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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 9:37:58 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
The Sanctum Impregnable, that's what these beings had called it - on a nameless world seemingly cast away from all mark or feature of the galaxy - a cold, hard lump of rock unlit by any sun, unreachable by passage through Warp or Webway, but a planet it was, and it had life. Somehow a cult of Chaos had landed there - carried possibly by some great hulk drifting haphazardly through the immaterium before being cast carelessly on course to the planet - an ancient cryo-ship perhaps, it mattered not. The cult had survived on the resources of the ship, worshipping some foul entity of Chaos and being bestowed with gifts - untold generations of deviance and genetic corruption had made mutants of them all, and whatever corruption lay within the Sanctum had accelerated this, making spawn of some, while it nourished the cult beyond what perishable food stocks would allow. The ship's decks had largely been converted to vast, tropical hydroponics gardens, while the cult lived on the other decks and expanded little from the wreckage into the foetid, but passable atmosphere of the rock itself. The Exalted, the highest-ranking members of the cult, sometimes ventured further onto the surface of the world, seeking some sign of native life or resource, they found none - but they had found the sanctum. Far from the crash-site, in a dense, but dead jungle which alluded to some prior, prosperous state of the planet, they had found a cave, wrought from stone and whose entrance was carved in a motif of skulls wreathed in flame, and jagged runes whose image burned the eyes, and caused the Spawn among them to chant, in whatever wet, bubbling foulness passed for their voices, a word. T'karis. The cave held downward steps, which were found only through accident, as the cave held means such as to extinguish light that entered. The Exalted had ventured downward as far as they dared, whereupon the way was lit by some creeping iridesence. The groups that had ventured to the source had told that the steps must have numbered some nine hundred or so, but as they grew tired some outward force bade them to continue, and they were invigourated to proceed. The steps terminated in a facet of silvery-blue metal, lit by everburning torches and carved with faces enveloped in the flames depicted at the cave mouth, while some images showed whithering figures, others half-faded and screaming in dispair - other images, visible only through odd flickers in the light, showed foul creatures that seemed to be random fusings of limbs from creatures both known and unknown, like the degenerate spawn above but somehow more horrific and terrible to behold. Any describing such things shuddered at the recollection and many went mad upon returning from the cave. They had christened the plane of metal and what lay beyond the Sanctum Impregnable, and the Exalted had ventured there on sabbaticals to divine the future of their cult. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.htmlEvery time you twist the background Charax twists the head off a poor defenceless Imperial Fist. Powergaming Kills.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 9:39:47 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
Solme, leader of the Sect of the Burning Eye sat cross-legged at the plane of metal, studying the patterns of flame as he started to enter the trance that would guide him against the other sects of the cult they had formed. His second-in-command, Kosser, was with him, tracing his long thin fingers over the runes that revealed themselves only at certain flickers of the torchlight. Solme was a brute of a man, large and heavily-muscled, with a tired face and tufts of spiny hair scattered across his body. Kosser, by contrast, was a spindly man with a scaly-textured skin and a thin face that hid two snakelike fangs that were concealed in the roof of his mouth. Though bared rarely they dripped constantly with a potent venom to which he himself was immune. Kosser's eyes were bloodshot constantly, and he was one of the few with the gift of runesight that allowed him to see and understand the language of the runes. Every time they had come down, he had uncovered a little more of the inscription, scattered words that were barely legible in the low, uncertain light. His reddened eyes looked intently at at the runes as he spoke: "Ksylakash Akh...Solme, can you see something here?" The burly man looked up, stood and walked in front of his old friend and fellow Exalted, following his finger with his eyes. "Here? I see nothing" Yesss...now... Solme's eyes glazed over as he felt his friend's fangs enter deep into his shoulder, followed by a sharp, jagged knife in his back. A gurgling sound accompanied his forward slump into the metal slab. Kosser's red eyes gleamed with an otherworldly malice born of whatever lay within the Sanctum. Goood....now I can at lassst be free... Solme rested on the slab as his blood ran from the wound emerging from the dagger protruding from his chest. it ran up channels in the silver-blue metal that were invisible before, flowing over bumps and ridges, revealing them to be gemstones and multi-hued crystals. The body fell forward, and ripples emerged as the doorway appeared to turn liquid, absorbing the body into itself. Colour and light flooded the chamber as the slab glowed with clearly visible runes, lit up by the blood shed for it. The liquid parted and Kosser walked inside, into the darkness. The doorway closed again, and an explosion of energy ripped through the Aether soon after, as if triggered by some act commited by the young Kosser. Echoes of it tore through the warp, undecipherable to many who felt it. Some, however, understood the meaning perfectly. Charax's helmet lenses blazed red as he rose from his hibernation on the command throne of his flagship, ancient armour creaking with the sound of twisting, screeching metal. A deep, long hiss emerged from beneath his rust-stricken helmet. "T'karisss...." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.htmlEvery time you twist the background Charax twists the head off a poor defenceless Imperial Fist. Powergaming Kills.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 9:51:02 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
Kosser walked slowly into the darkness, only to have it lifted as if passing through an inpercievable veil. before him he saw a coffin-shaped box wrapped in gold chains, held aloft by more chains affixed to eight-pointed stars on the roof and floor. A small altar was before him, and he stood there staring at a black box wrapped in gold, Goood....you came for me"Yes, master, I have come" I have nourished and cared for your people for all your known history, and for this. you are about to fulfil your society's destiny, now a choice must be made, and then all the power you could ever desire will be yours. be careful, I implore you, a wrong answer and we shall both be sealed here until another can decipher the secret of the sanctum."What must I choose?" Your future, child.Blazing red runes lit the darkness, revealing the sanctum as a large square-based pyramid. slowly more and more runes lit up, until the whole chamber was lit. Thousands of small runes clustered around four massive runes, those of the enemies of myth - Khron, Slaanget, Norg and Hated T'sen. The runes flashed white and began to pulse, great irregular tiles on the walls and floor turned and twisted, some sinking into the walls to make way for others, all movements accompanied with the grinding sound of massive stone slabs rubbing against each other. The rune-covered tiles connected with others, forming macro-runes. Kossar looked around and the sense that the pulsing was becoming harder and stronger imposed itself upon him. The final movements slid into place. *** The Warp. Silent, serene. Coloured translucent waves roll over the greyish ethereal barrier between realities. Untainted by perception the warp as it truely is has an otherworldly beauty. The malevolent gods appear as galaxies in the distance, while the rolling tides of emotion are pinpricked with the light of a trillion souls of varying colours and intensities, barely-visible intangible threads winding through the veil and connecting them to their owners. Suddenly, four rents form in the veil, and the substance of the tides falls through, as if pulled by some strange thing not unlike gravity. one colour is pulled by each, leaving the other tides rolling effortlessly over the holes. They cascade through the veil, ripping through some webway tunnels exposed by the rent, their delicate silvery walls torn apart by the energy before being sealed. The four strands of energy spilled into reality, having been torn through the thinnest areas of the veil, and made their way to their destination, their semisentience guiding them to a goal defined aeons before and activated by the ripple that had just torn through the warp itself. The Sanctum. *** Beams of light emerged from the centre of the four macrorunes, forming a ball of light under the nexus of the pyramid, directly over the Altar. Lie down, child, and see your fate.Kossar stared upwards, his red eye reflecting the swirling patterns and micropatterns in the ball. Mesmerised, he climbed onto the Altar and laid down. With a sound resembling a thunderclap, a stream of prismatic light shot from the ball into Kossar's chest. flesh bubbled at it's touch and Kossar writhed in pain, held in place by some ethereal force. A pulse of energy travelled down each of the wall-streams and down into him, disappearing unside his chest. Something under his skin twisted and coiled outwards from the bubbling flesh, extending towards his limbs. The scales on his back spred as festering patches of skin burst to reveal more. Black, vein-like structures squirmed around his right bloodshot eye, piercing it from behind and becoming visible within the pinkish retina and extending out to the iris. Kossar closed his natural eye in pain, and as he did the lidless mutant eye's iris was pulled and twisted by the black tentacles, forming it into the vertical slit of a reptile. Kossar's neck muscles strained as his back arched, and extra muscles grew in his throat and neck. It extenses as he stretched, covering in boils that popped to reveal more extensive green-brown scales that spread over his face. His head snapped forward to reveal his cyclopean face, one eye entirely subsumed into the larger, horrific mutant one. Screaming, his lower jaw dislocated and distended, warping his scream into an unnatural screech. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.htmlEvery time you twist the background Charax twists the head off a poor defenceless Imperial Fist. Powergaming Kills.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 9:52:02 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
Every time you twist the background Charax twists the head off a poor defenceless Imperial Fist. Powergaming Kills. "What's T'kaaris?" Dawn strood with a twitchy gait and a wavering voice, like a scolded child. Charax had not been happy since her return from Hanoth. She had thought herself his lieutenant, but she had since been put in her place. She was his favoured champion, but Charax did not stand for failure. He had, however, showed his compassion and apologised when he has unleashed his wrath upon her, with a bellowing that had shook the halls and a palpable aura of displeasure that had seen her break down in tears in front of Vonnant. She had seen a smile play upon his lips, up until Charax's wrath had been directed at him for the loss of the asset Icarus. after he had left Charax had explained why Hanoth had been such a vital goal, and comforted her. She was glad he had not used his shard within her to cause her more agony, but she was quite aware he had not forgotten. People dont forget when they can kill others on a whim. "T'kaaris is an ancient force. The first daemon to defy its god. The Four quickly learnt the downside to not being able to destroy souls.""What happened?" "When a daemon is formed, a mortal soul who has died in service of their patron is imbued with their energy and sent to reality to do their bidding as a daemon. Their recollections of their former lives are vague, sometimes non-existant, but the soul is the same one as it was before. T'kaaris was a servant of Tzeentch, who decided to rebel against him. Tzeentch looked on in amusement as his pawn's ambition made it stronger. it killed for itself and gathered power, but not enough to pose even a minor threat. Tzeentch nurtured him like a pet, watching as his plots expanded, and his power grew in ways even Txeentch could scarcely comprehend, for T'kaaris was born mortal, and even Tzeentch cannot understand with full depth the vagaries of mortal existance.""So what happened, and what does it have to do with us now?" "Other Daemons saw this and did the same, rebelling and following their own agendas, taking with them a part of their patron's power. These "Independant" daemons were by no means common - only the strongest of mortal souls could even hold the capacity for it, and then they had to be chosen as daemons. Nevertheless it was an unwelcome trend, and the gods sought to quash it.""T'kaaris was subjected to the most horrible punishment the gods themselves could concieve - he was bound to a weapon and imprisoned within the most inaccesable place then devised - The Lyceum of Gifts. The world on which the Lyceum rested was hurled into an area of dead space, from and to which warp travel was impossible. So, T'kaaris was banished and set adrift, and his fellow rebellers were routed, they pledged allegiance to their patrons and were never allowed to manifest again. for fifty thousand years he has been imprisoned, races have been born and died around him, and he has languished in oblivion, cut off from the warp and the power it gives him. Now, it appears, he has somehow been set free.""What did the Lyceum do? Was it a vault? An arena?" "Not quite a vault. It bestowed people who stood within it gifts of the gods, to show them a glimpse of their potential future in the service of the gods. It can only be opened once every five hundred years, by a sacrifice made by someone already tainted by Chaos. Of course, in dead space no link to the warp is possible. He appears to have found a way around that."*** Come to me, child. Release me at last from my prison.Kossar wrenched himself from the altar and staggered towards the coffin. The pulses from the sphere stopped, and the beams thinned to a trickle. Kossar struggled to move with this new, alien anatomy. You are ready, speak the runes on my prison, let me free after all these aeonsGolden spirals appeared on the black surface of the coffin, coiling and intertwining like snakes. Kossar would have been unable to pronounce them before, but his mutated throat had twisted his larynx to a degree where such foul syllables were possible. He opened his mouth and his jaw dropped a foot, a deep, threatening hum that could have been mistaken for the chanting of a choir of monks emerged, mixed with the unholy scream of a damned soul. The chains shook, as did the whole chamber, until with a screech of twisting metal they snapped, causing the coffin to plummet to the ground and shatter. Amid the splinters and shards of black wood, still bearing the twisting runes Kossar had spoken, lay a large broadsword, barbed and mutated to a degree where the basic shape was almost unrecognisable. the blade was thick, and bore many runic inscriptions, as well as having thin chains with wards hanging from them forged into its structure. Kossar picked it up and it almost sang, looking at it quizzically he heard it's true voice, the voice of his god. Now, child, be my vessel. Give me new life.Kossar's snakelike cyclopean head looked down in horror as se saw himself run the sword through his chest. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.htmlEvery time you twist the background Charax twists the head off a poor defenceless Imperial Fist. Powergaming Kills.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 9:58:28 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
"Dawn?" Charax said, knowing full well she had entered the bridge behind him "Yes, my lord Charax?" "You need a challenge - so far you've been involved in minor skirmishes and errands, you need a real chance to test out your new powers. I want you to bring me T'kaaris" "But...you said he was powerful, are you sure-" her uncertainty was cut off by her master's voice "Yes, I am certain you are ready for this, your armour protects you, your form empowers you, and your master blesses you. You may train with anyone aboard this vessel, they are all seasoned veterans, and will serve to teach you well in their challenges." "As you command, Lord Charax." The beautiful Lady of Despair slinked off, catlike, into the bowels of the ship, ornate plate armour making no sound as she moved. *** "Master Vonnant?" Ogenmort's powerful, but subservient tome resonated around the marine's quarters as he sat in a granite-carved seat reading a military manual stolen from the Arbites precinct-library on Hanoth. He looked up to his follower and put down the slate. "What is it, preacher?" "I thought it would please you to receive a gift, I instructed the technopriests as to its construction, and blessed it with my own words, it will serve you well" Vonnant sighed, the sycophant annoyed him at times, but he was useful, and Vonnant craved the power over others he had earned from Hanoth...that meddling pregnant dog Dawn would pay for taking credit for its success - and for telling Charax about Icarus. "What trinket have you for me, preacher, I have not time for your babblings" A mechanical clanking sound resonated from the hallway and cast a massive shadow over Ogenmort. He beckoned to it, and ordered it to come to him. With a few steps, a massive metal leg came into view, designed akin to a dog's paw. It was inlayed with minute gold scripture, and Vonnant's bionic eye picked up that it was of the tales he had told Ogenmort of Charax, as well as tales of his own exploits. Black wax seals held in place strips of parchment detailing arcane and profane rites, of soul-binding, sacrifice and possession. another step and Vonnant could see whose soul was bound - A human face, half-covered with some form of technological helmet, and with crude but vicious steel jaws lined with chainblades replacing his organic lower jaw. The creature roared, and Vonnant saw the oversized lower jaw split in two as it dropped, a fearsome sight to a lesser being, but Vonnant looked wearily at it, and then back to Ogenmort. "What is it? Or what was it? And what purpose does it serve me with?" "My world, master, was principally concerned with the conversion of heretics for the foul ecclesiarchy, turning enlightened souls into devastating weapons for their fanatic hordes. I took from there instructions on how to construct these 'Arco-flagellants' and bade the technopriests make this, as a token for liberating that wretched world from the Imperium. His name is Demos, he was one of those who would not follow you willingly, so I had him...made more receptive" Demos padded towards Vonnant and looked up to him - as it entered the room he saw that the human's body was held horizontal around five feet off the ground, and had undergone excessive bionic reconstruction to make it quadrupedal. He smiled at it, and felt the familiar whirring sensation in the back of his neck that signified new input being accepted by his MIU - Demos cowered at his feet like a scolded puppy, the drug injectors fused to its spine retracting into tiny armoured alcoves that studded its back. "Well done, Ogenmort, such things are remembered, and rewarded highly when the time comes" - the grovelling priest bowed, barely managing to hide the smile his greed provoked upon hearing the words, he swallowed his jubilation and looked back to his master. "I exist to serve you, Lord Vonnant." Fully aware that the marine would pick up on the minute emphasis placed on the new title. He bowed once more and left before Vonnant could question him on the matter. *** The cargo bay was pitch black, and the size of a thunderhawk bay. Combat squad Pandemic cautiously made their way into the darkness, archaic hellsight revealing the area around them in a variety of spectra. Organic auras surrounded the walls where the ship's daemonic essence intruded; it pulsed slowly and dripped down the corroded walls. The sickly-sweet scent of decaying flesh assailed their augmented senses, and a couple of the squadmembers removed their helmets to better appreciate it. Its momentary intoxication distracted them for vital seconds. "She's only a girl; any one of us can destroy her" "Indeed, her challenge will be her last" A shower of viscera erupted from the chest of one of the marines, a triple-segmented mechanical talon tipped with a large dagger-like blade curved over the dying marine's shoulder and retracted, tearing the helpless marine in two. The talon withdrew into the darkness, from where a second later Dawn emerged, three more such talons emerging from the back of her spined armour like a techmarine's combat harness. in each hand she held a weapon, in one was a massively oversized powerkatana, in the other she held a weapon that bore a passing resemblance to a bolter, but fused somehow with an eggsac of some foul giant insect, it pulsed dully with dormant life, fleshy tubes making peristaltic movements suggesting themselves to a loading action. "Good Afternoon, prey," she purred, speaking in the sultry tones of someone assured of their superiority. "I hope you put up more of a fight than the others." With this, she licked her lips and darted out of the way of their return fire, the first half-clip of bolter shots impacting a giant metal storage crate behind her. Her playful, haunting laughter echoed through the bay as the remaining six squad members replaced their helmets, hearing the satisfying hiss as their suits repressurised and noxious gases once again flooded their nostrils. "Not a speck of light is showing so the danger must be growing." Her quiet voice carried far through the bay, followed by another burst of shrill laughter. The iridescent lines that the hellsight showed the edges of the cargo boxed as shone into their eyes. They divided into three pairs and began to sweep the area methodically, bolters ready to react to anything unusual. Something scuttled towards the ceiling, a soft metal-on metal sound alerting them to it. Laser sights that modulated in frequency in sync to the marine's visual spectra flashed as the bands of transmission briefly ran through visual ranges, and fire tore through the area as the first pair reacted, briefly catching a glimpse of something near the ceiling. As the pair looked around where the disturbance had been, they failed to notice the small, black shape rapidly and silently falling to the ground. Dawn looked around her, acute vision picking out the flashing of the laser sights, and using it to navigate by, along with the sensory feedback from her armour's spines. Minor changes in air pressure allowed her to determine the distance between her and the surrounding crates. Silently leaping from crate to crate she effortlessly trailed the first pair of marines, who had fired at her a moment before - the amateurs hadn’t even gotten close to hitting her. Thumbing the control of her powerkatana, she sliced diagonally through two machinery packing crates, one either side of the pair of marines - they turned to the hum of the weapon, only to be pinned to the floor as the tops of the crates as they red-hot molten edges slid against each other. While they struggled under the weight of the crates and the nondescript machinery they doubtless held, Dawn brought her bolter to bear on their prone forms and pulled the trigger. The muzzle crackled as the fleshy sphincter closing the barrel heated up, a white-hot sphere of energy formed at the mouth with a louder, scaling hum. With a mighty kick the weapon spat forth innumerable shell-sized bolts of energy. They impacted the floor and crates, leaving smouldering holes the size of Heavy Bolter rounds through them, and burning into the marines below, the firing sound was akin to an immense burst of thunder, and dawn glanced around to see the arcing beams of the laser sights getting closer. Looking back at the massive molten holes punched through crates, marine and floor, and smelling the acrid scent of scorched flesh, she leapt off into the darkness once more. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.html"Ahh, yes, Professor Charax of Oddball physics," - First Speaker
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 10:05:58 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
The jolt that always accompanied the transition between the Warp and reality rocked the ship, as different forms of physics struggled to resolve themselves. Multicoloured streams of energy flooded into the darkness of space as warp energy split into its components, under the subtle tug of gravity. Dawn's claws softened the effect of the jolt, from her vantage point high on the roof she could see perfectly the remaining marines. Although the bay itself was pitch black, her armour somehow fed information back to her on her surroundings, regardless of light levels. Dawn, come to the bridge, we're entering orbit - the telepathic message hummed in her mind, and she felt a pang of disappointment as her hunt was cut short, especially after learnng the destructive potential of the items she had chosen from Charax's personal armoury. Silently she scuttled towards one of the exits, dropping deftly to the floor before opening the bay doors and turning on the lights "Game over, boys, I have work to do." She smiled as she gingerly strode from her killing field. *** "What is that?" "The planet Tartarus, population eight trillion, largest information repository in the sector, and home to something that owes me a favour." Tartarus hung in space, unmoving, dead, like a gleaming jewel cast randomly onto a velvet sheet. Its atmosphere was dotted with dead, unmoving ships tethered to the surface by great biotechnological spires. The planet's surface looked like a great seething mass, as thousands of people moved in unison to their tasks under the industrial smog that clogged the world. as they approached, Charax walked out to the transmission chamber to the rear of the bridge. the dark, circular room was lit only by the dim glow of a hundred or more cogitator panels, manned by servitors and displaying information about their readiness. His throne sat in the centre, bedecked in arcane machinery and flanked by a scribe-droid. The astropath-choir sat ready, dull, lifeless eyes plugges into an array of bionic feeds, with much of their lower bodies removed and replaced by mechanical gears and flex-bundles. "Transmit." The room lit up, a hovering Tau Drone with multiple cameras dropped into view, connected to one of the consoles by a long, trailing bundle of wires. It began the task of scanning his image and recording it as holographic data to send. "Ulgshamineth, Lord of Secrets, protector of hidden lore, I entreat you to allow me passage to your realm, in the name of the debt of honour you hold to me." The astropath choir was quiet a moment, then spoke as one, their voice one of adulation. "Charax, our friend, we were wondering when you would return to us. You are, of course, given passage. You require information of T'kaaris?" "I do, he is free once more, and I require his essence for a task." "Amon Dull, the laughing one?" "Indeed." Charax began to remember how annoying it was talking to an omniscient being. "I have someone who must meet you - a new addition to the fold, so to speak." "Dawn? There was some chatter amongst the comm-channels of her, your name came up once or twice. Of course, she may visit us. I suspect she has never met a god before," the choir chuckled. "Indeed. We shall make our way to you presently." *** Charax stepped on to the bridge just as Dawn entered. Her spiderlike talons retracted into her armour, now indestinguishable from the other ornate detailing it held. "Dawn, order the the yacht readied, there is someone we need to see." "T'kaaris is down there?" "No, but someone who knows where to find him." *** The two hundred-ton Dorien-Class executive Yacht hung from the crane extending outwards from the now-open launch bay, its sleek outline dwarfed by the massive profile of Charax's flagship. Slowly, the crane tilted the ship downwards, pivoting the small craft until it faced directly towards the planet. Gravity generators kept Dawn and the humanoid form of Charax oriented correctly and they were held in place for a few seconds before the clamps were released and the yacht began its freefall descent to Tartarus. Microthrusters on the hull made subtle corrections to the descent, and helped ease the turbulance of plunging into the thick smog of the world. the heat of entry ignited gases in the upper atmosphere, surrounding the ship in a halo of light. The ship levelled out and banked to avoid the titanic spires that erupted from the surface. Slowly the roaring plasma engines shut down, and the craft came to rest in the middle of a ruined city centre. "Where are we going?" asked Dawn, the imposing structures of the city looming over her. she darted backwards as a shape moved in the darkness. Charax's senses picked up the aura of warp energy flowing over the whole planet, the ripples of colour seemed to come from their position, but there was something else - a weak other aura that was interfering with the planet's native warp energy. "Wait, he will find us. He sees all that happens here." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.htmlEvery time you twist the background Charax twists the head off a poor defenceless Imperial Fist. Powergaming Kills.
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 10:33:31 GMT -5
The darkness of the city seemed to slide back to reveal a large number of human - or humanlike shapes shambling from the ruins. rows upon rows of slow-moving shapes walked towards them. As they approached the Dorien's landing lights, Dawn could make out the glint of metal and the dull flashing of lights - Servitors! decaying skin or plain bone replaced the cloned flesh, and some wore scraps of Navy uniforms, aritocratic finery or..a few hulking examples towards the rear wore astartes-pattern power armour. An army of servitors formed from the visitors to this world. Dawn drew her daemon-bolter, but Charax shook his head. "Worry not, these things are merely drones of Ulgshamineth, they are here to show us to him." "No need, we are here, Charax." The servitor army parted and turned behind them, a variety of lights switched on and revealed a large throne of ornate twisted metal. On it sat an abomination of flesh and metal, the Daemonhost Dhazgarponir, Host to the entity Ulgshamineth, the Lord of the Golden Light. The figure stood, it looked like a melding of three bodies - it had three heads, six arms and two legs. the heads were skeletal, with bionics replacing eyes, large portions of the skull and jaws, Each head was topped with a ring of snakelike stubby mechanical tenticles tipped in tipped in red lenses. Its chest was partially skeletal, partially mechanical, with ribs poking out from where the bionics did not cover. rotten flesh leaked from its insides and spilled onto the floor. its top and bottom sets of arms were horrific fusions of flesh and metal, pallid humanoid shoulders and biceps rotting away to reveal a metal endoskeleton, while the central pair were purely mechanical, fused directly to either the beast's bionic chest or its spine, which sank into a bulky mechanical pelvis and reinforced legs. "We have much to discuss with you, Lord of Time, our network has heard much which pertains to you. You and your cause...""What information have you on T'kaaris and the method by which he was released? It is imperative that I find him." "In good time. We require of you a service, as is always so, a recent associate of ours requests audience with you. For our knowledge, you must grant this request.""Who is it? An inquisitor after my blood? Some daemonologist requesting the secrets of a chosen servant of Chaos?" "Not quite." A fluid, seductive voice came from their right, the violently fluctuating tones gave its owner away as a servant of Slaanesh. Dawn spun to face the voice, while Charax merely turned slowly. "Permit me to introduce myself, my liege, I am Sinoda, humble servant of Slaanesh. The Lord of the Golden Light informed me that you were most worthwhile ally to have, so I entreat you to not consider me a threat, but a useful ally in this area of space. Allies are a wise thing to have, and I have agents within the Inquisition whom I might utilise on your bhalf, should you accept.""So for my help - and, I assume, protection - I recieve, what? Another inquisitorial operative and a weakness in my defences which you can exploit under the banner of peace? Why should I not strike you down where you stand and release your essence back to your god? Answer me, why is your existance worth so much that I should not bind you into a harmless trinket for eternity?" "Very well, an exchange then, I shall provide you with something you require, in exchange for a favour I may call upon at some future time.""And what, pray tell, do you have that I may require, whelp?" The womanlike form of the daemon princess looked hurt "Whelp? I'm insulted, but in answer to your question, I have this..." With that she revealed from behind her a three-tailed whip latched to her hand, it squirmed and writhed with a life of its own. she pulled it off of her arm and it became inert. She walked slowly towards the pair and presented it to them. "The Lord of the Golden Light mentioned you were in requirement of a Slaaneshi daemonweapon for your latest quest, so here I present you one. Sh'layaa, the soultearer. She will serve you well, I believe."Charax looked at the offering carefully, sensing its power, and also its inert nature - it required a host to become animate, and without one it was harmless. Its true power was great though. It seemed perfect for the cause. "Very well. I will accept this token and owe you some small debt of gratitude, but rest assured that any deceit will be met with a force beyond your comprehension." "I would expect nothing less," the being said, as it bowed and left the area, melding with the shadows. "Very good, Charax, we thank you for paying our debt." The skeletal creature sat back down, its spine connecting, through similar biomechanical cables as those spearing the orbiting dead vessals, wo the planet. Charax could see microscopic fibres connecting each and every servitor to their master, bringing them, in a sense, at least, closer to god. "I did so out of duty, now tell me of the knowledge you have acquired." "Very well, we shall. Firstly, I will not bore you with the tale of the origin of T'kaaris, We are sure such stories have been repeated many times as a warning to others, We can simply tell you where he is, and how to reach him. He is in the Sanctum Impregnable, on the planet known to imperial scholars as Lucidia. It can be reached by three days travel from here at subwarp speeds, T'kaaris is waiting for a means to get away from the planet, however, so be careful."Pausing for a moment, Charax turned to Dawn. "Do you feel that you are up to the task?" A look of astonishment swept her face, she was being asked to take on a daemon prince who had been bound by the gods themselves, alone... "Me? but..you said T'kaaris held great power, how am I do defeat him?" Charax paused again, recalling the gifts already bestowed upon his favoured servant. "You have great power also. I will allow you to use the Axe I recovered from Arkonis, it has abilities that will protect you." "If you feel I can succeed, I shall go." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.html"Professor Charax of Oddball physics, Chaos Theory and Mathematical Correctness" - First Speaker |
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Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 25, 2004 10:40:18 GMT -5
Originally posted by Charax
Charax nodded in approval "Very well." He turned once more and re-addressed his old aquaintance "And what of other things?" "The inquisitorial Conclave has been rife with chatter, it appears that there is a war brewing between the hard-line creed followers and those who make use of more... outlandish means. Our datum recorders have picked up many items that may be of interest."One of the servitors walked forward, carrying with it three secered heads on a chain, studded with mechanical accessories. Datum Drones, the Adeptus Mechanicus used them to record sensitive datam. Charax picked them up by the chain, and was amused as they hung in a form resembling his patron's symbol. "Dhazgarponir." Charax spoke the keyword and the eyes of all three drones shot open, and they began to speak, the conflicting tones of their voices raising a cacophony that only a daemon's enhanced senses could distinguish. The first drone, formed from the head of what looked like a middle-aged man, with a scar on his forehead and the thin cropped haircut of a military officer, spoke in a loud, authoritative tone. his eyes were laced with the microcircuitry that revealed the presence of advanced bionics, and his ears were studded with some form of gold tribal studs. Ah thought Charax, as its eyes closed and its lips stopped moving. So this Inquisitor Azreal knows of Alundirel? He will be a valuable asset, and he has thoughtfully included his location...The second drone, with the pale, soft features of an Eldar Female, had eyes whose colour shifted, Charax could sense the faint after-resonance of psionic activity...This one used to be a psyker. She spoke in fluid tones only an Eldar could manage. "The Laughing Child thrives on hate, and none who hate may slay him, one pure of soul will strike the fatal blow, with a weapon forged on the Anvil of Vaul, on the Flower of the Dark Gods" As it fell silent, Charax's memory began to make connections in the words - the Flower of Chaos was one of the Eldar names for Eidolon, a planet in constant battle as the gods fought for land. The Laughing Child referred to Amon Dull, and the Anvil of Vaul must be present on Eidolon, being an old Eldar world. The third and final drone was forged from the half-decayed skull of some form of Tyranid organism. its small black eyes shot open and it merely screamed, an undilating tone that acted as a carrier to some other, psychic wave. An image formed in Charax's mind, triggered by this scream and its unknown ulterior influence. A green world, some form of agri or leasure planet, studded with white specks, presumably houses. a serene vision that was soon shattered.
A flash of light, a dark speck, an expanding dark green wave. upon closer inspection, he could see how the wave spread, people infected by a disease, a familiar disease, infecting others through merely looking upon them. it began slowly - the sparcely-populated world was not the best target for infection - but spread it did, through vid-links, telecommunication channels, orbital links... astropaths.He saw a sector, drawn by the astropathic distress calls into contacting the planet - being infected, spreading the disease.The Leon San plague, taken to the next level. A disease that could ravage an entire system in a week, requiring only one host. An irresistable oppertunity. "What is this world?" Charax said, through the psychic vision. "Tithus IV, remember it, and when it is mentioned to you again, you will know what to do.""How do you know this?" "We have absorbed many into our network, librarians, scholars, officials....Warp-seers. Our vision spreads far, and our knowledge knows no bounds, even those of time."Charax nodded, hung the arm with the Datum drones to his side and bowed. "There is no more?" "We have heard faint rumours of one called the Enlightener, the tales say he is able to cure people of the taint of chaos. He may be worthy of your attention, if the tales are true.""We thank you, Ulgshamineth, as always you are a vital ally to those who oppose the Imperium of Man." "We aid you because you have aided us, not because of your enemies, Charax. We hope to see you soon, regardless, we get lonely out here, with only pawns for company.""I will return when I can, in the meantime, I believe Sinoda will serve you in such a capacity adequately." Charax turned, and left, trailed slightly by Dawn, who took a last look back at the servitor army and the three-headed abomination commanding them. before entering the expansive and well-lit hold of the Dorien-class shuttle. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Impressive display, but did you ever stop to consider why I am known as the Eternal? - Charax to Mentirius at Secret's Hold Visit the Conclave at www.geocities.com/Inquisitor_conclave/Index.html"Professor Charax of Oddball physics, Chaos Theory and Mathematical Correctness" - First Speaker
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