The Shattered Blade

And it had all been going so well…




Gwyn
The last thing you clearly remember is the light and a concussive force that seemed to pick you up and shake you like a hapless ragdoll. It was strange, there hadn’t seemed to be any sound after the initial blast, you just recall silent and still picture images.

Huge bubbling clouds of flame.

One of the Kabal’s flags…burning, held in the shattered hands of the bannerman.

The Raider you had been riding on splitting apart beneath you, metal and plassteel shredding apart like paper in a sandstorm.

The golden red sand rushing towards you till it was all you could see.



It takes the pleasing pangs of your own suffering to wake you up again. All around you lays the shattered remains of the vanguard of the Flashing Blade. The Raiders, Venoms, even the Razorwings sprawl in smoking, blackened ruins around you. Nearby a Chronos squeals as it tries to lift its shattered bulk up from the ground, black blood and putrid green oils gush out in streams from its cracked shell, and then the vicious beast falls silent and motionless again. You crawl out from underneath your wrecked vehicle, marveling at your own survival, and take in the situation around you.

The bombardment had happened within mere minutes of exiting the portal from the Webway. It was clear that only the vanguard had been targeted, though the destruction here is almost absolute it does appear as though the rest of the Kabal is not to be found, undoubtedly they have already retreated back to the safety of the Webway, and judging by the lack of a portal crackling in the sky overhead, they chose to seal the passage behind them.

All around you lays the red sands of the desert, stretching off in every direction, only the far flung Ork infested mountains to the north and the towering black spire of the distant mon’keigh Hive City to the south break the ashy gray horizon of the sky. You spot the remnants of Archon Elkthrae’s raider, still sporting his pennants which now flap feebly in the stale and smoky air. Here and there you can just pick out a slight movement in the shadows, or the form of a confused figure arising from their wrecked vehicle, there is no threat from them, yet, it is clear that you are all nothing more than ragged and lucky survivors alone on a hostile world.

You are not sure what happened, but you do know you want to find out, and also find a way to escape this wretched backwater alive, it might be smart to try to see what supplies and clues you can find, and also to see about allying yourself, at least temporarily, with the other survivors.

Vecrelonis

A small trace of ice creeped up the side of shattered hull of the Raider as inky black hands reached up and pulled someone from the darkness of the shadow. Vecrelonis was tired, the trek across the desert and the multiple shadow ports had left him weakened and hungry…though he at least supposed both problems could be solved at the same time.

He pulled his hood up around him, casting his face into shadows to help hide him from the unbearably constant assault of the blazing pair of suns overhead. He then began walking around, sniffing the air, trying to catch the scent of fresher blood which would doubtless lead him to an ally he could use to help escape this world…or at least someone so far gone that he could refuel a bit after offering them some tender mercy from the pain of their wounds.

Berginyon ‘Manix’

His foot slammed up against the roof of the cockpit again…he had lost count of how many times he had struck it now.

When the shockwave had hit it had batted his Razorwing from the sky like a child’s toy. Though he had managed to guide it down even missing a wing and with almost no engines, the crash had trapped him within the damaged cockpit. The mon’keigh had been well prepared for the assault, the fragmentation and air burst bombardment had been optimally designed and optimally timed to shatter a Dark Eldar raiding force in the air.

The fact that it had targeted only the vanguard and not the main body of the host did make Berginyon wonder a bit; had it simply been dumb luck that had allowed the humans to target the attack…or had the perfectly positioned and designed bombardment been prearranged…

With a shuddering snap the cockpit burst open, trickles of golden red sand raining down on top of him as Berginyon breathed in the stale air, the burning heat of it tracing through his lungs as he breathed in, already his mouth becoming grimy with the taste of the filthy mon’keigh air.

But he was free now, and whoever had attacked them had not managed to kill him, and that was going to be their mistake… He climbed out of the cockpit, turning this way and that to see if there were any other survivors. He saw a bit of movement amongst the ruins, a cloaked figure stalking along quietly, a few figures near the shattered remains of his father’s command barge, maybe some others. Berginyon snarled as he pulled himself out of the shattered cockpit, already wishing he had a working jetbike with him.

He was not made to *walk*



Vivi and Venra

The red gold sands quake as a black armored hand thrusts out of them, Venra pulling himself to the surface, the re-breather unit in his armored helmet the only thing that had allowed him to survive. He pauses as he works to free himself from his sandy tomb, glancing up at the smoking hulk of the command barge around him – Archon Elkthrae’s craft. Venra had been on the prow when an almost direct hit had sent it crashing into the desert. Sitting upon the wreckage was Vivi, the Haemonculus assigned to the battle barge, who had been working on reattaching one of his parody clockwork knees to his leg.

Vivi paused to watch the rebirth of the Incubus pulled himself out of his grave, then returned to his knee, if the missing limb caused him any discomfort it did not show, and it looked like soon enough he would have it reattached.

He remembered the last moments of the attack, Archon Elkthrae had been handed a datacrystal reader just as the attack had swept out of the webway portal. Venra could remember his Archon sitting there on the Raider, reading the information, and then that twisted laugh of his as he looked up and the bombardment started.

His Archon had been at the rear of the Raider… Venra loosened himself, glancing up at the dark bulk of the twisted command Raider. Archon Elkthrae was there, still strapped into the navigator’s chair, his body torn open by shrapnel, but his face was untouched and looked almost serene even splattered in blood and pale as death. His arms were outstretched, as if in acceptance or dismissal of the attack that had destroyed him and his men, the blackened and charred digits curled into almost unrecognizable claws.

Venra approached slowly, dipping his head slightly in farewell.

Then Elkthrae’s eyes snapped open and he let out a clotted cough of brackish black blood!

Even Vivi started in surprise at that, clearly having already looked at the Archon and having written him off as dead, though apparently some mixture of the intricate bio-gear in his armor and his own personal tenacity still allowed the Archon to live. One of his eyes was milky white, blinded by the flash of one of the bombs, the other was clouded and unfocused, and Venra wondered if he even could see them standing in front of him.

“Clever…she…outsmarted me.” He managed a croaking and distorted laugh that caused a spasm to wrack through his chest and more blood to dribble from his wounds. The laugh wound down to a long wheeze that eventually fell silent, as the ruined body of the Archon finally gave up its struggle.

All was silent once again.

Spoiler:

"Crazy old dog... It's a wonder he survived..." Vivi turned toward the Incubus. "Don't tell me your name soldier, I don't care. But, right now it's time for you to fulfill the duty this Archon paid you for. We have to get him back to Commorragh, and get him back into fighting shape, I'm sure he'll want his revenge..."

Vivi finished snapping his leg back into place and bent it back and forth to try it out. Finding it to work fine he walked over to the dead archon. A knife was produced, seemingly from the flesh of the haemunculous himself, and within seconds, the he held the milky white eye, freshly removed from the archon.

"I think I'll carry this, better to insure my chances of you not cutting me in twain the first chance you get..."

Vivi made a small incision just under his ribcage and gently pushed the eyeball inside, deftly using the knife to attach it to a small blood vessel.

"That should keep it fresh enough to remake him... Well, c'mon we need to scout the rest of these wrecks and hope there's a working webway portal somewhere amongst them." Vivi eyed the wreckage. "I have a sneaking suspicion that this one is probably in no shape to get us back..."

The wretched creature began walking towards the closest smoking wreck on the horizon. Suddenly he turned back to the incubus. "Oh, and keep in mind, if I die, then you fail at your duty and your honor, whatever those may mean to you..."

"If you care not for my name, then at least use the correct title. Klaivex" While the Heamonculi is doing his work on the eye. His shakes his whole body, causing the last bits of dirt to fall from his armor. He checks his Demi-klaive for any obvious damage. Drops his left hand and pats his left thigh, checking for something. These movements well practiced. "You may carry him, if it gives you peace of mind." His voice emits from his helmet, flat and emotionless.

"This was a trap. One that poorly executed, wasn't effective enough." As he falls in to step beside the heamonculi. Heading towards the next wreck. "If you die, I don't not fail my contract. If he is not brought back then I have failed. Currently you are the most effective way of accomplishing that task." He is constantly scanning their surroundings, as he is saying this. He is checking every shadow, crater, and every high point.

"We are both employed by the kabal, we need not be antagonistic."

Vecrelonis walks over, removing his hood, a kabalite he pulled from the wreckage over his shoulder. He sits down to remove the armour. "You two! In case you don't know me, I am the archons assasin, I already know who you both are so don't bother with introductions, fleshcrafter and incubus. Is there a working craft to at least get us out of this forsaken ditch?" Vecrelonis finished removing away a sizeable chunk of the plating and ripped a piece of flesh from the body putting it in his fanged maw.

As Gwyn try's to understand how this has happened. The how quickly becomes unimportant as the sheer scale of what has happened becomes apparent as I climb to my feet.
Casting around searching for my rifle Finding it only a few meters away, knocked free in the crash, walking slowly towards it noting how accurate and perfect the timing of the imperials has been. Picking up the rifle I feel a slight crack on the barrel, not large, big enough to know I will need a new barrel after only a half dozen shots.

Having acquired the important things I quickly take stock of what remains of my kit. Everything else seems to be fine and in place, all bar one of my rifle clips are gone.

Seeing a lone pilot getting out of his downed fighter 'he is as good a place to star as any' while heading towards him keeping a cautious hand on a holstered pistol

Quickly recognizing the Dracon saluting,with my free hand, as I reach him and ask "Are you injured sir? and do you have any sort of quick way off this rock?"

"Easy, Sir Klaivex. You're right, no need for animosity between us..." Vivi scans the horizon and measures the distance to the closest pillar of smoke. "Looks like we have a decent walk even at a brisk pace, so how, friend, did you get mixed up in these shenanigans?"

"I was infiltrating that so called fortress when I heard the noise. I knew assasinating the leaders would simply notify a sleeping giant of our existance." Finishing a last few chunks, Vecrelonis gestures to the horizon. "I think there were a few morsels worth of mon-keigh up ahead, probably searching for survivors anyway. I think I and the incubus can handle them. But the question is, can you handle your wait, old timer? I don't see alot on you in the way of combat."

Manix was not happy.

It was one thing to shoot at him but quiet another to hit him. It was just not fair!

Kicking the fractured glass canopy for the who knows how many time, the panel finally gave way, showing him in warm sand of this filthy world.

Reaching into the emergency compartment he recovered his webbing. A quick check showed that while is beloved pistol and blade had survived, the shard carbine gifted to him by sliscus as a momento for his time with the sky serpents was beyond repair.

Scolding himself for his sentimentality, manix surveyed the carnage. The precision of the attacks worried him. He could see his fathers raider lying broken in the sand, several figures nearby - their silhouettes indicating kin but who knew if they were in on it... Perhaps this was an inside job... Who knew where his brother was, with the portal closed it seemed liked that the main force led by him had retreated. His sister still sat safely in the dark city with their mother.

He needed to find his father... Heads would roll for this insult and manix intended to be there when they did.

Gathering his things, manix looked up to see a fellow kabalite moving towards him. The warrior looked beaten, obviously another survivor. Upon getting closer, the warrior obviously recognised manix and addressed with ritual title.

Giving a curt nod, manix gestured to the wrecked raider of his father.

" I appreciate the help but am fine for now. We need to find a way off this rock. Father should have away assuming he is alive. Let us see what has befallen the archon"

He gestured again to the wreck, the 3 figures moving about it now slowly moving away...

Moving off cautiously, manix kept hs eyes out for a sky board... Or better yet a jetbike. He held little hope of finding one intact but a couple would provide parts to make one operational. There had certainly been many of both in the vanguard... And manix would be happy with either.

Turning back to his companion he said out loud... "Keep an eye out for any vehicle that might still function, we need to clear this area quickly lest the cowards who attacked us return. A venom, raider... Hell, anything we can ride" with that he drew his ornate blast pistol and power sabre... Best to be prepared. I was going to be a long day he could tell

Accepting Manix's instructions with a quick nod I draw my pistols and go out through the wreckages a little to try and spot any vehicles that are worth salvaging on the way towards the archons raider. If I just so happen to spot a corpse with an interesting bit of kit then so be it.

Before a reply, Vecrelonis puts up a charcoal black hand to hold the fleshcrafters response. Vecrelonis picks out a light noise with his supernatural hearing and putting his hood up, drops through the shadow provided by a ravager wreck.
A few seconds later, the assasins head emerged out of another shadow behind a dual splinter pistol wielding and young kabalite with a cloak of shifting colours resting on his back and long rifle strapped across it. He also spied another kabalite who he recognised as the archons own bloodline a few dozen metres away, treading carefuly through the wrecks a dozen metres away. Vecrelonis studied the youth curiously for a few seconds before grabbing him around the mouth as to not cause alarm to the other and than dragged him back through the shadow. Before long, he returned to the others with the warrior in his hands. He let him realise who they were and than released him.
He let the soldier settle down and than flowed into shadow once again and appered next to the other. He realised that doing the same with the dracon would provoke a temper that trueborn tended to have towards those who were lower in rank which would only make the already raging lordling worse. "Lord Berginyon, I think you would know me as your late fathers personal assasin." said Vecrelonis in a slightly respectful but also low, grinding voice.

Watching the mandrake disappear. He splits his Demi-klaive in to two, holding one over his shoulder protecting his back, the other in front of him.
As he reappears with the youth. The red lenses of his helmet seem to focus on the youth. "Who are you? What skills do you have?"

Manix knew something was lurking nearby... The ghostly whisper grew sharper and a light frost hung in the air... Mandrakes...

He knew his father kept at least one skilled killer around and he knew they had been sent ahead of the vanguard..

It came as little surprise then when the temperature dropped sharply and the whisper became a hiss of speech.

'Good to hear you again Vecrelonis, though I must say I am surprised that you risk the sun'

Calmly turning on his heel, he saw the mandrake sliding from the shadows and lowered his blast pistol.

'Have you seen the archon? Does he live?'

Manix gestured to the fallen raider in the distance, silently noting his kabalite warrior was nowhere to be seen yet 3 figures still surrounded the wreckage.

'I need to know what has happened'

He turned and picked up the pace to the downed raider. A few steps from the other kin he slowed and hailed them...

He shifts his face from the youth to Manix. With a slight bow of his head he says "Manix, your father is temporarily out of the fight. Steps have been taken to ensure he will live, once we get back home. Try to refrain from causing unnecessary harm to the Heamonculi, as that would make it more challenging for me to honor my contract."

"It would make it doubly hard for me to honor my part of our bargain, were I to be harmed..." Vivi looked around the assembled part. "As for my abilities? I know my way around a knife, and I can keep you all in fighting condition long enough to get us off this rock. Archon-son, is there any chance the webway device in your raider survived the attack, or can be repaired?"

As I pause to look at a wreck the temperature suddenly drops sharply and frost starts lining my pistols, shadow walkers. After being dragged through the shadows I'm confronted by a haemonculus and an incubus a klaivex if his weapons, which are suddenly threatening me, are anything to go by.

"You could just greet me you know? I've just been dragged through shadow it really isn't in any way pleasant"
Speaking rubbish seemingly while I adjust to where I am. "I am Gwyn ap Nydd warrior of the kabal. Marksmen, scout and damn good sneak-thief, know my way around repairing weapons of most types and can perform simple repairs to flight and anti-grav systems"

As manix appears with the mandrake I quickly stop speaking. Staying silent through exchange except for a small snort when the haemonculus mentions keeping us in the fight.

"Good, If you do not know me. I am Venra Rhacho Klaivex. Klaivex of the Archon's Bodyguards. Melee combat, and awareness of my surroundings is my specialty. Anyone know what raiders were equipped with web ways?"

Vecrelonis whirled around on his heel at the upstart "I didn't want to startle you, boy. You are juvenile and thus a hot head and lack-witt. One unexpected word from behind and you would have been blazing at me, not that it would do anything.
Besides, its quicker than walking and you are a grunt while I'm the archons personal assasin from the inner circle itself. You would be quick to show some respect." said Vecrelonis in a growling voice and with a baleful look in his eye.

"You being the only one to not know of me well, I am Vecrelonis. Ancient mandrake and leader of all of my kind in service to the kabal. Assasination, infiltration, espionage and tracking are studies. Have never failed in a hunt at all."

Manix goes to inspect the raider of his late father, searching for anything of use... (Dm check?)

He also searches and inspects his father (another check?) looking for personal affects, what killed him and items of use)

"I show respect to those that i deem to have earnt it! You are little more than a contracted mercenary, the incubi and haemonculus orders are well known for keeping their contracts what of you as far as is known amongst us kabalites "you showed up one day killed some of the kabals enemies and said id like to work for you" a nice way of gaining trust but not a proof of loyalty, i fight and bleed for the kabal it is my . I respect the Klaivex and the fleshcrafter for they have earnty their place fighting and proving their worth to hire. You, on the other hand, have your skills from having a mother or grandmother or however far back it was who decided to whore herself out to a pack of daemons and then kept the offspring."

Gwyn's eyes follow Manix as he starts searching the ruins.
"now if we are done insulting one another the noble has the right idea and start finding a way off this rock"

Looking towards the KLaivex and fleshcrafter Gwyn worries if he has let his sharp tongue get the better of him and is about to be cut down by the incubus. Shrugging slightly he starts to head towards the next wreck in line telling the group on his way out "I'll have a quick search for any vehicles that may be salvageable unless any of you has a better idea?"

He chuckles,slowly then into an out right laughter. He turns to Vecrelonis. "He has balls. We need as many of us as we can get to survive, not just here, but back home as well." He then watches the mandrake to see if he is intending anything.

"We need all the people we can get, your right, but the gutter crawling wretch better watch his tongue or he might loose it. After all we only need his skills." A flicker of balefire flashed in his hand before being suppresed.
"We need a plan right now that's not just sitting on our asses all day long hoping the kabal comes back for just us five who are probably long dead to them. I say we move at night than take out the patrols."

"Then lets, finishing searching these wrecks for a webway portal, who knows, we find one still working. If that fails, then we can start hunting patrols. Till we find another way back home." He moves up on to a high point of a wreck and scans the area looking for any signs of a vehicle still having power, or patrols. (GM check)

Mandrake, for just a pittance, ill loan you my services with all this tongue business... but, in all seriousness, sir klavex is correct... we do indeed need every one of us, else we will die. Likely the Kabal is finished, even should the good archon or his son make it back to our **glorious** city..." the words rolled off his tongue like venom "the losses suffered here today will make it nigh impossible to fend off rival Kabals. We should all hope that one of our leaders has a excellent plan, else we'll likely lose our skin as well... and I won't speak for the rest of you, but I rather like my skin..."

"If a webway portal dosen't present itself than we can't stay out here forever in this living hell. We need food, water and soul essence. We have either the greenskin infested mountains or mon-keigh hole they call a city. Either makes my skin crawl.
Also, I find it suspicious that THEY of all people managed to predict the raid. There's no way that they would have known and we detected no sort of rapid response force of any kind. I feel treachery here." Vecrelonis pulled his hood up to ward away the sun.

"If anyone cares, if we can find enough pieces of portal devices, it is altogether a real possibility I can cobble something together, it's pretty basic technology... at least, where the technologically inclined are concerned...

And my dear, friend mandrake, take the rare opportunity to enjoy the sun while you can! It's not everyday when you find yourself on such a lovely bright planet with so much life to abuse..." the fleshcrafter flicks out a hand, shredding the back tendon of a rabbit emerging from a hole a few meters away, He calmy walks over and picks up the screaming creature then bites into the wounded leg ripping out a mouthful of flesh and chewing it. He sits with his back against the demolished raider to bask in the sun and holds the screaming, kicking creature out to the mandrake... "want a bite?" the words are muffled from the mouthful of meat "tastes like chicken!"