Chapter 1: Into the wild black yonder IC

Roderick strode over to Boris and and the helmsman as they got the order to fire from Torian. Look out Bruce. Let me take a look Roderick said as he swatted the man from his seat with the back of his hand. He drew a scowl from Boris, though the big man's face was perpetually that way. Roderick took control of the joysticks, and made some final adjustments to the targeting system. He didn't have to change much to the targeting solution, but with the painting of the target from Ignatio and the psychic buoy from Alexium he was confident that he could hit the lead ship without any troubles. Once locked on, he pulled the trigger and sent the lance streaking down into the ocean below. The ship gave a slight lurch as the beam leapt towards the planet below, reminding Roderick of a horse kicking out at a fly. As he got up, he looked at Alexium and the floating servo skull nearby. I owe you both a drink after that one. See me in my quarters after this. He looked over at Valry, Any chance we can see that on the main screen here? Admire the shift in power?

Alexium was practically beaming with pride and excitement. They waited, as still as a statue, for the pict screen to relay the effects of the shot. But inside they were bursting with energy. It seemed as though everyone was coming together and aiding one another in this endeavor.

Ignatio eased the machine spirits into submission, calming and directing their wills. Torian, the natural leader, had expertly talked up the crew and their potential for greatness without once hollering, threatening, nor making baseless promises. Roderick had proven that every bit of cocksuredness he displayed could be backed up with action. Brenonya's mere presence was a reassurance in and of itself. Alexium was holding fast for the moment she would be unleashed to her full potential, and they had a feeling that moment was nigh.

So they stood, content, eager, and proud of what the crew was becoming.

The lance-batteries heated up, as the ship repositionned itself to fire on the planet. The giga-capacitor released their current, flooding the lance's gain medium and releasing a powerful beam of light. It cut through the atmosphere, leaving a bright stream of plasmafied air. As the pillar touched down, it hit the center of the fleet. The central ships where destroyed on contact, leaving nothing but a faint silhouette that dissipated in milliseconds. As the beam hit water, millions on litres where converted to gas, provoking a powerful explosion that capsized any remaining ships, skalded the kraken deep in the sea, and sent a massive wave out in all directions. As the steam lifted and became clouds, water rushed into the point, creating a powerful whirlpool that sucked in the last dregs of the fleet into the depths. The whirlpool would likely remain for weeks, as the sea attempted to replace the evaporated water. The fleet was no more, and no more would be made of it.

Alexium jumped up and throw a small fist into the air.

"HA! Suck on the Omnissiah's Red Hot Rod, you shitheads!"

Composing themselves once more, they cleared their throat. "Excuse me, Boris," they said as they moved forward and shook Roderick's hand. "Hell of a shot, Hot-Rod."

After the congratulations and preliminary planning of the next step, Alexium excused themselves to immediately make contact with Prioress Joanne.

+++++++

Torian watched closely, approving of the efficiency of this team. He gave a simple "Well done." before retaking his seat and waiting for the next steps. He was beginning to internalize these people as his true family, even becoming oddly fond of Alexium's reassuring presence in his mind. He resolved internally that the clodheaded guard who dared threaten them would indeed die in agony.

He quietly gestured over an aide, and ordered a cask of the ship's finest be sent to Roderick's cabin, such would make an excellent vintage to share in victory with the others.

Alexium sent a thought to the choir, reinforcing a calming energy to all present.

~~~It was us, yes. It was the mighty vessel we command, in the name of the King of Kings, the Emperor of all humankind. I do regret that some righteous had to sacrifice their lives in the process, but their names will be remembered among the Halls of the Martyrs. There is much to teach your people, but that time will come. We have within our power the ability to bring the same fire and destruction upon each enemy stronghold. But we do not know the strategic situation on the ground. Is there any reason why we should not bring ruin to these sorcerers?~~~

If they could end this in one fell swoop, then peace would be achieved and a potentially great ally delivered.

Alexium took the name in and kept it close - High Sorcerer still needed to be dealt with, apparently.

~~~ Paint in your mind the central continent. Mark the enemy strongholds. Now, is there any reason why they would be better taken by ground forces than destroyed by the might of the Emperor's heavenly power? If not, vengeance will come to them immediately. ~~~

Iron and Metal wrote:

Alexium took the name in and kept it close - High Sorcerer still needed to be dealt with, apparently.

~~~ Paint in your mind the central continent. Mark the enemy strongholds. Now, is there any reason why they would be better taken by ground forces than destroyed by the might of the Emperor's heavenly power? If not, vengeance will come to them immediately. ~~~

As she thought, only one place really held any weight-the great fortress at the pole of the world. It was from there that the darkness came, smothering the faint light of innocents trapped under their influence. It was only at the pole that all was black.

~~~We will free the slaves & those who have suffered! Use the fires of heaven on all save Melchizedech-he will yet find a way to escape.~~~

Alexium bid the Prioress and her Paladins farewell and blessings as they broke contact. The Astropath left her with this:

~~~ For He whom we both serve, keep this prayer in your heart: Love the Emperor, for He is the salvation of Humankind. Obey His words, for He will lead you into the light of the future. Heed His wisdom, for He will protect you from evil. We shall meet soon, Prioress ~~~

Alexium broke contact and made their way to the command deck.

"So, it appears the enemy faction is headed by a Chaos-Sorcerer named 'Melchizedech.' As of right now, Prioress Joanne and her forces are setting up a counter offensive to retake the main isle and liberate the enslaved populations there. OUR TASK, if you will, should be turning that castle in the north polar region to ash and glass and ensuring this... Malchizedech... is either imprisoned or killed for real. Bastard has a talent for coming back time and again apparently. Do we have any fresh fruit? I have a sweet tooth."

Alexium strolled over to Boris and, presumably, Roderick and asked, "This may be a question for Ignatio, but is there a way to... turn down... the ship's lance battery? I would hate to, you know, exterminate all surface life over one single castle."

Alexium nodded. This was exactly the type of expertise and solid intelligence a repeatedly-victorious Frigate needed. It reminded them of their previous service aboard the Sword Breaker under Commander Xandrus Crassus, before their ill-fated encounter with the Rogue Psyker ship.

They put it out of their mind. Alexium was here now, in service to a House that fate demanded be made great once more. This was the brink of glory the mythologies spoke of. What a time to be alive.

"It appears I need to study up on the Anatem's capabilities. Thank you for educating me, Boris. Well, I am in favor of listening to your advice, of course. Hot-Rod? Ignatio? You two are the experts."

Once again, Ignatio made his way into the depths of the sensor array. This time he plugged in and attempted to put his mind to calculating the weakest point of the castle below. However, this time as he poured over the data his mind lost focus. He had been keeping himself going with wide-awake for hours now, and this led to occasional lapses in concentration.

By the time the Magos remembered what he was supposed to be doing, the macrocannon was already preparing to fire.

Alexium decided that their station aboard the command deck needed more rugs, so had requested some of the finest be brought in. If there was a raised platform anywhere, that was where they instructed the rugs be placed.

Alexium gently climbed atop the rugs, barefoot as they were wont to do. With grace, they sat cross-legged, left hand touching the rug while the right hand touched the temple.

A deep breath in. An extremely controlled, long deep breath out. Ever so carefully, the Astropath reached out to the minds of all the command crew present:

Torian stood again in front of his throne, and spoke calmly. "Your last efforts highlighted your skill and passion. Let this effort show your efficiency and consistency. Let our touch on the face of this world be precise. Wipe this chaos filth clean."

The single shot left the macrocannon, but unfortunately the shot wasnt properly compensated for the planet's spin, striking in the dusty valley bellow. The strike lifted up a large plume of dust, and numerous pieces of stone that flew hundreds of meters away, some flying towards the fortress, the others striking up further dust plumes. The wind blew the dust north, shrouding the fortress.

Valry reported quickly after the firing.

Hm...shortly after the firing there was a blip on the warpsign detectors. It was just a fraction of a second, but the wall between materium and warp became thinner. The dust is electro-reflective, fouling up the sensors, so there's nothing more to see. It could take hours for the dust to settle. May be a good time to land though, they wont see our troops coming.

Ignatio watched the shot with mounting disappointment, realizing that it would miss a split second before the solid macrocannon slug impacted the planet below. Hooked directly into the sensor feed as he was, he quickly came to the same conclusion that the Master of Etherics had.

There seemed nothing to do but move on to the next phase of the plan. He rapidly extracted himself from the sensor array, and quickly rushed to the hangar bay holding the Aquila Lander and the interceptor. And there he waited, until Lord Roderick made his way down from the bridge.

Alexium slowly opened their left eye, breaking the meditative bond with the crew after sensing a growing sense of disappointment in many.

Well, that sucks a ton of grox ass, they thought as they surveyed the scene with one eye open and the other still closed. With a sigh, the Astropath Transcendent made a call and had their kit brought out. From Ignatio's hurrying, it was time to start the second phase of the plan.

They decided not to rub salt in the wound of their oldest friend Roderick. He was no doubt beating himself up enough already. The jibes and piss-taking was only fun when it was mutual. Alexium was not cruel, after all. Not to friends at any rate.

When their kit was delivered, they hurried after Ignatio, eager to go put an evil sorcerer to the stake.

Once the Antanem had made it to firing position above the northern pole of the planet, Roderick strode onto the bridge slightly more relaxed than was appropriate for such a moment. He had been in a meeting with other members of the officer class for some time reviewing the aftermath of the fleet's destruction. Those closest might get a whiff of ethanol as he passed, but he was doing a stand up job of looking the part.

He approached Boris and the helmsman at the scopes for the batteries, Almighty. Bruce. He said to each with a nod. Have we got that solid shot loaded into the macro cannon already? When he was given the affirmative, Roderick leaned over the scopes and gave another small adjustment. He stood longer than was necessary, seemingly frozen in place. After another few seconds he moved the scope again and settled on a final solution. Firing in 3. 2. 1. Ordinance away.

He straightened up to watch the shell hurtle towards the fortress. He and everyone watching knew it wasn't going to hit, and he was thankful for the polite silence after the shell struck further down the valley. After a moment he cleared his throat on the silent bridge. I guess we'll just have to do it the old fashioned way eh chaps? Who's ready to get their hands dirty? He turned back to Torian on his command throne and bowed, By your leave Lord Captain, I'll take Claymore planetside and assist the assault from the air.

He left the bridge then, heading for the flight bay where the landers and other craft were stored. The walk helped clear his head, and he grew more excited to test out the interceptor with every stride

As Roderick arrived at the hanger bay, the Magos waited for him in front of his new interceptor. With a ritual flourish of his arms, he waved toward the ship.

"My Lord, may I present the Xiphon Interceptor Claymore, the finest small craft I have had the honor to service." He went about showing Roderick the various features he had uncovered, and quickly showing him the layout of the controls. He also detailed its capabilities.

"Unfortunately, it was necessary to somewhat limit Claymore's maneuvering capabilities, as the inertia produced by its full retro-thrust exceeds the tolerances of the unaugmented human body by a factor of 2.3. Space Marines, the typical pilots of such vehicles, can withstand such inertial stresses, but currently I do not believe you could do so."

He then showed him the controls for firing the krak missiles. "The interceptor is loaded with ten specialized krak missiles, which can be fired with this trigger. I recommend using them sparingly, as we cannot currently replicate them, but if a target proves resilient against lascannon fire, I believe a missile strike will likely penetrate. You have ten missiles loaded, though I have removed another two in order to attempt to replicate the design."

"The engine system is tuned for vacuum as well as a wide variety of atmospheric conditions, but as a result its machine spirit may require regular manual correction to keep it on course, as otherwise it tends to wander."

"However, My Lord, I believe you are particularly well-chosen to pilot this craft."

Walking into the hanger bay, Roderick smiled as he saw the excited gestures of Magos Ignatio. What a beauty she is Ignatio. You've done an outstanding job. As he was led around the fuselage, and shown the concealed missile pods, he made note to keep as many of the relics as possible. When they did a full circuit of the craft, Roderick nodded again and stood with his hands behind his back. I'll be sure to bring back as many of those krak missiles as I can after this mission. The more we have left the more chances to copy and create more.

I thank you for dialing back the capabilities of this craft to suit my physical well-being. Not sense turning myself to a bag of jelly on our first ride. Though, that does make me wonder about the suit that came with it. I noticed a noticed a number of ports and connections that suggested MIU links of some sort. It was also made of a strange material. Would it help to increase my resilience or abilities in flight?

"I cannot say, My Lord. I have not yet had a chance to examine the suit in detail. I will however move it up on my list of priorities. For now, this still remains by far our most formidable craft. I entrust its spirit into your care."

Burning censors of incense stood to either side of the ship, and in a whirl Ignatio turned and threw a glass bottle of anointing fluid at the nose of the craft, whereupon it shattered into dozens of fragments, spattering the nose with oil.

"In the name of the Omnissiah, I anoint this vessel Clamore. May it serve his allies and burn his enemies."

And with the ritual complete, he turned and made his way to the aquila lander, meeting a junior tech priest who arrived with his sacred meltagun along the way.

Alexium strolled up behind Roderick. When no one was within ear shot the Astropath simply said, "We clearly partied too hard before the big show, eh?"

They whistled loudly upon taking in Claymore properly for the first time. "Hey, Ignatio? How many seats are there in this baby? I have got to get into that co-pilot's seat - assuming there is one. No way Ram-Rod over here is having all the fun."

The small, androgynous phenom was kitted down once again. Exquisite silk robes kept them comfortable under a suit of well-crafted flak armor. Of course, underneath all of that, a second skin of subdermal implants added yet another layer of protection. And, of course, they would not be complete without the Jolanese Mandala implants that covered their body.

Unknown to all, including even Roderick perhaps, was the fact that Alexium was something of a very mobile tank. Even still, they took no chances. Small shield strapped to their left arm, las pistol at their hip, and hoverboard hooked to the bottom of their backpack... they were ready for an adventure.

"Oh yeah, what channel is your microbead on? And who in the fuck am I supposed to stand behind now when the shooting starts? You're really boning me here, Rowdy-Roddy-Piper."

"unfortunately, I do not believe you could be safely seated in the Claymore. While the Astartes configuration of the cockpit can accommodate them, in this version that space has been given over to additional restraint systems and inertial compensators that allow even this lessened amount of maneuverability. Though you could physically fit your body into the remaining space, I would not reccomend doing so. You would not benefit from the various features that will keep Lord Roderick safe."

Ignatio busied himself with a final inspection of the Aquila lander as the others assembled.

Alexium sighed and mocked a big frown. Thanks, you glorious metal bastard. Don't know what I'd do without you. Hey, guess what! I am going to stand behind you now when we go planetside. Cool? Cool."

Yes, that last lap with Brenonya wasn't a flash idea. Perhaps next time we start cutting the drinks after the first round, he said without taking his eyes off the interceptor. She's rather fond of you too, little one. If you flash those peepers at her and smile prettily enough, she might carry you close to her bosom with one arm and slay with the other. He stopped talking for a moment as the image seared itself into his mind and started laughing. I would be the one missing all the fun then! They continued to chit chat for a little longer as the ship got into position, but when the klaxons started hooting signaling the moment of departure, Roderick started to undo is sword belt, holding the sheath and belt in a bundle in one hand. Time to introduce myself. See you both below. With that he walked to the cockpit ladder and practically leapt into the pilot's saddle.

His face lit up in a green glow as he ran through the pre-flight checks. Flicking a blue rune, the canopy closed above him and began to hermetically seal. He strapped himself in and then engaged the engines, to allow the turbines and jets to heat up. There was a throaty growl as powerplant kicked on followed by a consistent tremor that made it feel like the ship was vibrating across the deck. Claymore was ready to be out in the open space after so long confined on the ground and in the dark...

Brenonya strode down with the other officers speaking to her armsmen crew giving the last of her orders. She put her helmet on strapped her censor around her waist, then knelt down when Ignatio blessed the new vessel. Her whip was already wrapped around her shoulders as she liked to enter battle, her bolter strapped to her hip, and as always she hefted her chainsword around ready for anything, however to her it was the might of the Imperium that she held in the name of the Immortal Emperor.

She watched her fellow scions prepare their kits, bowed her head, and prayed as to bless their instruments of war to do the work of the Ominissiah, Love the Emperor for He is the salvation of mankind. Obey His words for He will lead you into the light of the future. Heed His wisdom for He will protect you from evil. Whisper His prayers with devotion, for they will save your soul. Honour His servants, for they speak in His voice. Tremble before His majesty, for we all walk in His immortal shadow."

A member of the flying corps, a young man by the name of Corporal Hieronimus, was assigned to pilot your aquila lander. Claymore, the Aquila and 5 arvus lighters came along. Halo Barges where being prepped, and would deploy with more troops once a beachhead had been established. As the squadron plunged into the atmosphere, the heat of re-entry shone and they ressembled falling stars...

Once you approached the polar valley, you could see how the rising dust was concealing the whole mountainside, though some of the battlements on the valley floor, as well as a tower to the west, where still faintly visible. For the moment, you were unnoticed.

Alexium tested the microbead link among the squad.

"So, do we have a game plan here, or are we just killing everything that looks evil until we have the arch-sorcerer in our sights?"

There was no judgement to the question. It was simple curiosity. It seemed pertinent that at least a semblance of a plan be hashed out. They would leave it up to Brenonya. While they waited for answers, they pulled out their exquisite laspistol. Perhaps if they killed something evil with it, it could earn a name.

As the Aquila Lander descended through the dust, Ignatio plugged himself into the shuttle's sensors, aggressively scanning through the area to detect any signs of heat or movement.

As he did, he offhandedly answered Alexium's question. "Given that this is the stronghold of a chaos sorcerer, I would reccomend proceeding with extreme prejudice. I also suspect that only the locals would have the requisite knowledge to separate friend from foe."

"We need to use our air assets to our advantage as much as possible." Alexium may not look like much, but they spent their entire lives aboard frigates and Imperial Navy vessels. They knew a thing or two about air superiority, and exhumed a level of confidence when on deck that wasn't nearly matched when they were on the ground.

"Between Hot-Rod and this Aquila's autocannon, we have some serious mobile firepower at our disposal. Keep the air assets linked up with our ground-comms to call in strafing runs and evac when/if necessary. It's limited, but will have to do for now."

They really sent out the confidence now. It was sure to go away once their small boots were on the ground.

Alexium then patched through to Roderick. "Hey there, cowboy. You ready for this?"

Lethia watched the lance strike from her navigator's throne. With the viewport open, she had a clear 235 degree view of the void, a far better view than even the largest armaglas screen in the command deck.


In silence she stands and watches the beam strike the ocean. It was all serene in the calm still of the throne. With a gesture, tracking servitors in the room increase the radio chatter from the command deck. She listens, knowing that her presence was not yet needed.

She would be needed ground side soon enough, to end the order of Melchizedek. As the first (or possibly second?0 most powerful psyker aboard, she would be instrumental in stopping the renegade psyker.

She dons her chestplate carapace, over her void suit and that over her utility jumpsuit. the robe she normally wore would be useless if they needed to move quickly. It felt stramge to not wear the robes that navigators were groomed to wear, another quirk in the Filiantis dynasty.

Prepped, she moves to the hangar deck and boards an Aquila lander, preferably the one with the most support personnel. She had no illusions about her combat effectiveness. Here, she had one job and one job only - protection from the perils of the warp.

"We'll have a forward strike force and two on our flanks, when we move in we will have to take a moment to observe things as we progress in. While the dust covers our entry, it also obscures the actual layout of their defenses. We've evenly spread our centaurs across these three groups as I was hesitant to commit too much to one individual formation. We'll have to call in our air support marking our targets until visibility clears up, once it does clear up they will be given the order to fire at will." She felt a bit uneasy about her plan, and wished they had some of those monsters the Mechanicus and its adepts make on Mars. Or any other form of heavy support to give them an easy fall back if things went south. With this dust their orbital bombardment could kill the enemy but also the scions, not a smart gamble with obscured instruments.

Claymore began to vibrate more as the engines came up to speed. With a thumbs up from Bruce, on the flight deck, Roderick released the landing gear and felt the thrusters take the weight of the craft. He then directed the interceptor towards the nears shielded exit and drifted out into the void at a crawl. Once he was outside he came to a stop and went through a final check of his equipment. Checking your tack one last time before riding onto the pitch could save your life one day, and the same could be said with ships. After a moment of silence, Roderick clicked his teeth and eased the thrusters forward, let's see what you've got

The pull of inertia was immense, even in the vacuum of space. It felt as though his eyelids were peeling back, though his lips had been that way since they took off. He took Claymore through the same porpoising maneuvers and checks and accelerations he had done when first taking the helm of the Anatem. He wanted to get a feel for the craft and how it rode. He could feel his consciousness expand into the seems of the cockpit, and though he wasn't linked to the ship, he could still feel the its dimensions through the play in the controls. It truly was an exquisite mount, that would have Angus Andraays salivating in jealousy. He flew a number of vectors around the ship to get a good look at the goliath and also to see what Claymore's responses were like in close proximity to larger objects. He noticed the arvus lighters were beginning to filter out of the ship's hold and came to rest while the squadron gathered, like a shark watching a bait ball.

Alexium, my friend, I think Claymore and I were born ready. Keep up if you can. I'll lead you all down and scout ahead for a landing area. With that, he pointed his nose down at the planet below, found the north pole and took off in a flash of light.

Entry from the void through to full atmosphere was relatively seamless. He locked in the coordinates of where the stronghold should be and flew on to keep ahead of the others. Eventually, a large valley opened up below him complete with a billowing dust cloud from his failed shot. Less celebrating next time, and more eyes on target. he thought to himself as he flew over. He looked around for the stronghold and where would be ideal locations to land the invasion force

"Torian, there is a large concentration of psykers ahead. It may be a ritual of some sort. It's imperative we stop it. Behind that is a raised dias with a lonepsyker on it. I dont suppose we couold use the xiphon to smash the formation into dust?"

She held on to the supports as the craft bucked and weaved through the atmosphere.

Torian listened closely, deliberately, to Lethia. He gathered his military advisers and the armsmen and naval officer corps, and gave the final commands before their assault would commence.

"Lethia, you're going to have to guide us throughout all this. We're going to riddle the fortress with suppressing fire from the Aquila and Interceptor. Then amidst that covering fire a small team will land inside the castle itself to begin a pinpoint assault on that ritual. I want a full landing wave coming in behind us as we keep the bulk of their forces pinned down and any remaining elite troops distracted. That wave establishes an immediate perimeter and LZ before pushing on in after us. This is not a time for prisoners or mercy.

Pinpoint team will include myself, Lethia, Alexium, Brenonya, Magos Ignatio. Bren, task a platoon of ~4 dozen troopers to follow us in, filling the Aquila and Lighters. Get them geared up with our best, and armoured as heavily as we can supply. Victoria will take command of the first wave.

The rest of you know your places in all this. Do your jobs well, for Him. He is with us, especially in this."

Alexium bowed deeply. It was understood.

"Roderick, my friend, stay frosty up there. No glory hogging for me on this go around; if you see that sorcerer bastard, hold the trigger down until he is paste. In the Emperor's name. I'll see you when it is over."

Alexium felt their heart rate rise slowly. It was almost time now. They calmed their breathing, held their las pistol steady, and gently clicked off the safety with their thumb.

"For Him, the Astropath echoed."

She grimaced.

"Understood."

She didnt like the idea that she was now the tip of the spear instead of a rear line support personnel. It couldn't be helped now. She and Alexium were the most powerful psykers aboard the ship and that meant they were uniquely suited to sniff out the unsanctioned psyker.


At least she would have some 50 soldeirs at her back.

Brenonya snapped on her helmet, and started calling out orders and making hand signals to armsmen officers. She could feel the blood rise in her as the battle loomed ever closer. It was almost time to bring the wrath of the Immortal Emperor down on those who much deserved it, adrenaline seeped into her system just at the thought of it.

The ships screamed out of the sky. While the dust concealed much, Claymore jetted forth into the dust, blasting his twin-linked lasers onto the top of the castle. They carved a wide furrow through the stone, destroying a large, bloody altar at the top. The stone exploded outward, crushing several robed individuals surrounding it, as well as several nude individuals who where bound and gagged. The aquila followed, blasting its autocannon onto a space nearby and taking out a small squad of strange creatures, landing down and opening its ramp to let your group out; the Arvus lighters landing nearby and disgorging their payload.

The claymore was less lucky, banking upwards and striking a tower that was hidden in the dust, leading to it collapsing onto the location where the broken altar was.

The top of the castle was a complex array of troughs and towers, centered around the altar. The altar was surrounded by bound & gagged slaves, seeming to be quite unaware of what was happening. An octogonal pattern of troughs, filled with blood, flowed down from the altar through a series of pools and to a throne in the north. The throne was surround by strange, inconsistent monsters, clearly animals mutated far beyond any normal means. At the back of these groups, robed people stood, occasionally prodding the animals to keep them in place.

On the throne itself was a man, surrounded by pulsing, glowing power. From his hands bled eldritch light; from his eye, beams of maddening brightness.

The man on the throne:

Castle top map:

The squad led their troops into battle against the strange monstrous beings & the sorcerers. The landing had definitively interrupted the ritual; the runnels of blood had been broken, allowing it to flow out into a huge puddles that made the surface slick. The mass of monsters, prodded forwards by their sorcerous masters, charged your lines like the wild beasts they where.


Roderick was fuming under his collar as he felt the vibrations of the collision echo through his body. He took the impact personally, as an affront to heritage. Letting a mount become fouled at the gallop led to deaths and lost prestige, not to mention the loss of fine horse flesh. He glowered out of the canopy at the battle about to take place below and wrestled for control, throwing the craft into a tight bank. The nose came around perfectly, lining him up for another attack run. The bit was between his teeth now, and Roderick was not going to come back without a few kill markers for the fuselage. His attack run did major damage to their foes, the lascannons slicing through nearly unprotected monstrous flesh.

The lander hits ground and Torian explodes into action, giving pinpoint commands to each squad of troopers to surge forward out of the lander and take firing positions. He pulls his camo cloak over himself for whatever benefit that might give him, then strides forward out the landing hatch, boltgun blazing. With each step he fires as fast as the boltgun can give him, hoping to at least suppress the enemy while his forces get in position, and at best to hit something fleshy and living. He felt his frustration and anger at those impetuous glacean peasants drive him forwards. As he moves forwards he continues attempting to give calm and precise information flowing to his troops, getting them into the best positions and marking cover and enemy troops, but there's simply too much incoming information and too much to process. This sort of mass warfare is new to Torian, more used to back-alley murder and political assassination than commanding troops. As he noticed his commands slipping, he noted mentally a need to study up drastically on military command and tactics. He would become better at this, for next time. Unfortunately, the troops suffered from your lack of experience, several dying while being placed outside of safety.

As ignatio watched the interceptor he'd labored in ritual over for hours crash sideways into the stone tower, every organic part remaining in him cringed.

Opening a vox link to Roderick's cockpit, and without any change in tone, he transmitted "My lord, I believe there may be some confusion. While the interceptor is named 'Claymore', it is not in fact a close combat weapon. Please refrain from making physical contact with the enemy."

As the aquila lander opened and the crew rushed onto the field, time slowed down for ignatio as he analyzed the situation.

Premise: Filiantius armsmen possess superior ranged firepower.
Premise: Major Assholes likely pose a significant threat in close combat.
Conclusion: Major Assholes must be prevented from closing with armsmen.

++Chirurgeon Quinneus, remove bindings from prone humans++, he sent in a burst of techno-lingua, as his servo-skull flew forward to use his surgical tools to clip the bindings of the various slaves arrayed across the floor. The surviving slaves where largely non-reactive, their eyes empty; had they been drugged?

Leaving the servo-skull to that task, he ran up to the edge of the cover provided by the tower, pulling his power axe and a frag grenade. Activating the blade, he prepared to hold the line and keep the enemy from closing across the kill box provided by the open field. The grenades launched where innefective however, destroying more elements of cover than enemies.

Alexium moved to a safe location, after the momentary shock of losing Roderick had warn off once they realized their idiot friend was still alive.

Hearing Ignatio's jest over the radio, Alexium couldn't help but also egg Roderick on. "Glad I never gave you the hoverboard. You'd have died like fuckin' immediately, Hot-Rod!" The jest helped normalize the chaos of the situation.

Alexium, and Roderick for that matter, had been in combat before on their previous ship. But Alexium had never been a part of anything like this. The Astropath wasn't even sure what to do exactly at first. Then they remembered that Brenonya would be watching. Torian and Ignatio jumped into action, and they knew that doing something - anything - was better than hesitation.

Alexium took up a central position, behind Ignatio, and reached into their pocket. Finding the small green marble, the psyker put their right hand to their temple. Deep breath in. Long breath out... for as long as it took, Alexium would guide the hands and souls of the loyal gathered around.


For what else was a "Prophet" to do? The inspiration was potent, reinforcing all individuals on the field and their faith in the emperor.

Lethia moves off the lander and towards the nearest thing that could be called cover. It was a disgrace for someone of her status, but she wasn't going to die for pride's sake. Once on the ground, and out of any direct lines of fire, she lets her psychic senses attune again. She hoped to figure out how much time they had before the ritual was complete, or possibly what they could do to interrupt it. This perception of the aether allowed the troups to react to the actions of the sorcerors, periodically attempting to psychically enhance their troops.

Bren is quiet and still on the ride down. As they form up after landing she lets Victoria do the talking as she takes the center-most point on the line, and on start of the charge she roars out in a bloody fury, "FOR THE EMPEROR!", knowing these monsters would never know His love. Charging in hacking and shredding in a maelstrom of the grinding chain and the unfurling and snapping whip, she is headed straight for the leader. He stalwart attack proved a linchpin to your forces, creating an effective wall blocking the charging monsters.

After the first half-hour of combat, your forces where winning, though only technically. A third of your forces where out of the fight, though nearly a hundred of the monstrous creatures had died, creating of wall of fleshy cover preventing further charges. As your men placed themselves in cover to shoot at the monsters, further troops came to reinforced your group. The troop difference was getting lesser.

Torian drops to the ground, pulls his cloak over himself, and crawls forward until he's in an adequately sheltered position within striking range of the sorcerer. He knew the moment for direct confrontation was approaching. Until then, however, he needed to focus on the people under his command, and do whatever he could to attempt to make up for his failure. This was not the first time Torian led others into death, but truly it never became easier, regardless of how disillusioned and cold he might seem. This was the way of the world, of power. Yet, poor performance on his own part was something that irked Torian. He felt invigorated to do better now.

He put aside his own personal situation within the battle, and focused his attention on the macro perspectives, the tides of the conflict, the strategic map. His looked around, tracking the cover, the movements of his own and enemy troops, the state of the situation. He began steadily giving commands, bringing up one team to overlap another's fire, having one squad shift to take advantage of a pile of corpses as cover, coordinating with the incoming waves being dropped down, instigating medical recovery of the wounded, coordinating resupply for the existing troops, using the geometry of the space to funnel enemy forces into kill lanes.

Roderick streaked down amongst the masses, keeping a careful aim to avoid friendly fire. His lascannons blazed. and sliced through heretic and beast alike. He grunted as he pulled the interceptor around for another attack run and Ignatio's deadpan voice came over the vox,

Thanks for the reminder Old Son, but I think you've instead given me an idea for my next trick. Keep your viewing ports open for this next run.

His voice changed in gravity as he addressed Alexium with a sigh. Yes, it hasn't been my finest hour. Stick close to Brenonya so she may hold you tight and keep you safe!

The interceptor approached for another run, but began to lose altitude as Roderick changed tactics...

Ignatio's first tactic hadn't borne fruit. The frag grenades he'd thrown just seemed to make these monsters angrier, and even intensified their violent charge toward the Filiantius lines. He watched as the Lady Brenonya charged forward in pious abandon, cutting deep rents in the enemy's line and provoking them to swarm around her. Amazingly, she managed not to be overwhelmed.

As illogical as it seemed, the Master of Arms' berzerk charge was working; the only thing more illogical would be to deny the reality before his eyes.

Only one viable tactic remained. The electro-graft on his right hand slotted into the haft of his power axe, and the energy around the cog-shaped axe-blade flared to life.

"Engage the linkage, Omnissiah," he chanted from the War Cant of Mars, as he strode forward, raising the weapon high. "Our Truth has come online!"

The Magos charged power-axe first into the monsters swarming around Lady Brenonya, cutting them off as they began to surround her.

Seeing the line move forward at Brenonya's magnificent charge, and their human (machine) shield running after her, Alexium realized they needed to move up as well. They hopped on the hoverboard and kept going as slowly as it could while staying in motion. The entire time, they projected their thoughts and healing, invigorating, impassioned words of the Emperor of Humanity out to all the Filianatus forces they rode near.


midst the carnage and fury of combat Brenonya Helahla could feel the rhythm of it ebb and flow, so as she heard Alexium's voice she moved with the sway of the words and on occasion gruntingly spoke them under her breath. And so as she saw down the abdomen of a vile heretic she finished the line out loud, "...is at hand."

She saw another opponent's boots were soaked in the blood of the last one. Which prompted her to move in a blur of a quick step forward and reap their blood-soaked leg outward, so as they fell she raked her grox whip up and it shredded the entire right side as it coiled, snapped, and let go.

"...blood at the emperor's feet," she continued only half following along. While she had had the words memorized since before her training started, the fury of battle took enough of her focus that she could only partially complete phrases.

Finally pulling the chainsword out of the bloody stump of the chaos-worshipper she had sawed in half earlier only to butte one incoming combatant in the head with the hilt, flip it the other direction, and less pierce but more grind their face with tip of the chainsword.

"...rune of protection is inscribed upon you..."

She saw Ignatio swing his battle ax at an opponent so she flicked her whip at the screaming thing that used to feed the darkness in the world and pull the opposite direction of the swing, which caused the top of the cut to cleave off of the bottom. "...the warrior within you guides your weapons," she seemed almost to say that to Ignatio, whether she meant to it was not even clear to her in the heat of battle. The splatter created a circular splatter and made a distinct stripe of crimson across Bren's white and gold power armor.

And following the last verse Alexium spoke into her head she bellowed out another furious command while pointing her chainsword at the leader, "FLAY THE VERMIN HERETIC!"

But all this skill and effort was largely for naught-the sorcerors where finally getting the blessings of their dark lords. Some rained fire on your troops, annihilating cover; other gave skin of steel that bullets bounced off of; or seemingly reacted before your decisions came into play. Your troops where pushed back inch by inch, kept together solely by the sheer skill of their leaders.

But the situation did not improve. A powerfull rumble, that had been building up for minutes, finally exploded out of the mountain. A giant winged reptile, resembling the mythical dragon, flew out, it's eyes focused on the strange metal bird that was the Claymore.

The sorceror on the throne finally stirred, standing up and looking at his monsters. Clearly, these invaders where weak; and by cutting off the head, he would be rid of them quickly. He focused his attention towards Brenyonya, clearly the most skilled amongst his foes, and started flying towards her. He would be on you in seconds.

The dragon flew forth, spewing warp-fire onto your troops. Your group was capable of dodging behind cover to protect themselves, but a good dozen armsmen where burned. Using the distraction, the sorcerer moved forwards, deploying his power onto the one who was clearly most dangerous-Brenonya, in her golden armor. His hand moved forwards, into a claw and grasping, from a distance, her heart. Her resilience allowed her to survive it, but it would be a few seconds before her heart beat properly again.

As Roderick began to lose altitude, preparing for a more daring run over the lines of the enemy, he saw the form of a wyrm from ancient Dalmore legend explode out of the mountainside and rain fire on his party. For a moment he gaped at creature and prayed to the God Emperor they managed to avoid the flames and return fire. He brought the nose of Claymore around in a smooth motion giving him plenty of time to line up with his lascannons and attempt to bring the beast down. He was pleased to feel the controls respond so smoothly and almost guide his hand. The targeting systems flickered from red to green as he lined up the shot, prompting him to pull the trigger. There was a flash of red inside the cockpit as the twin-linked lascannons fired. Both energy beams slammed into the beast, searing through flesh, bone, and sinew with surprising ease. Roderick grinned hungrily as he watched it flap its wings uselessly to stay aloft. As it fell to the ground, Roderick was already changing course to come back and help with the larger battle. He couldn't help but quip over the vox to the squad, There can only be one Lord of the skies, here... before laughing raucously at his own pun and cutting the link.

The situation changed rapidly. The vile witch had extended his twisted power over the warp to strangle Lady Brenonya, while his horrifying pet monster flew impossibly through the air and breathed a gout of fire across the ranks.

<Activating tactical cogitation> flashed over Ignatio’s vision as time slowed down once again. He leapt forward, rolling to his feet as the gout of flame passed over him. As he rolled up to one knee, he watched, still in slow-motion, as the interceptor fired a flurry of lascannons into the side of the daemonic creature, leaving steaming holes in its hide as it convulsed in mortal agony.

Pulling free his meltagun, logis-implant straining to maintain the slow-motion of tactical cognition,  he brought the weapon to bear, an ominous hum ringing as the melta charged, pointing across the field at the man who sought to rule this world with the dark powers of the warp.

He turned the volume of his vox to the maximum, to ensure that the vile sorcerer heard him.

“BY THE OMNISSIAH’S LIGHT, BURN!”

A vicious blast of plasma reached across the field, a stream of star-stuff lancing out to scorch the sickness from this world. The blast struck the sorcerer, causing him to snap his head back, before bring it frontwards... That stung ... he said through clenched teeth.

Torian pulls his body in so tightly his ligaments ache and strain, holding himself back from the dragons breath blazing down. It abates and he quickly extends himself again, pulls up to finally put the power of a breaking sun into that chaos bastard. He holds his breath, aiming steadily, timing the beats of his heart, and pulls the trigger. Grox-damned thing jams. Shoddy piece of shit...

Alexium moved with the troops as the battle shifted. As the dragon came out to reveal itself, the Astropath was torn. The beast was a fierce opponent, clearly capable of reducing them all to ash, but the psyker was an abomination, capable of bringing ruin to the entirety of the system, as it had already done to many of Joanne's people.

The child raged internally, ultimately giving into the fact that Roderick could take care of himself. Focusing with their small fingers on the green marble in their pocket and a lifetime of hatred for the unsanctioned in their heart, Alexium reached out with their right hand.

"Know us NO MORE," the child yelled as a tempest of energy built up inside of them and slammed out toward the sorcerer. But it wasnt enough-his mind was clearly resilient, barely being bothered. He smiled a wide grin in Alexium's direction.

Lethia moves in front of any companions, (any important ones at least) and spoke boldly unto her enemies.
"Misguided fools! Eyes on me! The sorcerer has duped you and turned you away from the light of the emperor for the twisted gods of the empyrean. Fret not! There is retribution here, in my eye. Look into it for redeption of your soul!"

Having already removed her silken headband that covered the eye, she opened her eye into those that dared look. She was partly lying, for looking into the eye would cast their souls into the warp; but by denying the sorcerer of his food for the chaos deities, they also would gain redemption. But the ploy mostly failed-while a couple of monsters stared at you, falling into paralysis, the shout attracted several of your own men who suffered similarly. The sorcerer was unnafected-you slight, reedy voice not carrying to him in the din of battle!

Seeing the destruction of the Dragon, the high sorcerer set his face more grimly. His hands started darting in strange, irregular ways, and those with a familiarity with the warp felt that he was pushing far beyond what a normal psyker could. Suddenly, the world went black, then became all the possible colors imaginable. Lethia could recognize it-the warp, its madness brought to sight by the sorcerer's foolhardyness.

The chaos of the warp wrapped around you all-the only constant you could all see was the sorcerer. In this place, he was not a mere man-he was an ebony collossus. On his surface where creatures crucified and wailing-a man, an eldar, an ork, and 5 xenos you had never before seen. The screems pleased the collosus, and they never stopped. Around the collossus danced eight demonic imps, feeding it the fell power of the warp.

You view was limited, but you could see something of the souls around you. To Alexium & Ignatio, Brenonya appeared as a small duckling with golden down, and the power of the warp seemed to flow off of it like water off a duck's back. To Benonya, Alexium appeared vague-a bank of fog hiding a lit candle. To Brenonya and Torian, Ignatio appeared as a pile of spining clockwork, though several stuck gears seemed to hamper the mechanism. And to Ignatio, Torian also, unnacountably, appeared as a duckling-but his down was black, and it was scarred, an anger passing through it.

Suddenly, the vision dissipated, and the real reasserted itself. Around the sorcerer appeared a sphere of force-a kine-shield, tool of the telekinetic's craft. And a thick one at that. The sorcerer then set himself down on the ground, and held his staff like spear, whispering in twisted arcane tongue until the air around him seemed to move oddly. He was ready to face you all-and he would not be easy prey.

Torian was unfazed by this vision. He had experiences witchery before, had felt other presences in his mind. It was something beyond his control, and he did not allow it to distract him from the task at hand. He was no psyker, but his mind was not without its own cold, calculating willpower. He knew this sorcerer would quickly overwhelm his mind, however, and knew he needed to add to a barrage against that kine-shield. He deftly unjammed his inferno pistol before popping up from cover and snapping off a shot. The air snapped and popped as the dust and water vapor in the air exploded under the furious intensity of the plasma beam. It roared out of his pistol for a short second before he pulled himself back under cover, his ears ringing and his vision full of the after-image of starfire. The shot reflected off the kine-shield without any impact.

Seeing the fall of his foe complete, Roderick's eyes were drawn to the firefight that was happening between the squad and the sorcerer. Eldritch forces and glowing weapons fire were lancing back and forth, though he couldn't tell who was winning. He felt his desire to lend a hand build, but he quashed the idea as foolhardy. His weapons were made for air to air combat, and, though effective, may hit his allies instead. He shook his head and grudgingly resigned them to their own battle. They would have to make it without him. The larger battle though needed his help. From the lofted vantage point, he could see their troop formations were struggling under the weight of the foe. Lines were buckling and bowing in places where the press of the creatures was taking the most toll. Swinging Claymore around for another run, he cut his altitude again and brought the interceptor as low as possible. As he passed over the enemy lines, he used the sound of his engines, and the jet wash as a weapon to cause as much havoc and disorientation as possible. If the odd lid was popped by a passing wing, then all the better in his mind.

Ignatio's mechanically upgraded mind partitioned the disturbing imagery from the momentary lapse of reality in the face of the sorcerer's dread power away for later analysis.

Instead, he focused momentarily on the sorcerer's utterance. A recorded image of his face as he spoke the words 'That stung' played over his vision. Below that, words appeared: 'effect on target confirmed'.

The telekinetic shield around the sorcerer was highlighted, along with new words: 'New defense in place, weapon effectiveness unknown'.

No further words needed to be spoken. Instead, the Magos communed with the sacred melta's machine spirit through his electro-graft connection. Sighting down the melta's barrel at the vile witch, Ignatio squeezed the meltagun's trigger as he sought further experimental data.

The meltagun answered his call, and roared its wrath across the battlefield. It penetrated a miniscule flaw in the kine-shield, inflicting devastating rays on the sorcerer, causing welts and burns to appear on his skin; though the incredibly resilient robe he wore seemed unnafected.

She knew that now she was near the front, with her enemies directly in front of her that she was in a somewhat safe position for a navigator. With her eye open, those who dared aim at her risked the stripping of souls,

This attempt was more succesfull, killing multiple foes in front of your lines and relieving pressure on the armsmen.

Alexium's mind took in the vileness of the Warp and blocked it like the shield on his arm would to an autopistol. They were steeled against this, one of only a tiny fraction who went on the Black Ships and returned. This was their playground. Alexium could only hope the others would hold fast as well.

~~ HOLD FAST ~~, the Astropath pushed into the minds of those nearby. When reality came back, they called out, "It's a telekinetic shield! Keep on him!"

Pulling deep within themselves, from reserves of which they rarely pulled, reserves in which the light of the Emperor's presence dwelt, Alexium pointed both small arms out at the sorcerer. "KNOW. US. NO MORE!!" The power assailed the sorcerer, blinding him to the surrounding world.

The High Sorcerer's eyes where unfocsed, distracted. Suddenly, a powerful actinic glow escaped from his neck-ruff, and he regained his focused again, on the principal threat: the tech-priest. He made a sudden, powerful leap, stopping himself right in melee range with Ignatio. This was a terrible mistake. Torian stared him dead in the face and said "Fuck your robe.". The melta struck the sorcerer, with the kine-shield deflecting most of it.

After strafing along the lines of beasts and slave warriors, Roderick had, what he thought, was a stroke of brilliance. Though he wouldn't tempt fate and try to fire on the sorcerer, he felt confident enough on this new mount to attempt something more daring than anyone back at the academy could have imagined, using it as a melee weapon.

His hands gripped the controls tighter as he smiled roguishly at his own daring, and he could hear the sound of the pipes playing in his ears as he swung around for another strafing run. The battle below sped past as he focused on the sorcerer and his party, locked in a swirling melee. Sweet Mother Dalmore, give me strength, he thought as he was suddenly almost on top of them. At the last moment he jerked the stick to the side, while keeping Claymore's nose pointing in the same direction. This caused the interceptor to "roll" with its wings changing from parallel to the ground to perpendicular, essentially turning the craft into a blade that sliced through the air. The wing closest to the ground passed between his allies elegantly and hit the heretic with the force of the God Emperor Himself. In a flash, Roderick was gone and the jet-wash of his passing encompassed everyone nearby, buffeting them and knocking some to the ground.

Roderick looked back over his shoulder to check that he had hit the right person and make sure everyone else was OK as he tore off into the distance again. He couldn't get a good look, but there were no howls of dismay from anyone over the vox to confirm friendly fire, so he must have nailed the bastard as intended. Sorry Ignatio old son, but I could not resist giving it a try. Turns out this thing is built for close combat!

The sorcerer was blown off the wall with tremendous force. His kine-shield was annihilated, and he was flung down on your side of cover
Brenonyah through it all struggled against the psychic attack willing body to shrug off the effects and at one point she swore she saw some trippy shit. And on regaining full control of her body she seemed to effortlessly spring up from the ground to her feet. She did not speak a word, just gave a gruff heave then screamed deep and loud.

As she scream she cast out her groxwhip and it made the typical crack sound as her arm flexed back at just the right point for the force of it to end dead on the heretic. No one saw it, but she grinned wide as the hit landed and the spikes of the weapon threshed across their body, latching onto the neck. As she pulled back, the head became separated from the body and in an instant the whip retracted back to her only a blink of eye later. She breathed a heavy, angry sigh that also came out as a bit of a laugh.

The sorcerer was well and truly dead, his head several meters from his sprawled corpse. The monsters, mindless that they where, where still fighting; but to the sorcerers leading them, this would be a heavy blow to morale.

As the head flew off, Brenonyah caught the falling body of the filth then hefted the headless corpse. She recited some lines from the Fede Imperialis by heart, "That thou wouldst bring them only death, That thou shouldst spare none, That thou shouldst pardon none. We beseech thee, destroy them." Then let the body drop from her gauntleted hands with a bloody smack back behind her as she prepared to reengage the heretic legion around her. She could feel the God Emperor's wrath build in intensity within, and embraced that feeling wholeheartedly.

Alexium smiled at Brenonya's declaration and promise of death to the enemy. As they rushed by her on the hoverboard, heading to the sorcerer's body, they couldn't help but scream out:

"You are super fucking hot right now, Bre."

It was an exhilarating feeling, having the tide turn like this. Alexium then projected to Lethia. ~~~ They can take it from here. We need to strip the body of anything that may regenerate this asshole ~~~

Torian made no attempt to stay afoot in the face of Rodrick's jetwash. He knew his capabilities in this universe, and resisting the push of a jet fighter's engines was not one of them. Instead he braced his body, then let the pressure slip him into a forward roll that he maintained, losing the momentum carefully calculated and safely. He pushed himself upright and saw Brenonya's glorious victory unravel. He smirked, a look of satisfaction and smugness at seeing an enemy defeated. His demeanor changed towards mirth at seeing Bren in her true element: coated in blood, screaming death to the winds. It was good to see her have her moment. More importantly, stories of this would reach the ears of their allies, imparting both the fervor with which we engaged their foe, and the might of our forces. It would add significantly to their bargaining position.

With the main threats defeated, Torian took control of the battlefield once again. He reengaged with his officer corps, coordinating the ground forces and bringing up reserves to replace weary and ammo-poor front-line troops, utilizing morale routes to push the enemy into lanes of fire.

The victory was still fresh in Roderick's ears as he made pass after pass, low over the battlefield. The move he had pulled off against the sorcerer had given him an idea for a modification Ignatio may well be interested in, though he'd just as likely get so worked up he'd cuss at the concept too. Wing. Glaives...In these massed battles, they'd be a hell of a thing to behold. Also, some way of projecting the Pipes of Dalmore in the cockpit wouldn't be a bad thing. He'd save those ideas for later though, right now he needed to help scatter this horde and end the battle. He kept up the pressure from the skies.

Ignatio was knocked to the ground as he pulled his power axe to raise some opposition to the sorcerer's attack, his mind once again slipping into the slow motion of tactical cogitation. He watched as above him the body of the sorcerer flew through the air, thrown by the impact of the interceptor against his unsuspecting back.

'I was incorrect,' he mused internally. 'This must be the will of Claymore's spirit.'

Then he watched as Bre's whip uncoiled through the air, wrapping around the sorcerer's head, and tearing it off.

With a rushing sound, everything returned to normal. Sensing that the moment must be taken advantage of, Ignatio rolled back up to his feet, leveling his meltagun over the corpse-cover, and targeted the most hardened of the monstrous targets across the field with it. It was time to purge the sickness from this world with fire.

The morale boost from the victory drove your forces forwards. The groups led by Ignatio targeted the toughest monsters, wiping them from the board. Brenyonya's fierce speech made a number of the backline sorcerers flee, afraid of the star-born enemy. The others got overwhelmed, killed by the very monsters they where meant to control. In these minutes, the monsters where slaughtered, and the top of the castle became a slaughtering ground.

Victory achieved, Ignatio turned to the fallen, breaking out his advanced medikit to repair the damaged organic components of the fallen soldiers, or to cut away the unsalvageable and prepare what was left for augmetic replacement.

"Your previous arm of flesh no longer serves you," he reassured one screaming soldier as his servo-skull injected a heavy dose of tranq and he began to carve away the mauled remains of the limb. "It will be replaced with silica and steel," he promised.

Roderick watched as the enemy began to melt under the renewed pressure of the assaulting forces. Without the fell leadership of the sorcerer, the rest were losing heart and coordination. He added to this by hounding their ranks again and again in low swooping passes, trying to perform the same execution he had on their leader. It was going to take a lot of practice to perform the feat again, but he was more than happy to try.

Once the enemy was routed, he approached the landing zone, hovered in place while the landing gear extended, and landed softly. His skills in the sky were no longer needed, but perhaps he could offer help with the wounded. He made his way towards the rampart of bodies where he last saw the sorcerer and noticed the drakon laying in a colossal heap nearby. He eyed the wing and thought of mighty cape he would craft from it. If it were safe of course, with Brenonya's blessing. He looked for his friend in the swirling ranks of soldiers, but ran into Ignatio first, removing the arm of a wounded soldier. He watched with interest as the servo skull hovered around him offering help where needed. After another half minute of watching he spoke up. I've got another idea for a modification to Claymore if you're interested to hear it, Ignatio. He didn't wait for an answer and barreled on. He unfolded his arms and made a blade with the flat of one hand, Picture this as the wing frame. Instead of using that as a weapon, which of course could lead to structural complications if too much force is applied, what if we instead modified the wing to include a blade the hangs below and extends out beyond the tip? He made a blade with his other hand, holding it below the "wing" and out in a staggered formation to emphasis his idea. It could be incredibly useful in engagements of this sort where proximity to allies makes the use of the lascannons too dangerous. He smiled at his own cleverness then also, It'll give the old mount a name to really live up to then, what do you reckon? Having come to help, he had now been sidetracked, and ignored the situation around him. The tired and wounded soldiers swirled around him as he bantered with the Magos.

She nods, though Alexium wasn't watching.
"Take charge here." she orders the accompanying soldiers through heavy breaths.

She then heads towards the headless body of the sorcerer. She was glad the most dire threat was taken care of.....

....or was it?

"Lady Brenonya! its possible that the sorcerer was stalling us to complete the ritual. Have your men target the cultists still on the wards.!"