'We should help them,' said Jelket. 'We can't let them face alone.'

'Don't be stupid,' said Vark. 'Don't be frigging stupid! We can't fight against that and besides...'

'Besides what, Vark?'

Vark's reply was just a grimace.

Jelket repeated his question.

'Just shut it, you idiot,' said Vark.

'Show Jelket some respect, Vark,' snapped Helma.

'What? You standing up for your boyfriend, Helma? Or you just letting yourself get controlled by sentiment for that shit Attelus? Screw you, the Imperium of Mankind isn't what it is today because of sentiment.'

'And it's a shitty hell hole,' said Torris. 'Maybe it could use a little more sentiment.'

'Frig you,' said Vark. 'You dare you question the God-Emperor's vision? I should shoot you for heresy. Leave them. Leave that idiot to his fate. You hate him too, Torris why are you standing up for him?'

Torris sighed. 'Believe me, Vark. I find Attelus obnoxious, that there's something wrong with him and leaving him and the Space Marine is...logical, but...'

'But what?'

'I-I don't know. I don't want to help, but I don't know...'

'I-I don't want to fight that thing,' squeaked Delathasi. 'I really don't.'

'Why are we even debating this?' said Vark. 'Stop talking, and keep moving!'

'W-we can't-' said Jelket.

'Frig in hell, Jelket,' said Hayden. 'That...boy has just made mistake after mistake after mistake. He manipulated us into working with Xenos. He is responsible for the deaths of billions, an entire world. He's insane, he thinks he's some kind of immortal, he deserves this.'

'Wait? What?' said Halsin.

'You're just pissed you weren't the one who led this mission, Hayden,' said Helma.

'Frig you,' said Hayden. 'You frigging bitch. And frigging right I should have been put in charge!'

'No you shouldn't have,' said Verenth. 'Because you're an arsehole.'

There was a long pause and Hayden's pale face turned bright red.

Verenth didn't wait for a response as he began pushing his way toward the fight.

'Where in the God-Emperor's name are you going?' said Vark.

'Where the hell do you think I'm going, genius?' said Verenth over his shoulder.

'You're just going to get in the damn way,' growled Hayden.

Verenth ignored him.

Jelket smiled and was the first to follow. Then it was Helma, Torris and Delathasi.

'You won't do anything,' said Vark. 'You're throwing away your lives!'

'An Emperor botherer like you should know,' said Helma. 'Only in death does duty end.'

'I'm going too,' said another familiar female voice which echoed with strength and authority and Jelket turned to see Karmen had regained consciousness. Her bright blue eyes intense against her blood smeared face, her bolter unclasped from her power armour and in hand. 'I cannot use my powers now but I can sure as hell lend my firepower to the effort.'

'And I can't let my patient go alone without my help,' said Halsin.

'Y-you're nuts,' said Hayden in the strongest outburst of emotion Jelket had ever witnessed from the sniper and it caused him to hesitate in his step. 'This plane... it's getting to you!'

'No,' said Jelket. 'Its getting to you, Hayden. And Vark, too. So screw the both of you. Attelus maybe far from perfect, but he's a good man and maybe one day, he'll be a great one and after everything he's done and been through he deserves our respect and maybe...admiration. So, good luck in storming that damned tower. Good bye and good frigging luck.'

With that he turned and began running toward his certain death without even a split second of hesitation.

Tathe's voxbead crackled to life in his ear and Karmen's voice came through.

'As you may have guessed commissar, I am awake. You and your men may run for the objective.'

'Sir!' said Dellenger, pointing and Tathe turned to see that most of the throne agents were running away from the rest of the advance. Straight for the ludicrously fast melee between Attelus, the Space Marine and the daemon.

'What in the damned warp are you doing?'

'We are helping Attelus,' said the psyker. 'We cannot let him and Kalakor fight that Bloodthirster alone!'

Despite already assuming this, Tathe still couldn't help drop his jaw.


'Do not worry about us. Just get you and your men to the tower.'

Tathe couldn't find a response, he never imagined that agents of the Inquisition could be capable of such camaraderie.

Or such foolishness.

'Don't go! We might need you-'

'This might be the last time we speak, commissar. The Emperor protects, Tathe,' said Karmen then she cut the link.

He couldn't help let out a growling curse through clenched teeth, but he decided not to argue anymore.

'Go! Go! For Sovrith! For Elbyra! For the Emperor!' he yelled, sword held aloft as the Guncutter overhead slaughtered all in their way from above and he and his fellows ran into Emperor only knew what was waiting for them in that cursed tower.

It was almost impossible to believe, but it was reality, here he was fighting perhaps the most dangerous creature of all, Attelus didn't know what a Bloodletter was but he had a good idea of what a Bloodthirster was. After his utter defeat at his father's hand, he shouldn't have been so ready to engage such a horrid monster and yet here he was dodging, darting, weaving and sometimes being forced to subtly parry its constant, constant barrage of blows. Everyone of them more than capable of smashing him into paste with even the smallest touch. Desperate fear and adrenaline thumped through his every millimetre. His every breath burst through his oesophagus out of his mouth with such force it felt like he was breathing out a lung. And they exploded between his ears it was like a bolter firing right beside his skull.

Through this utter chaos of struggling to survive split second after split second Attelus had completely lost track of Kalakor. He hoped the Space Marine was still alive. He hoped Kalakor had some way to defeat it.

Attelus could never defeat it, not in a million years, to last even this long, however the hell long this was, was amazing in itself.

Then something happened, the daemon let out a laugh and somehow it was more horrid than all its roars combined.

'You are a tenacious little perpetual, are you not?' it said, the daemon's voice echoed with rage and bloodlust, but yet...yet it sounded almost friendly, affable and spoke with an intellectuality which took Attelus off guard. But what took him off guard even more was that the daemon had stopped in its assault.

And that he no longer stood upon blood sands, but in a bright white void of nothingness.

Unable to reply as he struggled for breath, Attelus bent over, hands on his knees. But his gaze was locked on the huge daemon as it towered over him.

It smiled. 'I am Kharkartskar, the voice of my lord and master, the greatest god of all, Khorne. And upon his behalf. I merely wish to speak to you, little perpetual.'

Her bolter blasting, Karmen stopped in her advance, her jaw dropping and Kalakor seemed to reel back.

The Bloodthirster and Attelus, had gone.

Disappeared into nothingness.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Fri Mar 15, 2019 7:39 pm

'What?' said Attelus.

The daemon smiled or at least it may have been a smile. ' ultimatum to be more precise. You can either pledge you allegiance to the blood god, or I will just slaughter you and you will become his servant either way.'


Kharkartskar shrugged. 'If you give your soul it will allow Him to grant you strength. Did you ever wonder why it was always cultists that could match you? That received his blessings?'

'No...not really. I was...too busy trying not to die.'

Attelus couldn't help wonder, why in hell was he treating with this abomination?

The daemon's snarling maw grimaced.

'Then you are a fool.'

Attelus just shrugged.

'You may be a fool but you do not mindlessly worship that corpse-like rest of your kind.'

'I worship no one and nothing,' said Attelus, defiance echoed through the white void despite the fear throughout him and the bemusement. 'And I prefer it stays that way.'

Much to Attelus' surprise, the daemon let out a chuckle as dry as the desert. 'Even if you will be given the power necessary to defeat your father?'

Attelus didn't reply.

'Even if you will be treated to a lifetime of slaughter? To be free from the constraints of your Imperium and free to kill and kill and kill. You enjoy killing-'

'I don't enjoy killing, daemon. Don't presume to know me.'

'Oh but I do, little perpetual. The warp knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself. You are a murderer through and through. You fight nought for the anathema nor the foolish, transient realm which you call The Imperium of Mankind. You merely fight to sate your bloodlust. For the joy of the fight. To test your martial prowess against a worthy opponent. Is that correct?'

Attelus couldn't help grimace as the words kind of swept through his mind.

'I fight to bring Etuarq to justice,' said Attelus. 'To make sure his conspiracy is ended!'

'And if you pledge your allegiance to my master, he will make sure you have the necessary power to accomplish that.'


The daemon laughed again. 'You do not still think that he is in service to us? You truly are a fool. He is our enemy as much as he is yours. But that is just your ulterior motive. Once all have joined under my master's sway they will leave unto the stars and spread slaughter and the Blood god's blessing and with you at the fore as His mortal champion!'

Despite everything, Attelus couldn't help scoff as he began to circle the daemon and it started to circle in turn. 'Champion? If your "god" knows me more than I know myself: it'd know that I'm a shit leader to say the very least.'

'Champion and leader are not the same thing, fool. The former general, Tathe will act as the army's commander as well as his son, the commissar.'

Attelus straightened. 'Will they be immortal out there, too?'

'No,' said the daemon and Attelus hoped it would elaborate, but it said nothing more.

'So, if I pledge my allegiance now; I will be given enough strength to kill my father, right here? Right now?'

Kharkartskar grimaced and the remnants of its wings kicked out in what may've been irritation. 'I explained that already. Your father humiliated you, defeated you with contemptuous ease. Wouldn't you love to inflict such agony upon him? Crave it?

Attelus' cheek twitched, in all honesty, he did, he really really did. That bastard deserved it and more.

'All He wants is that you forever provide skulls for his skull throne and constantly spill blood to sate his never-ending thirst. And maybe Khorne will provide you with some much-needed intellect as well.'

Attelus shrugged. 'With respect, daemon, this is a rather large decision I have to make so I have to make sure to confirm everything.'

The daemon laughed, a roar of bloodlustful mirth. 'I suppose that is fair enough. So, what say you?'

'Farseer Faleaseen already has my soul, daemon. It isn't mine to give.'

'Indeed she does. The utter stench of that witch's magic radiates off you. But she is nothing compared to my master as He will wrench away your soul for himself as easily as a mortal takes a breath. You will gain power beyond imagining, maybe power enough to one day defeat me. Give yourself unto Him, or I will make you.'

'Hmm, why is Etuarq such a threat to you and your all mighty master?'

Kharkartskar sighed. 'That you do not need to know. You will know all when you give yourself to Him, that I assure you, little perpetual.'

'Do you know where Etuarq is, then?'

A roar bellowed out of Kharkartskar's maw and he sent his whips screaming for Attelus. Attelus danced aside all of it and reactivated his powersword.

'I'll take that as a no, then,' said Attelus.

'You test my patience fool,' said Kharkartskar. 'And you do not wish to test it further. That I assure you.'

'Oh, I believe you,' said Attelus. 'But I feel that is the only complete truth you've said so far, Kharkartskar. Well, beside something else...'

The daemon grimaced. 'What else?'

'You said "us"' said Attelus.

Kharkartskar growled through his razor-sharp teeth. 'What? Stop wasting time, fool!'

'You said, "you do not still think that he is in service to us." It isn't just your master involved in this, is it? But the other...things, too. What could make Etuarq such a threat to force you to join forces?'

'It is not just Etuarq,' said Kharkartskar. 'It is not just him. Something else lingers. It is...'

Kharkartskar shook himself and grimaced in obvious distaste. 'Foreseen.'

'W-What else lingers?'

'Enough!' bellowed Kharkartskar, while stomping a hoof toward Attelus and swiping down his huge axe. 'Renounce your foolish loyalty to the eldar witch and the corpse which you so insist on calling "Emperor." Kneel before Khorne and receive His blessings and all will be revealed to you. Do it now!'

Attelus grinned.

'W-where did they go?' said Karmen as she and the rest finally managed to fight their way to stand beside Kalakor.

'"Where did they go, lord," said the Space Marine, his attention was fixated on where Attelus and the daemon had disappeared as his body seemed to slaughter any enemy nearing enemy like it was on autopilot.

Karmen couldn't help sigh and roll her eyes. 'Where did they go...Lord?'

Jelket and the others spread out to set up a perimeter

'Hmm,' said Kalakor as he magnetised his bolter to his hip and reached out a huge hand as if to touch the sky. 'That was sorcery.'

'S-sorcery? I sensed nothing. I thought the servants of the Blood god hated sorcery.'

'Exactly,' said Kalakor. 'You are a psyker, a powerful one, but you have not delved into the art of sorcery.'

Karmen pouted, unwilling to admit that she had used sorcery to implant the seeds in the minds of Taryst's men which allowed her to read their thoughts easier. Then later control them to use as cannon fodder against the Space Marines invading their base.

'And what? You have?' she said.

'I have,' said Kalakor as his thumb curled and seemed to tear into reality like it was made of parchment. 'I have indeed.'

'What! Do! You! Mean! No?' Kharkartskar screamed.

'It means what it means, daemon,' said Attelus.

'You are faithless! You are a heretic in their eyes, yet you still insist to pledge your allegiance to them and their foolish Imperium?'

'No,' said Attelus. 'I would rather just defeat my father and his master on my own merits, I've already been just given enough strength. Besides, I would be betraying the faith of my friends and comrades and I will never do that. Never.'

"Given" was too stronger a word, Attelus neglecting to mention the utter, utter agony he had to endure to gain his enhanced strength, speed and reflexes.

'Then you really are a fool!'

'Am I? Am I really? I don't know, selling my soul to chaos seems pretty frigging foolish to me,' said Attelus. 'Anyway, if it doesn't truly matter whether I pledge my soul to him. Then why haven't you killed me, yet?'

'I already-'

'Those rules seem...superfluous. Too limiting for what you call a "god," daemon,' said Attelus. 'It might be somewhat true due the evidence, but the "evidence" could just be a clever ruse. A...manipulation and you have already hinted that it isn't just your master involved in this.'

Kharkartskar didn't reply, just watched Attelus as he circled.

'You know what I think,' said Attelus. 'I think that I have to pledge myself to...Him or else my perpetual soul is immune to becoming His. I'd rather turn my...less than good side to something constructive. To be its master and not let it master me. So screw you and screw your frigging god.'

Attelus' was off footed as the daemon suddenly threw back its head and bellowed out a laugh. 'Maybe I was wrong, maybe you are not a fool. Or less of a fool than we had thought. You are correct in your observations, little perpetual.'

Kharkartskar clapped a slow, contemptuous clap with his gnarled, curled claw hand on the handle of his whip. 'Ahh but you neglected something. This place along with the...manipulation was a gift from Tzeentch. This place is a realm created by him, a prison to entrap a soul...a perpetual soul. Forever. If only you had given yourself to Khorne, then you would have been spared this fate.'

A fate worse than death, Glaitis' voice echoed through Attelus' head.

Cold fear beyond the point of freezing grew throughout Attelus. His teeth clenched together so hard it felt like they'd fused. Why hadn't the daemon told him this before? But something within Attelus screamed Kharkartskar was telling the truth.

The sound of cracking came and the daemon's and Attelus' attention snapped to its source. A few metres away the white was slowly, slowly tearing asunder.

'That would be your "friends",' said Kharkartskar. 'But their effort is for nothing, you will be long dead before they penetrate the veil.'

Then Kharhartskar was on Attelus, the huge axe smashing down for him.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Sat Mar 30, 2019 7:25 am

'Where did they go?' Adelana cried. 'Where did he go?'

'I have no frigging clue,' snapped Darrance. 'Shut it and get yourself under control, calm your damned farm and all that crap, damn it.'

Adelana shut it, mostly out of bemusement for Darrance's strange colloquialism.

The beeping from the scanner drew Adelana's attention to it. 'We've got more ships coming on us,' she said.

'Yes I got that, how many?'

'Twelve. From the south-east, will be on us in a few minutes.'

'Great, just frigging great.'

'What do we do? The Imperial force still hasn't reached the tower. If we run...'

'Damn it. I was hoping that would have more time,' said Darrance then he started to flick switches.

'W-what are you doing?'

'Putting more power into the shields. If you wish to abandon ship to look for Attelus, now would be the right time.'

Adelana gaped as the implication seemed to sink into her pores. 'But we-'

'I am sure the Eldar will be able to extract you from the surface once they arrive. No offence but with your skill set you will be far more valuable down there.'

Was that a compliment? An actual, albeit backhanded, compliment from Darrance? They were as rare as-

'But without being able to manoeuvre, you'll...'

'Oh I know young Adelana,' said Darrance. 'But before I was recruited to become an assassin I was a pilot and well...I would rather go fighting from a cockpit, than with a sword in hand. Now go, go now, before it's too late.'

Despite herself, tears welled in Adelana's eyes and she found herself giving him a salute.

'Emperor be with you...Darrance,' she said as she began for the door.

Darrance snorted. 'I do not need the Emperor. As He does not need me.'

Tathe's microbead crackled. 'This is the pilot of the Guncutter. There are twelve enemy ships inbound, so my cover fire will be minimised so I can hold them off. I'm sorry. And Throne Agent Adelana is about to parachute down to you, so please give her cover fire.'

It took Tathe about half a second to gain the breath to reply. 'Got that...What's'

'Darrance, commissar.'


There was a weighted pause. 'Saderth Gocrillian Darrance.'

'Thank you...I will...make sure to remember you and your sacrifice, Saderth Gocrillian Darrance.'

There was a pause.

'You are aware there is a thing called an ejection button, commissar?'

Tathe smiled, choosing not to point out that Darrance would be landing smack bang in the midst of hordes upon hordes of the Lost and the Damned, most likely without support or anything.

'Good luck...You snarky son of a bitch.'

'Thank you, good sir. I will take that as a compliment' said Darrance. 'And do not worry about me. I...have a...tendency to get out of insurmountable situations miraculously, with nary a scratch. Out.'

Then Darrance cut the link and Tathe couldn't help shake his head.

All of these Throne Agents were such...characters.

Tathe looked where the other throne agents, but they were lost among the sea of Resurrected.

He frowned and fixed his attention forwards again. The tower was only a few hundred metres away now. This was the worst time to let distractions rule him. He can only hope they would somehow make it.

They weren't bad. For agents of the Inquisition, anyway.

Without Kalakor, the Bloodthirster's attacks were even faster and harder than before. Every split second was a battle to keep from being pulped.

Attelus wanted to roar, to rage against the unfairness, the injustice, but it took all his will, his concentration just to survive. He couldn't win, every dodge, dart and parry was just delaying the inevitable.

Kharkartskar was silent, no roaring, no bellowing came from its grinning maw. Skill and speed fuelled its attacks rather than the ferociousness of earlier.

Attelus couldn't help think that this was the real Kharkartskar that the baying beast of before was just an act.

Attelus was forced to leap back from a downward axe bash which sheered into the floor but didn't bounce or smash into whatever the flooring was made of.

The daemon's whip flew for him and Attelus dodged aside the first then the tails seemed to gain a life of their own and they wound and flicked his way.

He clenched his teeth and was a blur like never before as he slipped and slid and weaved through it.

Then Kharkartskar was on his flank, the daemon's huge axe sweeping in a diagonal cut.

Attelus managed to duck it and his weary weakened limbs made him stumble another few steps. The axe reversed into a downward diagonal smash, Attelus jumped back and his foot slipped from him and he fell into a kneel before rolling aside another vertical blow.

Every millimetre of him was as covered in sweat as he was in fiery pain. Attelus knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. Attelus slipped to his knees again.

Kharkartskar loomed over him like a titan of legend.

'I offer you power, I offer you the gift of purpose,' it said. 'Instead, you choose an eternity of suffering

With a roar, Attelus lunged.

Kharkartskar managed to tilt his head aside enough so Attelus' sword cut through its cheek instead of its head.

Attelus landed just in time to dash aside the daemon's axe swing and he leapt back to get some space.

It was then he realised Kharkarskar was laughing. 'A good try, little perpetual. You almost had me there. Although such a blow would not be enough to kill me.'

Attelus couldn't answer, he could barely breathe.

'If it were up to me I would never have offered you this honour, this gift. You are a-'

'I'm a...fool...I But...I'm...still a...fool who...managed to clip...your...wings and...hold'

Kharkartskar seemed to sneer. 'Only because you received aid from the twice traitor and that witch.'


'That Space Marine that you have so foolishly placed your trust in...'

Kharkartskar trailed off in its sentence and a smile creased through its wolfish features. 'You are stalling. You almost had me there, little foolish perpetual.'

Attelus grimaced, hoping he'd hear more about Kalakor.

'But maybe...maybe you are not as foolish as I thought. Only a little, as your refusal of Khorne's gifts, is foolishness beyond even the imaginings of Tzeentch himself.'

In the next microsecond, Kharkarskar had launched into attacking Attelus again. But before that Attelus managed to steal a glance toward the tear in the air.

It was halfway open. He had to keep going, he had to fight on.

Adelana hit the button to open the airlock and the buzzing klaxon alarms began their shriek as the door began to open. She hated that shriek but now seemed almost...almost a friend. She was going to miss this ship.

'Good luck, Darrance,' she said. 'If you won't accept help from the Emperor, maybe you will from fate itself.'

Then she threw herself out the airlock and fell for the crowd below.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Sat Apr 13, 2019 9:06 pm

Dellenger pointed to the sky as he ran, firing flurries from the hip and Tathe looked to see the dot falling from the back of the Guncutter.

There wasn't much the Imperials could do for Adelana now, so Tathe just told Dellenger to keep an eye on her and the Guncutter. But there was only about twenty metres between them and the tower's entrance.

He didn't know whether the young woman would be able to land in time to join them. He didn't know this Adelana well but she seemed a good person and he hoped she wouldn't be slaughtered-

Tathe slid to a stop as did everyone else as they saw it.

Blocking their way was a crowd made up of the Resurrected of their closest friends and comrades.

There was colonel Quatrat, the leader of the Marangerian regiment, and the other colonels including Vonlet. Vonlet looked every bit the aristocrat his name implied, he was the middle son of the lord of the province Freldreth in eastern Velrosia. But his personality was anything but aristocratic. He was always friendly, encouraging. He'd been like a mentor to Tathe over the years, the propaganda had always high lighted Tathe but it really should've been about Vonlet, he was the true tactician, the true leader. He always led from the front, it had been that reason he had died so early in the peace. There was Valketh, but worst of all...

Adreen, she stood smiling at him, the horrid scars on her face were gone, replaced by her old beautiful visage.

Tathe had wondered when she would appear among the number of the Resurrected and had suspected that his father was using them as a last desperate line of defence to resort to such psychological warfare.

Pathetic psychological warfare. Tathe had killed countless upon countless people he had known for a long time, for so long he had become numbed to it.

This move, this just made the enemy's desperation even more obvious and Tathe knew now Adreen was no longer Adreen just like Valketh was no longer Valketh and Vonlet wasn't Vonlet. All that mattered was the killing.

No! All that was important was moving on the objective. That was important.

Tathe raise his laspistol and put a round right through Adreen's forehead. She seemed to show a split second of surprise before she fell onto her back. The look almost made Tathe slightly regret it.

There was a long pause as the Resurrected looked down almost seeming shocked by this.

The silence was destroyed by the Imperials letting out a roar and opening fire.

Tathe roared along with them and raised his sword aloft as he saw Vonlet's face buckle and mould as a las round burst out the back of his skull. As Valketh's torso was torn into shreds by numerous shots.

Ignoring Dellenger's look of horror, the commissar started to run again and about half a second after, his men followed. He heard the same, usual bellows of: 'For the Emperor!' among the others, but he also could've sworn that he heard one or two bellows of:

'For the blood!'

And: 'For Khorne!'

It was Hayden Tresch who'd put that las round through colonel Vonlet's head and smiled as he did so. He looked important and he was a sniper, assassinating leaders was his bread and butter and he was better at it than anyone else. Better than the frig wipe Attelus, he was better at everything than Attelus.

He continued to shoot, not bothering with accuracy anymore. Inquisitor Enandra hadn't bothered to think when she appointed Attelus in charge, why should he bother to be professional in his shooting any more? Why should he serve a woman, an organisation which didn't see his ability, his potential. He had thought the Inquisitor was different, better than his old master, Glaitis. Glaitis had been a ruthless manipulative bitch, but she had always seen his seniority, his skill. After he had joined Enandra he had been pushed into the background. Usually seconded into a support role for the likes of Attelus or even that lowly, ex-magistratum shit, Arlathan frigging Karkin. Arlathan Karkin who'd for some reason beyond Hayden, been chosen as Enandra's Interrogator.

Actually that wasn't true, Hayden had seen Arlathan...improve, a lot, over the past three years. He had become a highly competent agent and leader. Arlathan had never been much of a...

Hayden shook away the thoughts. He was a leader, he was the best. The best at everything, why should he serve someone who cannot see that?

Why should he serve a 'god-Emperor' who couldn't see that either? He gazed up at the falling figure, the falling figure which was just then opening their parachute.

Hayden raised his long las and gazed through its scope. It was the beautiful young woman Adelana she rode the wind currents with quite a bit of skill.

She was abandoning Darrance. Just leaving him to die with along the Guncutter and the mindless servitors. He could easily pull the trigger now, cause Attelus more pain at the loss of his little girlfriend. He doubted he could do it without-

'What are you doing?' said Vark, causing Hayden to lower his gun and turn to him. He couldn't help be taken aback by the accusation in Vark's gaze.

'Just checking on whoever it was parachuting to the ground,' said Hayden. 'It's Adelana.'

Vark's eyes narrowed and he looked like he was about to say something when they heard the roar of heavy bolters in the sky and they both looked to see the Guncutter was streaming shots. One ship exploded into a ball of fire which spun and whirled down and crashed into a building, collapsing it into pieces. That one was followed by another and another, but deep in his bones Hayden knew it wouldn't be enough.

Hayden supposed Darrance to be closest he had to a friend after the loss of Castella, after his escape from the Adeptus Arbites so long ago.

Hayden frowned, he could only hope his old friend would make it.

He couldn't have cared less for Adelana. Frig her. Frig the little bitch.

Adelana was around fifty metres below the Guncutter when the shooting began and watched with baited breath. It was too fast for her to follow in detail, but she saw the explosions as Darrance shot the ships out of mid-air. One was transformed into a ball of whirling twirling fire, like a comet or a bomb and came right for her.

Adelana chocked back scream as instinct made her turn a millisecond before it crashed through her parachute. She couldn't help watch it as it passed by and smashed into the tower. The impact seemed to shake her very soul, but the ship just became nothing against the adamantium surface and barely left a frigging mark.

She turned back to Darrance and his fight, her heart shuddered her entirety. Adrenaline made her hands shake so hard she could barely keep hold of the handles of the parachute's controls. The cooling fans in her bodyglove couldn't begin to cool her or stop the sweat which covered her as entirely as her bodyglove. The Guncutter pivoted left and right, left and right. Sometimes it would swivel thirty degrees or more, its lascannons and bolters tracing after an attacking craft.

Some of them would just disappear in flashes of fire, some would careen and twist like the first one. All the while the majority of the heavy bolters issued blast after blast down into the Resurrected below.

But by the throne! The worst of it was the sound! The frigging sound! The shrieking and roaring of the flyers, the hovering jet engines, the bashing bellowing of the bolters and the 'tswuu! Tswuu! Of the lascannons mingled into a cacophony which she couldn't begin to describe. I was like nothing she could've imagined. It was like the roar of a god of unimaginable power in the heights of unimaginable agony. It was a frigging miracle that her eardrums hadn't exploded into nothingness.

All the while the Guncutter writhed beneath enemy fire, explosions and countless munitions shimmered and sparked across its void shield.

A void shield which Emperor- and Darrance- only knew how much longer it would last for.

It took all of her willpower to tear her attention away and down to the advancing Imperials below.

Adelana bit her lip. They were advancing far faster than she thought possible. They were nearing the tower's entrance fast.

Way too fast.

A lump blocked Adelana's throat.

The exhaustion frigged up Attelus desperate parry and his sword was flung from his hands with such abruptness, it exploded away like a gunshot. Even still, if he wasn't far beyond the point of exhaustion he could've snatched out and caught it.

He stumbled back an amount of steps he couldn't begin to count and fell onto his arse. His body heaved and shuddered in its struggle to give him another breath. He shook, by the Emperor did he shake and the bile kept rising from his throat the very second he would swallow it.

'That's it,' said Kharkartskar. 'You are finally done. By the Blood God that should not have gone for such a long damned time.'

The greater daemon of Khorne raised its huge sword and without any words swung down.

A figure almost faster than Attelus' eye could follow darted in and it sent the daemon's smashing sword sweeping off course.

The figure seemed to materialise into view, its back facing Attelus as three other black figures fell on Kharkarskar.

Attelus' relief shattered into tiny pieces throughout his chest.

'I hope that you didn't think you had rid yourself of us, son,' said Serghar Kaltos over his shoulder.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Mon Apr 22, 2019 7:28 pm

Karmen was down to her last clip, but Kalakor seemed almost done all the while he the bellows of his bolter went in rhyme with hers. She couldn't help wonder how a simple line sergeant could have learned such complex sorcery and she came up with many differing and wild theories.

And none of them were good.

For how long they had stood, surrounding Kalakor and keeping the Resurrected at bay she could only take an educated guess at and with how much of her psychic strength had returned, at least a couple of minutes.

She stole let another glance at Darrance and the Guncutter above and whispered yet another prayer for him and the void-craft. She also gazed at the slowly falling figure beneath the parachute and wondered if anyone else in the group had noticed her. It was Adelana and she was heading straight for the advancing Imperial Guard. Which was a mistake as they were so very close to fighting their way towards the tower.

Karmen clenched her jaw and gave Kalakor a look. He was almost finished so she couldn't land in time with them either-

Then an idea hit her, she could save Adelana but...but should she? This could be a great way of...getting rid of her and with her dead, Attelus would...

No, that was wrong, despite everything Adelana was a good person allowing her to be torn to shreds would be a horrid act then she would join the Resurrected number. And besides, they needed all the help they could get. Even if it would make it she couldn't use her psychic power against whatever was waiting for them through the portal.

Karmen reached for her microbead. 'Adelana! Can you hear me?'

'I can...barely, Karmen,' came the young woman's reply, shouting over the wind and the horrid roaring of the dog fight above.

'I need you to unclasp your parachute.'

'What? Say again, please? Did you just ask me to unclasp my parachute?'

'That's exactly what I said, girl. Don't worry, I will use my telekinesis to slow your fall and bring you to us. Now you must do it, now! We are running out of time!'


'You just have to trust me! I know we do not get along but now, now you must. Please.'

Adelana sighed. 'Okay.'

Then she did.

Despite her initial determination not to scream, Adelana couldn't help but shriek so loud it hurt her throat, her lungs. Her arms seemed to gain lives of their own as they flailed about like they believed they could somehow make her fly.

The blood covered legion below her grew and grew by every split second. But as it seemed she would smash into them and explode into tiny chunks, they seemed to grow a little less. And less until she stopped completely, her feet hanging over the heads of cultists. They noticed and looked up at her, there was a second of alarm on their faces, then they began to raise their weapons.

But before they could shoot everything was morphed into a blur as Adelana swung almost horizontally toward Emperor only knew where. She screamed again, the terror swirling and making her kick and writhe.

'Adelana it is me! Please stop struggling. I can barely keep hold of you.'

Adelana furrowed her brow and gritted her jaw and took control of herself. She straightened, pushing her feet together and her arms against her sides.

Then before she knew her feet hit the sand and she was flung on her side. A strong hand wrapped around her arm and hauled her to her feet, but she was so disorientated she couldn't find a clue who it was. Even with his distinctive dark-skinned features. He grinned down at her and said. 'That was one hell of a ride, wasn't it?'

All Adelana could do was nod and her mind seemed to somewhat find itself. 'T-Torris?'

'That is me,' he said. 'It's good to have you back young Adelana. But I'm sorry to say we've gotta move!'

Before Adelana could make a response Torris hauled her over his should and was running. Then the sky and the crowd around her was gone.

Karmen and Kalakor were the first through the portal. Side by side, they lunged into the strange dimension, bolters raised. It took Karmen a few seconds for her head to adjust and they both lowered them at what they saw.

The Bloodthirster was fighting three- no four figures. It was far too fast for Karmen to make out any detail, but she knew it was Serghar and his lackeys. She had no idea why they were protecting Attelus.

Sitting not far away was Attelus Kaltos, his back was to them as he watched on. His exhaustion was almost palpable even from metres away.

Kalakor was moving, his heavy boots crunching and rocking the floor as he fired from the hip at the daemon.

'Get the boy!' said the Space Marine through the vox.

The sheer power of Kalakor's voice made her run toward Attelus, not daring to shoot at the daemon for fear of it making its attention turn to her and that she might accidentally hit one of the enemy agents.

'Attelus!' she cried. 'Attelus.'

He only turned his attention to her on the second cry of his name. Attelus looked up at her and she couldn't help slip to a halt, he looked like he must've been fighting for days upon days. His face utterly beaded with sweat. His long brown was hair soaked through and even messier than normal.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him, the relief of seeing him alive was almost overwhelming. But she-

'Attelus!' cried a voice and Adelana ran past Karmen, fell into a kneel and crushed him into a hug. Attelus was so exhausted he couldn't pat her back or even smile.

Verenth and Halsin walked by and separated Attelus and Adelana. They then picked up Attelus and placed his arms over their shoulders.

'Kalakor!' Karmen yelled. 'We've got Attelus. We've got to go!'

Kalakor nodded, broke off his shooting and started back toward them. 'I have closed the portal,' said the Space Marine. 'I will open another, it will allow us to get into the tower.'

'How?' said Karmen. 'And why didn't you do that earlier?'

Kalakor shook his head as his finger began to tear into the air. 'I was not within a strange range. That tower is...warded. This dimension is beyond space and time and the immaterium so it is far safer to do it here than in than anywhere. But even still it is a risk. And we will not be able to get in far. Those fools will hold the daemon off as we escape.'

'Wait,' said another voice and Torris stepped past. He had slung his shotgun over his shoulder and was carrying his meltagun. 'I'm going to try this.'

Before Karmen could reply he was running a few metres from the horrid melee he stopped and raised his melta. Seeming to wait for an opening.

'Torris! Wait!' said Karmen about to follow, but Kalakor's raised hand stopped her.

'Let the fool go if any weapon we have that can hurt the daemon it is that melta... But we cannot risk you-'

The Space Marine was interrupted as Delathasi, Jelket and Helma sprinted by. Helma and Jelket firing their Hellguns and Delathasi joined the horrid melee.

'Emperor damn it,' said Kalakor. 'They are just going to get in the way!'

Karmen agreed but she couldn't do anything but watch. Her marksmanship wasn't good enough and her psychic power drained for now.

All they could do was wait and hope and pray.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Thu Apr 25, 2019 8:45 pm

Despite being in the midst of the whirling, chaotic melee and smashing and bashing with his precious, now empty long las. Hayden still managed to see the little bitch fall then suddenly be taken like a child's hand snatching up a doll and fly a long way. That was Karmen, it had to be her using her telekinesis to bring Adelana to them.

Lucky little-

Hayden's commlink beeped into life.

'Hayden,' said Darrance.

'What in the hell do you want Darrance?' Hayden roared as he smashed in the top of a Velrosian Resurrected's skull. 'I'm in the middle of a frigging battle here!'

'I'm sorry, to avert your attention, old friend, but just let me speak. We have worked together for a long time,' said Darrance. 'Over twenty years now. You have been a good friend, a good colleague. You must have saved me on countless occasions now-'

'I saved you far more than you saved me frig you.'

'...Indeed. Do you remember what that Eldar warlock said? That this world, this planet is infected with chaos. You and I are not the most faithful of the Emperor's...employees, so I think you and I are a bit more liable to be corrupted than the Emperor botherers like Karmen or Hark. And it seems to be getting to you, old friend-'

Hayden screamed through his gritted teeth while kicking a chaos cultist in the chest, cracking in his ribs and sending him flying back.

'Just do not let it get to you, don't let it take over you,' said Darrance. 'You are stronger than this, Hayden. I know it. Just try to gain control of yourself. Hayden? Are you listening to me?'

'Yes!' Hayden shrieked while cracking the butt of his rifle into the side of a Resurrected's skull. He just wanted Darrance to frig off now.

'Alright, alright. I am sorry to distract you. But I'm going, to be honest with you. I don't think I'll make it out of this alive. That after all these years old friend my luck has finally run out. So you take this as my last will and testament. My last words. Even if I do somehow live. You got that.'

Hayden grimaced as he blocked a stabbing bayonet with his long las.

'You get that?'

'Yes! Frig you! Yes!'

'Good, now good luck. My old friend.'

Darrance cut the link.

Hayden scowled and continued to fight. He cursed Darrance's name with every strike and block and parry.

For how long he kept doing this was impossible for him to know.

Just as he didn't know how long it took before the Guncutter exploded.

Torris stood, meltagun raised as he searched for the opening he needed throughout the blurring melee. He only had one shot if he frigged it up, the daemon would be on him in a split second.

Not just that if he accidentally hit Serghar or one of his minions, or Emperor forbid, young Delathasi, it might not have enough power to try damage it. She must've been pumped up by combat stimms to be able to keep up with them. He couldn't help wonder how long those drugs would last.

He couldn't tell which blur was which, but that didn't stop Jelket and Helma from blazing away with their Hellguns.

'Stop,' said Torris over the vox link. 'You two just frigging stop.'

'What?' said Helma. 'Why?'

'I don't know what the frig has come over you, you might hit Delathasi. In fact, you're frigging lucky to not have his her already. And your shots are doing less than nothing to that daemon. Not just that but you might draw its attention to us!'

'Well,' said Jelket. 'I'm kind of hoping I might accidentally hit Serghar frigging Kaltos. You know?'

'Yeah, but what about Delathasi? This world isn't corrupting us, but making us stupider, too. No wonder the arch enemy use such crap tactics and are so damned undisciplined.'

Helma and Jelket grimaced, yet still lowered their weapons.

'What are you going to do, anyway?' said Helma. 'That daemon was taking lascannon blasts straight to the face not long ago. I think we should just let those friggers fight the damn thing and escape through Kalakor's portal-'

'That is lord Kalakor to you, ma'am,' said Jelket.

They exchanged looks then burst out laughing.

Torris waited for their deluge of laughter to finish. 'You saw how the flamers hurt the Bloodletters? A meltagun is just a far more concentrated and powerful flamer. It might hurt this one more than a lascannon. Hopefully.'

Both Jelket and Helma grimaced and exchanged glances. 'I am aware of that, Marcel,' said Helma. 'But a lascannon is concentrated laser. It's hot too, you know.'

'I know that,' said Torris. 'But I don't know the flamer could be symbolic or something. I think beyond the Ordo Hereticus using it to kill heretics. Frigging Imperial Guardsmen knew this better than us, apparently.'

Jelket shrugged. 'We're Ordo Hereticus, not Malleus. Daemons aren't our purview.'

Torris sighed. 'Yeah, I know and mores the frigging pity. We should've been more prepped. We should've had a blank in our team at the very least.'

Torris changed the channel before they could reply. 'Delathasi. Disengage when I give you the word.'


'Even if you somehow manage to kill it,' said Helma. 'How do you know it just won't be back in material space in a few minutes?'

Torris grimaced and clenched his teeth. 'I suppose I,' he said.

Verenth managed to tear his attention from the battle to the limp almost lifeless form of Attelus Kaltos. He frowned.

'You awake?' said Verenth.

Attelus muttered a barely audible, 'yes.' And nodded like a badly controlled marionette.

Despite himself, Verenth couldn't help smile. 'History repeats itself, eh? Remember how we were in this situation three years ago? Except it wasn't me and Halsin, but...but...'

Attelus suddenly wretched, leaned forward and vomited so violently Verenth couldn't help fear he might be going into spasm.

He waited for Attelus to recover himself and spit out the rest of his bile.

'Hayden said something interesting,' said Verenth. 'That you believed you were immortal or something. Is that true?'

'I do, although I have yet to die to...find out...proper,' said Attelus. 'Are you...asking if when...I promised that when...we are...finished with this you could That I knew...then and was manipulating you?'

'Yeah,' said Verenth, his gaze fixed on Attelus. 'I don't know if I want to still do that anymore. I see the bigger picture now. But I still need to know.'

Attelus laughed or at least tried to as it came out as wheezing. 'That's more...than...fair enough. And more...than fair would of...that. Me...being me...after all.'

'Did you or didn't you?'

Attelus looked at Verenth, clasping their gazes together. 'I swear, Verenth. I didn't find out until later of my immortality. I'm sorry, I destroyed yours, Arlathan's and Adelana's home.'

He looked at her and she focused her beautiful blue gaze his hazel and tears began to well in his eyes. 'I failed at stopping them destroying it. I failed in defeating my father. And now I can't even keep this promise to you. I'm sorry, Verenth.'

Verenth couldn't even begin to think of a response, so he looked to Kalakor as he slowly opened his tear in this 'reality.'

And frowned.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Fri May 31, 2019 2:27 pm

Tathe reloaded his laspistol for what seemed the millionth time and blasted a flurry from the hip, taking down about seven Resurrected charging for him, all of them seemed to have Adreen's face but he ignored it. Did his father think him so sentimental? So pathetic? He was an Imperial commissar, maybe he was a nice one, maybe too nice. But he'd never baulked in the service of the Golden Throne.

He couldn't help flinching a little, but not because of his parrying the chainaxe of a Resurrected then impaling him through the chest, but because he had realised that wasn't true. He'd baulked from rebelling against Serghar and his cronies.

Well, now he would make sure that wouldn't happen again.

Without the covering fire of the Guncutter, they had slowed down to a jog but that hardly mattered, the entrance was only ten or so metres away.

'Sir,' came Dellenger's voice over the vox, but Tathe ignored it. 'Sir!'

Tathe decapitated a Velrosian sergeant as he lunged at him with a chainsword.

'Sir!' yelled Dellenger.

'Whaaat?' Tathe roared as he cleaved a cultist's skull down the middle.

'You're laughing.'

Tathe hesitated in pulling the trigger of his laspistol at the Despasian guardsman charging him with a bayonet, so Dellenger cut him down with a single shot.

He was right. How the hell didn't he know that?

'Sir, you're losing it. You and everyone else.'

Tathe roared through clenched teeth as he sliced across the armoured chest of a charging Sovrithian NCO. He wanted to tell Dellenger to shut up. That he was an Imperial-frigging-commissar and he had no right to speak to him with such egregious disrespect.

But he held his tongue and he didn't know why.

'Listen to me, sir,' said Dellenger. 'Don't let this get to you. What would Adreen want?'

'Adreen would want us to reach the objective!' Tathe snarled. 'She would want us to slaughter all in our way! Why do you have to ask such inane questions now of all times?'

'Yes,' said Dellenger. 'But would she want you to lose your soul in the process?'

'Lose my soul? What a load of ridiculousness.'

'No!' said Dellenger and Tathe couldn't help flinching. 'Don't talk like that. You know it's not...You know it's not.'

'Shut up,' said Tathe. 'I am a killer, Dellenger. You are too. Don't think for even a second that we are human. We will reach that tower at any cost, no matter who or what gets in my way. Are you getting in my way, scout trooper?'

There was a long pause, so long that Tathe hoped the scout had actually: "shut up."

'You're right, sir,' said Dellenger. 'It's so true that we are able to kill even while we debate philosophy. But isn't that all the more important that we keep that last small sliver of our humanity? We were humans first before we were shaped into killers. Unlike Space Marines, we never gave up our humanity in His service. Not completely, so we should treasure what we have left and hold onto it until death. This is the precipice, sir. If you keep going on as you are, the corruption will take you and everyone else who fight along side us.'

Tathe clenched his teeth, unable to find any way to argue with the scout. Even from the founding, Dellenger had known things, things that no normal trooper should know. About the Xenos, the daemon. Tathe had wondered why, but he neglected to push it as his father had always seemed to accept it, even having the scout as an advisor on these matters. It was Dellenger's knowledge which had allowed them to know that fire was so effective against daemons. His almost inhuman fighting skill was also...out of the ordinary.

The commissar snarled a silent curse as he decapitated yet another enemy. Dellenger was right, frig it!

He just hoped it wasn't too late to be able to come back from that precipice.

Tathe glanced at the men around him, the few left he had fought battle after battle with over the years and from their insane smiled and screams of blood lust, a mirror if the Resurrected's own.

And tears welled, thick and swirling all through his gaze.

But it was then that the large double doors into the tower suddenly grew and Tathe ran through and the first to finally step inside the objective.

Torris, Helma and Jelket watched on. Helma's and Jelket's earlier amusement had melted away replaced by utter awe.

For Emperor only knew how long Serghar and his cronies and Delathasi fought the daemon.

The speed, the inhuman skill which Jelket's gaze couldn't even follow made him clench his teeth. There was nothing he could do if he tried to fight with them, bayonet fixed, he would just get in the way. If he tried to shoot, he might just hit one of the freaks. Something he wouldn't regret, but it might just allow the daemon to break free and attack them.

Jelket managed to tear his gaze from the fight and to Torris and wondered when he would finally fire his meltagun and most importantly; how the hell Torris would know when to shoot.

The man had always struck Jelket as strange, being so dark skinned but apparently hailing from a hive world. How he could read people so preternaturally well. How he could be so calm, rational and detached about some things, yet so anger-ridden and almost hateful about others. He was a contradiction of the highest order.

Jelket's vox bead beeped into life.

'Everyone, regroup,' said Karmen's voice. 'It won't be long until Kalakor has penetrated the veil, we must be ready.'

'What about Delathasi?' said Torris. 'We can't just leave her. This might be our only chance to destroy this daemon.'

'I will call her when we are about to leave,' said Karmen. 'It will be up to her to make it. Torris, you have to-'

'No, screw you!' said Torris. 'We have to do this. I have to do this. Let me try!'

'It's fruitless, Tor,' said Karmen. 'We are just going to leave Serghar and his...agents take care of it. You don't know whether your melta will make that much of a difference, didn't you see how the lascannons of the Guncutter did almost nothing? Get over here, now!'

Torris clenched his teeth.

'Do not...worry, Torris,' said Delathasi. 'This is my function...I...I will stay, although I am slowing...the drugs'

Jelket wanted to say something, but in truth, he couldn't find who he sided with. Again he found himself useless.

'I-' Torris straightened. 'Delathasi, move, now!'

Jelket looked back to the daemon a split second before Torris opened fire.

To Jelket's peripheral vision it seemed to take tens of minutes to travel through the air. Wavering and winding like a pillar of magma but much, much brighter, headed straight for the daemon.

Jelket looked away, to see a blur which Jelket hoped was Delathasi, waver away from the fight. For that whole time and with bated breath, Jelket expected the daemon to move like its enemies. To materialise tens of metres away, or even behind him. It seemed logical. Or at least logical to the illogical rules of this place.

For all his thirty-six years never had he been hit with such a powerful wave of surprise when the melta hit the daemon right in the chest then burst out of its back.

The roar of utter agony which burst from its maw shook everything and Jelket pushed the palms of his gloved hands against the sides of his helmet. But no matter how hard he pushed it couldn't begin to eclipse it. The daemon reeled and rocked, stumbled back then fell into a kneel, stopping itself from dropping onto its face with the top of its axe. Its whimpering and snorting were so pained, so pathetic, Jelket almost couldn't help feel somewhat sorry for it.

Then Serghar and his minions seemed to materialise into unreality, all four of them stood over the daemon and seemed unscathed somehow.

Serghar held a small, simple knife in his right hand and a crackling power sword in his left.

'Ohh Kharkartskar,' he said. 'That is not your real name, but it suffices. You tried, you so so tried. But it's all for nothing. Not even you nor your god-like masters can fight the fate we have been making. And guess what?'

The daemon snorted a response.

'You like my son are...daemonic, this eternal...Or even...perpetual.'

Even from such distance, Jelket could see the blood red eyes of the daemon widen with what may have been fear.

Then, much to Jelket's surprise Serghar sliced the daemon from the crotch to skull with the tiny knife.

The daemon didn't roar but screamed a pitched almost feminine shriek which no creature like that should've been able to do. Then it shattered into thousands of minuscule shards.

Serghar and his cronies turned away and began to approach. A horrible smile was on Serghar's face.

Jelket and Helma managed to get over their surprise to raise their guns on them.

The vox beeped again and Karmen cried. 'Get out of there!'

'Oh lower your weapons,' said Serghar. 'They are useless against us. You, Marcel Torris, I must say you did well, very well indeed. But...'

Torris raised his meltagun, his glare was beyond intimidating.

'You still might have killed me then,' said Serghar. 'And you are a mere nothing in the eyes of fate, so you now must die,'

Helma, Jelket and Torris went to open fire but before any of them could pull the trigger. Seghar had exploded the distance and sliced Torris' melta in half.

Jelket and Helma tried to draw a bead on Serghar, but in the next microsecond Jelket was off his feet his vision spinning, his Hellgun flung from his hands. Then a foot planted on his back, pinning him to the ground.

'For the Emperor,' said Serghar.

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Re: Secret War: Upon Blood Sands Mature Themes- lots of violence, some gore, swearing, all the good stuff

Post by Adrassil » Thu Jul 11, 2019 9:51 am

Attelus' power sword sent Serghar's stabbing blade off course. Then Attelus' round-house kick smashed into the side of the female agent who had Helma pinned. His front kick crashed into the curved swordsman's jaw, which shattered it and sent him spinning and writhing to the floor. Attelus sent out a horizontal slash which forced Serghar to stumble back.

The short-swordsman was about to lunge for Attelus but was forced back, dodging and weaving through Helma's and Jelket's fire.

Attelus deactivated his power-sword and used it as a lean-to to keep his feet. His gaze fixed on Serghar.

'You...petty...son of a bitch!' Attelus gasped. 'Torris saved your arse'

Attelus swayed on his feet but was able to suddenly regain himself, then raise his sword and aim the tip at Serghar. 'You can...cut me...gut me...or anything but if you try to hurt any of my people again. I will use everything within me to stop you...even if you have to!'

Serghar grimaced. 'You are aware your soul will be trapped in here along with that daemons. And forever.'

'I know.'

Serghar's snake-like gaze narrowed and fixated on Attelus'. Attelus didn't flinch. And Serghar's agents regrouped around him. Swords readied. While Helma, Jelket and Torris did the same around Attelus.

After about half a minute Serghar sighed, shook his head and nodded. 'I do not know whether I should be impressed or sickened by you.'

He raised his hand making his agents lower their weapons. 'Your foolish sentiment for your worthless underlings has placed you in needless danger. But you still have managed to make us stand down. So...the ends justifies the means here, I suppose. I am...actually...impressed...maybe even...proud. Excellent work, my son.'

With that Serghar turned and with his agents tailing him- walked away.

Attelus collapsed to his knees and would've fallen on his face if Torris and Helma didn't stop him.

'By the Emperor,' said Torris. 'That took some serious frigging balls, kid.'

'D-did you mean it?' said Helma, her voice in hushed awe.

Attelus laughed. 'If I didn't, my father would've known, trust me.'

There was a long pause.

'Thanks,' said Torris. 'I...owe you.'

Attelus wanted to tell Torris that was one of the biggest understatements in a million years but felt it would be better to remain silent. Besides, he could barely breathe in the first anyway.

Attelus' vox beeped, and Kalakor's thunderous voice echoed through his ear and pulsed his skull.

'The portal is open. Hurry it up; I cannot keep it open for much longer.'

There was a pause, but Kalakor didn't cut the link. 'You did well, Marcel Torris and Attelus Kaltos. You did well.'

Attelus couldn't help curse as he was carried toward Kalakor's portal entrance. It was a literal tear in the air like a knife had sawed through thin cloth. He had no idea what would be lying on the other side of it. That was all the more reason why they needed his blade at the front, perhaps one of the most critical times to have his sword up front, but here he was, beyond the point of exhaustion and frigging useless.

He just hoped Kalakor would be enough. Despite this he couldn't help but smile, he was only like this because he was forced to hold his own against a Greater Daemon, one of the most dangerous, if not the most dangerous things in the entire galaxy. A Greater Daemon which had needed the combined efforts of his father, three of his agents, Delathasi and Torris to take down. At least he could take some pride in that.

Jelket was bridal carrying Delathasi who seemed barely alive in his arms. The stimms and the last vestiges of adrenaline had run out for the young apprentice a long time ago. It was beyond impressive that she could survive against Kharkartskar for so long, even with the help of his father and his agents. Despite it not being too long since his defeat at his father's hands, Attelus couldn't help feel if and when he fought Serghar again, it wouldn't be anywhere nearly as one-sided.

If she managed to survive this mission, she had a bright future ahead of her and Attelus would make sure to recommend she be promoted. And make frigging sure Darrance do the same.

She more than damn well deserved it.

Jelket's gaze met Attelus. 'She really didn't want to fight that daemon, Attelus. But when it came to it, she still didn't hesitate.'

Attelus nodded as much as it annoyed him that she too was unable to help, he couldn't help admire her more.

Kalakor's sigh burst from the grill of his helmet. 'I suppose that I must take point?'

Attelus smiled. 'I thought the mighty warriors of the Adeptus Astartes knew no fear.'

'You dare question my courage. I...' the Space Marine wandered off in his sentence. 'I see, you are joking.'

Attelus nodded. 'Yep. Because...that's what friends do...we joke around and make fun of each other. And I would like to count you as a friend, Kalakor. Could you consider me your friend, too?'

Kalakor studied Attelus before finally giving a slight, almost perplexed nod.

Karmen sighed and rolled her eyes but still smiled. 'Alright enough. We've got to move.'

So everyone turned and began for the portal and Attelus swallowed. Wondering what was waiting for them on the other side.

Tathe stopped as a shivering cold coursed through him. He expected to find another Resurrected horde waiting for them, but it wasn't, not at all.

It was a horde, but it wasn't former Imperial Guardsmen or cultists that stood and sat, packed throughout the vast lobby.

It was the civilians, hundreds of dirty, dishevelled Imperial civilians, most of them looked at him with wide-eyed fear like vermin caught in torchlight.

'What?' said Tathe and Dellenger and many others slipped past him, guns raised to cover the civilians. As far as he knew all of the civilians had been killed during the conflict between the forces of chaos and the PDF before the arrival of Imperial reinforcements. Tathe couldn't help flinching as someone closed the doors into the tower behind them.

These people must be Resurrected, but...yet none of them attacked. They just withered and whined away from the guardsmen like a heard of sheep collapsing from a dog herding them. They did it in such haste Tathe couldn't help fear they might start trampling each other.

But there was very little room for them to move so blocking Tathe and his men from advancing further, at least in any productive capacity.

'W-what do we do?' said one of the Sovrithan troopers. 'What in the God-Emperor's name is going on in here?'

'I-It has to be an illusion,' said trooper Goret, a Despasian trooper, her voice high pitched with fear and her gaze met Tathe's, her eyes pleading for him to agree with her. 'The great enemy playing games with us! It-it's gotta be!'

Tathe knew he had to step up and speak and as he opened his mouth, another voice interrupted him.

'It's a trick!' and everyone turned to find it was the Throne Agent, Vark. 'It's a frigging trick. They are heretics brought back to seem like civilians, so we put off our guard and open to an ambush.'

'What?' shrieked a woman in the crowd and they began to wither away even faster.

Tathe wanted to say something but found he was unable to argue with the throne agent's logic.

'Kill them,' said Vark. 'We need to kill them all, now.'

No one hesitated to raise their weapons - no one but Tathe and Dellenger.

'Stop!' yelled someone and they did lower their weapons and looked to Tathe, and it took the commissar a good few seconds to realise he was the one who'd spoken.

'Stop?' said Dantian. 'What in the God-Emperor's name do you mean by stop, commissar? Even if they aren't Resurrected, they must be corrupted! The can't have been in here for all this time and not be.'

'Then what about us?' said Tathe as he turned to face his men, the tip of his sword pointing at them. 'I...I cannot help believe this is a test, and if we give in and kill them, we'll fail.'

Or pass, he thought cynically.

'What else can we do?' said Hayden. 'They are in our way, and we must move.'

Tathe's jaw twitched and began to lower his sword, but stopped as a thought suddenly hit him. 'I can't...No. I won't let you do this. We are going to push our way through them, that is an order!' There was something strange about this. Why was the door open for them? If there was a time for them to truly kill Tathe and his men it was when they were driving through the choke point of the door. But that could be because his father in all his desperation had thrown all his tactical prowess out the metaphorical door. But Tathe doubted that.

'Frag you,' said Dantian. 'I am an actual officer, not some commissar playing at commander. I am in command here, and I order you to step aside.'

Dellenger stepped to stand beside Tathe, lasgun lowered but ready. He didn't say anything and neither did he need to, as many of the Imperial Guard force flinched back in fear, even a few of the Sovrithians.

'No,' said Tathe. 'If you are going to kill these people you will have to kill me first.'

'When did you become so frigging caring about the civvies?' said sergeant Tegrod. 'We haven't go time for this. We don't wanna kill you.'

'I have cared for a long while, Tegrod,' said Tathe. 'If we knew where they were when we first invaded I would have plead the case to my father to try to help them.'

'Why did we never get told about this?' said trooper Stelkste.

'Because I would always plead in private,' said Tathe he frowned seeing he couldn't appeal to the humanity he decided to try their pragmatism, but he doubted that would work even less.

'Look! We might've been quite recently re-supplied, but we have burned through a lot of that fighting our way into the tower if there's a chance that'

'Excuse me,' said a voice, a voice which was gruff and ravaged by age but yet still projected itself throughout the massive room with the ease of a gifted orator.

Tathe turned to its source, and an old man in what could've been in his late sixties was making his way through the crowd of haggard civilians. He was just as dirty and damaged as the rest so much, so his clothing was unrecognisable but wasn't nearly as cowed or hunched. Tathe figured him some priest of the Ecclesiarchy or a local aristocrat.

'Before you gun us all down on the mere suspicion of us being heretics, would you allow us to speak for ourselves?'

'Depends,' said Tathe, trying to mask his relief, this man seemed far more rational and calm than almost all of his men, but that didn't guarantee anything. 'Who are you?'

'I am Delethain priest of the Ministorum. And I can assure you that I am not a heretic. I have been a loyal servant of His holiness the almighty God-Emperor of Mankind for-'

'Shut it!' snapped Hark. 'Your words mean nothing. Heretics speak nothing but lies. Even if they do not even know it.'

Tathe licked his teeth, unable to argue with the Throne Agent's point there. But beyond the strangeness of all of this, something else was even stranger.

'How dare you disrespect me, young man,' said the priest. 'I am a man of the Emperor; I speak his words-'

'And I am an agent of His most Holy ordos tasked to hunt down heretics, and you forget to acknowledge that we are the ones aiming weapons on you.'

To his credit, the priest showed no fear. 'I do not understand this attitude. What is going on? None of you are of our Planetary Defence Force. Have the Imperial Guard already arrived to fight off the invasion?'

There was a long pause.

'What do you mean by "already"?' said Tathe.

The priest finally seemed off footed as did all of the civilians around him as they exchanged looks. 'We...have only been hiding in her for about an hour. So, will you inform us what is going on out there? And how did you get in? We had the doors closed.'

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