Mission 2: Ruin

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Mission 2: Ruin

Mesaj Scris de 40KANE la data de Mar Mai 02, 2017 11:46 am

“The Ushmir'n Gyalt, the Ruin of Ker-Is. The Prince of Ruin devoured them all, save for this one.” [...] “The doom of our craftworld did not come from without, it came from within; the Prince of Ruin had long desired Ker-Is, but all entry to him was barred by the powerful wards placed over the webway portal, the key to which was possessed by the autarch End'eruk. And so it was that when the autarch’s own daughter, End'iran, came of maturity, one of the princes most favored placed a glamour upon itself transforming into a perfect vision of eldar beauty. None could resist its guile, least of all the naïve girl, and she fell deeply and passionately in love with him… submitting to his will in every way, including stealing the key to the gateway from her father. The ensuing war against the invading daemon host was long and bloody. Some of us fought to the very end, End'iran included. Such was her shame in being tricked in such a fashion and her desire for redemption, and proved to be the final casualty in the battle for the craftworld. Her daemon lover entered the chamber of the awakening avatar possessing the Aspect of Khaine and wrecking bloody havoc upon the already shattered craftworld. In one final act of desperation, End'iran faced the avatar alone, her fury at her lover’s treachery driving her on, her body having long since past the point of exhaustion, the daemon avatar pressed home his advantage and ended her life song. Maybe it was because the stain on her soul was so indelible that the spirit stone on End'iran’s breast turned the purest black. The daemon avatar tore it from her armor and he must’ve placed it here when he feasted on the souls of my people; one final act of desecration.”


Ultima editare efectuata de catre 40KaNE in Mier Sept 13, 2017 3:11 pm, editata de 1 ori
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40KANE
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Re: Mission 2: Ruin

Mesaj Scris de 40KANE la data de Mier Sept 13, 2017 3:11 pm

Past the warded wraithbone archway, the landing zone was still hot with lesser daemons; the same bizarre gangling monstrosities the Kill-team fought when they arrived, twisting and squirming, screaming and moaning in a profane display of both agony and pleasure. The Corvus Blackstar’s missile pods and cannons sprung to life as it approached and in a flash of promethium and shrapnel the beasts were purged from the material plane. Through the smoke and flames the three surviving battle brothers dashed for the already lowered entry hatch of the hovering spacecraft, carrying the body of the unconscious Inquisitor. As they ran, the air once again filled with static charge, flickering arcs of blue lightning flailing at their armour. Writhing limbs and tentacles manifested themselves out of thin air, new deamons jerking and twisting, clawing at the very fabric of existence, waiting to be reborn. With a rapid slash of his force sword, Azarrah beheaded a slender female daemon that had materialized right in front of them, clearing the final stretch of the way. As if rehearsed, the shuttle backed away the instant their ceramite boots hit the ramp, launching a final barrage of frag missiles to cover its departure. The vile screams of anguish turned to silence as the hatch closed. Once on board and out of danger, Maxwell spared himself a glance down at his narthecium - his sacred duty complete, the gene-seed of his fallen brothers will soon be returned to their parent chapters that they may live on through the creation of future generations of Space Marines.
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