The Shattered Blade

"I am sure now that I think about it. The only web way was the one Archon's vehicle had in this vanguard. We need to find another vanguard to have a chance of finding a web way, but that will have to wait. We got movement, from the East." He scans who is here. "Heamonculi or Archon-son Manix. Stay and fight, or hide and disappear?" He asks as he moves between the Heamonculi, and the threat from the east.

Now that the Incubus mentions it, the rest of you do notice an approaching dust cloud on the horizon. The fact it's moving in a straight line towards the wreckage site tends to indicate that it is not a natural phenomenon. You would guess at least ten or so ground based vehicles to toss up that much silt and ash.

And it's heading right for you...

"Seeing as those are a large number of vehicle. I strongly suggest hiding. If they are Mon-keihs then they are going to search this area we can kill them bit by bit. OR fade away. Maybe If Archon-Son can figure out how to pilot one of these simple machines. Steal one in order to extend our ground covered and livability." He clasps his Demi-Kliaves together into the great blade configuration. "Make a choice or I will." His manner is succinct and abrupt, still cold and emotionless.

"While I do appreciate your heroic attitude, sir klaivex, we will run, and we will do so now." the humor had left his voice, and had been replaced with the tone of authority of one whose orders were not used to being questioned. "we will run a mile out, making out tracks easily visible. We will then double back on our tracks for a quarter mile and circle around toward the mon-keigh vehicles, hiding our tracks. With any luck, the vehicles will be nearly deserted as the men in them hunt for us. At worst, we should only have a dozen or so to kill, I think you should be able to handle at least THAT many mon-keigh, eh, sir klaivex?" Vivi smiles at Venra "if we are just quiet enough, perhaps we shall even be able to ambush the men as they return to the vehicles. That would be optimal, otherwise, we will have the vehicle weapons to aid us. Mandrake, you will get the job of covering our tracks, I think you're probably best suited to that task, and you are most likely the one to be able to catch up to the group easiest. Archon-son, as acting head of the kabal, the call is yours, I've presented what I believe is our best chance of overtaking these mon-keigh. They may be weak, but will likely outnumber us 10 to 1, and with numbers like that, even these rats are dangerous..." Vivi stares at at Manix, his clockwork eye whirring as it focuses the iris to a pinpoint.

"I'm still regaining stamina from my previous shadowportings, but I'll do my best. Sir klaivex, how long until they get here?"

"There is nothing here that is salvagable for use to get away from those looking for us, so i suggest making a decision quickly sir." Gwyn calls as he approaches the group.
"The fleshcrafters plan is a good one, The only suggestion i have is to leave me near where we start leading them into the desert to slow them up when they return, It is very unlikely i will be seen. My rifle doesnt have many shots before the crack will become a serious issue but that will still be enough to keep them cautious and give you time to take control of the vehicles."

"Sound reasoning Kabalite, though if those vehicles turn on you, there is nothing we will be able to do to save you, so attempt to stay your fire until we take them..."

Agreed. Your devious nature appeals to me flesh crafter. Let us execute the plan.

Manix takes a number of items from his fathers body as he says this.

He readies a haywire grenade

Before heading out Gwyn pulls out a bottle takes a quick swig then tosses it to the fleshcrafter. "You are more likely to need this walking through the desert, it's just water."

You all hustle off into the desert save for the Kabalite Warrior, Gwynn, who seeks out a decent sniper position. As you circle back into hiding for your ambush you finally get a good view of your approaching threat.

Mon'keigh, filthy Mon'keigh scavengers by the look of them. The wretched and foul smelling gang rumble into site riding within rusted and scarred vehicles that belch foul and toxic clouds of exhaust while other mon'keigh on smaller, two-wheeled, jetbike-like vehicles drive about in circles, like flies on a festering wound.

Their vehicles pull into the area of ruined Dark Eldar vehicles and the occupants start to clamber out. They are a motley band, equipped with weaponry archaic even by mon'keigh standards and wearing a hodge-podge of protective gear. They begin to jabber at each other in their gaudy language as they start to prance about and poke through the wreckage, clearly looking for any valuables.



As they work one of their outriders gets off his smoke-belching wheeled bike contraption and begins to hoot and holler like the under-evolved beast he is. He has spotted the tracks leading out into the waste. There is some discussion, more crude grunts and gestures and wild blubbering amongst them.



Eventually a decision is reached, an odd half of their number, twenty men, turn back to the wreckage and continue to work through it, tossing bits of debris and other shiny baubles that catch their crude attention into their vehicles. Sixteen of them take up their weaponry, four staying mounted on their wheeled bikes, as they begin to stalk out into the desert to look for the surviving stragglers they expect to find.

The last few set up sentry positions, climbing up onto some of the wreckage to get a better view of the surrounding terrain, preparing rusted long rifles as their goggled eyes look about for any sign of approaching threat.

Spoiler:

Spoiler:

As I kick the tracks we leave as we start to deviate into a different direction into unrecognisable smears, I sprint over to a position that leaves me in the shadow of a tangled mess of a transport and several scavenger mon-keigh on foot in my sight.

There are three trucks, two are for passengers, one is for hauling scrap.

Vivi makes some battle sign, seemingly to no one at all.

He catches everyones attention, and using battle sign tells manix "I think I saw a haywire grenade? When the battle starts, lob it at the closest passenger truck, then make for the other passenger truck. Kill the pilot and turn the mon'keighs guns on the filthy beasts who are on foot."

To the mandrake "you do the same, teleport into the scrap truck and kill the pilot, then turn their guns on the same."

and to the incubi "you and I will kill the apes on the bikes, try not to destroy the bikes if possible, as the weapons could be useful when the other mon'keigh return.

we move on my mark."

Gwyn climbs up amongst the broken spars of a raider, making sure he has a quick way down to turn and face the reinforcements when they come back.

Kepping the scope centered on the fleshcrafter and taking quick glances at the scavenging mon'keigh Gwyn sees part of a battle cant seemingly directed at him asking to start the ambush, pondering how best to make a signal they will notice. `Gwyn shrugs to himself looking up to see a few mon'keigh climbing up into sentry positions.

Lining up the one furthest away Gwyn makes a few practice passes making sure he can move smoothly from one target to the other then steadying his breathing puts a shot through the first targets wrist eliciting a scream as the target desperately tries to not fall, knowing if the fall doesnt then the poison will kill, Gwyn passes smoothly over to the next target waits a moment for a clear shot and places a shot through the targets eye.

firing a quick shot off at the other sentry to keep his head down and mindful of the number of guns likely pointing in his own general direction. Gwyn slips down the back of the ruins and heads to the prow of a raider wreck and hunkers down facing the return point of the split force, placing the rifle beside him so as to not damage it he draws both pistols and waits for the mon'keigh to come into range.

A scream fills the air. The signal. Vivi makes the sign marking the start of the attack.

He turns and ducks into the wreckage utilizing the shadows and cover to hide his presence, though with the confusion from the ambush, it's unlikely he thinks, that he will need to be stealthy.

He draws a scalpel like blade from his wrist.

The mon'keigh, his target, appears to be one of the younger ones. A child by the standards of the dark kin, perhaps in his 20th year.

As the fleshcrafter rips him off his bike by the throat, muscle memory leads the monsters hand.

One cut down the chest.

One cut across the abdomen.

Vivi pulls the man back into the shadows, and into cover, using the body as a shield from incoming fire. As he does so, his third arm, a clockwork, steam monstrosity reaches into the cavity, pulling the mans intestines, stomach and other organs out of his flesh. The mans eyes grew wider and his scream fill the air as his senses catch up to the situation. He sees his guts on the ground.

A wave of rejuvenating pain sweeps over the dark creatures besetting the humans.

The mans screams cease as the creatures arm finds his heart and collapses it.

Vivi takes a bite from the mans shoulder as he lets the dirty ape fall to the ground.

Interesting.

Tastes like chicken.

As I fade through the wrecks shadow, I draw my hood back. I apear in the passengers seat next to the driver and in one swift motion, I bring my cold claw through his jugular in a silent kill. Blood sprays over me from the severed arteries. Obviusly not noticed by the sentries as Gwyn, Venra and Vivi pick the scavengers off and thus giving me a distraction, I swing my body out the side door and onto the roof mounted heavy weapon, a belt fed, high calibre monstrosity that although lacking any subtlety would make a mess of any in the line of fire.

Spoiler:

When the bikers turn and look ate the scream he sprints towards them his Demi-kliave in the great blade function. Sprinting, then leaping into the air, he brings down his blade cutting the mounted monk-keigh clean in half, stopping the blade microns from cutting the seat. He jumps up on to the seat using it as a spring board propelling him towards the next nearest biker. Separating his demi-klaive mid-air.

The problem with haemonculus, mused manix, was that they seemed to forget their place very easily. As if he would do as was told by the flesh crafter. Readying his blast pistol and moving with serpentine quickness he slipped out from behind the wreckage.

Moving up behind a pair of scouts on foot he smoothly drew one of the crude monkeigh pistols from its owners pistol and shot him with it. With lightning quickness, he darted around the second scout and fired the crude handgun again with lethal results.

One of the biker scouts turned his smoke belching vehicle about at the noise but was far to slow. His last sight was that of a blast pistol pointed at his head. The searing dark light stripped the warrior in two while leaving the bike intact.

Finally, he thought. No more walking for manix today

The scavengers wailed in their bleating pseudo language, filled already to overflowing with terror at the sight of so many of their number going down. Their leader, a tall figure in mirrored goggles, his wild gray hair whipping about in the wind, bawled orders into a primitive voice-vox while also corralling his fleeing minions into some semblance of order.

They drew out rusting firearms and fired wildly in all directions as they scampered for cover by the vehicles, apparently totally unaware of the Mandrake already within their safety net.

You can also see the cloud of dust of their contingent of hunters turning about and moving back towards the wreckage site, looking to bring aid and succor to their fellows.

Vivi - you receive a bullet tearing through some of the soft tissue of your left arm as both of the remaining snipers apparently single you out as a primary threat. There is available cover nearby, but there are also more victims all around you still trying to fall back to the security of their vehicles.

Venra - the mon'keigh warleader has drawn a curved sabre and bolt missile pistol and is shouting orders to his men to form into solid battle lines. In moments even that rabble will probably manage to do so. It is clear that there needs to be disruption or death either within the battle lines or for the leader himself.

Gwyn - from your new vantage point you can see that the bikers that went with the search party are heading back in at full throttle, five of them, each of their bikes mounting crude projectile rapid fire weaponry. They will be here very soon unless something happens to slow or stop them, and that could be dangerous for anyone out in the open...

Vecrelonis - you hear two men climb into the back of the vehicle and start messing about with the heavy weapon. They appear to be totally unaware of the chill in the air from the driver's compartment.

Manix - you see that the other vehicle with a gun emplacement on it has had the pintle mount start to track around, the bobbing head of one of the ash waste scavengers barely visible peeking out through an armored viewslit as he tracks the weapon over to prepare to fire on the aliens attacking his brethren.

Spoiler:

A bit of rapid battlefield triangulation tells Vivi approximately where the human snipers are. Not the direction he wants to go. Shelter from fire would be needed and there was only one place that would stay safe enough for him not to be shredded by incoming fire.

Vivi took off at a dead sprint, seeking the shelter of the single vehicle under dark eldar control.

Gunning the engine of the newly acquired bike, manix makes a daring run close past the still monkeigh controlled vehicle. The haywire grenade in his hand arcs through the air as he passes by... Aimed at the vision slit of the turret (gm check needed?)

As the monkieh does what ever futile action to save his pathetic life. He splits his Klaive around the monkiegh striking the bike to propel him at the leader. Landing in a roll he comes up cutting left and right a swath towards the leader.

Realising that the risk of hitting the incubus is too high in there, I drop into a shadow and emerge from one behind a mon-keigh. I already have my scimitar in hand and ready and so bring my blade directly down one of the beasts and with hardly a grunt of pain, it falls into two pieces lengthwise, cut from left shoulder to groin. Two of its comrades who are desparetley trying to escape the armoured whirlwind in their midst wail as they see the bloody mess behind them as they turn around to flee. That one wail is all they get as baelfire consumes them at point blank range. One raging human who seems to be barely an adault runs at me with a rifle butt but loses both his arms in the blink of an eye. Screeming in agony, I absorb the pain coursing through him for a half-second and than cut him in half with a casual swing.

Staying low Gwyn takes a quick look up over the wreck and takes stock of what is rushing towards the battle behind him.

Seeing the bikes rushing ahead of the main pack Gwyn smiles and taking a quick aim of the leading two he fires a
Single shot from each pistol at the two riders. Confident in his abilities and enjoying the death screams coning from behind he fires two more shots aimed at the next two.

Ducking back down to find a new vantage point he sees two bikes go past to the main battle. Gwyn then slides along to a different spot to await the main groups return.

The mon'keigh have had enough. Manix's haywire grenade shorts out the systems of one of their gun vehicles, while Vivi takes possession of the other. Meanwhile their bikers are shot from their saddles and a black armored vision of death wades into the midst of their ranks, their low quality firearms creating little more than a few sparks as they fire at him while he scythes through their ranks, aided by a living shadow armed with a curved blade that rips them to shreds and flickers with an eerie and unnatural fire crawling over its flesh.

Their leader wails and warbles as he turns and begins to flee. Those few of his followers who are still able flee after him.

In the distance you can even see the returning mon'keigh deciding better of the affair and also turning to flee for safety. Over half their number and almost all of their vehicles lie destroyed or disabled around you.

The field is yours to make of it as you will.

"The Leader is Mine" He brings the blades together as he sprints after the leader, hold the great Klaive resting on one shoulder, prepped for a single cleaving blow. He runs in a straight line taking the shortest route to the leader. If any of the underlings are in his way, he arm or shoulder checks them giving them a taste of the spikes and sharp edges on his armor.