With all the fighting in the main gate, no one seemed to notice the large mass of ork machines and bodies moving for the rear of the city. The gates themselves seemed to be only manned by a few guardsmen, who were killed rather easily with the amount of fire pelting the gates. They were not as large as the main gates, but two mega dreds easily pushed the doors to the city open. Steelface sat in the back of his personal trukk as he watched the mega dreds do their job. "Ye fink dese boyz would have shown a bettah fight." He said in a low growl. With the gates open the mass of orks surged through the city. Chopping up any resistance until they eventually made it to the main fight. No one seemed to think that the orks could have made it in from behind and the guardsmen and tau there were soon caught off guard. The only ones who seemed to be putting up a fight were the amount of space marines who seemed to be caught up in the mix as well. Seeing the large dreadnought the twin mega dreds moved in to try and tear it apart.

Meanwhile in the space above the planet. The ork space hulk was trading shots with the Imperial ships that had shown up. Most of the times an ork blockade would stop almost any imperial interference, but only one hulk with enough kroozas to support it wouldn't keep them away forever. The grots and orks all scurrying about the metal meat ball as they fired every gun they had. Without much support the space hulk may need to be left behind. Well the orks could always pick up another ship if they need to.

Bray'arth Ashmantle was filled with rage. Even as the Salamanders had begun to fall back to the city's Noble District, the last line of defense and home to the Governer's Palace, Basilica of the Emperor Incarnate, archives, and musem among other vital parts of the city, the Orks had decided to actually confront the Salamanders.

Bellowing in a pious fury as the ancient war machine crashed through the Orkish lines, the Iron Dragon crashed into one of the "mega dreads", twisted parodies of Bray'arth's own splendor. Punching one of his fists through the center of the first "dred", the ancient concentrated both of his Dreadfire heavy flamers on it's now-revealed innards, and unleashed a torrent of cleansing fire. The combined effect of both the ancient weapons was brutal, the effects similar to a close-range melta blast, reducing the machine and it's inhabitent to nought more then slag and ash.

Turning to the second approaching machine, Ashmantle moved to enage it as well. Moments before the two war machines clashed, however, the Orkish contraption was blown apart with explosive force. Bellowing his anger at whoever had interrupted his fight, the Dreadnought saw two of the Thunderhawks dip their wings in salute before flying back to the city center. Angered at their interruption, Bray'arth moved to re-join the battle before hearing a voice break into his comms.

Chaplain Kato watched with something approaching amusment as the Dreadnought visibly sagged with displeasure at be ordered back to the lines. Bray'arth may be hot-headed, by he was no fool, and returned immediatly. Satisified, Kato turned back from the walls and strode over to the Strategium, where he met the other commanders. The Planetary Governer, Colonel, and Commander of the PDF were all present, alongside the Chaplain's Brother-Sargents. Nooded to each in turn, Kato was presented with news of several problems with the local PDF bases going silent, as well as numerous reports from various inhabiants of the city that they had seen Space Marines lacking the livery of the Salamanders around the city.

Kato's response was immediate, to each position they had lost contact with were sent five Salamanders, veterans all of the Badab War as well as Armaggedon, and to the Palace and Basilica were sent five more. The rest went to the walls. Kato himself went to the Museum, beneath which, according to the Governer, were a number of artifacts held by none other then the Inquisition. Taking his five Pyroclasts with him and sending orders for Bray'arth to take command of the forces at the wall, the Chaplain moved swiftly towards his newest objective.

((So, I may have to call in reinforcements or something soon. Fifty Salamanders cannot hold off this many Orks, Traitors, and Xenos alone. Even the few troops we do have as reinforcments seem to be turning against us as well. >.>; ))

*Every weapon in the Eldar force was suddenly turned on the Voidraven. In the cockpit every lock on alarm went off as the Fire storm long barrel tri scatter laser swung around and took aim at the craft, units of Dark Reapers also came from a number of different spots and angles, the chances of the bomber escaping undamaged as slim to none if it wasn't utterly obliterated. One of the warlocks looked over and spoke up*

I am sorry for this dark kin but this is an operation we must take ourselves. Please take your leave and we shall allow you to go in peace. Maybe some other time we will have need of your unique skills.

*The warlock motioned and some of the weapons aimed at the bomber were lowered, but enough still were watching it that one wrong move would result in a very bad day for both pilot and craft*

Zon let out a heavy sigh, slowly turning around the plane.
"You dont know what you are missing!"

He almost chuckled in glee when he activated his transmitter to Commorragh...
he had a few friends by the reaver-gangs, after all.

As soon as he was sure the eldar had gave up on him, he boosted the voidraven up into the air, preparing to fire his mobile webway portal.

Ira looked at Cösper, but then the guard commander Sullus stepped in "Inquisitor Castus Bones..." he began, but then he got distracted by the Orks ripping through the rear gate.
"Whatever Inquisitor Castus Bones communicated with your superiors matters not as we have Orks incoming. If we want to survive this both, we best work together."
Ira and Cösper nodded.
"Besides, the Inquisition has not communicated anything with our chapter, save for the importance of this location. To live is to stand with us, not against us.". Ira stowed his boltgun which he hadn't even raised and folded his arms while Cösper stopped reaching for his chainaxe.

"I hear them coming. Better decide now. For the Greater Good. For staying alive, I suggest.".

The rain intensified even more, the sound of the red rain falling onto the Rhino transport becoming almost as loud as the march of eight Astartes in Terminator armour, ponding onto the steel floors of a space hulk.

Unseen due to the unholy speed of the beast, Ag'rhi'keff tried to alert the Khornate champion Bruticus that there were Tau outside, Orks at the rear gate and that Ira and Cösper were here to back them up to retrieve the weapon of Angron before all hell would break loose.
Uncertain if the other Khornate marine got the message, but determined to fullfill his purpouse he sped off again to return to the Bloodletter Herald and ultimately the warp to notify the daemon Primarch Angron himself.

++++++++

Meanwhile at the summoning point the Bloodletter Herald stepped out of the summoning circle and slowly, one by one, Bloodletters started to form in the small anomaly caused by the ritual.
"It is time"
The Herald roared with an eartshaking volume before he sounded a warhorn, echoing it's call throughout the hive, aiming to inspire fear to all foes of Khorne.

++++++++

Ira acted as if he was suprised by the bloodcurdling call of the warhorn in the distance.
"WHAT WAS THAT?! Better decide now my friend on whose side you're on, I might be millenia old, but something roaring that loud is bound to be stronger that you and I both imagine."

Krol'jas' head snapped up at the sound of the Horn. "I'z heard dat before... OI YOU LOT! QUIT DERPIN' WIF DESE LOT! WE'ZE GOTTA BIGGA FINGS TA' KILL IN DA CITY!!! KEEP DA DAKKA ON DESE WHILE WE'Z GOIN' IN!" Krol'jas yelled, beckoning his Waaaagh! towards the inner workings of the city. The Waaagh! began to move, turning to fire upon their opponents as they retreated in towards their new stronghold, which they had made within the large gate complex of the city. "Vixen! Quit playin' wif ya new buddy! We'z got biggah fings ta' kill!" He shouted, the Radio grot tied to his belt holding up the microphone so his boss could be heard.

Vixen giggled slightly, opening her suit's chest to hoist up the modified 'dakka' she carried, firing a tech-virus spike up towards Flamewing's suit. "Toodles!!!" She yelled up at him, activating the suit's jump pack, propelling her across the ground, chest armor still open. "I'd love to stay and keep playing, but the Boss needs me! BYEEEEEE!!!" She shouted, making her way through the Waaaaaagh! towards her Krol'jas. "Hey Boss! Did I do good?!?!" She shouted, managing to catch up to him.

"Aye! Dat ya did, Vixen! Dat Tau git didn' stand a chance!" Krol'jas said, cackling.

"Uhhhh, boss!" The Radio grot on his belt said, listening to the Waaaagh's communications. "Da' Krooza! It's gone! Da' Big Boss is dead!" The Grot said, seemingly scared.

"Bah! Guess dat means I'z da new Big boss now! Vixen! You'z me new Third Nob! You'z big enough for it now!" Krol'jas said, looking about his Boyz, Shootaz and Lootaz and Tankbustaz firing at the approaching forces from outside the gate.

Vixen looked down, slightly confused. She seemed, bigger. Within the past few moments, her bones were aching, her skin had been stretching. The gestalt psychic energies of the three million Ork Waaaaaaagh! making her bigger than her former size. They thought she was getting bigger, just like a regular Ork, and for now, it seemed, she was. "Uhhhhh, Okay, boss!" She said, still sitting within the now properly looted crisis suit.

((By the way, the contents and location of sublevel Omega is kind of a heavily guarded secret. Except by supernatural means *Warp divination, particularly efficient spying, -really- expensive bribery* not too many people know that it exists or what's there. Just make sure, if you're going for the prizes, you explain how you've come to know where/what it is. 'kay? 'kay.

))

*The sky thunders with artillery and shelling. It shakes the Thunderhawk as it heads towards its destination*

"Two minutes till landfall. Check your gear one last time." Bolters click as clips are put in, servos whir as they are adjusted, and vox channels are checked. The air is tense in the Thunderhawk as the brothers of Squad Scourge Primus stare at their sergeant. Even through their helmed visages, Thalias can sense the hatred in the shared gaze. Leading a wounded pack of Space Marines who are barely half strength. He shakes his head slightly at the thought.

The vox clicks. "I can't believe they put you in charge! You aren't even a true bro-." The derogatory statement was abruptly cut short by an armored fist slamming into his helmet. The impact so hard the visual sensors were turned off for a second. "I've had enough of your attitude Galton!" Galton recovers from the blow and composes himself in front of his squad-mates. "I fully comprehend your hatred for me, but save it for the loyalists below us. I'll go over the mission one more time. We need to assault this Imperial position long enough so that the cultists in the sewers beneath it can open a portal to the warp."

*The sizzle of laz rounds can be heard from inside, followed by autocannons as the Thunderhawk slows and descends. The bay doors open and all Space Marines rush out*

"Iron within! Iron without!"

Squad Scourge Primus takes position in what little cover there is at the perimeter of the Guardsmen outpost. Bolters thunder as the screams of men being torn asunder pierces the cacophony of gunfire. The Iron Warriors quickly advance as the loyalists are mowed down in rapid succession. They reach the base gate and group to the sides. "Brother Rotarn, prepare the melta charges!" In quick response, Rotarn attaches the charges to the gates and preps the detonation rune. The squad retreats to a safe distance. Promethium singes the air as the charges explode, leaving a smoldering hole where the gate once stood.

Brother Galton rushes ahead of the squad into the smoke-filled courtyard. Thalias roared into the vox, "Stay in formation, you worthless wretch!" There was no response as the roar of bolter fire ensued. In a matter of seconds, Galton's life signs on Thalias' visor went silent. The rest of the squad enter to find Galton shredded by a heavy bolter. All look up at an Imperial Fist devastator, decorated in purity seals, and shouting pointless prayers to his corpse god. Thalias muttered to himself, "To have the honor of fighting these loyalist dogs and attempt to control my squad? The Warsmith is insane."

(Part 1-2, apparently to long to post as one big one >.>)

*Bruticus and his team walked silently through the sub-levels beneath the museum, keeping watch on their position should any attempt to follow them. Behind them, an explosion could be heard, as Adonis walked down the now caved in passage leading to the main level, one frag grenade short. The silent Slaaneshi moved with all haste, seeking to catch up to his group, as Bruticus, two levels down, would continue to walk, speaking with Ozymandias.*

"Yes...it is here, somewhere, over to the....left..twenty paces forward....in the case......grey......00451-B."

"Malak, Kal'Brauss, you stay here, watch the staircase and wait for Adonis, me, Ozymandias, and Malathrax shall go and retrieve the artifact."

*The two nodded, turning back to watch the narrow passage, barely large enough to accomodate even one traitor astartes at a time, training their weaponry on the staircase, should any pursuers come tumbling down. Bruticus turned, and walked down the directions given to him by the Sorcerer, followed closely by the Plague Champion, as they moved towards the grey container, 00451-B. The designation on the box was that it was found in an archeological dig, thought to have belonged to the planet's original inhabitants, before Imperial expansion had claimed this system, and apparently had held some value to it's previous owners. Unfortunantly Imperial scientists had been unable to unlock this relic's mysteries, and it had been forgotten down here, during the turbulent ages of the Horus Heresy, were it had been sitting collecting dust ever since. Bruticus walked towards the container, looking over at Malathrax.*

"Would you care to do the honors prophet of Papa Nurgle?"

"It would be a pleasure my lord."

*Malathrax raises his left arm, his lightning claws crackling with energy, as he swings horizontally, slicing off the top of the container, as stale air rushes out of the box. Peering over, Bruticus reaches down and grins, grabbing what he had been looking for, and pulling it out from within. The relic was made from solid gold, it's sides and top decorated with an assortment of jewels, mysterious runes carved all along the metal, two long poles extending on either side, perhaps for people to grasp and carry around as some sort of idol. The creation of this beautiful ark was unknown, and Bruticus could only guess how old this was, yet he saw that it radiated with fell energies, it's figure containing an aura of the Warp itself. He turned to face Ozymandias, and nodded.*

"Can you do it? I recall hearing about this artifact from back before the great betrayal, and even then it's secrets eluded the scientists who attempted to find them."

"Those fools who called themselves wise men, they could not possibly have access to my vast knowledge, they merely tampered with powers they could not understand. I can open it Bruticus, I can retrieve the prize within."

*Bruticus heard an almost obsessive tone in the Sorcerer's voice, and made note to keep an eye on him, in case he got any treacherous ideas. For now however, he just nodded, and took a step back, setting the relic down infront of the Sorcerer. Ozymandias sat cross legged, muttering words, as the relic began to rise into the air. Letting go of his staff, it continuing to stand in place as if grasped, as he held out both hands, moving them and his fingers around, as if manipulating the fabric of the box, as it began to twirl and rotate and spin as it floated. Ozymandias continued to work, work against hundreds of years of sealing, ward upon ward place on this relic by those who held it sacred before, as he played with the fabric of the material world as if it were nothing more than a child's toy. Bruticus scanned the basement's various other boxes, noting other artifacts that had once gained Imperial notice, totems, maps, and other pieces of a long forgotten culture, taking the time to smash what was once thought to be a desk that the Emperor himself had used during his brief stay there, chuckling at the show of hatred to his long abandoned lord. He turned back to Ozymandias, who now reached out, the ark breaking, it's form coming apart into various pieces like a puzzle, as what was within was revealed. The book, bound in what appeared to be flesh, and penned in blood, hovered middair, as it floated towards Bruticus. Bruticus looked in awe, as before him was one of the fabled books written by the Primarch Lorgar, penned all the way back during those once turbulent times. This however, was no normal Book of Lorgar, tainted with the teachings of the foul Erebus and Kor Phaeron, no, this was a copy of theTestamentum Veritas, a copy of Lorgar's teaching in the ways of the Ruinous Powers, written for the eyes of his fellow Primarchs only. The galaxy only contained a handful of copies, most having been lost over the ages, their wisdom thought to have vanished forever into history. When news came of where this one lay, and how it had come to be there, the Lord Vanguard himself was quite amused. The Warp, in it's chaotic and reality defying nature, either through divine intervention, or pure chance, had deposited this book from the time it had entered, onto this planet's surface, during the lost Golden Age of Mankind, where it had taken it's hold upon the indigenous species ever since. It had taken much effort on the parts of the Vanguards group of Sorcerers, and Ank-Khar-Garrush himself, to track down this copy.*

"And so, it is ours. Objective found, time to get out of here before we draw to much attention to ourselves."

(Part 2-2)

*Bruticus looked over to Ozymandias, to notice the Sorcerer was suddenly in much pain, as he clutched his head, screaming out in pain, his mind suddenly wracked by visions of darkness and torment, as though he even now battled for his very sanity. Bruticus rushed over to the Sorcerer, who began to fall from his floating state, crashing into the ground, still wrestling with whatever assaulted his mind. Malathrax stomped over, lookinfg down upon the Sorcerer, as Kal'Brauss and Adonis moved to flank him, they too rapt with their companions sudden spasm. They waited ten long minutes, until Ozymandias, lay still, before rising back shakily to his full height, panting and apparently dazed. Bruticus walked over to face him, grabbing him with both hands by the shoulders, as he attempted to get him to focus on him.*

"What is it? What happened?"

*Ozymandias looked weakly into the Khornate's eyes, as he held up a hand, pressing it against the side of his helmet, showing him what he had seen. Bruticus was suddenly transported to a hellish landscape. He looked back and forth, noting that all around there were Bloodletters, hissing and snarling, as they circled his form, before suddenly scattering. He turned around, seeing a building, which he recognized as the Governor's Palace, though he did not know why, before he flashed forward, his consciousness flowing through the building, until it began to sink into the ground, plunging deeper and deeper into the Earth. Finally, he emerged into an open room, guardsmen running about everywhere, as a man clearly one of the Inquisition barked orders back and forth, standing before a large vault. He was in the vault now, looking down upon a single case, it's essence leaking the dark aura of the warp, it's very presence causing his blood to rise, his anger to grow and his urge to kill to skyrocket. The large case opened, revealing what once was a large chain-axe, and Bruticus felt his hearts nearly stop. Before him, was the weapon known only as Widowmaker, first great weapon of his father, Angron, thought to have been lost in their righteous battle with the Space Wolves. He reached forward, to grasp such an artifact, and just as his fingers touched the haft of the axe, he suddenly saw a great daemonic form, rise before him, the being seemingly as large as a Reaver titan, as it let loose a hellish roar, sending him flying back into darkness.*

"He seems to be coming out of it, ease up on that grip, you might rip his head off."

"We can't be too sure, you know he'd kill us in an instant if we let him."

*Bruticus was suddenly aware that his axe was across the floor, and that he was pinned underneath the forms of both Malak and Adonis, the former gripping his head in a lock, seemingly ready to tear it off should the need arise. He looked around, seeing Malathrax with his lightning claw raised in a defensive position, as he stared down at him."

"I'm fine for fugs sake, now get off of me. What the hell are you doing that for anyway?"

"You wen't down my Lord, to one knee after Ozy grabbed you, then out of nowhere you snarled, and made to grab your axe, like you had fallen to the Nails. Luckily, Malak recognized the signs and slammed into ya, gave us time to disarm and neutralize you, keep you from doing something we'd all regret."

*Bruticus snarled again, as he felt the weight of the two astartes ease up off of him, getting back to his feet, and moving to collect his fallen axe. He looked over at Ozymandias, still noting his silence, and apparent lack of care in this current situation. Gods, he hoped the kid wasn't broken from that, not a good way to find yourself going, the path to insanity, Gods knew he constantly was fighting to keep himself off of it.*

"We still have business here, we need to get to the Governor's Palace, as soon as possible."

"And why might that be oh fearless leader?"

*Bruticus turned to look at Kal'Brauss, giving him a stare that could shut even him up. He looked at each member of his team in the eye, attempting to convey the seriousness of this.*

"There is something there we need to get, another artifact we cannot let the Imperial's keep their damned hands on."

*They nodded, as Malathrax shoved a small case containing the Testamentum Veritas into the many folds of his being, tucking it in deep, while the rest of the group prepared to depart from the museum. Walking back up the staircase, they only halted at one point, allowing Adonis to rush forward, place a melta charge at the collapsed area, and run back down, before hearing the explosion, and rushing back out to the main level of the museum. Walking into the main hall, the Team to a moment to consider how they would manage to get to the Governor's Palace undetected, heading up to the second floor, to plan out their next move.*

Ag'rhi'keff returned to the summoning site and shook his head in front his master.
The Herald snarled and backhanded the hound, causing Ag'rhi'keff to howl.
The vision that the marine Bruticus had could be felt throughout the warp and seven more hounds stepped out of the portal.
The Herald growled at a nearby formation of eight Bloodletters and it was decided.
The mortals would bring away the axe so more mortals in red and brass and red and silver could come to widen the tear in the veil, unleasing not only footsoldiers of Khorne, but Bloodcrushers, Thirsters and Daemon Princes as well.

Ag'rhi'keff felt that he had gone unnoticed, so before heading out to retrieve the artefact along with his daemonic scouting team -if you will- he rushed over to Bruticus' position one more time to pounce on Bruticus, only to knock him down on the floor, not aiming to harm him and then run away.

As said it would be done, with unholy speed. The warp presence was getting stronger as the sheer bloodshed the Orks alone brought on this planet would be quite enough to sustain prolonged stay.
Ag'rhi'keff reunited with the rest of his sortie and headed out for the vault.
The smell of Angron's weaponry guided him. Its warp presence in the materium guided Ag'rhi'keff and his team in a straight line.
The landspeed of the daemons increased as they got closer and closer, exceeding that of a thunderhawk as they came within a kilometer of their objective.

They became a red blur. Camouflaged by the heavy rainfall of red.

They retrieved the weapon (in its cache). They caused no destruction, no kills, but they hadn't gone unnoticed.
One of the sanctioned psykers in the Governors Palace fainted and another felt the presence of the Bloodletters.

Alarms everywhere in the city went off.
"WARP BREACH ALERT. ALL MILITARY PERSONEL TO THE PALACE. WARP BREACH ALERT"
The mechanized voice rang through the city.

++

Ag'rhi'keff spat out the weapon in the hands of Cösper, who immediately looked at Ira and yelled "DO IT NOW, LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE. HIT THE BUTTON"
And Ira replied with a simple "Okay' activating a precast spell to get himself, Cösper and the weapon of the face of the planet.
They had achieved their goal and were already enroute to gain the favour of Khârn.
But on the planet's surface the remaining force would still have to deal with an increasing number of daemons.

(Switching the focus from my marine duo to daemonic forces here)

The Herald stood and adressed his sixtyfour Bloodletters. "Slay. Without pity, without remorse. Slay. AND BRING THE PITFULL PSYKERS TO MY FEET SO I MAY SLAY THEM MYSELF. THE HUNTSMAN COMMANDS YOU!"

The Huntsman raised his Hellblade and axe as Ag'rhi'keff returned to his side.

Eight banners of blood, eight bloodcurdling warhorn calls, sixty four roars and sixteen more howls of hounds retuned The Huntsman command.